{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_43524/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_43524","id":"gutenberg_43524","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/43524","summary":null,"tags":["Category: History - Religious","Category: Journals","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Catholic Church -- Periodicals","The Catholic World"],"text":"Transcriber's Notes:\n\n_Underscores_ indicate italicized text. Greek transliterations are\nenclosed in ~tildes~.\n\nFor fully linked content listing, page numbers, and Greek script, see\nthe HTML version of this title.\n\nRemaining transcriber's notes are at the end of the text.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\n\n\n    THE\n    CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\n    A\n    MONTHLY MAGAZINE\n    OF\n    GENERAL LITERATURE AND SCIENCE.\n\n    VOL. X.\n    OCTOBER, 1869, TO MARCH, 1870.\n\n\n    NEW YORK:\n    THE CATHOLIC PUBLICATION HOUSE,\n    126 Nassau Street.\n\n    1870.\n\n\n    S. W. GREEN,\n    PRINTER,\n    16 and 18 Jacob St., N. Y.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n    Angela, 38, 161, 293, 471, 617.\n    An October Reverie, 186.\n\n    British Premiers in Relation to British Catholics, 674, 826.\n    Bach, Friedemann, 805.\n\n    Contradiction, An Imaginary, 1.\n    Council of Trent, The, 24.\n    Christian Women, An Appeal to, 71.\n    Church in Paris and France, 95.\n    Catholicity and Pantheism, 118.\n    Council, The, and the Roman Congregations, 170.\n    Church Music, 402, 598, 743.\n    Catholic Church in New York, Early History of, 413, 515.\n    Council, Matters Relating to, 420.\n    Church Door, At the, 651.\n    Chess, 683.\n    Council of the Vatican, The First Oecumenical, 693, 841.\n    Civil and Political Liberty, 721.\n    Christ of Ausfeldt, The, 774.\n\n    Devious Ways, Through, 550.\n\n    Eclipse of August Seventh, 106.\n\n    Foreign Literary Notes, 135, 422, 705.\n    Father Faber, Life of, 145.\n    Free Religion, 195.\n    Ffoulkes, The Letter of E. S., 631.\n\n    Gallicanism, The True Origin of, 527.\n    Gordian Knots, Untying, 589, 735.\n    Greek Schism, The, 758.\n\n    Hero, or a Heroine? 232, 346, 497.\n    Hecker, Father, Farewell Sermon of, 289.\n    Harwood's, Dr., Price Lecture, 312.\n    Haydn's Struggle and Triumph, 326.\n    History of the Catholic Church in New York, 413, 515.\n    Hurston Hall, 449.\n    Hints on Housekeeping, 610.\n\n    Irish Volunteers, A Sketch of, 276.\n    Immutability of the Species, 252, 332, 656.\n    Irish Land Tenure, History of, 641.\n    Iron Mask, The, 754.\n\n    Lost and Found, 84.\n    Life of Father Faber, 145.\n    Liberty, Civil and Political, 721.\n    Labor Movement, Views of the, 784.\n    Lucifer's Ear, 856.\n\n    Memento Mori, 206.\n    Music and Love, Haydn's First Lessons in, 267.\n    Music, Church, 402, 598, 743.\n    Matters Relating to the Council, 420.\n    Miscellany, 564.\n\n    New York City, Sanitary Topography of, 362.\n\n    Paganina, 13.\n    Priory, St. Oren's, 56.\n    Prisons, Religion in, 114.\n    Presbyterian Reply to the Pope's Letter, 216.\n    Protestantism and Catholicity, The Future of, 433, 577.\n    Putnam's Defence, 542.\n    Polish Patriotic Hymn, A, 548.\n    Poland, Present Condition of, 799.\n\n    Rome, Morality of, 50.\n    Roman Congregations and the Council, 170.\n\n    Species, Immutability of, 252, 332, 656.\n    Sermon, Father Hecker's Farewell, 289.\n    St. Peter, Basilica of, 374.\n    St. Augustine, The Philosophical Doctrines of, compared with the\n        Ideology of the Modern Schools, 481.\n    Schism, The Greek, 758.\n    Seton, Mrs., 778.\n\n    Trent, The Council of, 24.\n    The Seven Bishops, 130.\n\n    Vansleb, The Oriental Scholar and Traveller, 459.\n    Vatican Council, The, 841.\n\n    Women, An Appeal to Young Christian, 71.\n    Wayside Reminiscence, 84.\n\n\nPOETRY.\n\n    Ambition, Sacred, 12.\n    A Christmas Hymn, 526.\n    A Convert's Prayer, 614.\n\n    December 8, 1869, 457.\n\n    In Memoriam of Rev. F. A. Baker, 597.\n    \"It's Wrong,\" 825.\n\n    Lines on the Pontifical Hat, 134.\n\n    Matthew xxvii, 37.\n    My Christmas Gift, 496.\n\n    Nazareth, On a Picture of, 757.\n\n    Prayer, 331.\n\n    Sacred Ambition, 12.\n    St. Peter Delivered from Prison, 824.\n\n    The Chapel, 655.\n\n\nNEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n    Alcott's Hospital Sketches, 143.\n    A Little Boy's Story, 426.\n    Auerbach's German Tales, 427.\n    Almanac, Catholic Family, 574.\n    Andersen's Improvisatore and Two Baronesses, 575.\n    Acta ex iis Decerpta, etc., etc., 720.\n    Alexander, J. A., Life of, 856.\n    An American Family in Paris, 858.\n\n    Bayma's Elements of Molecular Mechanics, 288.\n    Bonaventure's Parables and Stories, 575.\n    Bushnell's Woman's Suffrage, 715.\n\n    Cantarium Romanum, 427.\n    Caseine, 431.\n    Cooley's Text-Book of Chemistry, 432.\n    Columbus, Lorgne's Life of, 574.\n    Curtis's Life of Webster, 714.\n    Creation a Recent Work of God, 855.\n\n    Diomede, 142.\n    Dorie, Henry, Life of, 144.\n\n    Evans's Autobiography of a Shaker, 143.\n    Emerald, The, 144.\n    Edgeworth's Tales and Parent's Assistant, 430.\n    Elm Island Stories, 860.\n\n    Ffoulkes's Letter, A Critique on, 287.\n    Ffoulkes's Roman Index and its Late Proceedings, 709.\n    Formby's Life of Christ, 719.\n    Fair Harvard, 858.\n    Frontier Stories, 860.\n\n    Giles's Lectures and Essays on Irish Subjects, 138.\n    Gilmour's Bible History, 143.\n    Gallitzin's Life and Character, 426.\n    Gasparini's Attributes of Christ, 857.\n\n    Henry Crabbe Robinson's Diary, Correspondence, etc., 141.\n    Heady's Seen and Heard, 288.\n    Horace, The Works of, 288.\n    Hadley's Elements of the Greek Language, 288.\n    Hagenbach's History of the Church, 718.\n    Hefele's Council of Constance, 719.\n    Hill's Titania's Banquet, etc., 856.\n    Hedge's Primeval World of Hebrew Tradition, 858.\n\n    In Heaven We Know Our Own, 139.\n    Intelligence of Animals, 288.\n    Ireland, Patriot's History of, 432.\n\n    Janus on the Pope and the Council, 712.\n    Jarves's Art Thoughts, 717.\n\n    Kerney's First Class Book of History, 431.\n    Kickham's Sally Cavanagh, 720.\n    Neal's Great Mysteries and Little Plagues, 720.\n\n    Lacordaire's Sketch of the Order of St. Dominic, 429.\n    Lange's Commentary on Romans, 430.\n    Lorimer's Among the Trees, 718.\n    Library of Good Example, 719.\n    Lange's Commentary on the Old Testament, 857.\n    La Salle, Life of the Venerable J. B. de, 857.\n    Lady Fullerton's Mrs. Gerald's Niece, 859.\n\n    Marshall's Order and Chaos, 138.\n    Mopsa and the Fairy, 140.\n    Madame Swetchine, Writings of, 285.\n    Mangin's Mysteries of the Ocean, 428.\n    Meunier's Great Hunting-Grounds of the World, 428.\n    Mangin's Desert World, 428.\n    Minor Chords, 431.\n    Manual of Third Order of St. Francis, 431.\n    Manning's Pastoral on the Council, 569.\n    Missale Romanum, 715.\n    Mommsen's History of Rome, 715.\n    McGee, Thomas D'Arcy, Poems of, 854.\n\n    Nampon's Catholic Doctrine, as Defined by the Council of Trent, 286.\n    Nolan's Byrnes of Glengoulah, 720.\n\n    Patty Gray's Journal from Boston to Baltimore, 142.\n    Placidus on Education, 143.\n    Potter's Pastor and People, 573.\n    Pumpelly's Across America and Asia, 711.\n    Prentiss's Nidworth, 716.\n    Preston's Christ and the Church, 718.\n    Particular Examen, 857.\n\n    Reiter's Ecclesiastical Map of the U. S., 142.\n    Ryder's Critique on Ffoulkes's Letter, 287.\n    Robertson's Sermons, 432.\n\n    Smith's Pentateuch, 429.\n    Sargent's Woman who Dared, 571.\n    Spielhagen's Through Night to Light, 576.\n    Sadlier's Almanac and Directory, 718.\n    Sybaris and other Poems, 859.\n\n    Two Years before the Mast, 140.\n    The Two Women, 144.\n    Thompson's Man in Genesis and Geology, 287.\n    The Two Cottages, 576.\n    The Lost Rosary, 576.\n    The Life of Blessed Margaret Mary, 576.\n    Tennyson's Holy Grail, 855.\n    The Cabin on the Prairie, 860.\n    The Sunset Land, 860.\n\n    Upton's Letters of Peregrine Pickle, 859.\n\n    White's Elements of Astronomy, 141.\n    Whipple's Literature of the Age of Elizabeth, 283.\n    Wood's Bible Animals, 716.\n    White's Ecce Femina, 857.\n    Wiley's Elocution and Oratory, 859.\n    Wonders of Pompeii, 860.\n\n    Young's Office of Vespers, 144.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\nVOL. X., No. 55.--OCTOBER, 1869.\n\n\n\n\nAN IMAGINARY CONTRADICTION.[1]\n\n\nWe notice in this review the article on the _Spirit of Romanism_\nfor a single point only, which it makes, for as a whole it is not\nworth considering. Father Hecker asserts in his _Aspirations of\nNature_, that, \"Endowed with reason, man has no right to surrender\nhis judgment; endowed with free-will, man has no right to yield\nup his liberty. Reason and free-will constitute man a responsible\nbeing, and he has no right to abdicate his independence.\" To this and\nseveral other extracts from the same work to the same effect, the\n_Christian Quarterly_ opposes what is conceded by Father Hecker and\nheld by every Catholic, that every one is bound to believe whatever\nthe church believes and teaches. But bound as a Catholic to submit\nhis reason and will to the authority of the church, how can one\nassert that he is free to exercise his own reason, and has no right\nto surrender it, or to abdicate his own independence? Father Hecker\nsays, \"Religion is a question between the soul and God; no human\nauthority has, therefore, any right to enter its sacred sphere.\" Yet\nhe maintains that he is bound to obey the authority of the church,\nand has no right to believe or think contrary to her teachings and\ndefinitions. How can he maintain both propositions?\n\nWhat Father Hecker asserts is that man has reason and free-will,\nand that he has no right to forego the exercise of these faculties,\nor to surrender them to any human authority whatever. Between this\nproposition and that of the plenary authority of the church in all\nmatters of faith or pertaining to faith and sound doctrine, as\nasserted by the Council of Trent and Pius IX. in the _Syllabus_,\nthe _Christian Quarterly_ thinks it sees a glaring contradiction.\nFather Hecker, it is to be presumed, sees none, and we certainly\nsee none. Father Hecker maintains that no _human_ authority has any\nright to enter the sacred sphere of religion, that man is accountable\nto no man or body of men for his religion or his faith; but he does\nnot say that he is not responsible to God for the use he makes of\nhis faculties, whether of reason or free-will, or that God has no\nright to enter the sacred sphere of religion, and tell him even\nauthoritatively what is truth and what he is bound to believe and\ndo. When I believe and obey a human authority in matters of religion,\nI abdicate my own reason; but when I believe and obey God, I preserve\nit, follow it, do precisely what reason itself tells me I ought to\ndo. There is no contradiction, then, between believing and obeying\nGod, and the free and full exercise of reason and free-will. Our\nCincinnati contemporary seems to have overlooked this very obvious\nfact, and has therefore imagined a contradiction where there is none\nat all, but perfect logical consistency. Our contemporary is no doubt\nvery able, a great logician, but he is here grappling with a subject\nwhich he has not studied, and of which he knows less than nothing.\n\nIt is a very general impression with rationalists and rationalizing\nProtestants, that whoso asserts the free exercise of reason denies\nthe authority of the church, and that whoso recognizes the authority\nof the church necessarily denies reason and abdicates his own\nmanhood, which is as much as to say that whoso asserts man denies\nGod, and whoso asserts God denies man. These people forget that the\nbest of all possible reasons for believing any thing is the word,\nthat is, the authority of God, and that the highest possible exercise\nof one's manhood is in humble and willing obedience to the law or\nwill of God. All belief, as distinguished from knowledge, is on\nauthority of some sort, and the only question to be asked in any case\nis, Is the authority sufficient? I believe there were such persons\nas Alexander the Great, Julius C\u00e6sar, Charlemagne, Louis XIV.,\nRobespierre, and George Washington, on the authority of history, the\nlast two, also, on the testimony of eye-witnesses, or persons who\nhave assured me that they had seen and known them personally; yet in\nthe case of them all, my belief is belief on authority. On authority,\nI believe the great events recorded in sacred and profane history,\nthe building of the Temple of Jerusalem in the reign of Solomon,\nthe captivity of the Jews, their return to Judea under the kings of\nPersia, the building of the second temple, the conquest of Jerusalem\nby Titus and the Roman army, the invasion of the Roman empire by the\nnorthern barbarians, who finally overthrew it, the event called the\nreformation, the thirty years' war, etc. Nothing is more unreasonable\nor more insane than to believe any thing on no authority; that is,\nwith no reason for believing it. To believe without authority for\nbelieving is to believe without reason, and practically a denial of\nreason itself.\n\nCatholics, in fact, are the only people in the world who do, can,\nor dare reason in matters of religion. Indeed, they are the only\npeople who have a reasonable faith, and who believe only what they\nhave adequate reasons for believing. They are also the only people\nwho recognize no human authority, not even one's own, in matters of\nChristian faith and conscience. Sectarians and rationalists claim to\nbe free, and to reason freely, because, as they pretend, they are\nbound by no human authority, and recognize no authority in faith but\ntheir own reason. Yet why should my reason be for me or any one else\nbetter authority for believing than yours? My authority is as human\nas yours, and if yours is not a sufficient reason for my faith, how\ncan my own suffice, which is no better, perhaps not so good? As a\nfact, no man is less free than he who has for his faith no authority\nbut his own reason; for he is, if he thinks at all, necessarily\nalways in doubt as to what he ought or ought not to believe; and\nno man who is in doubt, who is unable to determine what he is or is\nnot required to believe in order to believe the truth, is or can be\nmentally free. From this doubt only the Catholic is free; for he only\nhas the authority of God, who can neither deceive nor be deceived,\nfor his faith.\n\nIt is a great mistake to suppose that the Catholic believes what\nthe church believes and teaches on any human authority. To assume\nit begs the whole question. The act of faith the Catholic makes is,\n\"O my God! I believe all the sacred truths the Holy Catholic Church\nbelieves and teaches, _because_ thou hast revealed them, who canst\nneither deceive nor be deceived.\" The church can declare to be of\nfaith only what God has revealed, and her authority in faith is the\nauthority not of the law-maker, but of the witness and interpreter\nof the law. In faith we believe the word of God, we believe God on\nhis word; in the last analysis, that God is true, _Deus est verax_.\nBetter authority than the word of God there is not and cannot be,\nand nothing is or can be more reasonable than to believe that God is\ntrue, or to believe God on his word, without a voucher.\n\nThat the church is a competent and credible witness in the case, or\nan adequate authority for believing that God has revealed what she\nbelieves and teaches as his word, can be as conclusively proved as\nthe competency and credibility of a witness in any case in court\nwhatever. She was an eye and ear-witness of the life, works, death,\nand resurrection of our Lord, who is at once perfect God and perfect\nman; she received the divine word directly from him, and is the\ncontemporary and living witness of what he taught and commanded. The\nchurch has never for a moment ceased to exist, but has continued from\nChrist to us as one identical living body that suffers no decay and\nknows no succession of years; with her nothing has been forgotten,\nfor nothing has fallen into the past. The whole revelation of God is\ncontinually present to her mind and heart. She is, then, a competent\nwitness; for she knows all the facts to which she is required to\ntestify. She is a credible witness; for God himself has appointed,\ncommissioned, authorized her to bear witness for him to all nations\nand ages, even unto the consummation of the world, and has promised\nto be with her, and to send to her assistance the Paraclete, the\nSpirit of Truth, who should recall to her mind whatsoever he had\ntaught her, and lead her into all truth. The divine commission or\nauthorization to teach carries with it the pledge of infallibility\nin teaching; for God cannot be the accomplice of a false teacher,\nor one who is even liable to err. What surrender is there of one's\nreason, judgment, free-will, manhood, in believing the testimony of a\ncompetent and credible witness?\n\nIn point of fact, the case is even stronger than we put it. The\nchurch is the body of Christ, and in her dwelleth the Holy Ghost.\nShe is human in her members, no doubt; but she is divine as well as\nhuman in her head. The human and divine natures, though for ever\ndistinct, are united in one divine person by the hypostatic union.\nThis one divine Person, the Word that was made flesh, or assumed\nflesh, for our redemption and glorification, is the person of the\nchurch, who through him lives a divine as well as a human life. It\nis God who speaks in her voice as it was God who spoke in the voice\nof the Son of Mary, that died on the cross, that rose from the dead,\nand ascended into heaven, whence he shall come again to judge the\nquick and the dead. Hence, we have not only the word of God as the\nauthority for believing his revelation, but his authority in the\nwitness to the fact that it is his revelation or his word that we\nbelieve. We may even go further still, and state that the Holy Ghost\nbeareth witness within us with our spirits in concurrence with the\nexternal witness to the same fact, so that it may be strengthened by\nthe mouth of two witnesses. More ample means of attesting the truth\nand leaving the unbeliever without excuse are not possible in the\nnature of things.\n\nIt is not, then, the Catholic who contradicts himself; for between\nthe free exercise of reason and complete submission to the authority\nof the church, as both are understood by Catholics, there is no\ncontradiction, no contrariety even. Faith, by the fact that it is\nfaith, differs necessarily from science. It is not intuitive or\ndiscursive knowledge, but simply analogical knowledge. But reason\nin itself cannot go beyond what is intuitively apprehended, or\ndiscursively obtained, that is, obtained from intuitive data either\nby way of deduction or induction. In either case, what is apprehended\nor obtained is knowledge, not belief or faith. To believe and to\nknow are not one and the same thing; and whatever reason by itself\ncan judge of comes under the head of science, not faith; whence\nit follows that reason can never judge of the intrinsic truth or\nfalsehood of the matter of faith; for if it could, faith would\nbe sight, and in no sense faith. If we recognize such a thing as\nfaith at all, we must recognize something which transcends or does\nnot fall under the direct cognizance of reason; and therefore that\nwhich reason does not know, and can affirm only as accredited by\nsome authority distinct from reason. The Catholic asserts faith\non authority, certainly, but on an authority which reason herself\nholds to be sufficient. True, he does not submit the question of its\ntruth or falsehood to the judgment of reason; for that would imply a\ncontradiction--that faith is not faith, but sight or knowledge. This\nis the mistake of sectarians and rationalists, who deny authority in\nmatters of faith. They practically deny reason, by demanding of it\nwhat exceeds its powers; and faith, by insisting on submitting it\nto the judgment of reason, and denying that we have or can have any\nreason for believing what transcends reason. It ill becomes them,\ntherefore, to accuse Catholics of contradicting themselves, when they\nassert the rights of reason in its own order, and the necessity of\nauthority in matters of faith, or matters that transcend reason. They\nthemselves, according to their own principles, have, and can have\nno authority for believing; and therefore, if they believe at all,\nthey do and must believe without reason; and belief without reason is\nsimple fancy, caprice, whim, prejudice, opinion, not faith.\n\nBut the _Christian Quarterly_ is not alone in imagining a\ncontradiction between reason and authority. The whole modern\nmind assumes it, and imagines a contradiction wherever it finds\ntwo extremes, or two opposites. It has lost the middle term that\nbrings them together and unites them in a logical synthesis. To\nit, natural and supernatural, nature and grace, reason and faith,\nscience and revelation, liberty and authority, church and state,\nheaven and earth, God and man--are irreconciliable extremes; and not\ntwo extremes only, but downright contradictions, which necessarily\nexclude each other. It does not, even if it accepts both terms,\naccept them as reconciled, or united as two parts of one whole; but\neach as exclusive, and warring against the other, and each doing its\nbest to destroy the other.\n\nHence the modern mind is, so to speak, bisected by a painful dualism,\nwhich weakens its power, lowers its character, and destroys the\nunity and efficiency of intellectual life. We meet every day men\nwho, on one side, assert supernatural faith, revelation, grace,\nauthority, and, on the other, pure naturalism, which excludes every\nthing supernatural or divine. On the one side of their intelligence,\nnothing but God and grace, and on the other, nothing but man and\nnature. Indeed, the contradiction runs through nearly the whole\nmodern intellectual world, and is not encountered among the heterodox\nonly. We find even men who mean to be orthodox, think they are\northodox, and are sincerely devoted to the interests of religion,\nwho yet see no real or logical connection between their faith as\nCatholics and their principles as statesmen, or their theories as\nscientists.\n\nThe two terms, or series of terms, of course, must be accepted,\nand neither can be denied without equally denying the other. The\nobjection is not that both are asserted, but that they are asserted\nas contradictories; for no contradiction in the real world, which is\nthe world of truth, is admissible. The Creator of the world is the\nLogos, is logic in itself, and therefore, as the Scripture saith,\nmakes all things by number, weight, and measure. All his works are\ndialectic, and form a self-consistent whole; for, as St. Thomas says,\nhe is the type of all things--_Deus est similitudo rerum omnium_.\nThere must then be, somewhere, the mediator, or middle term which\nunites the two extremes, and in which their apparent contradiction\nis lost, and they are opposed only as two parts of one uniform whole.\nThe defect of the modern mind is that it has lost this middle term,\nand men retain in their life the dualism we have pointed out, because\nthey do not see that the conflicting elements are not harmonizable\nin their intelligence; or, because they have lost the conception of\nreality, and are false to the true principle of things.\n\nIn the early ages of the church, the fathers had no occasion to\ntake care that reason and nature should be preserved, for no one\ndreamed of denying them. All their efforts were needed to bring out\nand vindicate the other series of terms, God, the supernatural,\nrevelation, grace, faith, which was denied or perverted by the\nworld they had to war against. The ascetic writers, again, having\nfor their object the right disciplining of human nature through\ngrace, which includes revelation and faith, as well as the elevation\nand assistance of nature and reason, had just as little occasion\nto assert reason and nature, for they assumed them, and their\nvery labors implied them. Grace, or the supernatural, was rarely\nexaggerated or set forth as exclusive. The danger came chiefly from\nthe opposite quarter, from Pelagianism, or the assertion of the\nsufficiency of nature without grace.\n\nWhen, however, the reformers appeared, the danger shifted sides.\nThe doctrines of the reformation, the doctrines of grace, as they\nare called by evangelicals, were an exaggerated and exclusive\nsupernaturalism. The reformers did not merely assert the\ninsufficiency of reason and nature, but went further, and asserted\ntheir total depravity, and utter worthlessness in the Christian\nlife. They made man not merely passive under grace, but actively and\nnecessarily opposed to it, resisting it always with all his might,\nand to be overcome only by sovereign grace, the _gratia victrix_ of\nthe Jansenists. The church met this and its kindred errors in the\nholy Council of Trent, and while affirming the supernatural element,\nand defining the sphere and office of grace, rescued nature and\nreaffirmed its part in the work of life. But error has no principle\nand is bound to no consistency, and the Catholic has ever since\nhad to defend nature against the exclusive supernaturalists, and\ngrace against the exclusive naturalists; reason, for instance,\nagainst the traditionalists, and revelation and authority against\nthe rationalists. To do this, it has been and still is necessary to\ndistinguish between the two orders, nature and grace, natural and\nsupernatural, reason and faith.\n\nBut we find a very considerable number of men who are not exclusively\nsupernaturalists, nor exclusively rationalists, but who are\nsyncretists, or both at once. They accept both orders in their mutual\nexclusiveness, and alternately, rather, simultaneously, assert\nexclusive supernaturalism, and exclusive rationalism. This is the\ncase with the great mass of Protestants, who retain any reminiscences\nof grace, and even with some Catholics in countries where Jansenism\nonce had its stronghold, and where traces of its influence may still\nbe detected with people who deny its formally heretical propositions,\nand accept the papal constitutions condemning them. The two extremes\nare seen, and both are accepted; but the mediator between them,\nor the truth which conciliates or harmonizes them, seems to be\noverlooked or not understood. Of course, Catholic theology asserts\nit, and is in reality based on it; but, some how or other, the age\ndoes not seize it, and the prevailing philosophy does not recognize\nit.\n\nThe problem for our age, it seems to us, is to revive it, and show\nthe conciliation of the two extremes. The labor of theologians and\nphilosophers is not, indeed, to find a new and unknown truth or\nmedium of reconciliation, as so many pretend, but to bring out to the\ndull and enfeebled understanding of our times the great truth, always\nasserted by Catholic theology, which conciliates all extremes by\npresenting the real and living synthesis of things. This Father Hewit\nhas attempted and in great part achieved in his _Problems of the Age_.\n\nThere can be no question that the dominant philosophy, especially\nwith the heterodox, does not present the conditions of solving\nthis problem, and the scholastic philosophy, as taught in Catholic\nschools, needs to be somewhat differently developed and expressed\nbefore the age can see in it the solution demanded. According to\nthe philosophy generally received since Des Cartes, the natural and\nsupernatural are not only distinct, but separate orders, and reason\nwithout any aid from revelation is competent to construct from her\nown materials a complete science of the rational order. It supposes\nthe two orders to be independent each of the other, and each complete\nin itself. Reason has nothing to do with faith, and faith has nothing\nto do with reason. The church has no jurisdiction in philosophy, the\nsciences, politics, or natural society; philosophers, physicists,\nstatesmen, seculars, so long as they keep in the rational order, are\nindependent of the spiritual authority, are under no obligation to\nconsult revelation, or to conform to the teachings of faith. Hence\nthe dual life men live, and the absurdity of maintaining in one order\nwhat they contradict in another.\n\nThis, we need not say, is all wrong. The two orders are distinct,\nnot separate and mutually independent orders, nor parallel orders\nwith no real or logical relation between them. They are, in reality,\nonly two parts of one and the same whole. We do not undertake to\nsay what God could or could not have done had he chosen. If he\ncould have created man and left him in a state of pure nature, as\nhe has the animals, we know he has not done so. He has created man\nfor a supernatural destiny, and placed him under a supernatural or\ngracious providence, so that, as a fact, man is never in a state of\npure nature. He aspires to a supernatural reward, and is liable to\na supernatural punishment. His life is always above pure nature,\nor below it. The highest natural virtue is imperfect, and no sin\nis simply a sin against the natural law. The natural is not the\nsupernatural, but was never intended to subsist without it. The\nsupernatural is not an interpolation in the divine plan of creation,\nnor something superinduced upon it, but is a necessary complement of\nthe natural, which never is or can be completed in the natural alone.\nIn the divine plan, the two orders are coeval, always coexist, and\noperate simultaneously to one and the same end, as integral parts\nof one whole. The natural, endowed with reason and free-will, may\nresist the supernatural, or refuse to co-operate with it; but if it\ndoes so, it must remain inchoate, incomplete, an existence commenced\nyet remaining for ever unfulfilled, which is the condition of the\nreprobate. A true and adequate philosophy explains man's origin,\nmedium, and end; and no such philosophy can be constructed by reason\nalone; for these are supernatural, and are fully known only through a\nsupernatural revelation.\n\nThe natural demands the supernatural; so also does the supernatural\ndemand the natural. If there were no nature, there could be nothing\nabove nature; there would be nothing for grace to operate on, to\nassist, or complete. If man had no reason, he could receive no\nrevelation; if he had no free-will, he could have no virtue, no\nsanctity; if not generated, he could not be regenerated; and if not\nregenerated, he could not be glorified, or attain to the end for\nwhich he is intended. To deny nature is to deny the creative act of\nGod, and to fall into pantheism--a sophism, for pantheism is denied\nin its very assertion. Its assertion implies the assertor, and\ntherefore something capable of acting, and therefore a substantive\nexistence, distinguishable from God. The denial of God, as creator,\nis the denial alike of man, the natural, and the supernatural. To\nsolve the problem, and remove the dualism which bisects the modern\nmind, it is necessary to study the Creator's works in the light of\nthe Creator's plan, and as a whole, in the whole course or itinerary\nof their existence, or in their procession from him as first cause,\nto their return to him as final cause, and not piecemeal, as isolated\nor unrelated facts. If we know not this plan, which no study of the\nworks themselves can reveal to us, we can never get at the meaning\nof a single the smallest part, far less attain to any thing like\nthe science of the universe; for the meaning of each part is in its\nrelation to the whole. What is the meaning of this grain of sand\non the sea-shore, or this mosquito, this gnat, these animalcul\u00e6\ninvisible to the naked eye? Have they no meaning, no purpose in the\nCreator's plan? What can you, by reason, know of that purpose or\nmeaning, if you know not that plan? Your physical sciences, without a\nknowledge of that plan, are no sciences at all, and give you no more\nconception of the universe than a specimen brick from its walls can\ngive you of the city of Babylon.\n\nThough that plan is and can be known only as revealed by God himself,\nyet when once known we may see analogies and proofs of it in all\nthe Creator's works, and study with profit the several parts of the\nuniverse, and attain to real science of them; for then we can study\nthem in their synthesis, or their relation to the whole. We may then\nhave rational science, not built on revelation, but constructed by\nreason in the light of revelation. We do not make revelation the\nbasis of the natural sciences. They are all constructed by reason,\nacting with its own power, but under the supervision, so to speak, of\nfaith, which reveals to it the plan or purpose of creation, to which\nit must conform in its deductions and inductions, if they are to have\nany scientific value. If it operates in disregard of revelation,\nwithout the light radiating from the Creator's plan, reason can know\nobjects only in their isolation, as separate and unrelated facts or\nphenomena, and therefore never know them, as they really are, or in\ntheir real significance; because nothing in the universe exists in\na state of isolation, or by and for itself alone; but every thing\nthat exists, exists and is significant only in its relation to\nthe whole. It is a mistake, then, to assume that the church, the\nwitness, guardian, and interpreter of the faith or revelation, has\nnothing to say to philosophy, or to the physical sciences, cosmogony,\ngeology, physiology, history, or even political science. None of\nthem are or can be true sciences, any further than they present\nthe several classes of facts and phenomena of which they treat in\ntheir respective relations and subordination to the divine plan of\ncreation, known only by the revelation committed to the church.\n\nThe principle of the solution of the problem, or the middle term\nthat unites the two extremes, or the natural and the supernatural,\nin a real and living synthesis, or reconciles all opposites, is the\ncreative act of God. The supernatural is God himself, and what he\ndoes immediately without using any natural agencies; the natural is\nwhat God creates with the power to act as second cause, and what he\ndoes only through second causes, or so-called natural laws. Nothing\nis natural that is not explicable by natural laws, and nothing so\nexplicable is properly supernatural, though it may be superhuman. A\nmiracle is an effect of which God is the immediate cause, and which\ncan be referred to no natural or second cause; a natural event is one\nof which God is not the direct and immediate cause, but only first\ncause--_Causa eminens_, or cause of its direct and immediate cause.\nThe copula or _nexus_ that unites the natural and supernatural in\none dialectic whole, is the creative act of the supernatural, or\nGod, which produces the natural and holds it joined to its cause.\nCreatures are not separable from their Creator; for in him they\nlive and move and are, or have their being; and were he to separate\nhimself from them, or suspend his creative act, they would instantly\ndrop into the nothing they were before he produced them. The relation\nbetween them and him is their relation of entire dependence on him\nfor all they are, all they have, and all they can do. There is, then,\nno ground of antagonism between him and them. If man aspires to\nact independently of God, he simply aspires to be himself God, and\nbecomes--nothing.\n\nBut we have not exhausted the creative act. God creates all things\nfor an end, and this end is himself; not that he may gain something\nfor himself, or increase his own beatitude, which is eternally\ncomplete, and can be neither augmented nor diminished, but that he\nmay communicate of his beatitude to creatures which he has called\ninto existence. Hence God is first cause and final cause. We proceed\nfrom him as first cause, and return to him as final cause, as we have\nshown again and again in the magazine with all the necessary proofs.\n\nBetween God as final cause, and his creatures, the mediator is the\nIncarnate Word, or the man Christ Jesus, the only mediator between\nGod and men. In Christ Jesus is hypostatically united in one divine\nperson the divine nature and the human, which, however, remain for\never distinct, without intermixture or confusion. This union is\neffected by the creative act, which in it is carried to its summit.\nThe hypostatic union completes the first cycle or procession of\nexistences from God as first cause, and initiates their return to him\nas final cause, as we have said in our remarks on _Primeval Man_. It\ncompletes generation and initiates the regeneration, or palingenesiac\norder, which has its completion or fulfilment in glorification,\nthe intuitive vision of God by the light of glory, or, as say the\nschoolmen, _ens supernaturale_.\n\nTheologians understand usually, by the supernatural order, the order\nfounded by the Incarnation or hypostatic union, the regeneration\npropagated by the election of grace, instead of natural generation.\nBut between the natural and the supernatural, in this sense, the\n_nexus_ or middle term is the creative act effecting the hypostatic\nunion, or God himself mediating in his human nature. The Incarnation\nunites God and man, without intermixture or confusion, in one and\nthe same divine Person, and also the order of generation with the\norder of regeneration, of which glorification is the crown. But\nas the two natures remain for ever distinct but inseparable in\none person, so, in the order of regeneration, the natural and the\nsupernatural are each preserved in its distinctive though inseparable\nactivity.\n\nThese three terms, generation, regeneration, glorification, one in\nthe creative act of God, cover the entire life of man, and in each\nthe natural and supernatural, distinct but inseparable, remain and\nco-operate and act. There is no dualism in the world of reality,\nand none is apparent--except the distinction between God and\ncreature--when the Creator's works are seen as a whole, in their real\nrelation and synthesis. The dualism results in the mind from studying\nthe Creator's works in their analytic divisions, instead of their\nsynthetic relations; especially from taking the first cycle or order\nof generation as an independent order, complete in itself, demanding\nnothing beyond itself, and constituting the whole life of man,\ninstead of taking it, as it really is, only as the beginning, the\ninitial, or the inchoate stage of life, subordinated to the second\ncycle, the teleological order, or regeneration and glorification, in\nwhich alone is its complement, perfection, ultimate end, for which\nit has been created, and exists. Our age falls into its heresies,\nunbeliefs, and intellectual anarchy and confusion, because it\nundertakes to separate what God has joined together--philosophy from\ntheology, reason from faith, science from revelation, nature from\ngrace--and refuses to study the works and providence of God in their\nsynthetic relations, in which alone is their true meaning.\n\nThe Positivists understand very well the anarchy that reigns in the\nmodern intellectual world, and the need of a doctrine which can unite\nin one all the scattered and broken rays of intelligence and command\nthe adhesion of all minds. The church, they say, once had such a\ndoctrine, and for a thousand years led the progress of science and\nsociety. Protestants, they assert, have never had, and never, as\nProtestants, can have any doctrine of the sort, and the church has it\nno longer. It is nowhere set forth except in the writings of Auguste\nComte, who obtains it not from revelation, theology, or metaphysics,\nbut from the sciences, or the positive facts of nature studied in\ntheir synthetic relations. But unhappily, though right in asserting\nthe necessity of a grand synthetic doctrine which shall embrace all\nthe knowable and all the real, they forget that facts cannot be\nstudied in their synthetic relations unless the mind is previously\nin possession of the grand synthetic doctrine which embraces and\nexplains them, while the doctrine itself cannot be had till they are\nso studied. They must take the end as the means of gaining the end!\nThis is a hard case, for till they get the synthetic formula they can\nonly have unrelated facts, hypotheses, and conjectures, with no means\nof verifying them. They are not likely to succeed. Starting from\nanarchy, they can only arrive at anarchy. Only God can move by his\nSpirit over chaos, and bring order out of confusion and light out of\ndarkness.\n\nMoreover, the Positivists do not reconcile the conflicting elements;\nfor they suppress one of the two series of terms, and relegate God,\nthe supernatural, principles, causes, and supersensible relations\ninto the region of the unknowable, and include in their grand\nsynthesis only positive sensible facts or phenomena and their\nphysical laws. They thus restrict man's existence to the first\ncycle, and exclude the second or palingenesiac order, in which alone\nreigns the moral law. The first or initial cycle does not contain the\nword of the _\u00e6nigma_. It does not exist for itself, and therefore is\nnot and cannot be intelligible in or by itself. If they could succeed\nin removing the anarchy complained of, they would do so by ignorance,\nnot science, and harmonize all intelligences only by annihilating\nthem.\n\nNor is it true that the church has lost or abandoned her grand\nsynthetic doctrine, or that her synthesis has ceased to be complete,\nor sufficiently comprehensive. Her doctrine is Christianity; and\nChristianity leaves out no ancient or modern science; has not\nbeen and cannot be outgrown by any actual or possible progress of\nintelligence; for it embraces at once all the real and all the\nknowable, _reale omne et scibile_. If the church fails to command\nthe adhesion of all minds, it is not because any minds have advanced\nin science beyond her, or have attained to any truth or virtue she\nhas not; but because they have fallen below her, have become too\ncontracted and grovelling in their views to grasp the elevation and\nuniversality of her doctrine. She still leads the civilized world,\nand commands the faith and love of the really enlightened portion of\nmankind. The reason why so many in our age refuse her their adhesion\nis not because her doctrine or mode or manner of presenting it are\ndefective, but because they are engrossed with the development and\napplication of the physical or natural laws, or with the first or\ninitial cycle, and exhaust themselves in the production, exchange,\nand accumulation of physical goods, which, however attractive to\nthe inchoate or physical man, are of no moral or religious value.\nThe cause is not in the church but in them; in the fact that their\nminds and hearts are set on those things only after which the heathen\nseek; and they have no relish for any truth that pertains to the\nteleological or moral order.\n\nThe church does not object to the study of the natural or physical\nsciences, nor to the accumulation of material wealth; but she does\nobject to making the initial order the teleological, and to the\ncultivation of the sciences or study of the physical laws for their\nown sake; for, with her, not knowledge but wisdom is the principal\nthing. She requires the physical and psychological sciences to\nbe cultivated for the sake of the ultimate end of man, and in\nsubordination to the Christian law which that end prescribes. So of\nmaterial wealth; she does not censure its production, its exchange,\nor its accumulation, if honestly done, and in subordination to the\nend for which man is created. What she demands of us is that we\nconform to the Creator's plan, and esteem things according to their\ntrue order and place in that plan. She tolerates no falsehood in\nthought, word, or deed.\n\nThe natural is not suppressed or injured by being subordinated to the\nsupernatural, for it can be fulfilled only in the supernatural. We\nfind the indications of this in nature herself. There are, indeed,\ntheologians who talk of a natural beatitude; but whether possible\nor not, God has not so made us that we can find our beatitude in\nnature; that is, in the creature or a created good. He has made us\nfor himself, and the soul can be satisfied with nothing less. This\nis the great fact elaborated by Father Hecker in his _Questions of\nthe Soul_, and his _Aspirations of Nature_. In the first work, he\nshows that the soul asks questions which nature cannot answer, but\nwhich are answered in the supernatural; in the second, he shows\nthat nature desires, craves, aspires to, and has a capacity for, the\nsupernatural; that the soul is conscious of wants which only the\nsupernatural can fill. Man has, as St. Thomas teaches, a natural\ndesire to see God in the beatific vision; that is, to see him as he\nis in himself; to be like him, to partake of his divine nature, to\npossess him, and be filled with him. This alone can satisfy the soul,\nand hence holy Job says, \"I shall be satisfied when I awake in thy\nlikeness.\"\n\nThere can be no real antagonism between the natural and the\nsupernatural; for there can be none between nature and its Creator,\nand equally none between it and its fulfilment, or supreme good.\nThere is none, we have shown, between reason and faith, any more\nthan there is between the eye and the telescope, which extends its\nrange of vision, and enables it to see what it could not see without\nit. There can be none between science and revelation; when the\nscience is real science and is cultivated not for itself alone, but\nas a means to the true end of man; and there can be none between\nearth and heaven, when the earth is regarded solely as a medium and\nnot confounded with the end. There can be none between liberty and\nauthority; for man can be man, possess himself, be himself, and\nfree only by living in conformity to the law of his existence, or\naccording to the plan of the Creator; and finally there can be none\nbetween church and state, if the state remembers that it is in the\nteleological order, and under the moral law, therefore subordinated\nto the spiritual order.\n\nWe have passed over a great number of important questions, several\nof which, on starting, we intended to consider, and some of which we\nmay take up hereafter; but we have given, we think, the principle\nthat solves the problem of the age, and shows that the dualism which\nruns through and disturbs so many minds has no foundation either\nin the teaching of the church or in the real order. The Creator's\nworks all hang together, are all parts of one uniform plan, and\nthe realization _ad extra_ of one divine thought, of which the\narchetype is in his own infinite, eternal, and ineffable essence. The\ntrouble with men is, that many of them do not see that the church\nis catholic, even when professing to believe it; because their own\nminds are not catholic. They often suppose they are broader than the\nchurch, because they are too narrow to see her breadth. They also\nfancy that there are fields of science which they may cultivate which\nlie beyond her catholicity, and concerning which they are under no\nobligation to consult her. This shows that they understand neither\nher catholicity nor the nature, conditions, and end of science. They\ncontract the church to their own narrow dimensions.\n\nWe conclude by saying that the men who undertake to criticise the\nchurch, and to unchurch her, are men who want breadth, depth, and\nelevation. They are mole-eyed, and have slender claims to be regarded\nas really enlightened, large-minded, large-hearted men.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[1] _The Christian Quarterly._ Cincinnati: Carroll & Co. July, 1869.\nArt IV. Spirit of Romanism.\n\n\n\n\nSACRED AMBITION.\n\n\n    Hast thou indeed\n      Sacred ambition,\n    In word and deed\n      Based on contrition?\n    Pray low and long,\n      Sowing and weeping;\n    Promises strong\n      Pledge thee thy reaping.\n\n    Thus hast thou prayed?\n      Wait then contented;\n    Blessings delayed\n      Are blessings augmented.\n    Every thing proves\n      Holy ambition\n    Is what God loves\n      Next to contrition.\n\n\n\n\nTRANSLATED FROM LE CORRESPONDANT.\n\nPAGANINA.\n\n\nXVIII.\n\nWe must not conclude that Master Swibert gave only a musical\neducation to his child. His instruction was solid, and intended,\nbeyond every thing, to develop in her a religious sentiment.\n\nFor metaphysics he had a love that years had not lessened. His\nphilosophy was very simple; a few lines could comprise it--only what\nhe took a liking to; and he never pretended to have invented it.\n\nHis soul exercised itself in applying every creature as a connection\nwith the Infinite. He said summarily that if a thinker could not so\ncomprehend things, he retarded his progress and lost his end.\n\nPaganina could not always understand her father, but this did not\ndistress him. Like the good laborer, he sowed thickly the land he had\nprepared, knowing well that much would be lost; but knowing, too,\nthat he would come, some day, and find the luxuriant verdure that\nwould repay his pains.\n\nThe young girl adopted with eagerness all that could elevate\ncharacter and ennoble life. Happy to repose in the artistic emotions\nthat shook her so deeply, she relaxed into the serene contemplation\nof the truth toward which her father conducted her.\n\n\nXIX.\n\nSuch, in its principal characteristics, is the life Paganina led\nuntil she was twenty-two years of age. Her beauty had developed\nradiantly. She held her head aloft, as one who looks on high; and\nher eyes so sought the distance that she won the name of proud from\nthe good women who met her in their daily walks.\n\nShe never was without her father, and the contrast between the two\nwas painful. He was an old man--more from the effect of sickness than\nold age; and although he appeared active, it was easy to see that,\nundermined by an inward malady, he would soon be completely wrecked.\n\nHe felt it himself, and employed all his strength to instruct and\nenlighten his daughter.\n\nWithout saddening her in advance, by announcing his approaching\nmalady, he endeavored to accustom her to a future separation, but she\ncould not comprehend it. The last thing in which youth can believe is\nthe rupture of holy affections. It never learns that such love can be\ninterrupted.\n\nOne day, Master Swibert and his daughter were seated at the turn\nof the road, where they generally rested in their daily walk. The\norganist returned to the subject with which his mind was always\npreoccupied--that future in which he had no part--and finished by\nsaying, \"My daughter, your cousin loves you. What he felt for you\nhere he has not lost by separation; his heart is devotedly yours. You\nare all in all to him, and I have long understood his affection for\nyou. I should feel happy to know you returned his love.\"\n\nPaganina, surprised, replied, \"I love but you, my father; must\nyou leave me?\" The organist replied by this verse of St. Paul,\n\"_Insipiens: tu quod seminas, non vivificatur, nisi prius moriatur_\",\nand Paganina, who did not know Latin, began to weep.\n\nFrom this day, Master Swibert declined rapidly. He made what he\ncalled his will; his last instructions, only to arm his daughter\nfor the struggles of life. He urged her to see, through him,\nthe immortality of the soul; so especially visible in the early\nChristians, in the mournful hour when, their bodies, falling to ruin,\nbetrayed the interior flame that disengaged them from earth, to shine\nfor ever among the stars in unfading lustre.\n\nAfter several days of agony, the good musician found his peroration.\nHe died.\n\nIt was morning. He had talked a long time with his daughter, and\nthe peace he enjoyed announced the end of the struggle. His large,\ntroubled eyes looked once more toward the mountain, on her, and on\nhis crucifix, then closed for ever.\n\n\nXX.\n\nThe world--even the best of it--don't like to be entertained with the\nsufferings of others; so I will not stop to relate those of Paganina.\nI will pause longer on the chapter of her consolations. She drew\nthese from two sources, her memories and her labors.\n\nHer memories were realities. She felt that her father had never\nleft her; and lived in his presence, meditating on and practising\nhis lessons. Her ardor for the study of her art redoubled. Often in\nthe silence of the night, at a late hour, her voice was heard by an\nadmiring crowd beneath her window. The young artist, without knowing\nor desiring it, became popular.\n\nShe had other joys, too, which helped her to live her isolated\nlife. It is not of those of love I speak. Paganina did not know the\npassion. She lived apart from the world, and her character became\nhalf legendary. Fancy held play where love was excluded; and in the\nregions of the ideal grew her immortal works, and their imperishable\nbeauty, to be shed on humanity.\n\nPerhaps the memory of such things should only be intruded on the very\nfew; for it is said that often a ray from on high illuminated the\nchamber where the young girl sat, and in that moment she felt a new\nworld tremble in her heart.\n\n\nXXI.\n\nHappiness is not the guest of earth. The miserable and deceptive\npleasure that pretends to this glorious name is a bait rather than\na food, and never nourishes any body. Therefore such moments as we\nhave spoken of are fugitive, and are mostly followed by exhaustion\nand bitter disgust, which would be a good price for them, could such\nmoments be paid for. Paganina experienced the common law. She could\nnot live on ecstasy. Her days, therefore, were mingled and diverse.\n\nI must relate the crisis of her life; but I turn with regret to\nthe chamber that sheltered her genius and her innocence. I see in\nspirit--shut in this place--a treasure that no one was permitted to\ncontemplate; for Paganina bloomed in the shade, and reserved for her\nsolitude her beauty and the perfume of her loveliness.\n\nSometimes, only when debauch slept and idleness prolonged its useless\nrepose, the beautiful young girl appeared before her opened window.\nRobed with the reflection of the aurora, she saluted the growing\nday; and, as the antique statue, she exhaled divine harmony by\ncontact with its earliest rays.\n\n\nXXII.\n\nHaving, not without success, terminated his musical studies, Andr\u00e9\nquitted Naples. His affection for his cousin had greatly increased.\nLove sang in his heart; for, if we may borrow such an expression from\nthe poetical vocabulary, it assuredly belongs to a musician.\n\nFrom the day he was free, he had but one desire--to see Paganina. He\nset out with this intention, and restless regarding his reception.\nIndeed, his future depended upon it.\n\nDuring the journey, his thoughts went ahead, and heaped up every\nimaginable supposition on the manner in which his cousin would\nreceive him; but she did not receive him at all. He entered a\ndeserted mansion.\n\nHe wandered among the deserted places, where every thing recalled the\ndays of his childhood. Death had passed by, and left, perhaps, some\nunknown scourge. In his poignant distress, he imagined the worst.\n\nPerhaps he did not deceive himself. Paganina was to appear the next\nday at the theatre of Milan.\n\nI must add that she was always worthy of her father, in the strictest\nsense of the word; though for three months, it is true, in order\nto prepare herself for the stage, she had mixed in the world of\nthe theatres, and, what is far worse, in the world of parasites,\ninsinuating themselves by every means and with every end. She\nbreathed a poisoned air in the incense of impure flatteries. Her\nbitter contempt prevented its injuring her; but as soon as she was\nfree, she ran to conceal her wounds in a retreat where no one could\ndiscover her.\n\n\nXXIII.\n\n     Extract from the _Gazette of Lombardy_, the 20th of September,\n     18--.\n\n     \"Her father was German, her mother an Italian; her father belonged\n     to the church, her mother to the theatre. Both were superior\n     musicians. Such a birth could promise her a more than common\n     destiny, and this birth had a singular predestination. She was\n     born in the side-scenes of the theatre during a _soir\u00e9e_, the\n     memory of which is still fresh among us. Her first cries were\n     drowned in the passionate strains of the violin of Paganini, and\n     the bursts of admiration from his auditory. The little creature,\n     as if in reply to the powerful invocation of the master, appeared\n     before the hour fixed by nature.\n\n     \"This is all her history. From that hour she disappeared. Without\n     doubt, the new-born vestal sought the retreat of the sacred fire.\n\n     \"To-day she returns to the place of her birth. The words are\n     literally true; we will hear her this evening in La Scala.\n\n     \"I have desired to announce this _f\u00eate_. Let no one fail to be\n     there, for I predict it will be an event.\n\n     \"My task is finished. I would like to describe this cantatrice,\n     but she belongs to no formula. It would require two to express the\n     dualism of which her person and character bear the imprint.\n\n     \"She seems to have received from her parents two natures which by\n     turns inspire her. Even now we hear her pure and original voice\n     mount to heaven; no breath of human passion seems to agitate it.\n     We listen enchanted, lifted far above ourselves, and share the\n     serenity, the peace she inspires; suddenly the air changes, the\n     color mounts to her cheeks, passion absorbs her, and she bursts\n     out in its most marvellous tones. I could see the spectre of the\n     old Paganini grimacing by the side of his beautiful god-child, and\n     goading on her enchained genius.\"\n\n\nXXIV.\n\nThe result was as predicted. The young cantatrice excited immense\nenthusiasm.\n\nThe Italians are quickly roused, and never sell the evidences of\ntheir admiration. To show more than ordinary emotion, they invent\nunheard-of and extravagant expressions.\n\nWhen Paganina could withdraw from these ovations, the night was far\nadvanced; she took refuge in solitude.\n\nLet us follow her. It will be curious to observe in her the\nintoxication of applause, and see how she bore her first triumph--she\nwho had elicited such flattering testimony of love and admiration.\n\nShe wept, but not with happy emotions.\n\n\"My father,\" she cried, \"my father, you are already revenged. To\npunish me, you have fulfilled my desires. I wished for the clatter\nof applause, for the tumult of bravos. I am satisfied already. Is it\nfor this, great God, that I have deserted thy ways? Is it for such\nfugitive pleasure, whose bitterness I have known before even I have\ntasted it? O happiness of solitude! ineffable family joys! where have\nyou fled?\n\n\"Those who have just applauded me little know the inexpressible\nsadness that overcame me. For a moment despair drew tears to my\neyes. They thought it the triumph of my art--but I wept for thee,\nmy father; for thee, my childhood--and the peace of the old, happy\nhours.\"\n\nAndr\u00e9 at this moment appeared.\n\n\nXXV.\n\nHe watched her in silence--he on the threshold, and she half turning\ntoward him proudly in her surprise.\n\nAndr\u00e9 was the first to break the silence.\n\n\"Paganina,\" said he, \"I come from the home that you have left. I\nfound the house deserted, and I went to seek you at the tomb of your\nfather.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" she replied with bitterness, \"and you find me here in the garb\nof a comedian. What do you wish with me?\"\n\n\"I wish to snatch you from this cursed place; to fly with you so far\nthat you may forget this fatal evening, and again become obedient\nto the voice of your father. Come, I will be your protector, your\nguardian, your slave--until the day,\" he added in a lower voice,\n\"when I dare breathe to you my secret, and tell you that I love you.\"\n\n\"Andr\u00e9, listen to me. I will speak to you sincerely. I wish to love\nyou. I swear to you I wish it. To quit this country, fly with you, go\ninto Germany and inhabit the house of my father, and there raise a\nfamily, would be my happiness; but it can never be.\"\n\n\"The love I bear you, Paganina, has taken deep root. Near you alone\nam I happy; but if it must be so, speak! If you have given your heart\nto a man worthy of you, tell me, and destroy in me all hope for ever.\nFor you I can bear any thing. But if it is not so, do not answer me\nyet. Wait; my humility may disarm you, and some day my patience may\nend in moving your heart.\"\n\n\"No! my heart is but ashes; no affection blooms nor will bloom within\nit. It is too late.\"\n\n\"Do not speak so, I beg of you. You do not know what the future has\nin store for you, nor see the Providence that watches over you. It\nhas sent me to you, and with me the remembrance of happy years and\nthe presence of your father.\"\n\n\"The angel itself is not yet arrested in its fall. Go! let me hang\nsuspended between the heaven that is shut against me, and the abyss\nwhose depths I seek.\"\n\nShe burst into tears. Andr\u00e9, after a silence, approached her.\n\n\"Paganina,\" said he, \"do not weep. Come; see! the dawn already\nwhitens the fields. Let the God of the morning comfort you. The wind\nrises forerunner of a new day. Bathe your forehead in its breath,\nand respire with its penetrating odors the forgetfulness of your\nsufferings. To-day, perhaps, will bring us back peace and happiness.\"\n\n\"No, to-day will be fatal. The beauty of the morning moves me no\nlonger; for me the evening fires, the flames of the foot-lights, the\n_\u00e9clat_ of triumph. I will go from _f\u00eate_ to _f\u00eate_, from ovation\nto ovation. I want the whirlpool of the world to seize and carry me\nuntil I lose my health--and forget every thing. Immediately I set out\nfor the Ch\u00e2teau Sarrasin.\"\n\n\"Ah! this, then,\" cried Andr\u00e9 with a sudden explosion of passion,\n\"this, then, is the secret of your resistance and the avowal of your\nshame. The public cry that brought me here had already warned me. I\nrefused to listen to it. Well, go; but fear every thing. You have\nroused in me a monster that I knew not of.\"\n\nAnd raising his hands to heaven, the unhappy one fled.\n\n\nXXVI.\n\nPaganina was calumniated by her cousin; she was pure, though it is\ntrue she slid on a fatal declivity. Already appearances were against\nher reputation. Andr\u00e9 was deceived; but he was not the only one;\nand from thence the reports to which he had made allusion, and the\npretext of which will be explained.\n\nThe Count Ludovic, proprietor of the Ch\u00e2teau Sarrasin and actual\nhead of the house of the Ligonieri, inscribed in the golden book of\nEuropean aristocracy, was a man of proud appearances, endowed with\nmasculine beauty quite in accordance with his character; for he was\nsuperior to his race, and possessed many noble qualities.\n\nHis life was not without stain; but even his faults bore that\nchivalrous character that renders them honorable in the eyes of the\nworld. We well know that the code of the world is not that of the\nsaints.\n\nAnd the Count Ludovic, who willingly mingled with the people of the\ntheatre, had known Paganina while she was preparing for her _d\u00e9but_.\nAt the first glance he had rightly judged the soul of the young\nartist, and saw her superior to her companions.\n\nHis heart was touched. Penetrated with sincere sentiments, he\npreserved in her presence an attitude of reserve and respect, and\nhis influence was secretly employed to isolate and protect her.\nHis manner toward her was observed; for it was not his usual way\nof adding to the conquests for which he was famous. It might have\nbeen believed a mutual admiration; but it is not well to credit the\njudgments of one's neighbors.\n\nThe Count Ludovic wished to celebrate the _d\u00e9but_ of Paganina by one\nof those _f\u00eates_ that an ostentatious tradition had preserved in his\nfamily. He made important preparations at the Ch\u00e2teau Sarrasin and\nsent out his invitations.\n\nThe delicate point was to gain for his project her who was the soul\nof it; so he proposed it to her at the moment when she received\nher first applause, trusting, no doubt, to her excitement and wish\nfor future conquests. He knew his auditory would be of the first\ndistinction; he knew his motive--but no matter.\n\nThe young girl, warned as if by instinct, feeling herself at the\nfatal point of her destiny, made him no reply. The next day, under\nthe influence of her bad angel, she consented.\n\n\nXXVII.\n\nThey set out alone in an open chariot. The Count Ludovic had proposed\nfor himself a gallant _t\u00eate-\u00e0-t\u00eate_, without, however, the desired\nsuccess; for all day long Paganina spoke not a word. Her wandering\nlooks were on the horizon, perhaps there to discover the mysterious\nand avenging power with which she believed herself menaced.\n\nToward evening they arrived at Ar\u00e8se. The young cantatrice was\nrecognized and applauded; but she appeared totally unconscious of\nsight or sound, and maintained her obstinate silence. The count had\nlong since renounced all effort at conversation. He rather liked the\noddity of the adventure, and dreamed of the legend where the paladin\ncarried away his bride and wondered she was pale--so pale that she\nwas dead.\n\nMeanwhile, the carriage labored on the declivity of the road to\nGermany. The heat was excessive, not a breath stirred the air; but a\ndull and heavy murmuring announced that the midday wind was pent up\nin the higher mountain regions. The setting sun was red as blood. At\na turn of the road, Paganina shuddered, for she saw Andr\u00e9 on a rock\nabove them; she could never explain by what energy of passion he had\nreached this point.\n\nWhen the carriage neared him he seized the branch of a tree, and,\nthrowing it before the horses' feet, cried out, \"Paganina, stop! or,\nby the soul of thy father, be cursed for ever!\" The Count Ludovic had\nsome difficulty in managing his frightened horses; he did not observe\nthat his companion was as pale as the bride of the paladin.\n\nA little further on, in returning, he saw the same man in the same\nplace, illuminated by the burning sky, and pointing with the laugh of\na madman to the black mass of the Ch\u00e2teau Sarrasin.\n\nThe adventure was becoming more and more singular. The count\nwondered what part this man took in this unheard-of drama.\n\nHe was too much the gentleman to betray any surprise; but he profited\nby the incident to renew his efforts at conversation. \"Do you know,\"\nhe said to Paganina, \"that these slight accidents might have had a\ntragical ending? The horses we drive have already caused the death\nof a man, and, like those of the fable, may be said to feed their\nferocity on human blood. The whip has never touched them. If it\nhad not been my pride to place at your disposal the most beautiful\nequipage in the world, I should have hesitated to trust you to them.\"\n\nStill she did not reply. But the moment was approaching when she\nwould speak, and in terrible words reveal her anguish.\n\nThe carriage entered the road that ended at the Ch\u00e2teau Sarrasin.\nAs we said before, this road descends by a steep and dangerous\ndeclivity, and on the very edge of the precipice. The horses walked\nquietly. Seizing the whip, Paganina struck them violently, crying out,\n\n\"Go on, then! Is it not said that you can lead to death?\"\n\n\"To death, indeed!\" cried the count, surprised and alarmed. \"In this\nroad, and at this hour, a miracle only can save us.\"\n\nThe horses, breathing fire, made frightful bounds, leaving starry\ntracks behind them. The stones rolled heavily into the abyss. The few\ninhabitants of these solitudes, stopping on the borders of the road,\nlooked on pale and as in a dream, to see this fantastic chariot drawn\nby such furious horses, while a young girl, standing, and her hair\nflying in the wind, lashed them on to desperation.\n\nIf it needed a miracle to save them, this miracle took place. The\nteam stopped; upset the carriage on the steps of the ch\u00e2teau. One\nof the horses was killed, the carriage broken to pieces. The count\nsprang up safe and sound, his first inquiry for Paganina.\n\n\"I am here,\" she replied; \"the hand of God has led us hither.\"\n\nWith her intention, such words were blasphemy; but she spoke in\ndelirium.\n\n\nXXVIII.\n\nPaganina, leaning on the arm of the count, promenades with him the\nhighest terrace. The guests, in groups at a distance, regard them\nwith hungry eyes.\n\nA hot and violent wind agitates the half-stripped trees. The clouds\ntraverse the sky hurriedly and quickly, and their moving shadows rest\non the mountains. The moon, disengaging itself here and there, throws\nits pure light on the white form of the young girl. She seems to grow\nin the estimation of the admirers who seek her.\n\nThe Count Ludovic is strangely moved. His sincere sentiments are\nrekindled by the newness of the situation, and the strangeness of\nthe adventure. He thanks his companion for having, at one stroke,\nplayed with their two lives. Exalted and nervous, enervated with the\nperfume of the life that she had so nearly lost only a few moments\nbefore, Paganina replies to him. The observers of the scene listen\nattentively. Detached from the murmur of the distant storm, their\nwords are heard for a moment, but the tempest again arises and\ncarries them away in its roar. Yes, ardent and mysterious breath,\nbear away these words of irony, of revolt, and of despair--bear afar\nthe bitter laugh that accompanies them.\n\nFor a long time, O powerful voice! have men listened to your painful\nharmony. Long have you roamed the earth, picking up the notes of\ngrief, the cries of the new-born, the sobs of mothers, the sighs of\nthe dying, and the groaning of the crowds who groan and groan on. But\nnever, never have you borne away any thing more sad or desolate than\nthe laugh of this unhappy child.\n\n\nXXIX.\n\nThe night advances. Already the moon has commenced to decline. Some\nof the invited ones have retired; others, grouped here and there,\nseated or half-extended, are sleeping in the hot breath of the storm.\nThere are two powers that watch--Paganina and the tempest, and the\nthunder rolls and shakes the mountains.\n\nSilent and isolated, Paganina looks at the shadow of the Ch\u00e2teau\nSarrasin. She sees it advance and recede. She thinks of the legend of\nthis cursed place--so fatal to the honor of women. And yet fate has\nled her there--the gulf is yawning for her. She advances; she will\nenter never there.\n\nA cry is heard; the sleepers, wakened suddenly, run to and fro, pale\nand frightened. They find Paganina fainting and covered with blood.\nA deep wound is found in her throat. The count sustains her, and in\na voice thundering above the tempest orders his people to seize the\nassassin.\n\nThe assassin was Andr\u00e9!\n\nWhen they wished to carry the wounded one into the Ch\u00e2teau Sarrasin,\nshe could not speak, but betrayed, in signs of such mortal terror,\nher repugnance to enter, that they were obliged to relinquish the\nidea.\n\nShe said since, at the moment that the doors opened to make way\nfor her, she again saw the scene which, several years before, had\nso forcibly struck her. Nothing was wanting; the brightness of the\nlight, or the luxury of the dress. All the actors were there,\nall--but they were hideous skeletons; they still made gestures of\napplause, while above them, the woman with the green diamond showed a\nlivid face, the eyes extinct, and an open mouth, from which no sound\nproceeded.\n\nPaganina was laid on a litter and carried to Ar\u00e8se.\n\nAndr\u00e9 followed her, chained, and guarded from sight. They arrived\nnext morning.\n\nIt is said the infuriated crowd rushed upon the assassin and his\nguard, and obliged them to fly for their lives. Paganina had him\nbrought to her, took him by the hand, and so passed through the moved\nand disarmed assemblage.\n\n\nXXX.\n\nFor a long time her life was despaired of. A burning fever consumed\nher. Her sufferings were such as belonged to her thirsty nature. She\nexperienced the most terrible of earthly tortures; and prayed in her\ndelirium for a stream of water to flow into her parched lips.\n\nHer moral sufferings were still greater. Every evening she became the\nprey to a terrible hallucination, that she regarded as the punishment\nof her wish for popularity; she saw herself raised far above an\nimmense crowd, and this crowd becoming by turns insulting and\nmocking. Its waves of fury flowed and reflowed at the feet of their\nvictim, and covered her with their froth. Paganina, in despair, would\nhave thrown herself into this shoreless tide; but in vain; she felt\nherself enchained to her height, and obliged to wait for the rays of\nmorning to dissipate her phantoms.\n\nThese two features suffice to characterize her malady, which was\nmoral as well as physical. Its intensity lasted during the winter\nmonths. In the spring only she appeared to be restored to health, but\nthe blow had been a severe one, and the rest of her life was merely a\nprolonged convalescence.\n\n\nXXXI.\n\nBut suffering in silence accomplished its work. Her long confinement\nhad curbed if not wholly subdued her ardent nature, and those who\nthought to find the revived Paganina on the declivity where they had\nleft her, were greatly mistaken.\n\nTheir surprise was greater, too, as no indication had prepared them\nfor the change. The work in her soul was well and firmly done, and\nshe remained calmly impenetrable to her friends, until there escaped\nfrom her, in spite of herself, a jet of revealing flame.\n\nThe Count Ludovic had never ceased his attentions during her illness.\nHis passion, far from weakening, had grown stronger during his\nseparation. When he could be admitted to her presence, he expressed\nhis sentiments, perhaps, too tenderly; he who knew her, knew of what\nsudden movements and prompt returns she was capable, strove with\nall his energy, but remained confounded. Not without reason, for so\nPaganina answered him:\n\n\"Since the day when I first heard all you have just repeated to me,\nI have stood on the borders of eternity. New lights have been shed\non all things since then; do not be surprised that my language is no\nlonger the same.\n\n\"It must be true that you place yourself in very high and me in very\nlow esteem! Do you consider my honor a worthy prey for your vanity?\nDo you not think that a few days of pleasure might be too well paid\nfor by my past and my future? What, then, do you wish? You ask that\nI abjure the past, that I sacrifice to you my whole future, and even\nmore! My immortal soul is what you would wish to debase. And in a few\ndays you would give me, in exchange, your contempt, to run, freer and\nmore honored than ever, into new pleasures. This is what you wish,\nand yet you say you love me.\n\n\"Good God! what might I have been to-day, if heaven had not arrested\nme--and what am I now?\n\n\"Ah! forgive me; I have lost the right to be severe. Words of blame\nor bitterness should not come from my lips. No, it is myself I\ndespise; and this contempt, to which I am consecrated, plunges into\nmy heart a poisoned iron. It oppresses, it stifles me, and leaves for\nmy punishment the life I hate.\n\n\"Count Ludovic, you are the son of chevaliers. I know at the bottom\nof your heart is the nobility of your ancestors. Adieu; we have met\nfor the last time.\"\n\nAnd the count, retiring on this command, lost his reputation for a\nman of gallantry.\n\n\nXXXII.\n\nIt was Easter-Sunday, the feast of eternal life. The sun shed through\nthe clouds its humid rays, the trees--clothed in new verdure and\nbrightly agitated--sent forth their sweet and subtle perfumes.\n\nPaganina, still weak, was placed by the open window; she turned\ntoward the church her eyes, grown larger in suffering, and listened\nto the notes of the feast, weakened by the distance. When Faust heard\nsuch songs the poisoned cup fell from his hands. In his desperation\nhe believed no longer in God. The earth had reclaimed him. Heaven was\ngoing to reconquer Paganina.\n\nThe angels, approaching her, brought back a world of innocent and\ngentle memories; she wept.\n\nAt this moment the bells, pealing their joyous notes, announced the\nend of the ceremony.\n\nThe virgins, clothed in white, quitted the church in silent swarms.\nPaganina saw them pass before her in a vision, for they appeared\nin groups of such supernatural beauty that she was thrown into an\necstasy.\n\nShe saw them leave the second banquet--some retiring sweetly within\nthemselves, as slender stalks bending under the weight of the\nheavenly dew; others, pale, with foreheads high and open, and eyes\npure and ardent. They crossed their arms on their breasts, the better\nto guard their treasure. All wore the trace of that fire which for\neighteen hundred years has marked the victory of the virgins and the\nmartyrs. The ray of divine beauty which fell on these figures was\nreflected back on Paganina; her soul was transfixed and vanquished\nfor ever.\n\nShe rose, and standing, pale as her long white vestments, she prayed:\n\n\"Thou seekest me again, my God; behold! I come. To thee I return,\nand with the frightful experience of the darkness of oblivion, and\npenetrated with the horror of those places where thou art not.\n\n\"Thou art witness that, before I abandoned the heights where thou\nresidest, I sustained an infernal struggle. That day my vision was\nlowered, the dragon of the abyss mounted toward me, to drag me to its\ndepths.... Thy angels have fallen, my God! But while they are lost\nfor ever, why, why am I reclaimed?\n\n\"I come trembling in thy light. Do not reject thy victim; acknowledge\nthe blood-stain with which thou hast marked me to save me, I hope;\nlet me again contemplate thy eternal beauty. Thy beauty, my Lord, I\nmust see. I thirst for it; one of its bright rays has shone before\nme, and the world has nothing more to offer.\n\n\"My last hour will be the hour of my deliverance; I wait for it.\nAccept the offering of a broken life, whose failing forces will be\nemployed to repair the evil I have done. And thou, my father, I bless\nthee, because I may yet sleep again in thy bosom.\"\n\n\nXXXIII.\n\nThe day fixed for the trial of Andr\u00e9 having arrived, a great mass of\npeople pressed around the court of justice. In the memory of man, no\ncelebrated cause had ever attracted so great a multitude. At every\nhour, the waves of the crowd mounted higher and higher against the\nwalls of the palace. When it was known that Paganina would appear\nto give her testimony, such tumult and agitation arose that the\njudges were obliged to suspend proceedings. Calm being somewhat\nre\u00ebstablished, the president called Paganina to testify against the\nassassin. Then, without raising her eyes, in a low and trembling\nvoice, which ran shuddering through the crowd, she answered, \"He\nsaved my honor!\" Twice she said it, and when the president, renewing\nhis interrogation, menaced her with the penalties of the law if she\nrefused her testimony, she fixed upon him a steady gaze and repeated\nin a strong voice,\n\n\"He saved my honor!\"\n\nAt these words there was a shout of enthusiasm. Men threw their caps\ninto the air, and cried, \"Hurrah!\" Women wept and were agitated; and\nAndr\u00e9, sobbing aloud, held out to her his trembling hands.\n\nIt is easily known he was acquitted.\n\n\nXXXIV.\n\nSoon after, a strange, unheard-of rumor was afloat. They said the\nCount Ludovic asked Paganina in marriage. The Count Ludovic! This\nflower of nobility, this last of an antique chivalry, condescend to\npropose to an actress, and tarnish his escutcheon! It was not to be\nbelieved. But the evidence was excellent. He said so himself, and\neven rudely, to the unlucky flatterers who thought to make capital\nout of the enormity of the story.\n\nWe can conceive the emotion was great, and spread rapidly.\n\nThings stood so, when two other pieces of news, following closely on\nthis, caused it to be forgotten.\n\nAnd these were, first, that the demand of the Count Ludovic was\nnot acceded to; the second, that his preferred rival was Andr\u00e9, an\nobscure musician with a weak brain; and, even worse than that, that\nall his merit rested in his attempt at the assassination of the\nobject of his passion.\n\nI give the facts in their entire simplicity. Truth is worth more\nthan its resemblance; so any extenuation, any covering of phrases,\nwould be useless, and neither make them accepted nor understood\nby practical people--those who judge every thing from their own\nstand-point, and name it so well \"common sense.\"\n\nPaganina wished to repair the evil of which she was the cause. She\nfound \"at her hand\" the sacrifice she desired.\n\nFrom the terrible night passed at the Ch\u00e2teau Sarrasin, Andr\u00e9 had\nnever resumed the complete use of his reason. To have the right\nto devote herself to him, his cousin married him; surrounded him\nwith every care, and watched over the flame of his vacillating\nintelligence with a love more maternal than conjugal. In our\nexistence, many things are strange. She never seemed the wife of\nAndr\u00e9. She lived with him as a sister. And can you imagine what\nwas her life, _t\u00eate-\u00e0-t\u00eate_ with an idiot? Calculate the energy to\nsustain, and the patience to calm him.\n\nWhen the spectres of madness approached the poor invalid, warned by\nhis cries of terror, Paganina ran to him. Her presence, and the sound\nof her voice, dispelled the phantoms. Delivered from his terrors, he\nthrew himself at her feet, covered her hands with kisses and tears,\nand invoked her as his angel, swearing to her inviolable obedience.\n\nSince King David's time, we all know the power of music to dispel the\nspirits of darkness. Paganina made use of it, and found consolation\nin the mingled studies that brought her cousin such relief. So even\nthey had hours of happiness.\n\nThe genius, too, of Paganina was not entirely lost to her\ncontemporaries. She was heard once in Milan, in a religious ceremony;\nand once again in Germany, where she had gone, nearly two years after\nher marriage, to make, with Andr\u00e9, a pilgrimage to the house of her\nfather. For her it was the song of the swan, for her exhausted and\nuncertain life went out soon afterward.\n\nThis song of songs will reveal her last thoughts and conclude her\nhistory.\n\n\nXXXV.\n\nIn one of those festivals which are the noble pleasure and the glory\nof Germany, an oratorio was to be given for the first time, the\nexpectation of which excited a passionate impatience.\n\nThis composition, called _The Angels' Fall_, is due to a musician\nwhose name will descend to the latest posterity, carried onward by\nthe tempests his genius has evoked.\n\nThe part of the archangel Lucifer was awarded to Paganina. These\nphlegmatic Germans, when they give themselves to enthusiasm, lose all\nbounds; and Paganina might have been satisfied could she have known\nher success; but her soul was elsewhere.\n\nThis oratorio was divided into three parts. The first expressed\nheaven. If there is any thing in this world that can make man see\nwhat his eyes cannot, and understand what his ears have never heard,\nit is music; for the true musician knows that such harmony, quitting\nearth, mounts to the vaults of paradise, where it wakens the echoes\nthat have nothing of earth, and falls again on us--the messenger of\nhope and consolation.\n\nPaganina's _r\u00f4le_, in this part, was less important than in that\nwhich followed. Her voice was rarely detached from the whole; but now\nand then two or three dazzling notes rose through the harmony, and\nthe transported auditors believed they saw the fluttering wings of\nthe archangel already hovering on the eternal heights.\n\nI will say nothing of the second part, although several found it\nsuperior to the two others, on account of the sombre energy, the\nterrible power with which is rendered the insurrection of the rebel\nangels.\n\nPaganina should have been perfectly at her ease, to display here the\nrichness of her voice--this voice which, in other parts, rang as a\ntrumpet of gold and brass. But these accents of revolt choked her,\nand here she was unequal. She would soon surpass herself in the last\nair.\n\nThe composer, by one of those happy mistakes from which the best\nworks grow, forgot the tradition. His angels were not thunder-struck\nin their pride, and shrieking in blasphemy; but vanquished. They\nwere condemned, and wept. They weep for the heaven they have lost.\nAdmiration believed there was nothing more to expect; but here\nthe master recalls his power, reanimates his genius, and finds an\ninspiration supreme to chant the farewell to infinite happiness of\nthe guilty phalanx.\n\nThe sobs of the orchestra and chorus are heard alternately, and the\nvoice of the archangel rises once again. At this moment, Paganina\nsang her last air on earth with an intensity of love and grief that\ncannot be described.\n\nNo, Paganina! one who can so weep has not lost heaven.\n\nThose who saw her then will never forget her. In this high-vaulted\nroom, lofty as a church, she stood above the others, in a long black\nrobe covered with stars. Her beauty was that of an archangel.\n\nAs she finished, a ray of sunlight, streaming through the red glass,\nand sparkling as the flaming sword that forbade the entrance into\nEden, rested a moment at her feet and expired.\n\n\n\n\nTHE COUNCIL OF TRENT.\n\n\nNow that the attention of the Catholic world is directed to the\ncoming Ecumenical Council, and various questions are asked about\nthe nature and the probable effects of such a meeting, one's eyes\nnaturally turn to the latest general synod of the church. The history\nof the Council of Trent is, indeed, of great interest. \"Than it,\"\nsays its accomplished historian, Pallavicini, \"no preceding council\nwas more distinguished for length of duration, for the definition of\nimportant dogmas, for the efficient reformation of manners and laws;\nnone hindered by greater obstacles, none more patient and accurate\nin discussion, none more highly praised by friends, or more bitterly\ncensured by opponents.\"[2] A review of the history of this great\ncouncil, its work, and its results, will not be out of place, at this\ntime and in these pages.\n\nThe so-called Reformation was different from any other heresy that\nhad attacked the church of God in this, that it impugned the vital\nprinciple of church authority. Other heresiarchs had denied one or\nanother dogma; Luther and his followers denied the existence of any\nauthority to define dogmas. Other schismatists had rebelled against\nthe governing power, but, even in their rebellion, had admitted\nits existence, though they might wish to curtail its powers, or to\ndispute its legitimate possession; the reformers declared that there\nwas no external authority appointed of God to govern the spiritual\naffairs of men. \"The combat,\" says D'Aubign\u00e9, \"was to be to the\ndeath. It was not the abuses of the pontiff's authority Luther had\nattacked. At his bidding, the pope was required to descend meekly\nfrom his throne, and become again a simple pastor or bishop on the\nbanks of the Tiber.\" And his pastoral or episcopal charge was not\nto be recognized as delegated from God, but given to him by the\nconsent of the faithful. Real church authority was utterly denied;\nit was not its exercise, but its very existence that was brought\ninto question. As Dr. Ewer puts it, \"This was the meanest mode of\nattack\" to Christianity. \"Protestantism made an ally of the Bible,\nand with it flew at the church to destroy her. Satan ... picked his\nmen.... Protestantism, making an ally of the Bible, succeeded not\nin reforming the church, but in attacking and destroying her in\nmany lands.\"[3] Against such a rebellion the church had to put on\nher strongest armor. No mere outworks were attacked; the strongest\ncitadel, the key to the whole position, was the object of deadly\nassault. The lines of attack were twofold. It was said that the\nchurch, under the guidance of the pontiffs of Rome, had fallen away\nfrom the true faith, and proposed superstitious errors and mere human\ninventions to the belief of her children. It was furthermore charged\nthat she had become horribly deformed in morals, a very sink of\niniquity, instead of that spotless and stainless bride whom Christ\nhad laved in his blood. The intricate and difficult questions of\noriginal sin, its nature, its effects, its remedy--the justification\nof the sinner--were again opened and discussed with force and\nacrimony, if not with discretion and candor. The whole sacramental\nsystem was practically denied; the altar and the priesthood removed;\nand the church, as it is seen by the eyes of men, reduced to a mere\nvoluntary association of believers, for which indefectibility,\ninfallibility, or authority could not by any means be claimed. The\nBible was appealed to in support of these novel statements, and to\neach one's private judgment was generously granted the privilege of\nsecurely interpreting the sacred page. The new doctrine flattered\nthe vanity of the human intellect; and there were found many not\nunwilling to sit as judges where they had before stood as hearers;\nto leave the humble bench of the scholar for the magisterial chair\nof the religious teacher. The constant attacks on real or pretended\nabuses added greatly to the temporary success of the reformers.\nAgainst these (to borrow an expression from Hallam) \"Luther bellowed\nin bad Latin.\" That there was much to be reformed, the numerous\ndecrees of the Council of Trent leave us no room to doubt. It is\nalso clear that it would have been well for the church had prompter\nremedies taken away in advance the specious pretext of the turbulent\nAugustinian. But it pleased her Divine Head to permit that the wrong\nshould continue to thrive, and, when the time of trial came, many\ngave as an excuse for their falling off, the scandals which they\nalleged could no longer be endured. A glance at the history of the\ntimes will, however, show how flimsy was such a pretext. The scandals\nof the lives of the seceders and their immediate followers contrast\ndarkly with the honest reforms of Trent, and the dissoluteness which\nwas the immediate result of the revolution, taken in connection\nwith the acknowledged improvement inside of the church, would lead\none to suppose that the authors and abettors of the real abuses had\nabandoned the ancient fold, and betaken themselves to freer and more\ncongenial pastures. Of his own party, Luther, as quoted by D\u00f6llinger,\nsaid:\n\n     \"Our evangelicals are now sevenfold more wicked than they were\n     before. In proportion as we hear the Gospel, we steal, lie, cheat,\n     gorge, swill, and commit every crime. If one devil has been driven\n     out of us, seven worse ones have taken their place, to judge from\n     the conduct of princes, lords, nobles, burgesses, and peasants,\n     their utterly shameless acts, and their disregard of God and of\n     his menaces.\"\n\nOf the old church, Henry Hallam says:\n\n     \"The decrees of the Council of Trent were received by the\n     spiritual princes of the empire in 1566, 'and from this moment,'\n     says the excellent historian who has thrown most light on this\n     subject, 'began a new life for the Catholic Church in Germany.'...\n     Every method was adopted to revive an attachment to the ancient\n     religion, insuperable by the love of novelty or the force of\n     argument. A stricter discipline and subordination was introduced\n     among the clergy; they were early trained in seminaries, apart\n     from the sentiments and habits, the vices and the virtues of the\n     world. The monastic orders resumed their rigid observances.\"[4]\n\nLuther, anticipating his condemnation by Pope Leo X., appealed in\n1518 to a general council, a course, we may remark, frequently\ntaken by heretics, if for nothing else, at least to gain time to\nenroll followers, and thus increase in importance, before the\nfinal condemnation. The diet of Nuremberg, in 1522, in answer to\nthe conciliatory and truly apostolic communication of Pope Adrian\nVI., through his nuncio, Cheregat, requested his holiness to call a\ncouncil in some city of Germany, with the double object of a thorough\nreformation, and of devising means of resistance to the menacing\nadvances of the Turkish power. Adrian died before he could take any\naction on the subject, and the new pontiff, Clement VII., did not\nreceive the proposal with favor. According to Pallavicini, he feared\nthat under the actual circumstances the council would only aggravate\nthe evil, especially if the fathers should revive the pretensions\nof their predecessors of Constance and Basle, an apprehension very\nprevalent at that time at Rome, and, it must be admitted, not\naltogether groundless; besides, the war then raging between Charles\nV. and Francis I., from whose dominions most of the bishops were to\ncome, rendered the possibility of a successful convocation almost\nhopeless; and, lastly, the demand was for a council which would\nsatisfy Luther and his party; namely, one in which any one that\nmight choose, even laymen, should be allowed to take part, and the\npontiff should lay aside his high prerogatives, and sit as a simple\nbishop. He consequently instructed his legate, Campeggi, that it was\nimpossible to call a council until the conclusion of peace between\nthe two great princes of Europe, offering, at the same time, to carry\nout the measures of reform decreed by the council of Lateran, held\nnot long before by Leo X., and to provide by his own authority proper\nremedies on other points. The unfortunate war in which Clement became\nafterward involved with Charles V. delayed for some time all question\nof holding a council; but, with the return of peace, the negotiations\nwere resumed, and at a consultation held in Bologna, in 1533, between\nthe pontiff and the emperor, the former agreed to convoke the council\nwithin six months from the acceptation of certain very equitable\nconditions by all interested. But the Protestant princes of Germany,\nin a meeting at Smalcald, (1533,) refused to accept the two first\nconditions, \"that the council should be free, and be held after the\nmanner of the ancient general councils; and that those who wished to\ntake part in it should promise beforehand to obey its decrees;\" a\nrefusal which justified, in part at least, the fears of the pontiff.\nHe did not, however, desist, and was engaged in negotiations on the\nsubject until his death, (September 25th, 1534.) His successor, Paul\nIII., had never shared his fears, and, soon after his elevation,\nsent nuncios to the various princes to promote the speedy convocation\nof the council. In point of fact, he did convoke it, appointing\nMantua, which had been agreed on by the emperor and the Catholic\nprinces of Germany, as the place, and the 23d day of May, 1537,\nas the time, of the meeting. It is useless minutely to detail the\nobstacles placed in the way of the great event by the Duke of Mantua\nand others, the selection of Vicenza, the suspension of the council,\nand the bootless legation of Contarini to the diet of Ratisbon. At\nlast, as the pontiff himself says, in his bull of convocation:\n\n     \"While we awaited the hidden time, the time of thy good pleasure,\n     O God! we were compelled to say that when we take counsel\n     concerning things sacred, and pertaining to Christian piety, every\n     time is pleasing to God. Wherefore, seeing, to our great sorrow,\n     that the condition of Christendom was every day becoming worse,\n     Hungary oppressed by the Turks, the Germans themselves in danger,\n     and all the rest of Europe seized with fear and sadness--we\n     determined no longer to wait on the consent of any prince, but\n     to regard solely the will of Almighty God and the good of the\n     Christian commonwealth.\"\n\nTo satisfy the Germans, he selected Trent as the place of meeting,\nthough he himself would have preferred some city of Italy nearer\nRome. But new obstacles arose, and the council, though convoked\nfor the feast of All Saints, (November 1st, 1542,) was not opened\nuntil December 13th, 1545. Even then, it was necessary to commence\nwith a very small attendance of prelates. At the first session\nthere were present, besides the legates of the apostolic see\nand the Cardinal Bishop of Trent, only four archbishops, twenty\nbishops, and five general superiors of religious orders.[5] But it\nwas thought better to make a beginning, even though the number\nof fathers was lamentably small, especially since, according to\nancient ecclesiastical usage, a council, legitimately convoked by\nthe apostolic see, legitimately celebrated under its presidency, and\napproved by its authority, is ecumenical, even though many of the\nbishops called to it were either unable or unwilling to take part in\nits deliberations.\n\nBishops in greater number gradually found their way to the assembly,\nand seven sessions were held in succession, the last on March 3d,\n1547, so that the deliberations of this period of the council lasted\nover fourteen months. The work of reformation was commenced, together\nwith the dogmatical definitions, and the same plan was followed\nthroughout. On March 11th, the eighth session was held; but the\nonly business transacted was the passing of a decree transferring\nthe council to Bologna, the reason assigned being an epidemic, the\nexistence of which in Trent was declared to be a matter of notoriety,\nand which had already caused some prelates to leave that city, others\nto protest against a further sojourn. Many fathers obeyed the decree,\nand the congregations were held regularly in Bologna. The Emperor\nCharles V. did not, however, relish this transfer from a city of his\ndominions to one under the temporal jurisdiction of the pope, and\nhe detained at Trent the prelates from his states. The result was\nthat, after two formal sessions, the synod was prorogued, \"at the\npleasure of the Sacred Council,\" on September 14th, 1547, and the\nremainder of the pontificate of Paul III. was spent in fruitless\nnegotiations for its resumption. Paul died on November 10th, 1549, of\nwhom Pallavicini says: \"By his inordinate affection for his family,\nhe showed himself to be only a man; for the rest, he has deserved in\nthe church the name of hero.\"[6] His successor was Julius III., who\nas Cardinal del Monte had presided over the council in the quality\nof first legate apostolic. His first care was to reopen the sacred\nsynod, and he immediately sent nuncios to the emperor and the French\nking, to bring about this desired result. The stand taken by Charles\nfor Trent made it advisable again to select that city, and Julius\nwas enabled, on December 1st, 1550, to publish a bull appointing\nthe first day of May of the ensuing year for the reassembling of\nthe council. The first session (eleventh of the whole series) was\naccordingly held on that day, but, to give time to the Germans to\narrive, no business was transacted, September 1st being appointed for\nthe next session. Meanwhile, the preparatory work went on, and on\nthe appointed day, the archbishop, electors of Mayence and Treves,\nand many other prelates being present, another session was held, in\nwhich it was determined to wait until October 11th, for other bishops\nof Germany and other nations, who were known to be on their way. The\nthirteenth session was celebrated on this day, and it was followed\nby three others, in all of which important canons and decrees were\npassed. But civil war had broken out in Germany, and Maurice of\nSaxony, at the head of a Protestant army, in league with the French\nking, had occupied Augsburg and menaced Innspruch, where Charles\nheld his court, and whence he soon afterward retired. It was not to\nbe wondered at that the fathers in the neighboring city of Trent\nshould wish to shun a danger before which even the great emperor was\nobliged to retreat, and, in the sixteenth session, held on April\n28th, 1552, a decree was passed suspending the celebration of the\ncouncil for two years, providing, however, that in case of a speedy\nreturn of peace it might be resumed sooner. Pressed by his enemies,\nCharles agreed to the pacification of Passau, which promulgated a\nkind of toleration of both the old and the new religion. It also\nprovided for a diet of the empire, in which the question was to be\ndiscussed whether an ecumenical council, or a national synod, or\na conference, or an imperial diet, afforded the surest method of\nsettling the existing religious differences. This, of course, put\noff the council again. Meanwhile, Julius III. died on March 23d,\n1555. His former colleague in the apostolic legation to the council\nunder Paul III., Cardinal Cervini, succeeded him in the pontificate;\nbut death summoned him on the twenty-second day of his reign. The\naustere, zealous, but by no means prudent Cardinal Caraffa was the\nnext choice of the Sacred College. The career of Paul IV. affords a\nsingular example of the fallacy of human expectations. Before his\nelection, he was a subject of the emperor, (he was a Neapolitan\nby birth;) in the pontificate, he waged war against Charles, son\nand successor; himself pure and above all suspicion, his reign\nwas disgraced by the worst form of nepotism, so that, under his\nsuccessor, his nephews, one of them a cardinal, died the death of\nmalefactors; a great and really zealous promoter of reform, he took\nno steps to reassemble the council. Nor indeed could he. He was for\nthe greater part of his reign at war with Philip II., successor of\nCharles V., in the latter's hereditary dominions, and he would never\nrecognize Ferdinand as Charles's legitimate successor in the empire,\non account of the part taken by that prince in the pacification of\nPassau. Yet so opposed was he to heresy, that he had recalled from\nEngland the gentle and prudent Cardinal Pole, and was about to\nsummon him to Rome to purge himself of the suspicion of heresy, and\nhe actually imprisoned, on a similar suspicion, Cardinal Morone, who\nwas destined to be the moving spirit, as he was the actual president\nof the last sessions of the great council. Paul died on August 18th,\n1559. He was an excellent ecclesiastic, conspicuous for learning and\nvirtue, and in less troubled times would have been a successful, as\nhe was a holy pontiff. But, to quote Pallavicini, \"he was braver\nin punishing crime, no matter how high the criminal, than prudent\nin preventing it. He took the amplitude of his sacred power as the\nproper measure of its exercise.\"[7] He waged war, however, on abuses,\nand was a severe ecclesiastical disciplinarian. His whole pontificate\nis a proof of the uselessness, not to say positive evil, in persons\nin high position, of determination, zeal, vigor, unless tempered by\ndiscretion, prudence, and meekness. His successor, Cardinal Medici,\nwho took the name of Pius IV., a learned and virtuous prelate,\nthough not so remarkable for natural parts or austere asceticism,\naccomplished much more for the glory of God and the good of Holy\nChurch.\n\nThe new pontiff immediately turned his attention to the council. He\nhad three princes of first class to deal with--the Emperor Ferdinand,\nand the kings of France and Spain. This last and the emperor desired\nthe council to be reassembled at Trent; but the French sovereign\nobjected to this place on account of its want of accommodations and\nunhealthy air, but especially because the Protestants had already\ncommenced to hate the name, and proposed Constance. But at last\nthe pontiff obtained the unanimous consent of all the Catholic\nprinces of Europe for Trent, and on November 29th, 1560, issued a\nbull appointing Easter Sunday of the coming year for the reopening\nof the council. He sent his legates to Trent, and many prelates\nsoon arrived; the congregations and other preparatory meetings were\nheld; but the troubles in France, on the succession of Charles IX.,\nprevented the arrival of the French bishops. At last, on January\n18th, 1562, was held, with unusual solemnity, the first session\nunder Pius IV., (seventeenth of the whole series,) at which there\nwere present, besides the apostolic legates and the Cardinal of\nTrent, one hundred and six bishops, four mitred abbots, and four\ngenerals of religious orders. From this happy day, the council went\non with its appointed work without any interference. There were\ngrave discussions, sometimes warm and prolonged, but always ending\nin peace and harmony. The French bishops arrived, before the end of\nthe year, under the leadership of the illustrious Charles of Guise,\nCardinal of Lorraine. At last, to use the words of Jerome Ragazzoni,\nBishop of Nazianzen, and coadjutor of Famagosta, orator at the last\nsession, \"the day arrived which Paul III. and Julius III. had yearned\nfor, but which it was not given to them to see--a gladness reserved\nto Pius IV.--on which the Council of Trent, commenced long before,\noften interrupted, and sometimes transferred, was at last, thanks to\nGod's great mercy, happily ended, to the great and unspeakable joy\nof all classes of men.\" The twenty-fifth and last session was held\non December 3d and 4th, 1563. There were present at it four cardinal\nlegates of the apostolic see, two other cardinals, those of Trent and\nLorraine, three patriarchs, twenty-five archbishops, one hundred and\nsixty-eight bishops, thirty-nine procurators of prelates legitimately\nabsent, seven abbots, and seven generals of religious orders--making,\nin all, two hundred and fifty-five prelates, whose signatures are\nattached to the decrees. Amid the festive acclamations, composed\nand intoned by the Cardinal of Lorraine, tears of joy testified the\ngladness of all hearts; opponents embraced one another, no longer\nrivals, but brethren; the _Te Deum_ was sung with feelings of the\ndeepest gratitude; and as the first legate, Morone, having given his\nsolemn blessing to the fathers, bade them, in the name of the supreme\npontiff, go in peace, the last solemn act of the great council was\nperformed. The whole time, from the first session under Paul III. to\nthe last under Pius IV., was within a few days of eighteen years;\nbut that actually occupied by the council was four years and about\neight months. The canons and decrees, both in faith and discipline,\nwere solemnly approved, at the request of the fathers, by \"the most\nblessed Roman pontiff,\" Pius IV., as the council styled him, on\nJanuary 25th, 1564; and, by a subsequent bull, they were declared\nobligatory on the whole church, from the first day of May of the same\nyear.\n\nThis historical sketch will serve to give some idea of the\ndifficulties the work of the council had to encounter. Whatever may\nbe said in the abstract of the union of church and state, their\nrelations in the sixteenth century were very unsatisfactory. Popes\nPaul III., Julius, and Pius wanted a general council; but it was\nvery difficult so to arrange matters as to obtain the necessary\nconsent of all the Catholic powers, and this difficulty always\nafforded an excuse for delay when delay was really desired. Then\nthere were courtiers at Rome \"to whose ears the word reform sounded\nharsh,\" as Pallavicini says; and who were suddenly animated by the\nmost ardent zeal in defence of the prerogatives of the holy see,\nwhich, they alleged, would be unduly curtailed by the council. But\nthe firmness of the pontiffs, under the grace of God, which never\nabandons his church, brought these machinations to nought. They\nrefused to interfere to save their dependents from a thorough reform;\nand Pius IV., especially, declared that he left full liberty to\nthe fathers in the matter. And in a discourse in the Consistory of\nCardinals, on December 30th, 1563, he expressly thanked the fathers\n\"for the religious zeal and resolute freedom with which they had\nspared no labor, no care, to remove all heresies and corruptions.\"\n\"We are also,\" he continued, \"not a little indebted to them for\nhaving been so moderate and indulgent in the work of reformation, in\nregard to our own affairs, (that is, the papal court,) that, had we\npreferred to take this duty on ourselves, and not commit it to their\ndiscretion, we should certainly have been more severe. Wherefore, as\nsalutary measures have been adopted, it is our firm determination\nforthwith to carry the reform into effect by the observance of the\ndecrees of the sacred synod. We shall rather, when necessary, make up\nby our own diligence for the moderation and leniency of the fathers;\nso far are we from wishing to neglect or diminish one iota.\"[8] And\nhe appointed Cardinals Morone and Simonetta, both legates to the\ncouncil, to see that nothing was done by any of the papal officials\nin contravention of the so lately approved decrees. The courtiers\nhad to submit, and the court of Rome since that day has given little\nor no occasion for serious complaint, and certainly no pretext for\na schism under the name of reform. Another difficulty arose from\nthe multitude of counsellors, and the liberty left in discussion.\nNow that the council has passed into history, it is pleasant to see\nthat such ample freedom was allowed; but it must have been sometimes\na sore task for the legates to keep order. They well deserved\nthe encomium of Ragazzoni, \"You have been our excellent leaders\nand directors in action. You have used incredible patience and\ndiligence in guarding against any violation of our liberty, either\nin speaking or in legislating. You have spared no bodily labor, no\nmental exertion, to bring the undertaking to its desired end.\" But\nthe principal difficulty arose from the Protestants themselves. They\nhad asked for the council, but when it was assembled they would have\nnothing to do with it. Three different safe conducts were issued for\nthem--one under Paul III., another under Julius III., and the last\nunder Pius IV.--all of them as ample as could be desired; but to no\npurpose. They did not really want a council, but an ecclesiastical\nmob without a head; in other words, they wanted the main question\nof church authority to be decided in advance in their favor. Their\ncourse was substantially that of all former heretics; first, to\nappeal to the council, to gain time and cause trouble; then, after\ntheir condemnation, to abuse the council as much as they had formerly\nabused the pope. It would be difficult to determine which is to-day\nthe greater bugbear of the average Protestant, the Council of Trent\nor the holy see.\n\nFew, if any, assemblages have received such praise for learning,\nmoderation, and zeal--not only from friends, but from candid\nopponents--as that of Trent. We will give as a sample the judgment\nof Hallam, himself not at all well disposed toward Catholic dogma.\nHis testimony is the more valuable that he acknowledges to have\ntaken his facts from the disingenuous account of the more than half\nProtestant, Fra Paolo Sarpi,[9] and never to have read the able and\nexhaustive history of Pallavicini:\n\n     \"It is usual for Protestant writers to inveigh against the\n     Tridentine fathers. I do not assent to their decisions, which\n     is not to the purpose, nor vindicate the intrigues of the papal\n     party. But I must presume to say that, reading their proceedings\n     in the pages of that very able and not very lenient historian to\n     whom we have generally recourse, an adversary as decided as any\n     that could have come from the reformed churches, I find proofs of\n     much ability, considering the embarrassments with which they had\n     to struggle, and of an honest desire of reformation, among a large\n     body, as to those matters which, in their judgment, ought to be\n     reformed.\"[10]\n\nAgain:\n\n     \"It will appear, by reading the accounts of the sessions of\n     the council, either in Father Paul, or in any more favorable\n     historian, that, even in certain points, such as justification,\n     which had not been clearly laid down before, the Tridentine\n     decrees were mostly conformable with the sense of the majority\n     of those doctors who had obtained the highest reputation; and\n     that upon what are more usually reckoned the distinctive\n     characteristics of the Church of Rome, namely, transubstantiation,\n     purgatory, and invocation of the saints and the Virgin, they\n     assert nothing but what had been so engrafted into the faith of\n     this part of Europe as to have been rejected by no one without\n     suspicion or imputation of heresy. Perhaps Erasmus would not have\n     acquiesced with good-will in _all_ the decrees of the council; but\n     was Erasmus deemed orthodox?... No general council ever contained\n     so many persons of eminent learning and ability as that of Trent;\n     nor is there ground for believing that any other ever investigated\n     the questions before it with so much patience, acuteness, temper,\n     and desire of truth. The early councils, unless they are greatly\n     belied, would not bear comparison in these characteristics.\n     Impartiality and freedom from prejudice, no Protestant will\n     attribute to the fathers of Trent; but where will he produce these\n     qualities in an ecclesiastical synod? But it may be said that they\n     had only one leading prejudice, that of determining theological\n     faith according to the tradition of the Catholic Church, as handed\n     down to their age. This one point of authority conceded, I am\n     not aware that they can be proved to have decided wrong, or at\n     least against all reasonable evidence. Let those who have imbibed\n     a different opinion ask themselves whether they have read Sarpi\n     through with any attention, especially as to those sessions of the\n     Tridentine Council which preceded its suspension in 1549.\"[11]\n\nTo the praise of ability, industry, and fairness, all of the highest\norder from a natural point of view, Hallam unconsciously adds a\nstill greater, in the eyes of any true Catholic, namely, that the\ncouncil, on controverted dogmatic points, adhered to the tradition\nof the Catholic Church. And this on the authority of the carping\nSarpi! What more could the greatest admirer say? Right in its view of\ndogma from the traditional--the true Catholic--stand-point, honest\nand unswerving in reforming abuses, patient in discussion, diligent\nin research, calm in decision--such is the substantial verdict of a\nProtestant writer, in the nineteenth century, on the great council of\nthe sixteenth.\n\nIf we consider the variety of matters treated of in the council,\nits work will appear immense. The following accurate synopsis is\ntaken from the oration of Ragazzoni, at the last session, which\nwe have quoted before. In matters of faith, after the adoption of\nthe venerable creed sanctioned by antiquity, the council drew up a\ncatalogue of the inspired books of the Old and New Testament, and\napproved the old received Latin version of the Hebrew and Greek\noriginals. It then passed to decide the questions that had been\nraised concerning the fall of man. Next, with admirable wisdom and\norder, it laid down the true Catholic doctrine on justification.\nThe sacraments then claimed attention, and their number, their\nlife-giving power through grace, and the nature of each one were\naccurately defined. The great dogma of the blessed eucharist was\nfully laid down; the real dignity of the Christian altar and\nsacrifice was vindicated; and the moot question of communion under\none or two kinds settled both in theory and practice. Lastly,\nthe false accusations of opponents were dispelled, and Catholic\nconsciences gladdened by the enunciations on indulgences, purgatory,\nthe invocation and veneration of saints, and the respect to be paid\nto their relics and images. The decision on so many important and\ndifficult questions was no light task, and of the utmost importance.\nA \"hard and fast line\" was drawn between heresy and truth; and if\nthe wayward were not all converted, the little ones of Christ were\nsaved from the danger of being led astray. In her greatest trial,\nthe church gave no uncertain sound. Nations might rage, and the\nrulers of the earth meditate rash things; but the truth of God did\nnot abandon her, and she fearlessly proclaimed it in her council.\nIn regard to some abuses in practical matters, dependent on dogma,\nfrom which the innovators had seized a pretext to impugn the true\nfaith, a thorough reform was decreed. Measures were taken to prevent\nany impropriety or irreverence in the celebration of the divine\nsacrifice, whether from superstitious observances, greed of filthy\nlucre, unworthy celebrants, profane places, or worldly concomitants.\nThe different orders of ecclesiastics were accurately distinguished,\nand the exclusive rights and duties of each one clearly defined; some\nimpediments of matrimony, which had been productive of evil rather\nthan good, were removed, and most stringent regulations adopted to\nprevent the crying wrongs to which confiding innocence and virtue\nhad been subjected under the pretext of clandestine marriages.\nAll the abuses connected with indulgences, the veneration of the\nsaints, and intercession for the souls of purgatory, were fully and\nfinally extirpated. Nor was less care taken in regard to purely\ndisciplinary matters. Measures were taken to insure, as far at least\nas human frailty would permit, the elevation of only worthy persons\nto ecclesiastical dignities; and stated times were appointed for\nthe frequent and efficient preaching of the word of God, too much\nhitherto neglected, the necessity of which was insisted on with\nearnestness and practical force. The sacred duty of residence among\ntheir flocks was impressed on bishops and all inferiors having the\ncare of souls; proper provision was made for the support of needy\nclergymen, and all privileges which might protect heresy or crime\nwere swept away. To prevent all suspicion of avarice in the house\nof God, the gratuitous administration of the sacraments was made\ncompulsory; and measures were taken to put an effectual stop to the\ncareer of the questor, by abolishing the office. Young men destined\nfor the priesthood were to be trained in ecclesiastical seminaries;\nprovincial synods were restored, and regular diocesan visitations\nordered; many new and extended faculties were granted to the local\nauthorities, for the sake of better order and prompter decision;\nthe sacred duty of hospitality was inculcated in all clerics; wise\nregulations were passed to secure proper promotions to ecclesiastical\nbenefices; all hereditary possession of God's sanctuary prohibited;\nmoderation prescribed in the use of the power of excommunication;\nluxury, cupidity, and license, as far as possible, exiled from the\nsanctuary; most holy and wise provisions adopted for the better\nregulation of the religious of both sexes, who were judiciously shorn\nof many of their privileges, to the proper development of episcopal\nauthority; the great ones of the world were warned of their duties\nand responsibilities. These, and many other similar measures, were\nthe salutary, efficient, and lasting reforms with which God, at\nlast taking mercy on his people, inspired the fathers of Trent,\nlegitimately congregated under the presidency and guidance of the\napostolic see. Such was the great work done by the council--so great\nthat even this summary review makes our wonder at the length of its\nduration cease. One remark seems worthy of special notice. The usual\ncomplaint of Protestants against the council was, and is, that it was\ntoo much under papal influence. Now, one of the most notable features\nof its legislation is the great increase of the power of bishops.\nNot only was their _ordinary_ authority confirmed and extended, but\nthey were made in many cases, some of them of no little importance,\nperpetual delegates of the apostolic see, so that Philip II. of Spain\nis reported to have said of his bishops, that \"they went to Trent as\nparish priests, and returned like so many popes.\"[12] So groundless\nis the statement that the papal jealousy of episcopal power prevented\nany really salutary reforms.\n\nSuch was the great work of the Council of Trent. But a tree is best\njudged by its fruits, and this test will give us even a better idea\nof its importance and magnitude. Perhaps the best encomium of the\ncouncil is that the Catholic of to-day reads with astonishment of\nabuses and measures of reform in the sixteenth century. The prophecy\nof Ragazzoni, in his often-quoted oration, has been literally\nfulfilled--the names of many of the evils of that period have been\nforgotten. Thank God! to understand the work of Trent, we have to\nstudy the internal troubles of the church of those days in the pages\nof history, for we do not find them in our own time. They have\nutterly disappeared. We have already quoted Hallam on the revival\nof faith and piety in the church that was the immediate effect of\nthe council. All historians agree that the triumphs of Protestantism\nclosed with the first fifty years of its existence. After that it\ngradually declined. \"We see,\" says Macaulay in his famous _Edinburgh\nReview_ article on the papacy, \"that during two hundred and fifty\nyears Protestantism has made no conquests worth speaking of. Nay, we\nbelieve that as far as there has been a change, that change has been\nin favor of the Church of Rome.\" Hallam has noticed the same fact,\nand assigned its real causes; we shall give his words, as, with a\nfew obvious exceptions, they might have been written by a Catholic:\n\"The prodigious increase of the Protestant party in Europe, after\nthe middle of the (sixteenth) century, did not continue more than\na few years. It was checked and fell back, not quite so rapidly or\ncompletely as it came on, but so as to leave the antagonist church in\nperfect security.\" He goes on to give the causes of the reaction. The\ninfluence of the Council of Trent in its reform of the clergy, both\nsecular and regular, (we have already given his words,) is mentioned\nas the principal cause; and, \"far above all the rest,\" he says, \"the\nJesuits were the instruments of regaining France and Germany to the\nchurch they served.\" \"They conquered us,\" says Ranke, \"on our own\nground, in our own homes, and stripped us of a part of our country.\"\nThe following passages will give some idea of the extent and causes\nof the change:\n\n     \"Protestantism, as late as 1578, might be deemed preponderant\n     in all the Austrian dominions, except the Tyrol. In the Polish\n     diets, the dissidents, as they were called, met their opponents\n     with vigor and success. The ecclesiastical principalities were\n     full of Protestants; and even in the chapters some of them might\n     be found. But the contention was unequal, from the different\n     characters of the parties; religious zeal and devotion, which,\n     fifty years before, had overthrown the ancient rites in northern\n     Germany, were now more invigorating sentiments in those who\n     rescued them from further innovation. In religious struggles,\n     where there is any thing like an equality of forces, the question\n     soon comes to be, which party will make the greatest sacrifice for\n     its own faith? And, while the Catholic self-devotion had grown\n     far stronger, there was much more secular cupidity, lukewarmness,\n     and formality in the Lutheran Church. In a very few years the\n     effects of this were distinctly seen. The Protestants of the\n     Catholic principalities went back into the bosom of Rome. In the\n     bishopric of Wurtzburg alone, sixty-two thousand converts are\n     said to have been received in the year 1586. The Emperor Rodolph\n     and his brother archdukes, by a long series of persecution and\n     banishment, finally, though not within this century, almost\n     outrooted Protestantism from the hereditary provinces of Austria.\n     It is true that these violent measures were the proximate cause\n     of so many conversions; but if the reformed had been ardent\n     and united, they were much too strong to be thus subdued. In\n     Bohemia, accordingly, and in Hungary, where there was a more\n     steady spirit, they kept their ground. The reaction was not less\n     conspicuous in other countries. It is asserted that the Huguenots\n     had already lost more than two thirds of their number in 1580;[13]\n     comparatively, I presume, with twenty years before; and the change\n     in their relative position is manifest from all the histories\n     of this period. In the Netherlands, though the seven united\n     provinces were slowly winning their civil and religious liberties\n     at the sword's point, yet West Flanders, once in great measure\n     Protestant, became Catholic before the end of the century; while\n     the Walloon provinces were kept from swerving by some bishops of\n     great eloquence and excellent lives, as well as by the influence\n     of the Jesuits planted at St. Omer and Douay. At the close of this\n     period of fifty years, the mischief done to the old church in its\n     first decennium was very nearly repaired; the proportion of the\n     two religions in Germany coincided with those which had existed\n     at the pacification of Passau. The Jesuits, however, had begun to\n     encroach a little on the proper domain of the Lutheran church.\n\n     \"This great revival of the papal religion, after the shock it had\n     sustained in the first part of the sixteenth century, ought for\n     ever to restrain that temerity of prediction so frequent in our\n     ears.... In the year 1560, every Protestant in Europe doubtless\n     anticipated the overthrow of popery; the Catholics could have\n     found little else to warrant hope than their trust in heaven. The\n     late rush of many nations toward democratical opinions has not\n     been so rapid and so general as the change of religion about that\n     period. It is important and interesting to inquire what stemmed\n     this current. We readily acknowledge the prudence, firmness,\n     and unity of purpose that for the most part distinguished the\n     court of Rome, the obedience of its hierarchy, the severity of\n     intolerant laws, and the searching rigor of the Inquisition, the\n     resolute adherence of great princes to the Catholic faith, the\n     influence of the Jesuits over education; but these either existed\n     before, or would at least not have been sufficient to withstand\n     an overwhelming force of opinion. It must be acknowledged that\n     there was a principle of vitality in that religion, independent\n     of its external strength. By the side of its secular pomp, its\n     relaxation of morality, there had always been an intense flame\n     of zeal and devotion. Superstition, it might be, in the many,\n     fanaticism in a few; but both of these imply the qualities which,\n     while they subsist, render a religion indestructible. That revival\n     of an ardent zeal, through which the Franciscans had, in the\n     thirteenth century, with some good and much more evil effect,\n     spread a popular enthusiasm over Europe, was once more displayed\n     in counteraction of those new doctrines that themselves had drawn\n     their life from a similar development of moral emotion.\"[14]\n\nIn the Council of Trent were again fulfilled the words of the prophet\nconcerning the Messiah: \"Behold, he cometh ... like a refining fire,\nand like the fuller's herb; and he shall sit refining and cleansing\nthe silver: and he shall purify the sons of Levi, and shall refine\nthem as gold, and as silver; and they shall offer sacrifices to the\nLord in justice; and the sacrifice shall please the Lord, as in the\ndays of old, and in the ancient years.\"[15]\n\nThe zeal of the fathers did not, it is true, succeed in bringing back\nall the Protestants; but neither did the Council of Nice succeed\nwith the Arians, or that of Ephesus with the Nestorians, or that of\nChalcedon with the followers of Eutyches. But they kept the Catholic\nfaith pure; they sternly applied the pruning-hook to the numerous\nexcrescences which had been allowed to accumulate. God blessed their\nwork; and the tree of life, planted by running waters, again produced\nnew flowers and fruits of holiness.\n\nThough from the moment the decrees were solemnly approved by the holy\nsee, with the exception of that on clandestine marriages, for which\nspecial provision had been made, they commenced to be obligatory\non the whole church; yet it was thought well to obtain a special\npromulgation in the different Catholic countries of Europe. The\nrepublic of Venice and the king of Portugal first gave the example;\nPhilip II. of Spain followed, and was imitated, after some little\ndelay in the hope of reconciling the Protestants, by the German\nemperor. France, then governed by Catharine of Medici, alone, of\nCatholic countries, refused. The excuse given was, principally, the\nturbulence of the Huguenots; the real reason, the desire to preserve\ncertain royal prerogatives in church matters,[16] with which the\nreforms of the council interfered. So, in the name of Gallican\nliberties and royal privileges, the disciplinary portion was not\npublished in France. Most of the measures were actually adopted by\nthe bishops in provincial councils; but the seed of great evils\nwas sown. These same liberties, so called, rendered possible the\nchicanery by which the Jansenists subsequently sought to elude the\nsolemn condemnations of the holy see; and at the revolution gave the\nidea of the civil constitution of the clergy, rather than accept\nwhich so many noble bishops and priests gladly met death. But the\nFrench Church has tired of them; a terrible experience has taught\nher that the only true safeguard of her liberty is, in a close union\nwith the see of him to whom Christ confided the duty of strengthening\nhis brethren. In regard to the decrees on faith, there was never any\nhesitancy in France; and we owe some of our very best apologetic\nor controversial works against Protestantism to zealous and learned\nwriters of that nation.\n\nOne remarkable consequence of the council was a great outpouring\nof the spirit of sanctity. St. Charles Borromeo, as prime minister\nof his uncle, Pius IV., contributed greatly to its successful\ntermination. Afterward, as archbishop of Milan, he set an example\nof enforcing its decrees which has ever since served as a rule for\nzealous bishops. He changed the face of affairs in Lombardy, and may\nbe said to have led the way in practically carrying the reforms into\neffect. Numbers of holy bishops aided him, or imitated his example;\nand before he died the new discipline was well established. At Rome,\nSt. Philip Neri excited in a wonderful way the spirit of zeal in the\nclergy, and of piety in the laity; and his work and example remain to\nthis day. It is impossible not to be struck with the new spirit that\nhad seized the papal court. The popes themselves were men not only\nof blameless lives, but zealous and active for the good of religion.\nA glance at Ranke's history--especially the notes at the end--will\nsatisfy the reader of this; while Catholic works abound in edifying\naccounts. Such men as Baronius and Bellarmine were ornaments of the\nSacred College, not only for their learning, but for their solid,\nextraordinary piety, which has barely failed of obtaining the honors\nof the altar. The Society of Jesus, and other religious orders,\nwere seminaries of virtues, of zeal, of missionary spirit; and the\nheralds of the cross went to the very ends of the earth to bring\nthe glad tidings of salvation to those sitting in darkness. Every\nstate and condition of life has its saints of this period. St. Mary\nMagdalen di Pazzi, the nun; St. Francis Borgia, the rich man who\ngave up all for Christ; St. Felix of Cantalice, the unlettered lay\nbrother; St. Aloysius, the pattern of youth; St. Francis Xavier, the\napostle; St. Charles, the model bishop; St. Philip Neri, the perfect\nsecular priest; St. Pius V., the pope who added to his triple crown\nthe fourth, and greatest, of sanctity; and many others, whose names\nare not so well known to the world. It was emphatically the age of\nsaints: war always produces heroes.\n\nThere have been shortcomings since Trent, because the church has\nher human as well as her divine element, and heresies and scandals,\nit was foretold by her divine Founder, must come; but, by far, not\nso many as before it. The contrast between the ease with which Pius\nIX. convokes a general council and the difficulties with which his\npredecessors had to contend in the sixteenth century, is so plain\nas to require no comment, and, at the same time, affords striking\nevidence of the efficacy of the work done at Trent. It was a great\nwork, in every sense of the word. It met from the beginning with\ngreat difficulties, which were overcome by equal constancy; it was\ndevised and executed by men great in learning, prudence, and zeal; it\neffected a reaction in favor of Catholicity than which there never\noccurred \"one on a larger scale in the annals of mankind;\"[17] it\nthoroughly purified the church from wretched and inveterate abuses;\nit revived a spirit of sanctity that emulated the palmiest days of\nthe church; and it has handed down to us the boon of pure faith and\nstrict observance which our unfortunate opponents cannot but admire,\neven though they attempt to decry it. While Protestantism was pulling\ndown, the council built up on a sure foundation; and its work has\nbeen lasting.\n\nThrough the lapse of three centuries the grateful church has ever\nre-echoed, as she re-echoes at this day, the acclamation of the\nCardinal of Lorraine, \"The sacred ecumenical Council of Trent--let\nus profess its faith; let us always observe its decrees. _Semper\nconfiteamur, semper servemus._\"\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[2] Pallavicini. _Historia Conc. Trid. Apparatus._ Chap. 1, \u00a7 4. We\nquote from the Latin translation of F. Giattini, S.J.\n\n[3] _Sermons on the Failure of Protestantism._ Sermon v.\n\n[4] Introd. to _The Literature of Europe_. Part ii. ch. 2, \u00a7\u00a7 7, 8.\n\n[5] Pallav. Lib. v. c. 17, \u00a7 8.\n\n[6] Lib. xi. c. 6, \u00a7 4.\n\n[7] Lib. xiv. c. 9, \u00a7 5.\n\n[8] Pallav. Lib. xxiv. c. 9, \u00a7 5.\n\n[9] We append the estimate which Hallam himself forms of the\nCatholicity of this unfortunate friar: \"Dupin observes that the\nlong list of errors imputed by Pallavicini, which are chiefly in\ndates and such trifling matters, make little or no difference as\nto the substance of Sarpi's history; but that its author is more\nblamable for a malicious disposition to impute political motives to\nthe members of the council, and idle reasonings which they did not\nemploy. Ranke, who has given this a more minute scrutiny than Dupin\ncould have done, comes nearly to the same result. Sarpi is not a\nfair, but he is, for those times, a tolerably exact historian....\nMuch has been disputed about the religious tenets of Father Paul: it\nappears to me quite out of doubt, both by the tenor of his history,\nand still more unequivocally, if possible, by some of his letters\nthat he was entirely hostile to the church, in the usual sense,\nas well as to the court of Rome; sympathizing in affection, and\nconcurring generally in opinion, with the reformed denomination.\"\n(_Lit. of Europe_, Part iii. ch. 2, \u00a7 3.) \"This confirms the\nprincipal points in Pallavicini's main charge, that Sarpi was hostile\nto the church, and substituted his own malicious conjectures for the\ntruth of history.\" (See _Apparatus_, ch. 1.)\n\n[10] _Literature of Eur._ Part i. ch. 6, \u00a7 25.\n\n[11] _Literature of Europe_, Part ii. ch. 2, \u00a7 18, note.\n\n[12] Pallav. _Hist. Appar._ ch. 9, \u00a7 4.\n\n[13] In a note, quoting Ranke as authority, he adds, \"The number is\nrather startling.\"\n\n[14] _Lit. of Europe_, Part ii. c. 2, \u00a7\u00a7 14, 15.\n\n[15] Mal. iii. 2-4.\n\n[16] One of these was the power of giving regular benefices _in\ncommendam_, that is, conferring the style, title, rank, and revenues\nof abbot, or other religious superior, on some one not a member\nof the religious community, who enjoyed the advantages but never\nperformed the duties of his office. Two evils followed: 1. An\necclesiastical benefice was a mere matter of political patronage, and\nliable to be conferred on unworthy persons. 2. Owing to the absence\nof the chief superior, discipline became very relaxed in religious\ncommunities so afflicted. At least one regular congregation, in\nFrance, entirely died out on this account.\n\n[17] Hallam. _Lit. of Eur._ Part ii. ch. 2, \u00a7 6.\n\n\n\n\nMATTHEW XXVII.\n\n     \"And He answered them nothing.\"\n\n\n    O mighty Nothing! unto thee,\n    Nothing, we owe all things that be.\n    God spake once when He all things made,\n    He saved all when He nothing said.\n    The world was made of nothing then;\n    'Tis made by nothing now again.\n\n                                          CRASHAW.\n\n\n\n\nTRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF CONRAD VON BOLANDEN.\n\nANGELA.\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nTHE BUREAUCRAT AND THE SWALLOWS.\n\nHerr Frank returned to the city. Before he went he took advantage\nof the absence of Richard, who had gone out about nine o'clock, to\nconverse with Klingenberg about matters of importance. They sat in\nthe doctor's studio, the window of which was open. Frank closed it\nbefore he began the conversation.\n\n\"Dear friend, I must speak to you about a very distressing\npeculiarity of my son. I do so because I know your influence over\nhim, and I hope much from it.\"\n\nKlingenberg listened with surprise, for Herr Frank had begun in great\nearnestness and seemed greatly depressed.\n\n\"On our journey from the city, I discovered in Richard, to my great\nsurprise, a deep-seated antipathy, almost an abhorrence of women. He\nis determined never to marry. He considers marriage a misfortune,\ninasmuch as it binds a man to the whims and caprices of a wife. If I\nhad many sons, Richard's idiosyncrasy would be of little consequence;\nbut as he is my only son and very stubborn in his preconceived\nopinions, you will see how very distressing it must be to me.\"\n\n\"What is the cause of this antipathy of your son to women?\"\n\nHerr Frank related Richard's account of his meeting with Isabella and\nhis knowledge of the unhappy marriage of his friend Emil.\n\n\"Do you not think that experiences of this kind must repel a\nnoble-minded young man?\" said the doctor.\n\n\"Admitted! But Isabella and Laura are exceptions, and exceptions by\nno means justify my son's perverted judgment of women. I told him\nthis. But he still declared that Isabella and Laura were the rule\nand not the exception; that the women of the present day follow a\nperverted taste; and that the wearing of crinoline, a costume he\ndetests, proves this.\"\n\n\"I know,\" said the doctor, \"that Richard abominates crinoline. Last\nyear he expressed his opinion about it, and I had to agree with him.\"\n\n\"My God!\" said the father, astonished, \"you certainly would not\nencourage my son in his perverted opinion?\"\n\n\"No,\" returned the doctor quietly; \"but you must not expect me to\ncondemn sound opinions. His judgment of woman is prejudiced--granted.\nBut observe well, my dear Frank. This judgment is at the same time\na protest of a noble nature against the age of crinoline. Your son\nexpects much of women. Superficiality, vanity, passion for dress,\nfickleness, and so forth, do not satisfy his sense of propriety.\nMarriage, to him, is an earnest, holy union. He would unite himself\nto a well-disposed woman, to a noble soul who would love her husband\nand her duties, but not to a degenerate specimen of womankind. Such\nI conceive to have been the reasons which have produced in your son\nthis antipathy.\"\n\n\"I believe you judge rightly,\" answered Frank. \"But it must appear\nclear to Richard that his views are unjust, and that there are\nalways women who would realize his expectations.\"\n\nThe doctor thought for a moment, and a significant smile played over\nhis features.\n\n\"This must become clear to him--yes, and it will become clear to him\nsooner, perhaps, than you expect,\" said the doctor.\n\n\"I do not understand you, doctor.\"\n\n\"Yesterday we met Angela,\" said Klingenberg. \"This Angela is an\nextraordinary being of dazzling beauty; almost the incarnation of\nRichard's ideal. I told him of her fine qualities, which he was\ninclined to question. But happily I was able to establish these\nqualities by facts. Now, as Angela lives but a mile from here and as\nthe simple customs of the country render access to the family easy,\nI have not understood the character of your son if he does not take\nadvantage of this opportunity to become more intimately acquainted\nwith Angela, even if his object were only to confirm his former\nopinions of women. If he knew Angela more intimately, it is my firm\nconviction that his aversion would soon change into the most ardent\naffection.\"\n\n\"Who is this Angela?\"\n\n\"The daughter of your neighbor, Siegwart.\"\n\nFrank looked at the doctor with open mouth and staring eyes.\n\n\"Siegwart's daughter!\" he gasped. \"No, I will never consent to such a\nconnection.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"Well--because the Siegwart family are not agreeable to me.\"\n\n\"That is no reason. Siegwart is an excellent man, rich, upright, and\nrespected by the whole neighborhood. Why does he happen to appear so\nunfavorably in your eyes?\"\n\nFrank was perplexed. He might have reasons and yet be ashamed to give\nthem.\n\n\"Ah!\" said the doctor, smiling, \"it is now for you to lay aside\nprejudice.\"\n\n\"An explanation is not possible,\" said Frank. \"But my son will rather\ndie a bachelor than marry Siegwart's daughter.\"\n\nKlingenberg shrugged his shoulders. There was a long pause.\n\n\"I renew my request, my friend,\" urged Frank. \"Convince my son of his\nerrors.\"\n\n\"I will try to meet your wishes,\" returned Klingenberg. \"Perhaps this\ndaughter of Siegwart will afford efficient aid.\"\n\n\"My son's liberty will not be restricted. He may visit the Siegwart\nfamily when he wishes. But in matters where the mature mind of the\nfather has to decide, I shall always act according to my better\njudgment.\"\n\nThe doctor again shrugged his shoulders. They shook hands, and in\nten minutes after Herr Frank was off for the train. Richard had\nleft Frankenh\u00f6he two hours before. He passed quickly through the\nvineyard. A secret power seemed to impel the young man. He glanced\noften at Siegwart's handsome dwelling, and hopeful suspense agitated\nhis countenance. When he reached the lawn, he slackened his pace.\nHe would reflect, and understand clearly the object of his visit.\nHe came to observe Angela, whose character had made such a strong\nimpression on him and who threatened to compel him to throw his\npresent opinions of women to the winds. He would at the same time\nreflect on the consequences of this possible change to his peace and\nliberty.\n\n\"Angela is beautiful, very beautiful, far more so than a hundred\nothers who are beautiful but wear crinoline.\" He had written in his\ndiary:\n\n     \"Of what value is corporal beauty that fades when it is disfigured\n     by bad customs and caprices? I admit that I have never yet met\n     any woman so graceful and charming as Angela; but this very\n     circumstance warns me to be careful that my judgment may not\n     be dazzled. If it turns out that Angela sets herself up as a\n     religious coquette or a Pharisee, her fine figure is only a\n     deceitful mask of falsehood, and my opinion would again be\n     verified. I must make observations with great care.\"\n\nFrank reviewed these resolutions as he passed slowly over the lawn,\nwhere some servants were employed, who greeted him respectfully as he\npassed. In the hall he heard a man's voice that came from the same\nroom he had entered on his first visit. The door was open, and the\nvoice spoke briskly and warmly.\n\nFrank stopped for a moment and heard the voice say,\n\n\"Miss Angela is as lovely as ever.\"\n\nThese words vibrated disagreeably in Richard's soul, and urged him to\nknow the man from whom they came.\n\nHerr Siegwart went to meet the visitor and offered him his hand. The\nother gentleman remained sitting, and looked at Frank with stately\nindifference.\n\n\"Herr Frank, my esteemed neighbor of Frankenh\u00f6he,\" said Siegwart,\nintroducing Frank.\n\nThe gentleman rose and made a stiff bow.\n\n\"The Assessor von Hamm,\" continued the proprietor.\n\nFrank made an equally stiff and somewhat colder bow.\n\nThe three sat down.\n\nWhile Siegwart rang the bell, Richard cast a searching glance at the\nassessor who had said, \"Angela is as lovely as ever.\"\n\nThe assessor had a pale, studious color, regular features in which\nthere was an expression of official importance. Frank, who was a\nfine observer, thought he had never seen such a perfect and sharply\ndefined specimen of the bureaucratic type. Every wrinkle in the\nassessor's forehead told of arrogance and absolutism. The red ribbon\nin the button-hole of Herr von Hamm excited Frank's astonishment. He\nthought it remarkable that a young man of four or five and twenty\ncould have merited the ribbon of an order. He might infer from this\nthat decorations and merit do not necessarily go together.\n\n\"How glad I am that you have kept your word!\" said Siegwart to Frank\ncomplacently. \"How is your father?\"\n\n\"Very well; he goes this morning to the city, where business calls\nhim.\"\n\n\"I have often admired your father's attentions to Dr. Klingenberg,\"\nsaid Siegwart after a short pause. \"He has for years had Frankenh\u00f6he\nprepared for the accommodation of the doctor. You are Klingenberg's\nconstant companion, and I do not doubt but such is the wish of your\nfather. And your father tears himself from his business and comes\nfrequently from the city to see that the doctor's least wish is\nrealized. I have observed this these last eight years, and I have\noften thought that the doctor is to be envied, on account of this\nnoble friendship.\"\n\n\"You know, I suppose, that the doctor saved my father when his life\nwas despaired of?\"\n\n\"I know; but there are many physicians who have saved lives and who\ndo not find such a noble return.\"\n\nThese words of acknowledgment had something in them very offensive\nto the assessor. He opened and shut his eyes and mouth, and cast a\ngrudging, envious look at Richard.\n\nThe servant brought a glass.\n\n\"Try this wine,\" said Siegwart; \"my own growth,\" he added with some\npride.\n\nThey touched glasses. Hamm put his glass to his lips, without\ndrinking; Frank tasted the noble liquor with the air of a\nconnoisseur; while Siegwart's smiling gaze rested on him.\n\n\"Excellent! I do not remember to have drank better Burgundy.\"\n\n\"Real Burgundy, neighbor--real Burgundy. I brought the vines from\nFrance.\"\n\n\"Do you not think the vines degenerate with us?\" said Frank.\n\n\"They have not degenerated yet. Besides, proper care and attention\nmake up for the unsuitableness of our soil and climate.\"\n\n\"You would oblige me, Herr Siegwart, if you would preserve me some\nshoots when you next trim them.\"\n\n\"With pleasure. I had them set last year; they shot forth fine roots,\nand I can let you have any number of shoots.\"\n\n\"Is it not too late to plant them?\"\n\n\"Just the right time. Our vine-growers generally set them too early.\nIt should be done in May, and not in April. Shall I send them over?\"\n\n\"You are too kind, Herr Siegwart. My request must certainly destroy\nyour plan in regard to those shoots.\"\n\n\"Not at all; I have all I can use. It gives me great pleasure to be\nable to accommodate a neighbor. It's settled; I'll send over the\nBurgundies this evening.\"\n\nIt was clear to Hamm that Siegwart desired to be agreeable to the\nwealthy Frank. The assessor opened and shut his eyes and mouth, and\nfidgeted about in his chair. While he inwardly boiled and fretted, he\nvery properly concluded that he must consider himself offended. From\nthe moment of Frank's arrival, the proprietor had entirely forgotten\nhim. He was about to leave, in order not to expose his nerves to\nfurther excitement, when chance afforded him an opportunity to give\nvent to his ill-humor.\n\nTwo boys came running into the room. They directed their bright eyes\nto Siegwart, and their childish, joyful faces, seemed to say,\n\n\"Here we are again; you know very well what we want.\"\n\nOne of them carried a tin box in his hand; there was a lock on the\nbox, and a small opening in the top--evidently a money-box.\n\n\"Gelobt sei Jesus Christus,\" said the children, and remained standing\nnear the door.\n\n\"In Ewigkeit,\" returned Siegwart. \"Are you there again, my little\nones? That's right; come here, Edward.\" And Siegwart took out his\npurse and dropped a few pennies into the box.\n\n\"A savings-box? Who gave the permission?\" said the assessor in a tone\nthat frightened the children, astonished Richard, and caused Siegwart\nto look with embarrassment at the questioner.\n\n\"For the pope, Herr von Hamm,\" said Siegwart.\n\nThe official air of the assessor became more severe.\n\n\"The ordinances make no exceptions,\" retorted Hamm. \"The ordinances\nforbid all collections that are not officially permitted.\" And he\neyed the box as if he had a notion to confiscate it.\n\nPerhaps the lads noticed this, for they moved backward to the door\nand suddenly disappeared from the room.\n\n\"I beg pardon, Herr Assessor,\" said Siegwart. \"The Peter-pence is\ncollected in the whole Catholic world, and the Catholics of Salingen\nthought they ought to assist the head of their church, who is so\nsorely pressed, and who has been robbed of his possessions.\"\n\n\"I answer--the ordinances make no exceptions; the Peter-pence comes\nunder the ordinances. I find myself compelled to interpose against\nthis trespass.\"\n\n\"But the Peter-pence is collected in the whole country, Herr von\nHamm! Why, even in the public journals we read the results of this\ncollection, and I have never heard that the government forbade the\nPeter-pence.\"\n\n\"Leave the government out of the question. I stand on my\ninstructions. The government forbids all collections unless\npermission is granted. You must not expect an official to connive at\nan open breach of the ordinances. I will do my duty and remind the\nburgomaster of Salingen that he has not done his.\"\n\nThe occurrence was very annoying to Siegwart; this could be seen in\nhis troubled countenance. He thought of the reproof of the timid\nburgomaster, and feared that the collection might in future be\nstopped.\n\n\"You have the authority, Herr Assessor, to permit it; I beg you will\ndo so.\"\n\n\"The request must be made in written official form,\" said Hamm. \"You\nknow, Herr Siegwart, that I am disposed to comply with your wishes,\nbut I regret I cannot do so in the present case; and I must openly\nconfess I oppose the Peter-pence on principle. The temporal power of\nthe pope has become unnecessary. Why support an untenable dominion?\"\n\n\"I consider the temporal power of the pope to be a necessity,\" said\nSiegwart emphatically. \"If the pope were not an independent prince,\nbut the subject of another ruler, he would in many things have to\ngovern the church according to the mind and at the command of his\nsuperior. Sound common sense tells us that the pope must be free.\"\n\n\"Certainly, as far as I am concerned,\" returned Hamm. \"But why\ndrain the money out of the country for an object that cannot be\naccomplished? I tell you that the political standing of the bankrupt\npapal government will not be saved by the Peter-pence.\"\n\n\"Permit me to observe, Herr Assessor, that I differ with you\nentirely. The papal government is by no means bankrupt--quite the\ncontrary. Until the breaking out of the Franco-Sardinian revolution,\nits finances were as well managed and flourishing as those of any\nstate in Europe. I will convince you of this in a moment.\" He went to\nthe bookcase and handed the assessor a newspaper. \"These statistics\nwill convince you of the correctness of my assertion.\"\n\n\"As the documents to prove these statements are wanting, I have\ngreat reason to doubt their correctness,\" said Hamm. \"Paper will not\nrefuse ink, and in the present case the pen was evidently driven by a\nfriendly hand.\"\n\n\"Why do you draw this conclusion?\"\n\n\"From the contradictions between this account of the papal finances\nand that given by all independent editors.\"\n\n\"Permit me to call that editor not 'an independent,' but a 'friend of\nthe church.' The enemies of the church will not praise a church which\nthey hate. The papal government is the most calumniated government on\nearth; and calumny and falsehood perform wonders in our times. The\nItalian situation furnishes at present a most striking illustration.\nThe king of Piedmont has been raised to the rulership of Italy by the\nunanimous voice of the people--so say the papers. But the revolution\nin the greater part of Italy at the present time proves that the\nunanimous voice of the people was a sham, and that the Piedmontese\ngovernment is hated and despised by the majority of the Italians. It\nis the same in many other things. If falsehood and calumny were not\nthe order of the day, falsehood and calumny would not sit crowned on\nthe throne.\"\n\n\"Right!\" said Richard. \"It is indisputable. It is nothing but the\ndepravity of the times that enables the emperor to domineer over the\nworld.\"\n\nSiegwart heard Frank's observation with pleasure. Hamm read this in\nthe open countenance of the proprietor, and he made a movement as\nthough he would like to tramp on Frank's toes.\n\n\"I admit the flourishing condition of the former Papal States,\" said\nHamm, with a mock smile. \"I will also admit that the former subjects\nof the pope, who have been impoverished by the hungry Piedmontese,\ndesire the milder papal government. 'There is good living under the\ncrozier,' says an old proverb. But what does all this amount to?\nDoes the beautiful past overthrow the accomplished facts of the\npresent? The powers have determined to put an end to papal dominion.\nThe powers have partly accomplished this. Can the Peter-pence change\nthe programme of the powers? Certainly not. The papal government\nmust go the way of all flesh, and if the Catholics are taxed for an\nunattainable object, it is, in my opinion, unjust, to say the least.\"\n\nThe proprietor shook his head thoughtfully. \"We consider the question\nfrom very different stand-points,\" said he. \"Pius IX. is the head of\nthe church--the spiritual father of all Catholics. The revolution\nhas robbed him of his revenues. Why should not Catholics give their\nfather assistance?\"\n\n\"And I ask,\" said Hamm, \"why give the pope alms when the powers are\nready to give him millions?\"\n\n\"On what conditions, Herr Assessor?\"\n\n\"Well--on the very natural condition that he will acknowledge\naccomplished facts.\"\n\n\"You find this condition so natural!\" said Siegwart, somewhat\nexcited. \"Do you forget the position of the pope? Remember\nthat on those very principles of which the pope is the highest\nrepresentative, was built the civilization of the present. The pope\ncondemns robbery, injustice, violence, and all the principles of\nmodern revolution. How can the pope acknowledge as accomplished\nfacts, results which have sprung from injustice, robbery, and\nviolence? The moment the pope does that, he ceases to be the first\nteacher of the people and the vicar of Christ on earth.\"\n\n\"You take a strong religious position, my dear friend,\" said Hamm,\nsmiling compassionately.\n\n\"I do, most assuredly,\" said the proprietor with emphasis. \"And I am\nconvinced that my position is the right one.\"\n\nHamm smiled more complacently still. Frank observed this smile; and\nthe contemptuous manner of the official toward the open, kind-hearted\nproprietor annoyed him.\n\n\"Pius IX. is at any rate a noble man,\" said he, looking sharply at\nthe assessor. \"There exists a critical state of uncertainty in all\ngovernments. All the courts and principalities look to Paris, and\nthe greatest want of principle seems to be in the state taxation.\nThe pope alone does not shrink; he fears neither the anger nor the\nthreats of the powers. While thrones are tumbling, and Pius IX.\nis not master in his own house, that remarkable man does not make\nthe least concession to the man in power. The powers have broken\ntreaties, trampled on justice, and there is no longer any right\nbut the right of revolution--of force. There is nothing any longer\ncertain; all is confusion. The pope alone holds aloft the banner\nof right and justice. In his manifestoes to the world, he condemns\nerror, falsehood, and injustice. The pope alone is the shield of\nthose moral forces which have for centuries given stability and\nsafety to governments. This firmness, this confidence in the genius\nof Christianity, this unsurpassed struggle of Pius, deserves the\nhighest admiration even of those who look upon the contest with\nindifference.\"\n\nSiegwart listened and nodded assent. Hamm ate sardines, without\npaying the least attention to the speaker.\n\n\"The Roman love of power is well known, and Rome has at all times\nmade the greatest sacrifices for it,\" said he.\n\nThe proprietor drummed with his fingers on the table. Frank thought\nhe observed him suppressing his anger, before he answered,\n\n\"Rome does not contend for love of dominion. She contends for\nthe authority of religion, for the maintenance of those eternal\nprinciples without which there is no civilization. This even Herder,\nwho is far from being a friend of Rome, admits when he says, 'Without\nthe church, Europe would, perhaps, be a prey to despots, a scene\nof eternal discord, and a Mogul wilderness.' Rome's battle is,\ntherefore, very important, and honorable. Had it not been for her,\nyou would not have escaped the bloody terrorisms of the power-seeking\nrevolution. Think of French liberty at present, think of the large\npopulation of Cayenne, of the Neapolitan prisons, where thousands of\ninnocent men hopelessly languish.\"\n\n\"You have not understood me, my dear Siegwart. Take an example for\nillustration. The press informs us almost daily of difficulties\nbetween the government and the clergy. The cause of this trouble is\nthat the latter are separated from and wish to oppose the former. To\nspeak plainly, the Catholic clergy are non-conforming. They will not\ngive up that abnormal position which the moral force of past times\nconceded to them. But in organized states, the clergy, the bishops,\nand the pastors should be nothing more than state officials, whose\nrule of conduct is the command of the sovereign.\"\n\n\"That is to make the church the servant of the state,\" said Siegwart.\n\"Religion, stripped of her divine title, would be nothing more than\nthe tool of the minister to restrain the people.\"\n\n\"Well, yes,\" said the official very coolly. \"Religion is always\na strong curb on the rough, uneducated masses; and if religion\nrestrains the ignorant, supports the moral order and the government,\nshe has fulfilled her mission.\"\n\nThe proprietor opened wide his eyes.\n\n\"Religion, according to my belief, educates men not for the state but\nfor their eternal destiny.\"\n\n\"Perfectly right, Herr Siegwart, according to your view of the\nquestion. I admire the elevation of your religious convictions, which\nall men cannot rise up to.\"\n\nA mock smile played on the assessor's pale countenance as he said\nthis. Siegwart did not observe it; but Frank did.\n\n\"If I understand you rightly, Herr Assessor, the clergy are only\nstate officials in clerical dress.\"\n\nThe assessor nodded his head condescendingly, and continued to soak a\nsardine in olive-oil and take it between his knife and fork as Frank\nbegan to speak. The fine-feeling Frank felt nettled at this contempt,\nand immediately chastised Hamm for his want of politeness.\n\n\"I take your nod for an affirmative answer to my question,\" said he.\n\"You will allow me to observe that your view of the position and\npurpose of the clergy must lead to the most absurd consequences.\"\n\nThe assessor turned an ashy color. He threw himself back on the sofa\nand looked at the speaker with scornful severity.\n\n\"My view is that of every enlightened statesman of the nineteenth\ncentury,\" said he proudly. \"How can you, a mere novice in state\nmatters, come to such a conclusion.\"\n\n\"I come to it by sound thinking,\" said Frank haughtily. \"If the\nclergy are only the servants of the state, they are bound in the\nexercise of their functions to follow the instructions of the state.\"\n\n\"Very natural,\" said the official.\n\n\"If the government think a change in the church necessary, say the\nseparation of the school from the church, the abolition of festivals,\nthe appointing of infidel professors to theological chairs, the\ncompiling of an enlightened catechism--and all these relate to the\nspirit of the times or the supposed welfare of the state--then the\nclergy must obey.\"\n\n\"That is self-evident,\" said the assessor.\n\n\"You see I comprehend your idea of the supreme power of the state,\"\ncontinued Frank. \"The state is supreme. The church must be deprived\nof all independence. She must not constitute a state within a state.\nIf it seems good to a minister to abolish marriage as a sacrament,\nor the confessional, or to subject the teaching of the clergy to\na revision by the civil authority, because a majority of the\nchambers wish it, or because the spirit of the age demands it, then\nthe opposition of the clergy would be illegal and their resistance\ndisobedience.\"\n\n\"Naturally--naturally,\" said the official impatiently. \"Come, now,\nlet us have the proof of your assertion.\"\n\n\"Draw the conclusions from what I have said, Herr Assessor, and you\nhave the most striking proof of the absurdity and ridiculousness of\nyour gagged state church,\" said Frank haughtily.\n\n\"How so, how so?\" cried Hamm inquiringly.\n\n\"Simply thus: If the priest must preach according to the august\ninstructions of the state and not according to the principles of\nreligious dogma, he would then preach Badish in Baden, Hessish in\nHesse, Bavarian in Bavaria, Mecklenburgish in Mecklenburg; in short,\nthere would be as many sects as there are states and principalities.\nAnd these sects would be constantly changing, as the chambers or\nministerial instructions would command or allow. All religion would\ncease; for it would be no longer the expression of the divine will\nand revelation, but the work of the chambers and the princes. Such a\nreligion would be contemptible in the eyes of every thinking man. I\nwould not give a brass button for such a religion.\"\n\n\"You go too far, Herr Frank,\" said Hamm. \"Religion has a divine\ntitle, and this glory must be retained.\"\n\n\"Then the clergy must be free.\"\n\n\"Certainly, that is clear,\" said the assessor as he arose, and, with\na smiling face, bowed lowly. Angela had entered the hall, and in\nconsequence of Hamm's greeting was obliged to come into the room. She\nmight have returned from a walk, for she wore a straw hat and a light\nshawl was thrown over her shoulders. She led by the hand her little\nsister Eliza, a charming child of four years.\n\nThe sisters remained standing near the door. Eliza looked with\nwondering eyes at the stranger, whose movements were very wonderful\nto the mind of the little one, and whose pale face excited her\ninterest.\n\nAngela's glance seemed to have blown away all the official dust that\nremained in the soul of Hamm. The assessor was unusually agreeable.\nHis face lost its obstinate expression, and became light and\nanimated. Even its color changed to one of life and nature.\n\nTo Richard, who liked to take notes, and whose visit to Siegwart's\nhad no other object, the change that could be produced in a\nbureaucrat by such rare womanly beauty was very amusing. He had\narisen and stepped back a little. He observed the assessor carefully\ntill a smile between astonishment and pity lit up his countenance.\nHe then looked at Angela, who stood motionless on the same spot.\nIt seemed to require great resignation on her part to notice the\nflattering speech and obsequious attentions of the assessor. Richard\nobserved that her countenance was tranquil, but her manner more\ngrave than usual. She still held the little one by the hand, who\npressed yet closer to her the nearer the wonderful man came. Hamm's\nvoice rose to a tone of enthusiasm, and he took a step or two toward\nthe object of his reverence, when a strange enemy confronted him.\nSome swallows had come in with Angela. Till now they were quiet and\nseemed to be observing the assessor; but when he approached Angela,\nbriskly gesticulating, the swallows raised their well-known shrill\ncry of anxiety, left their perches and fluttered around the official.\nInterrupted in the full flow of his eloquence, he struck about with\nhis hands to frighten them. The swallows only became the noisier, and\ntheir fluttering about Hamm assumed a decidedly warlike character.\nThey seemed to consider him as a dangerous enemy of Angela whom they\nwished to keep off. Richard looked on in wonder, Siegwart shook his\nhead and stroked his beard, and Angela smiled at the swallows.\n\n\"These are abominable creatures,\" cried Hamm warding them off.\n\"Why, such a thing never happened to me before. Off with you! you\ntroublesome wretches.\"\n\nThe birds flew out of the room, still screaming; and their shrill\ncries could be heard high up in the air.\n\n\"The swallows have a grudge against you,\" said Siegwart. \"They\ngenerally treat only the cats and hawks in this way.\"\n\n\"Perhaps they have been frightened at this red ribbon,\" returned\nHamm. \"I regret, my dear young lady, to have frightened your little\npets. When I come again, I will leave the object of their terror at\nhome.\"\n\n\"You should not deprive yourself of an ornament which has an\nhonorable significance on account of the swallows, particularly as\nwe do not know whether it was really the red color that displeased\nthem,\" said she.\n\n\"You think, then, Miss Angela, that there is something else about me\nthey dislike?\"\n\n\"I do not know, Herr Assessor.\"\n\n\"Oh! if I only knew the cause of their displeasure,\" said Hamm\nenthusiastically. \"You have an affection for the swallows, and I\nwould not displease any thing that you love.\"\n\nShe answered by an inclination, and was about to leave the room.\n\n\"Angela,\" said her father, \"here is Herr Frank, to whom you are under\nobligations.\"\n\nShe moved a step or two toward Richard.\n\n\"Sir,\" said she gently, \"you returned some things that were valuable\nto me; were it not for your kindness, they would probably have been\nlost. I thank you.\"\n\nA formal bow was Frank's answer. Hamm stood smiling, his searching\nglance alternating between the stately young man and Angela. But in\nthe manner of both he observed nothing more than reserve and cold\nformality.\n\nAngela left the room. The assessor sat down on the sofa and poured\nout a glass of wine.\n\nEliza sat on her father's knee. Richard observed the beautiful child\nwith her fine features and golden silken locks that hung about her\ntender face. The winning expression of innocence and gentleness in\nher mild, childish eyes particularly struck him.\n\n\"A beautiful, lovely child,\" said he involuntarily, and as he looked\nin Siegwart's face he read there a deep love and a quiet, fatherly\nfondness for the child.\n\n\"Eliza is not always as lovely and good as she is now,\" he returned.\n\"She has still some little faults which she must get rid of.\"\n\n\"Yes, that's what Angela said,\" chattered the little one. \"Angela\nsaid I must be very good; I must love to pray; I must obey my father\nand mother; then the angels who are in heaven will love me.\"\n\n\"Can you pray yet, my child,\" said Richard.\n\n\"Yes, I can say the 'Our Father' and the 'Hail Mary.' Angela is\nteaching me many nice prayers.\"\n\nShe looked at the stranger a moment and said with childish simplicity,\n\n\"Can you pray too?\"\n\n\"Certainly, my child,\" answered Frank, smiling; \"but I doubt whether\nmy prayers are as pleasing to God as yours.\"\n\n\"Angela also said we should not lie,\" continued Eliza. \"The good God\ndoes not love children who lie.\"\n\n\"That is true,\" said Frank. \"Obey your sister Angela.\"\n\nHere the young man was affected by a peculiar emotion. He thought of\nAngela as the first instructor of the child; placed near this little\ninnocent, she appeared like its guardian angel. He saw clearly at\nthis moment the great importance of first impressions on the young,\nand thought that in after life they would not be obliterated. He\nexpressed his thoughts, and Siegwart confirmed them.\n\n\"I am of your opinion, Herr Frank. The most enduring impressions\nare made in early childhood. The germ of good must be implanted in\nthe tender and susceptible heart of the child and there developed.\nMany, indeed most parents overlook this important principle of\neducation. This is a great and pernicious error. Man is born with\nbad propensities; they grow with his growth and increase with his\nstrength. In early childhood, they manifest themselves in obstinacy,\nwilfulness, excessive love of play, disobedience, and a disposition\nto lie. If these outgrowths are plucked up and removed in childhood\nby careful, religious training, it will be much easier to form the\nheart to habits of virtue than in after years. Many parents begin to\ninstruct their children after they have spoiled them. Is this not\nyour opinion, Herr Assessor?\"\n\nHamm was aroused by this sudden question. He had not paid any\nattention to the conversation, but had been uninterruptedly stroking\nhis moustache and gazing abstractedly into vacancy.\n\n\"What did you ask, my dear Siegwart? Whether I am of your opinion?\nCertainly, certainly, entirely of your opinion. Your views are always\nsound, practical, and matured by great experience, as in this case.\"\n\n\"Well, I can't say you were always of my opinion,\" said Siegwart\nsmiling; \"have we not just been sharply disputing about the\nPeter-pence?\"\n\n\"O my dear friend! as a private individual I agree with you entirely\non these questions; but an official must frequently defend in a\nsystem of government that which he privately condemns.\"\n\nFrank perceived Hamm's object. He wished to do away with the\nunfavorable impressions his former expressions might have made on\nthe proprietor. The reason of this was clear to him since he had\ndiscovered the assessor's passion for Angela.\n\n\"I am rejoiced,\" said Siegwart, \"that we agree at least in that most\nimportant matter, religion.\"\n\nFrank remembered his father's remark, \"The Siegwart family is\nintensely clerical and ultramontane.\" It was new and striking to\nhim to see the question of religion considered the most important.\nHe concluded from this, and was confirmed in his conclusions by the\nleading spirit of the Siegwart family, that, in direct contradiction\nto modern ideas, religion is the highest good.\n\n\"Nevertheless,\" said Siegwart, \"I object to a system of government\nthat is inimical to the church.\"\n\n\"And so do I,\" sighed the assessor.\n\nRichard took his departure. At home, he wrote a few hasty lines in\nhis diary and then went into the most retired part of the garden.\nHere he sat in deep thought till the servant called him to dinner.\n\n\"Has Klingenberg not gone out yet to-day?\"\n\n\"No, but he has been walking up and down his room for the last two\nhours.\"\n\nFrank smiled. He guessed the meaning of this walk, and as they both\nentered the dining-room together his conjecture was confirmed.\n\nThe doctor entered somewhat abruptly and did not seem to observe\nRichard's presence. His eyes had a penetrating, almost fierce\nexpression and his brows were knit. He sat down to the table\nmechanically, and ate what was placed before him. It is questionable\nwhether he knew what he was eating, or even that he was eating. He\ndid not speak a word, and Frank, who knew his peculiarities, did not\ndisturb him by a single syllable. This was not difficult, as he was\nbusily occupied with his own thoughts.\n\nAfter the meal was over, Klingenberg came to himself. \"My dear\nRichard, I beg your pardon,\" said he in a tone of voice which was\nalmost tender. \"Excuse my weakness. I have read this morning a\nscientific article that upsets all my previous theories on the\nsubject treated of. In the whole field of human investigation there\nis nothing whatever certain, nothing firmly established. What one\nto-day proves by strict logic to be true, to-morrow another by still\nstronger logic proves to be false. From the time of Aristotle to the\npresent, philosophers have disagreed, and the infallible philosopher\nwill certainly never be born. It is the same in all branches. I would\nnot be the least astonished if Galileo's system would be proved to\nbe false. If the instruments, the means of acquiring astronomical\nknowledge, continue to improve, we may live to learn that the earth\nstands still and that the sun goes waltzing around our little planet.\nThis uncertainty is very discouraging to the human mind. We might\nsay with Faust,\n\n    'It will my heart consume\n    That we can nothing know.'\"\n\n\"In my humble opinion,\" said Frank, \"every investigator moves in a\nlimited circle. The most profound thinker does not go beyond these\nset limits; and if he would boldly over-step them, he would be thrown\nback by evident contradiction into that circle which Omnipotence has\ndrawn around the human intellect.\"\n\n\"Very reasonable, Richard; very reasonable. But the desire of\nknowledge must sometimes be satiated,\" continued the doctor after\na short pause. \"If the human mind were free from the narrow limits\nof the deceptive world of sense, and could see and know with pure\nspiritual eyes, the barriers of which you speak would fall. Even the\nBible assures us of this. St. Paul, writing to the Corinthians, says,\n'We see now through a glass in an obscure manner, but then face to\nface; now I know in part, but then I shall know as I am known.' I\nwould admire St. Paul on account of this passage alone if he never\nhad written another. How awful is the moral quality of the human soul\ntaken in connection with its future capacity for knowledge. And how\nnatural, how evident, is the connection. The human mind will receive\nknowledge from the source of all knowledge--God, in proportion as it\nhas been just and good. For this reason our Redeemer calls the world\nof the damned 'outer darkness,' and the world of the blessed, the\n'kingdom of light.'\"\n\n\"We sometimes see in that way even now,\" said Frank after a pause.\n\"The wicked have ideas very different from those of the good. A\nfrivolous spirit mocks at and derides that which fills the good with\nhappiness and contentment. We might, then, say that even in this life\nman knows as he is known.\"\n\nThe doctor cast an admiring glance at the young man. \"We entirely\nagree, my young friend; wickedness is to the sciences what a\npoisonous miasma and the burning rays of the sun are to the young\nplants. Yes, vice begets atheism, materialism, and every other\nabortion of thought.\"\n\nKlingenberg arose.\n\n\"We will meet again at three,\" said he with a friendly nod.\n\nRichard took from his room _Vogt's Physiological Letters_, went into\nthe garden, and buried himself in its contents.\n\n    TO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\n\n\nMORALITY OF THE CITY OF ROME.[18]\n\n\nWe promised in our last number to pay our respects to an infamous\ncalumny about Rome, the capital of the Christian Church, and seat of\nthe Sovereign Pontiffs, Vicars of our Lord Jesus Christ upon earth.\n\nThis calumny has been extensively circulated. We have found it in\neach one of the works at the head of this article, and we suppose\nit has been repeated in many others which have not fallen under\nour observation; for our \"evangelical\" journals, as they style\nthemselves, and a large portion of the secular press, seem to\nhave very loose notions of morality where the Catholic Church is\nconcerned. Every story to her disadvantage will be sure to please\ntheir public, or to supply the want of argument, and therefore it\nis seized upon with eagerness and repeated over the length and\nbreadth of the land. It matters little to them whether it be true or\nnot, so long as it answers the purpose. It is enough for them that\nsomebody or other has started it, without inquiring who it was, or\nwhether he had any right to make such a statement. It is also quite\nimmaterial how improbable the story may be, or what contradictions\nit may involve, or out of what ingenious inferences, by putting this\nand that together, it may be constructed; it suffices that it be\nsomething injurious to the Catholic religion, and at once the end\nsanctifies the means; and God, they seem to think, will easily wink\nat any breach of the commandment, \"Thou shalt not bear false witness\nagainst thy neighbor,\" when that neighbor is only a papist. Besides,\nthe appetite of the public for this sort of thing seems to be so\ninsatiable that they are deemed ready to swallow any thing, however\nit may outrage common sense or probability; and therefore they do not\nfear any loss of reputation if they are detected in the circulation\nof the falsehood. Corporations are said to have no souls, and the\nreverend editor of a religious periodical easily seems to absolve\nhimself from any obligation which Christian charity or even decency\nwould seem to impose upon him, in regard to the papist, whom he\nreadily classes with the infidel or the pagan.\n\nThe calumny we are about to refute furnishes us with an apt\nillustration of these remarks. It wears on its face an air of extreme\nimprobability. It is to this effect: that in Rome nearly three\nfourths of all the children born are illegitimate.\n\nThis is simply incredible. When we read of half the children in\nStockholm, in Protestant Sweden, or in Vienna, in Catholic Austria,\nbeing illegitimate, we can scarcely believe the naked statement.\nWithout disputing the official figures, we look to see if there is\nno way of explaining this anomalous state of things--if the reality\ncorresponds with the appearance. The large excess in the number of\nbirths in proportion to the population, and the existence of a large\nfoundling hospital, as in Vienna, used by the poorer inhabitants of\nthe country around even to a considerable distance, would lead us\nto a sounder conclusion in regard to its social state than the bare\ninspection of the figures. But the supposition that three fourths\nof all the children born in Rome or any other city, Protestant or\nCatholic, are illegitimate, is too exaggerated to be entertained for\na moment. It seems to find ready credence, however; probably through\nsome such mental process as this: \"Catholics are corrupt and vicious.\nRome is the chief of all Catholic cities, and therefore the most\ncorrupt and vicious of all, and no story of its corruption is too big\nfor belief. The more incredible for any other place, the more worthy\nof belief for Rome.\"\n\nBut let us come more to details about this statement in regard to\nRome. We quote from Mr. Seymour's book:\n\n     \"In the Italian statistics of Mittermaier we have the number of\n     exposed infants received in Il S. Spirito, Il Conservatorio, and\n     other establishments of this class. The number received during\n     a series of ten years amounts to 31,689. This total distributed\n     among the ten years gives as the mean, the number of 3160 infants\n     exposed annually in the city of Rome.\"\n\nHe goes on to say that according to Bowring, an agent of the British\ngovernment, the population of Rome was 153,678, and the total number\nof births was 4373. Hence we have,\n\n    Total number of births,             4373\n    Total number of foundlings,         3160\n\nAnd we are left to infer that there were only 1213 lawful children\nborn in Rome in that year.\n\nTo make a still closer deduction from his premises, we should take\nhis remark that the population of Rome should be taken at the mean of\n130,000, instead of 153,678. The mean number of births corresponding\nto this would be 3700; hence, in strictness, we should have,\n\n    Total number of births,              3700\n    Total number of foundlings,          3160\n                                         ----\n    Total number of lawful children,      540\n\nThis is indeed a state of things described by Mr. Seymour as\nindicating \"a frightful number of illegitimate births, and a number\nwithout parallel of cruel and unnatural mothers.\" And we may add, it\nindicates an unparalleled amount of gullibility in any one who will\nentertain for a moment such an absurd statement. It would be more\ncreditable to Rev. Mr. Seymour and his friend Rev. L. W. Bacon and\n_The New Englander_, before circulating the story, to inquire who\nMittermaier is; whether he has said exactly what he is quoted to say;\nwhether he was misled about his statements; whether some one else has\nnot altered what he said; whether some word has not been used in a\ndouble sense, to carry a wrong impression, or some word slipped into\nthe general statement to put the reader on the wrong track; in short,\nto pay great attention and be extremely cautious in a matter which\nwears so great an improbability on its face.\n\nThe story is an absurd fabrication, and very clumsily put together\nat that. \"The number of exposed infants in Il S. Spirito, Il\nConservatorio, and other establishments of this class, according\nto Mittermaier, amounts to 31,689 in ten years.\" Mittermaier, or\nwhoever else wrote this, proves conclusively that he knew very\nlittle of what he was writing about. There is no such establishment\nas Il Conservatorio in Rome. This is not the name of a particular\nplace, but a general term signifying about what we mean by the term\n\"asylum.\" There are more than a dozen asylums for children in Rome,\nbut only one is a foundling hospital, that of Il S. Spirito. The\nconservatorios or asylums are not \"of this class,\" but of a different\nclass altogether. There may have been 3160 children provided for,\nannually, in Il S. Spirito and all the different establishments for\nchildren, for what we know, and we see no reason to dispute the\nstatement; but this is the aggregate of children of all ages and\nall sorts, of the sick and destitute, and by no means the number of\nfoundlings received, or even the number of orphans received within a\nsingle year.\n\nThere are over 400 children in one orphan asylum in Fiftieth street\nin this city, and the aggregate for ten years would be over 4000, but\nto say that over 4000 children were _received_ there in ten years\nwould be an outrageous statement. To obtain the real number, we\nshould also ascertain the average number of years each child remains\nin the institution.\n\nThe hospital of Il S. Spirito is the only \"foundling hospital\" in\nRome. It receives all the infants brought there, and if the person\nwho brings them is unwilling to answer, he can refuse to do so. It is\namply sufficient to accommodate all left there; has revenue enough,\nand, in short, renders the existence of \"any other establishment\nof the sort\" entirely superfluous. There are branches of this\ninstitution to which \"foundlings\" are transferred as they grow older.\nThe institution looks out for them until they can look out for\nthemselves; but there is only one place where they are received.\n\nThe total number of foundlings received in Rome is about 900\nannually.[19] Maguire says:\n\n     \"The number of 900 may seem very great as representing the annual\n     average received; but it should be stated that the hospital\n     of Santo Spirito affords an asylum not only to the foundlings\n     of Rome, but to those of the provinces of Sabina, Frosinone,\n     Velletri, and the Comarca, and also districts on the borders of\n     Naples.\"\n\nThis number of foundlings does not represent the amount of\nillegitimacy, for very many of the foundlings are lawful children.\nMaguire says:\n\n     \"If it happen, as it often does with people in the humblest\n     condition of life, that their family exceed their means of\n     support, one of the children is committed to the wheel of the\n     foundling hospital of Santo Spirito--it might be, with some mark\n     on its dress by which its identity would be afterward proved and\n     it be reclaimed by its parents, a thing of no uncommon occurrence.\n     Another frequent cause of having recourse to this institution is\n     the delicacy of the mother, or of the child. The mother has no\n     nourishment to give the infant, and she bears it to the hospital\n     to be provided for. Or it is a rickety, miserable thing from\n     its birth, stunted, malformed, or so delicate that in the rude\n     hut of its parents it has no chance of ever doing well; then\n     too, in its case, the wheel of the hospital is a safe recourse,\n     and with parents of hard hearts takes the place of many an evil\n     suggestion, such as is often present in the homes and the breasts\n     of the destitute. Frequently the parent is known to argue that\n     the infirm or malformed child, who is thus got rid of, has the\n     best chance of recovery, and certainty of being provided for,\n     where eminent medical attendance is always to be had, and where\n     the greatest care is taken of the training and future interests\n     of the foundling. It may be said that this facility of getting\n     rid of legitimate offspring leads to a disregard of the manifest\n     obligations of a parent's duty; but to this fair objection I can\n     only offer a preponderating advantage, that it does away with\n     that awful proneness to infanticide which distinguishes other\n     countries, but pre-eminently England.\"\n\nThis estimate of Maguire's is confirmed by a statement taken from\nthe records of the hospital for May, June, and July, 1868, and\ntransmitted to us by an American clergyman residing in Rome. Of the\ntotal number, some were of legitimate births, as shown by authentic\nparish certificates; others of doubtful or uncertain birth; as\nfollows:\n\n    Foundlings   Of legitimate  Uncertain.\n    received.    birth.\n\n    In May,           38            46\n    In June,          25            51\n    In July,          29            49\n                      --           ---\n                      92           146\n\nThis would give us an aggregate of 952 for the year, of which 584\nwould be of uncertain birth. A large proportion came from the\nprovinces around Rome, and there is no reason to suppose all the\nuncertain births to be illegitimate; therefore we shall make a\nliberal allowance if we take the total number of foundlings of\nillegitimate birth, belonging to Rome itself, at 400. The real number\nis quite as likely to be below as above it.\n\nWhen Mittermaier, whoever he was, stated the annual number of\nfoundlings in Rome to be 3160, the mean population of that city was\nstated to be 130,000. It is now 215,573. By Mittermaier's proportion\nthe annual number of foundlings should now be 5226. Are we called\non to believe this, and to hang our heads in shame at this enormous\nnumber of 5226 illegitimates each year in the capital of the Catholic\nworld? And this, when we know that the actual number of foundlings\nfrom Rome is not over 900, and the actual number of illegitimate\nchildren is about 400.\n\nA small discrepancy, no doubt; a little peccadillo in the figures!\nWe hope we have not shown any undue warmth in exposing it; for who\nknows, our \"evangelic\" friends may feel themselves insulted, and\nentirely absolved from any obligation of refuting us; our unchristian\nwarmth of temper and vituperative manner being enough--to use the\nexpression of Rev. L. W. Bacon, in _The New Englander_--\"to discredit\nwithout any particular refutation\" whatever we assert in this\narticle.\n\nBut whence come the three thousand one hundred and sixty foundlings\nof \"Mittermaier\" annually received in Rome? Without doubt, from\nadding up all the inmates of the different asylums for children in\nRome, and the foundlings of S. Spirito, and representing the total as\nan aggregate of _foundlings received_.\n\n\"Il Conservatorio and other establishments of this class\" in Rome are\nas follows:\n\nAsylums for children of all ages, with schools attached:\n\n    S. Maria, in Aguiro,       50\n    S. Michael,               200     boys.\n    S. Michael,               240     girls.\n    Divine Providence,        100     girls.\n    S. Mary of Refuge,         50     girls.\n    S. Euphemia,               40     girls.\n    Tata Giovanni,       over 100     boys.\n    Quatro SS. Giovanni,       12     girls.\n    Zoccoletti,                60     girls.\n                            {number   boys\n    S. Maria del Angeli,    {  not     and\n                            {stated.  girls.\n    S. Caterina,                \"     girls.\n    Trinitarians,               \"     girls.\n    St. Pietro,                 \"     girls.\n    Il Borromeo,                \"     girls.\n    Mother of Sorrows,          \"     girls.\n\nThese are institutions of which Dr. Neligan, who visited them,\ngives an account in his _Rome_, published by Messrs. Sadlier; and\nto these must be added the department of S. Spirito, where female\nfoundlings, after being nursed, are received back--if not otherwise\nprovided for--and taken care of for life, or until they marry or\nget a situation; this numbers about six hundred, according to\nMaguire. If we add all the numbers together, and also the children\nunder the care of the foundling hospital out at nurse, or being\nbrought up in private families; in short, all the recipients of\ncharity of the different institutions of Rome, we might approach a\nnumber corresponding to the three thousand one hundred and sixty of\nMittermaier.\n\nWe can see by this \"how the noble and Christian charity of Rome,\nexcelling that of any other city of its size on the earth, is,\" by a\nbase and groundless falsehood, sought to be turned into a means of\nholding her up to the scorn and indignation of the whole world.\n\nWe can show, also, in an entirely different way, by the official\ncensus of Rome, the absurdity of the statement of Seymour, and that\nin the most conclusive manner. In the _Civilta Cattolica_ of 21st of\nDecember, 1867, we have the census of the population and the number\nof births for the year 1866; also a tabular statement of those for a\nperiod of ten years, ending 21st of April, 1867.\n\nFrom these we find the present population to be 215,573; the number\nof the legitimate births for the year from Easter, 1866, to Easter,\n1867, was 5739, and adding thereto the still-born, 6120. The average\nannual number of births in an average population of 197,737,\nexcluding the still-born, was 5657 legitimate, for the decennial\nperiod. Adding the still-born, we have an annual average of over 6000\nlegitimate births.\n\nNow, if we consider that in Rome there is a large class of the\npopulation who belong to the clergy, who do not marry; a large body\nof military; the Jews, whose children of course do not appear in any\nbaptismal register, from which the number of annual births is made\nout; we may set down the average productive part of the population,\ncorresponding to the population of any other city, at an average of\nnot more than 175,000. From this number, according to the general\nvital statistics of the civilized world, we must look for from 6300\nto 6400 annual births. Take from this the number of annual legitimate\nbirths stated above, and there remains no margin for any large\nnumber of illegitimate births. Any one can see that it is a moral\nimpossibility that they should exceed three or four hundred.\n\nThe same thing can be made out by means of the number of the married,\nwhich is accurately taken every year. In April, 1867, there were\n30,471 married women in Rome. Now, how many children could be\nexpected to be born annually from that number? We can approximate\nvery nearly to this by considering the census of the kingdom of\nItaly, as given in the _Civilta Cattolica_ of 20th of June, 1868.\nFrom this we find that for about 4,297,346 married women there were\nabout 900,000 births, which gives us one yearly for every five\nmarried women, very nearly. Applying this proportion to Rome, we\nshould have of 30,471 married women, 6094 births. The actual number,\nincluding still-born, was, as we have seen, 6120.\n\nThe _Civilta Cattolica_ says, \"This proportion of 28.3 of legitimate\nbirths for every one thousand of the population speaks very well\nfor a capital city.\" And so it does; it shows, what we have always\nunderstood them to be, that the Romans are as virtuous and moral as\nany people of the world.\n\nIn passing, we commend to the Rev. Mr. Bacon the figures of the\nofficial census of the kingdom of Italy, from which we find the\npercentage of illegitimacy for 1863 to have been 4.8; for 1864, 5. It\nis to be observed that there is somewhat of a deterioration in this\nlast year, perhaps owing to the success of the efforts of the Bible\nand tract societies to throw the pure light of \"gospel truth\" on this\nhitherto benighted land. The rate of illegitimacy in Scotland, which\nMr. Laing, in his _Notes of a Traveller_, calls the most religious\nProtestant country in Europe, is double that of Italy, the country\nmost thoroughly Catholic.\n\nAnd we ask, moreover, of Mr. Bacon, the direct question, What is the\nhonesty of representing the relative chastity of England and Italy as\n5 to 21, when the real proportions are 6.4 to 5? It may do very well\nto charge Brother Hatfield and Brother Prime, when you have your own\ngood name to vindicate against their charges, with gross unfairness\nin controversy; but we consider your adroit shirking of all the\nstatements of THE CATHOLIC WORLD, on the plea of an error found in\na quotation from _The Church and World_, as quite as dishonorable\nas any thing you have charged against them. Your persistence in\nrepeating calumnious statements, and spreading them out as you do\namong readers who will not see the refutation, will give you and your\nfriend, Mr. M. Hobart Seymour, an unenviable notoriety among the\nworst calumniators of the Catholic religion who have as yet appeared.\nYou have repeated, some time ago, that most infamous calumny of the\n_Tax-book of the Roman Chancery_, so amply refuted by Bishop England;\nbut although it has been called to your notice, you have never had\nthe grace to apologize. The old maxim seems to have been, \"Lie as\nhard as you can, and lay it on thick, for it will all be believed,\"\nand hence we had our Maria Monks and our Brownlees. Now the tactics\nare to be changed, and the maxim seems to be, \"Let there be some\nsemblance of truth mixed with the lie, so that it may sink deeper;\nlet the calumny be sugared over with professions of 'fair play,' and\nit will work with better effect;\" and hence come such things as the\n_Moral Results of Romanism_, by Messrs. Seymour and Bacon, the \"model\ncontroversialists.\"\n\nTo come back to Rome. The _Civilta Cattolica_ tells us that the\ncensus has been taken in the same way since the sixteenth century.\nThe total number of births, 4373, of Bowring, were then the total\nof legitimate births, not the absolute total. The number of 3160\n_foundlings received_ turns out to be the number of orphans--some of\nthem 80 years old, for all we know; for some are cared for as long as\nthey live--and other destitute or abandoned children. And thus this\nbeautiful piece of \"mosaic work,\" intended to exhibit the horrible\nvice of Rome to the gaze of an admiring and astonished public, falls\nto pieces. Instead of the anomalous state of things in which each\nmarried couple in Rome would have on an average one child in the\nspace of 25 years, they are found to be quite as prolific as other\npeople, and quite as virtuous. Rome, in respect to offences against\nchastity, is probably the most orderly and decent city of its size in\nthe world. Maguire says:[20]\n\n     \"The returns (criminal) embrace all kinds of crime.... And among\n     the rest they comprehend a class of offenders who, in some\n     countries--for instance, in France--are under the control as\n     well as sanctioned by the police authorities, and in others defy\n     almost all authority or restraint whatsoever. I allude to women\n     of depraved character, not one of whom is to be met with in the\n     streets of Rome, which may accordingly be traversed with impunity\n     at any hour of the evening or night by a modest female without the\n     risk of having her eyes and ears offended, as they are in too many\n     cities of our highly civilized empire. Offenders of this class\n     are at once made amenable to the law, and committed either to the\n     Termini, or to the institution of the Good Shepherd, where the\n     most effectual means of reformation are adopted, and in very many\n     instances with success--both institutions being specially under\n     the care and control of religious communities.\"\n\nIt is the fashion to decry Rome--to represent her population as cowed\ndown and discontented with their government; to this the reception\nwhich Garibaldi with his war-cry of \"Rome or death\"--though he lived\nto see another day, after all--met with from the Roman people, is a\nsufficient reply: or to say that they are miserably poor or degraded;\nto this, Count de Reyneval, in his report to the French minister for\nforeign affairs, says:\n\n     \"The condition of the population is one of comparative ease.... An\n     appearance of prosperity strikes the eyes of the least observant.\n     Gaiety of the most expansive kind is to be traced in the faces of\n     all. It may be asked whether this can be the people whose miseries\n     excite to such a degree the commiseration of Europe?\"[21]\n\nRome, then, with a garrison of over 7000 soldiers, and with an\nimmense influx of visitors from all parts of the world, and\nparticularly of wealthy pleasure-seekers from England and America;\nwith a stern suppression of prostitution and public vice, still shows\na rate of illegitimacy less than six per cent; a rate lower than that\nof England, or any Protestant country which has published statistics\non the subject.\n\nWe have thus given this matter as thorough and complete an\ninvestigation as has been possible under the circumstances. We have\ngiven the reasons for all we have stated, and the reader can see for\nhimself the force of our arguments. We neither desire to misrepresent\nnor to be misrepresented; and we would not make one misstatement to\nthe disadvantage of any one, be he Protestant or any thing else; or\nconceal any thing which has a bearing on the question, even if it\nshould put our side of it in an unfavorable light. If we have done\nany of these things, it is unconsciously to ourselves; and therefore\nwe feel, perhaps too warmly and indignantly, this trickery, when it\nis attempted to make us the victims of it.\n\nFrom our previous experience, we look for a more active circulation\nof this calumny, from our refutation of it; but we console ourselves\nwith the reflection that there is a God in heaven who watches over\nall, and who will make the truth apparent in due time. At any rate,\nno such consideration shall hinder us a moment from exposing error\nand deception, so far as our occupations and duties shall afford us\nthe leisure to do so.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[18] _Evenings with the Romanists._ Rev. M. Hobart Seymour. Carter &\nBrothers. New York.\n\n_New Englander._ July, 1869. New Haven.\n\n_American Churchman._ Chicago.\n\n_Is Romanism the best Religion for the Republic?_ Pamphlet. Pott &\nAmery. New York.\n\n_Good News._ October, 1868. P. S. Wynkoop & Son. New York.\n\n_Fair Play on Both Sides._ Pamphlet. New Haven. Rev. L. W. Bacon.\n\n_Watchman and Reflector._ Boston, August 12.\n\n_London Examiner._\n\n[19] _Rome._ By John Francis Maguire, M.P.; p. 169.\n\n[20] _Rome_, p. 458.\n\n[21] Maguire's _Rome_, p. 444.\n\n\n\n\nST. OREN'S PRIORY;\n\nOR, EXTRACTS FROM THE NOTE-BOOK OF AN AMERICAN IN A FRENCH MONASTERY.\n\n\"Pour chercher mieux.\"--_Device of Queen Christina of Sweden._\n\n\nPART II.\n\nI entered the novitiate on the 22d. The _Veni sponsa Christi, accipe\ncoronam quam tibi Dominus pr\u00e6paravit in \u00e6ternum_ has been sounding\nin my heart ever since like a war-cry, animating me to the interior\ncombat. For the cloister is that oasis in the great desert of the\nworld where is carried on a vital combat between nature and grace,\nmore furious than that between Christian and Paynim in the Diamond\nof the desert. I have been much happier since I entered upon my new\nlife, and am glad I can go out no more. I love the solitude\n\nand calmness of the cloister, which at last extends to the heart; I\nlove the shrines \"where their vigils pale-eyed virgins keep;\" I love\nthe companionship of those who seem unsullied by earthly passions;\nand I love this release from all earthly care, with no thought for\nwhat we shall eat, or what we shall drink, or wherewithal we shall be\nclothed. Is it not better than the bustle and vanity of the world,\nwhich almost efface the thought of God?\n\nAnd then, you know, I have always believed that there are some\nwho are called to perpetuate the glorious fellowship of Christ's\nsufferings; to share, as members of his body, the pains and sorrows\nof the great Head of the church; and to make reparation to heaven\nfor the constant outrages against the Divine Majesty. As Faber says,\n\"Nuns are the turtle-doves of the church, who have to mourn in a\nspirit of loving sorrow and sweet reparation over the wrongs of their\nheavenly Spouse.\"\n\nThe heart of St. Augustine was so full of the love of God and the\nsense of what is his due, that he is always represented holding it\nall aflame in his hands. Old legends tell us how an angel bore it\naway to a sanctuary, where it will still tremble in its crystal\ncase if an unbeliever enters the church where it is exposed. So\ntremulously alive to the honor and glory of God should be the hearts\nthat are gathered together in the cloister. How many souls fly\nthither to make up, as it were, to God what is wanting on the part of\ntheir sinful brethren! _Apropos_, I must tell you about one of our\nnuns, who is full of holy fervor. In the late retreat, the director\nasked her the subject of her particular examen. \"Self-abnegation,\"\nwas the reply. \"Do you find many occasions for practising it?\"\ninquired the _p\u00e8re_. \"Not as many as I could wish.\" \"What is the\nvirtue which you particularly ask of our Lord in your devotions, and\nby the actions of each day?\" \"I ask for no virtue, _mon p\u00e8re_.\" \"With\nwhat intention, then, do you offer them?\" \"For the conversion of\nsinners, and the greater glory of God.\"\n\nIs not this admirable? I am sure many Protestants could hardly\ncomprehend a piety so disinterested as to lose sight, in a measure,\nof one's own profit in zeal for God's cause.\n\nThe facilities are also great in the cloister for the frequent\nreception of the sacraments, which quicken the moral circulation.\nThe pulsations of the soul are more healthful after the infusion of\ndivine grace through them. I went to holy communion this morning. The\nDivine Host seemed to me a burning coal from off the altar of God,\nand the priest, the angel who placed it on my lips. \"Our God is a\nconsuming fire.\" I prayed that he might consume every affection in\nmy heart that was not centred in him; and, as I felt the torrent of\ndivine flame circulating in my veins, every earthly desire, every\nhuman passion, seemed to die away within me. For a moment, at least,\nI felt the signification of the words of the great apostle of the\nGentiles, \"It is no longer I who live, but Christ who liveth in me.\"\nMight such moments be perpetuated! But it is of faith that those who\nhave partaken of Christ's body and blood remain in him, and he in\nthem, as long as they are in a state of grace. It is this interior\npresence of the divinity which animated the saints to the sacrifice,\nand made even this world, amid all their privations and austerities,\na very foretaste of heaven. What sweet solemnity and thoughtfulness\nreign in the heart sensible of this divine presence! In its light the\nsoul,\n\n    \"Like the stained web that whitens in the sun,\n    Grows pure by being purely shone upon.\"\n\nAs you say, a great deal does depend upon the influences that\nsurround us, especially with weak souls like me. I envy those men\nwho are as gods, in spite of temperament, or clime, or any outward\ninfluence; who go on unchecked from one degree of glory to another,\nto the very heights of sanctity. I am always drifting along, awaiting\nthe impulse of the sacraments, or the helping hand of some stronger\nfriend, too glad if I do not recede. Ah! solitude brings us face\nto face with ourselves, and reveals to us our _moral littleness_!\nNothing is more humbling than this revelation. Nothing makes us more\ndistrustful of ourselves, and more willing to accept the appointed\nmeans of perfection. The life our director thinks the safest is a\ncommon life, lived in an _uncommon_ manner; that is, while we do the\nsame things as those around us, it is with motives so holy that each\naction is rendered in a degree supernatural. This is the great secret\nof the hidden and interior life, which the saints of all ages have\nloved and of which St. Joseph is the type.\n\nI have been reading _Fioretti; or, the Little Flowers of St. Francis\nd'Assisi_--a collection of the sayings of the first Franciscans,\nwith a rare bloom on them. These medi\u00e6val flowers, so long shut\nup in a foreign tongue, have a delicious fragrance, and while I\ninhaled their odor I forgot that I belonged to an incredulous age.\nThere is a simplicity truly poetical in this collection, which is\nadmirable. One little remark of Friar Egide struck me: \"_La voie la\nplus directe pour nous sauver, c'est de nous perdre._\" This loss,\nthis annihilation of self, on the ruins of which must be built up the\ngreat edifice of our perfection, is what I daily sigh after, and\nwhat I ask for you. The P\u00e8re Milley, a Jesuit, speaks much of \"_le\npays des \u00e2mes perdues_\"--a country to which all my desires tend.\nIt is a promised land which I see afar off; another Canaan, which\nI hardly dare hope to enter, though I look wistfully on those who\nare lost in God--that ocean without limit, where our littleness is\nswallowed up in immensity, and we almost forget our fears and our\nfrailties; we know not whether we suffer or are consoled; conscious\nonly of the divine atmosphere--conscious only that we love!...\n\nOur novitiate is a large apartment with five immense windows in it.\n(When you are taxed for windows, you may as well have large ones,\nand the French love the air and live in it.) No matter how cold it\nis, the windows are always open--and when I say _open_, I mean the\n_whole_ window; for, as I have already remarked, they swing open\nlike folding doors. On cold days a few _mottes_ are burning in the\nfireplace, around which a folding screen is drawn. These mottes are\nmostly of tan, pressed into flat round cakes like a small cheese.\nThey give out strong heat. Wood is very scarce here, and consequently\ndear, and I have never seen coal. As for lights, we burn linseed-oil,\nwhich gives a clear yellow light, and the odor is not offensive like\nwhale-oil. Each sister has a little coil of yellow wax-taper to light\nwhen she wishes to go about the monastery in the evening.\n\nThe floor is paved with square red tiles, as in all the houses here,\nbut we have little mats to protect our feet from the chill. Each\nnovice has her table and writing-desk, at which she studies or sews.\nAt one end of the room is an altar, and the walls are adorned with\nengravings of a religious character. Leading from the novitiate\nis the _chambrette_ of the mistress of novices, in which is the\nnovices' library. It is always open to us, and we like an excuse for\nentering it.\n\nOur manner of spending the day is nearly unvaried. We rise at\nhalf-past four, and, after completing our toilettes, (for even nuns\nhave toilettes; one's garments must be put together somehow,) we\ndescend to the chapel. The choir is impenetrably dark most of the\nyear at this early hour. Only the little lamp is twinkling near the\ntabernacle! One by one the nuns come noiselessly in, like so many\nshadows. This hour of morning meditation is delicious. The perfect\nstillness, in which you can hear your own heart beat, disposes you to\nreflection. The soul becomes steeped in the spirit of the place and\nthe hour passes too quickly away. Then we say the hours. The morning\nsacrifice follows with its awful mysteries, which are ever fresh and\nwonderful.\n\nWhen we issue from the chapel, after our exercises of more than two\nhours, we go one by one, when we choose, to the refectory, for there\nis no breakfast, properly speaking. The nuns take a piece of dry\nbread, with perchance some fruit, and eat it, as the children of\nIsrael ate the passover, standing and ready girded for the labors of\nthe day, for which we are all ready at eight. That would be called\na fast in America. But when a sister is delicate, she can have some\ncoffee or chocolate. The world used to cry out against the good\nliving of monastic orders; now it says their austerities are fatal to\nthe health. It is always the way with the world--now, as in the days\nwhen John the Baptist came \"neither eating nor drinking.\"\n\nThe French know nothing of the cup that cheers but does not\ninebriate. They only take tea medicinally, and seem to have no idea\nof how it should be prepared. It is a prevalent belief here that\nevery Englishman in his travels carries his tea-kettle with him, and\nthey suppose the whole race partial to the beverage. So, by way of a\n_f\u00eate_, they proposed regaling me with some the other day. I accepted\nwhat was no luxury to me. A good sister brought me what she styled\n_soupe au th\u00e9_, consisting of an abundance of milk and water, with\na dash of tea. (I rely on the veracity of the _cuisini\u00e8re_ for this\nlast item.) Into this, bread was sliced, and the whole served up in\na soup-plate! Confucius himself would have laughed. I am sure I did\ntill I cried, to the great scandal of all the nuns, who were gravely\nlistening to some holy legend as they ate. Shall I tell you what I\ndid with my _soupe au th\u00e9_? I hope I am not vain of the heroic act,\nbut I--ate it!\n\nFifteen minutes before dinner we have examination of conscience.\nWe go to the table saying, \"_De profundis clamavi_\" and leave it\nreciting, \"_Miserere Domine!_\" We eat in silence, listening to the\ngospel of the day, the lives of the saints, or some other religious\nbook, read by one of the sisters from a high pulpit. After dinner is\na reunion, when we come together with our sewing or other handiwork,\nand have the privilege of talking, and sometimes we make _la cour\ndu roi P\u00e9taud_, I assure you. At one o'clock the lay sisters come\nin, while we read aloud for half an hour, if no chapter has been\nconvoked. They too bring their work. One old sister always brings\nher spindle and distaff, and twirls away, sitting bolt upright,\nand looking so grim that she always seems to me one of the Fates\nlengthening out the thread of life. At three we have vespers, and\nthen make half an hour's meditation. From compline we go to supper\nat six, after which we walk in the garden or assemble together\nwithin doors. At eight o'clock is read the subject for the next\nmorning's meditation, and we go to the choir to say the office, and\nfor night prayers. Thus closes the day with prayer, as it began. We\nall light our little tapers and go silently to our cells for the\nnight. Such is the outline of our life, which is so well filled up\nthat we have few leisure moments. We hear of lazy monks and nuns,\nbut there are no drones in our busy hive, with our boarding-school,\nday and free schools, with their hundreds of pupils, and this vast\nbuilding to keep in order. Night comes before we know it, and another\nday is gone. There is one day less in which to struggle with self,\nand, alas! one day less in which to sacrifice something for God! You\nask for the shadow in the picture of my life. There is ever one dark\nspot in our existence, the shadow of ourselves, which follows us\nwherever we go.\n\nBut we have one grievance just now. _Finisterre_ is the name of the\nportal that separates us from the world, but it cannot wholly exclude\nits sounds. I will explain. The city rises so abruptly behind our\nmonastery that the garden of the Count de T----, on the opposite side\nof the street, is on a level with our second story. And the street\nthat separates us is one of those dim, narrow streets found only in\nold cities of the south, where it is desirable to exclude the heat.\nFor several nights past when we have come from our dear quiet chapel,\nwith our hearts all subdued and thoughtful, and pondering on the\nsubject for the next morning's meditation, a \"_toot, tooting_,\" is\nheard from the garden opposite that is enough to distract a saint.\nIt is a French horn, or some other wind instrument, surely meant for\nsome vast campagna. But, essayed in a small garden, with a hill in\nthe rear to aid the reverberation, the whole volume of sound comes\npouring across the corridor into our cells, the very embodiment of\nworldly discord and tumult. \"_Pazienza!_\" we say to ourselves, and\ntry to turn a deaf ear. I dare say the performer has some idea of\nenlivening the poor recluses, who have no other wish but to be left\nto their own reveries, save that the time of the vintage may soon\ncome when he can awaken the echoes of the vineyard.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIt is the festival of the Assumption. While I write, all the bells of\nthe city are ringing, statues and banners of Mary are borne through\nthe streets by the clergy, followed by a long procession of people.\nThe deep-toned \"_ora pro nobis_\" breaks in upon the stilly air.\nEach invocation seems like a cry of agony, which goes heavenward\nfrom hearts weary of the world and the things of the world. These\nprocessions are made throughout France in memory of the celebrated\nvow of Louis XIII., who consecrated France to the Virgin. It is also\na national holiday in honor of Napoleon I., being his birthday. \"St.\nNapoleon's Day,\" say the people with a smile!\n\nI saw a pretty picture last evening--Sister Rose standing on a stool\nnear the fountain of the court, surrounded by a group of gay young\nladies, to whom she was preaching. She looked like a statue of St.\nAng\u00e8le. Sister Rose is a lay sister, wholly uneducated, but with\na certain piety of a mystical nature which has given her quite a\nreputation for sanctity. She has an oval face of pale olive hue, jet\nblack eyes with an indrawn look as if conscious of some interior\nPresence, and regular features, with a delicacy and refinement quite\nremarkable considering her laborious life. She never meets you\nwithout a smile and a \"word for Jesus,\" as she says. The young ladies\nof the boarding-school love and revere her so much that they often\nlay violent hands upon her and force her to preach to them, which\nshe does with a smile and the same inward look, and with a grace of\ngesture peculiar to her country. As her discourse was in _patois_,\n(one of the _langues d'Oc_, and the tongue of Jasmin, who lives at\nAgen,) which all understand here, I was not benefited thereby; but\nher appearance and her saintly face, with its gentle, serious smile,\nwere impressive. The exuberance of her audience was soon subdued.\n\nThere are a good many Spaniards in this city who are exiled on\naccount of their political opinions, being Carlists. They had a\nsolemn mass of requiem chanted in our chapel, the other day, for the\nrepose of the soul of Don Carlos. Nearly thirty Spanish gentlemen\nand some ladies were present. A bier was placed in the centre of\nthe chapel and surrounded by lights, as if the body were there, and\non the pall was placed a wreath of laurel. The officiating priest,\ntoo, was a Spaniard. I looked with interest on these exiles from\ntheir native land, and my heart grew warm toward them; they were\nextremely devout during mass, and I saw many of them wipe away their\nfast-falling tears. I could not repress my own; for separation from\nthe fatherland seemed a bond of sympathy I could not resist. Thus,\nwhen I am gone, and my remains lie in a foreign land, may some kind\nsouls gather together in the sanctuary of God to chant the _Requiem\n\u00e6ternam_ for my tried soul!\n\nOnce a month we meditate particularly on death, and offer all our\ndevotions as a preparation for our last end. When mass is over, and\nthe thanksgiving for our communion is ended--no, not ended, for it\ncan never end; but while it is still ascending from our hearts, our\ndear m\u00e8re, who is as pale as the wife of Seneca, goes forward and\nkneels before the grate that separates the choir from the chancel,\nand says in earnest tones the litany for a happy death. Her voice\ntrembles as she repeats the awful petition: \"When my eyes, obscured\nat the approach of death, cast their dying looks toward thee, O\nmerciful Jesus! and when my lips, cold and trembling, pronounce for\nthe last time on earth thy adorable name--\" \"Merciful Jesus, have\npity on me!\" sighs every heart in response. The impression of these\nprayers pursues the mind all day. \"Lord, in that strait, the Judge!\nremember me!\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nOn St. Andrew's day we buried one of the nuns, who was about ninety\nyears of age and quite superannuated. This death did not affect me\nso much as that of Sister Sophie. The transition from old age to\nthe grave seems so natural that it excites less horror than when\none dies in the full vigor of life. M\u00e8re Ste. Ursule was of a noble\nfamily of La Vend\u00e9e. At the age of sixteen she entered a community\nof Poor Clares, one of the most rigid orders of the church; but,\nduring her novitiate, the great French Revolution swept away nearly\nevery vestige of religion, and the nuns of St. Clare were driven out\nfrom their quiet cells into the world. When the _gendarmes_ forced\nthem to leave the convent, these emissaries desecrated every thing\nand broke and threw out the sacred emblems. As Sister Ursule, who\nhad a most tender devotion to her whom Ch\u00e2teaubriand styles \"the\ndivinity of the frail and the desolate,\" was leaving the cloister\nshe had loved so much, she turned to give it a last look, and saw a\nsmall statue of Notre Dame de Gr\u00e2ce standing on the convent wall.\nShe said to one of her sister nuns, \"It seems as if the Blessed\nVirgin reproaches me for leaving,\" and she turned back to save the\nstatue from insult. The _gendarmes_ did not oppose the design of the\nyoung novice, and this _bonne Vierge_ was for more than sixty years\nthe ornament and tutelary genius of the cell of M\u00e8re Ste. Ursule,\nafter her re-entrance into religion. With all the fervor of southern\ndevotion toward Mary, she used to prostrate herself daily before this\nstatuette, and when fallen into second childhood she would pour out\nher heart in effusions of child-like simplicity at once charming and\npoetic. She often said to her novices: \"When I am dying, place my\n_bonne Vierge_ on my bed beside me.\"\n\nAfter the Revolution, the more rigid orders were not restored, and\nM\u00e8re Ste. Ursule, despairing of the re-establishment of the Poor\nClares, joined the Ursulines, and was for a long time mistress of\nnovices at the priory. In her last days she did nothing but pray and\nadorn the altar in her cell. She knew the office by heart, and always\nrecited it at the canonical hours. Her beads were told many times\na day, and she never failed to use the discipline with severity. I\noften went to see her and her _bonne Vierge_. She died suddenly of\nold age. Being somewhat more feeble than usual, one of the sisters\nremained with her during the night. M\u00e8re Ste. Ursule said her office\nand rosary, but did not sleep. Toward day the sister perceived the\napproach of death; she took down the statue of Notre Dame de Gr\u00e2ce\nand laid it in the arms of the aged nun, whose spirit instantly fled\nto the presence of Mary in heaven. It was at the hour of dawn. The\nfirst beam of the dayspring from on high carried her soul away from\nearth.\n\nAgain those solemn funeral services! I cannot tell you the effect\nthey have on me.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nA friend sent me a curious pear to-day, said to be peculiar to this\ncity. It is called the _Bon Chr\u00e9tien_, but very different from the\none we called so at home. It is a large, coarse-grained pear, but\njuicy and toothsome, and has no seeds; that is, as every one says,\nthose that grow within the limits of the city have none, while those\nthat are found in the country are seedy enough. Old legends connect\nthis peculiarity with St. Oren's miraculous powers.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_December 8._--This is the festival of the Immaculate Conception, the\npatronal feast of the chapel of the priory. For nine days past the\nconvent bell has rung out a joyful peal at the hour of the novena to\nMaria Immaculata, when her litany was chanted to a beautiful Spanish\nair which completely melts the heart. Unusual pomp has been given\nto this _f\u00eate_ on account of the expected decision respecting the\ndogma of the Immaculate Conception at Rome. This morning we had more\nthan a dozen masses, for the clergy love to come to this antique\nchapel on the feasts of Mary. At ten o'clock, about twenty priests\ncame to sing high mass, and again this afternoon for vespers. The\nchapel was crowded with people from the city. Thus for centuries have\nthe faithful congregated on this same day. The Blessed Sacrament\nwas exposed all day. I passed hours in its presence, bearing in my\nheart all my innumerable wants, and those of my friends afar off.\nHow like heaven is our dear chapel when the Lamb of God is thus\nexposed to our adoration! In a niche over the altar gleams the\nholy image of Mary. The Divinity is enshrined in light beneath her\nmaternal eye, the air filled with incense, as if fanned by adoring\nangels. The arches are full of harmony. Every power of body and mind\nis captivated, and one abandons one's self to the impressions of\nthe moment. It gives one a peculiar emotion to hear men chant the\npraises of Mary. What a reverence they must have for womanhood! Their\n_Miserere nobis_ in the litany was the very cry of a contrite heart.\nI should have thought myself in paradise had not the supplicatory\ntones of the clergy announced a felicity still imperfect.\n\nAll this is infinitely beautiful and poetic, apart from every\nsentiment of religion. Every day of my life would seem to you a\nchapter full of poetry; but I have become so accustomed to what I\nonce thought belonged to a bygone age of mystery and romance, that\nit all seems the natural order of events. And one soon learns to\nrise above the mere ceremonials of religion, which are so full of\nenjoyment to some natures, to that which they typify. Such is the\ndesign of Holy Church--to lead the heart up to God, its true centre.\nPerhaps, too, she wishes that every power of our being should be\nenlisted in his service; the imagination as well as reason.\n\nAfter vespers we had a fine sermon from the Abb\u00e9 Lassale upon the\ninvocation: _Regina sine labe concepta, ora pro nobis!_ It is the\ncustom here now, as, from the sermons of Bossuet, we see it was in\nthe time of Louis XIV., for the preacher, after invoking the Holy\nSpirit, to present a plan of his discourse, make some introductory\nremarks, and then stop. Both preacher and audience kneel in silence\nfor the space of an Ave Maria, then all rise and the sermon is\ncontinued. The custom is quite impressive.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_December 15._--Owing to the antiquity of our chapel, long since\ndedicated to the mystery of the Immaculate Conception, the archbishop\npermitted us, as a particular favor, to celebrate the octave of this\ngreat festival of Mary with a sermon and benediction every evening.\nThe whole chapel was daily illuminated, and the effect was magical\nwhen it was lighted up. Imagine arches of light, pillars wreathed\nin flame, altar covered with flowers and brilliant with immense wax\ncandles; while in the midst gleamed the Virgin in a perfect bower\nof pure white lilies. And, just as the imagination is fired with\nso much brilliancy and taste, _Kyrie eleison!_ floats up with the\nincense in the most plaintive, heart-rending tones--a very tear of\nthe heart dropped at the feet of Mary! It is the commencement of\nthe litany of Maria Immaculata, chanted by the nuns in choir, and\nresponded to by the crowds that fill the chapel without. Light and\nmusic are the two ideas of which Dante's Paradise is composed; and\nI felt with what true poetic instinct, when kneeling before that\nshrine of light, my ears listened to harmonies approaching those that\nswell for ever before the throne of God! This struck me from the\nfirst; and I have since found my thoughts expressed by another far\nbetter than I could express them. Leigh Hunt says: \"It is impossible\nto see this profusion of lights, especially when one knows their\nsymbolical meaning, without being struck with the source from which\nDante took his idea of the beatified spirits. His heaven, filled with\nlights, and lights, too, arranged in figures, which glow with lustre\nin proportion to the beatitude of the souls within them, is the\nsublimation of a Catholic church. And so far it is heavenly indeed;\nfor nothing escapes the look of materiality like fire. It is so airy,\njoyous, and divine a thing, when separated from the idea of pain and\nan ill purpose, that the language of happiness naturally adopts its\nterms, and can tell of nothing more rapturous than burning bosoms and\nsparkling eyes. The seraph of the Hebrew theology was a fire.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_Christmas._--Yesterday was spent in retreat, by way of preparing our\nhearts for the solemnities of the nativity; and I have kept a real\nold-fashioned vigil--a vigil of the middle ages. I wish you could\nhave heard the joyful ring of all the bells of the city as midnight\napproached. At the cathedral, the clear tones of the smaller bells,\nlike the voices of nuns in choir, and the great Bourdon among them,\n\"like the chanting of a friar,\" as Longfellow says; the _carillon_,\ntoo, from St. Pierre; and then all the convent bells sounding from\nCarmel, the Oratory, the Filles de Marie, and La Mis\u00e9ricorde, and\nthose of the Hospital, Le Grand S\u00e9minaire, etc., etc., are infinitely\nimpressive in the stillness of the night--the prelude of a great joy,\nbreaking in upon our meditation on the birth of Christ. When the\nbells were all hushed, the priest stood at the foot of the blazing\naltar; all the rest of the chapel was in darkness--not a taper in the\nchoir. There was not a sound but the night wind. The saints on the\nwalls, half revealed in their dim recesses, looked like the spirits\nof the old monks come forth at this mystic hour to guard the chapel\ntheir hands once raised.\n\nIt was the second time I ever communicated at midnight mass, and\nI imagined my heart the manger in which the Infant Jesus came\nto repose. I thought, as I returned from the holy table to my\n_prie-dieu_, of the first tears of the Divine Babe, and that he\nbewailed my continued imperfections. \"Ah! why should not thy tears,\"\nI exclaimed, \"wash away my sins, that thou be not forced to shed\nalso thy most precious blood! I, too, weep. I, who deserve to weep,\njoin my tears to thine. O Virgin Mother! take back thy child! His\npresence makes me an object of horror to myself. His tears scald my\nvery heart. His caresses are like arrows that pierce my soul. Thou\nalone canst console him; only clean hands and a pure heart should\nembrace spotless innocence. My spiritual vision is too weak to bear\nthe Orient from on high. Yes, Mary, thou alone canst console him; for\nthou art immaculate. Embrace him for me--those hands and feet which\nwill be pierced for me; and wipe away the tears that have commenced\nto flow but too soon.\"\n\n    \"Oh! blissful and calm was the wondrous rest\n    That thou gavest thy God in thy virginal breast.\n    For the heaven he left he found heaven in thee;\n    And he shone in thy shining, sweet Star of the sea!\"\n\nAfter hearing three masses, we went to visit the manger. A kind of\ntent had been erected in the upper choir. In it was a statue of St.\nJoseph, the Blessed Virgin, an ox, an ass, and in the centre on the\nstraw lay the new-born Infant with its little arms outstretched.\nAbove hovered the angels. Though rudely cast, their effect was good\nin the dim light. We knelt around, and the novices sang out joyfully\na Christmas carol, the chorus of which was \"_J\u00e9sus est n\u00e9!_\"--Christ\nis born! All this gave a certain vividness to the festival which it\nnever had before; and I enjoyed it much. True, our manger is too\nhomely to bear the criticisms of the scoffer. St. Joseph, for a\ncarpenter, is rather gaudily dressed out in a scarlet robe, purple\nmantle, ruffle-bosomed shirt, with a breast-pin; and the Virgin\nhardly does credit to her reputation for beauty and grace; but the\neye of faith looks beyond and reads only the lesson of child-like\nsimplicity and humility--nowhere so well learned as at Bethlehem.\n\n     \"I adore thee, O Infant Jesus! naked, weeping, and lying in the\n     manger. Thy childhood and poverty are become my delight. Oh! that\n     I could be thus poor, thus a child like thee. O eternal wisdom!\n     reduced to the condition of a little babe, take from me the vanity\n     and presumptuousness of human wisdom! Make me a child with thee.\n     Be silent, ye teachers and sages of the earth! I wish to know\n     nothing but to be resigned, to be willing to suffer, to lose\n     and forsake all, to be all faith! The Word made Flesh! now _is_\n     silent, now has an imperfect utterance, now weeps as a child! And\n     shall I set up for being wise? Shall I take a complacency in my\n     own schemes and systems? Shall I be afraid lest the world should\n     not have an opinion high enough of my capacity? No, no; all my\n     pleasure shall be to _decrease_--to become little and obscure, to\n     live in silence, to bear the reproach of Jesus crucified, and to\n     add thereto the helplessness and imperfect utterance of Jesus, a\n     child.\"[22]\n\nThe manger remains till Epiphany. It is gotten up by the scholars,\nwho delight in it, especially the younger ones, who go to present\nthe Infant Jesus with fruit, nuts, _bonbons_, money, and whatever\ntheir childish hearts suggest. These things are for the Holy Infant\nin the person of poor children among whom they are distributed, that\nthey too may have some pleasure at Christmas-tide. I find it a pretty\ncustom, as well as beneficial; for piety should not all evaporate in\nsentiment, but, even in children, ought to be embodied in some good\ndeed, or prompt to some act of self-denial. The children of France\ntake much pleasure in making little sacrifices of pocket-money (not\nin the spirit of Mrs. Pardiggle's unfortunate children!) for the\nassociation of the _Sainte Enfance_, the funds of which are destined\nto rescue hundreds of little children, who are exposed to death in\nChina by their parents, and even to buy those who are exposed for\nsale, that they may be reared as Christians. Last year, four hundred\nthousand children were thus baptized--an angelic work, worthy of\nyoung and pure hearts. Our scholars embroider collars and do a\nvariety of fancy work for a fair among themselves, by which they\namass quite a sum in the course of the year. The French children\nare exceedingly volatile, but there is a great deal of piety among\nthem. During Passion-time a little girl of nine or ten, belonging to\nthe poor scholars, undertook to meditate fifteen minutes a day, for\na certain number of days, on the sufferings of Christ. One of the\nnuns asked her how she employed the time, so long for a child. She\nreplied, _na\u00efvement_, \"I thought each thorn that pierced the head of\nChrist was one of my sins!\"\n\nAfter our nocturnal devotions, we novices returned to the novitiate,\nwhere the Yule log was blazing. By way of a rarity, we all had coffee\nto refresh us after our vigil, and we sat around the fire chatting in\na home-like manner, and repeating Christmas carols.\n\n        \"He neither shall be born\n        In housen nor in hall,\n    Nor in the place of Paradise,\n        But in an ox's stall;\n        He neither shall be rocked\n        In silver nor in gold,\n    But in a wooden cradle\n        That rocks upon the mould.\"\n\nIn the country, on Christmas eve, the young peasants go about from\nhouse to house, singing Christmas carols, expecting some treat in\nreturn.\n\nI saw to-day a little picture of the Child Jesus making crosses in\nthe work-shop of his foster-father. Perhaps it was one of these that\nthe poets tell us the little St. John contended for:\n\n    \"Give me the cross, I pray you, dearest Jesus!\n    Oh! if you knew how much I wish to have it,\n    You would not hold it in your hand so tightly.\n    Something has told me, something in my breast here,\n    Which I am sure is true, that if you keep it,\n    If you will let no other take it from you,\n    Terrible things I cannot bear to think of\n    Must fall upon you. Show me that you love me;\n    Am I not here to be your little servant,\n    Follow your steps and wait upon your wishes?\"\n\nAt four o'clock in the morning we returned to the choir. I stationed\nmyself before the manger to make my meditation on the mystery of the\nday. Of course Christmas is not very merry after such a vigil, but\nwho can tell the holy joy of such a night--worth all the gayeties of\nthe world!\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[22] F\u00e9n\u00e9lon.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nI read in the refectory for the first time to-day. When I returned to\nthe novitiate after my dinner the good mother said, \"You have read so\nwell, you merit a recompense.\" I glanced at the mantel and saw the\nAmerican stamps with the benign faces of Washington and Franklin, so\nwelcome in this far-off land....\n\nI hope you will never speak of burdening me with an account of your\ninfirmities, whether bodily or spiritual. I love that loving command\nof the apostle, to bear one another's burdens; for we are never more\nChrist-like than when we forget our own trials to bind up the wounds\nof a fellow-sufferer. Be assured I pray for you without ceasing. I\nnever enter the presence of the Blessed Sacrament without invoking\na blessing on you and on my dear country. I never communicate or\nperform an act of penance without desiring that you may participate\nin the grace I receive. Oh! that by my fidelity to God I might draw\ndown the blessings I daily implore for you and for all who are dear\nto me! O my God! spare me not. Let _me_ suffer mental and bodily\ntrials, let _me_ be the victim of thy justice; but spare my loved\nones! If I cannot labor _directly_ for thee, I can at least suffer\nfor thee, for them, and for the whole world. Thy victim, O God! thy\nvictim. The name befits me better than that of thy spouse.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nI have read somewhere that the ropes in the English navy are so\ntwisted that a red thread runs through them all, in such a way that\nthe smallest pieces may be recognized as belonging to the crown. So\nthrough our lives should run a thread, coloring its whole woof--a\nlove for God interwoven with the very thread of existence, and\ninspiring every act of our lives. St. Francis de Sales said if he\nknew that the least fibre of his heart did not beat with love for God\nhe would pluck it out. O love that transcends all others! how did\nwe once exist without thee? O days without a sun! O nights rayless\nand dark! how happy are we who have escaped from your gloom! How\ndifferent is the divine friend from our earthly one. When once we\nhave studied a person and penetrated his individuality, the charm of\nhis presence is gone. We have squeezed him dry. But the friend that\nsticketh closer than a brother, he is unfathomable and ever new. The\nheart is never weary of divine companionship. On the contrary, the\nmore completely we give ourselves up to it, to the exclusion of every\nother, the more we feel that _God alone_ can satisfy the cravings of\nour hearts.\n\n_Dieu seul_ was the device a holy American bishop gave me on the\nday of my confirmation. The signification of these words has been\ngrowing upon me ever since. They have expanded till they have filled\nthe whole heavens, and lit up my life with wondrous splendor. There\nis no spot on my horizon where they do not shine out. Every object\nunmarked by them seems to fade out of view. All knowledge, all\nscience grows pale before their significance, and every wound of the\nheart finds a balm in their healing ray. \"_Paix! paix!_ DIEU SEUL\n_est la paix_!\" says F\u00e9n\u00e9lon.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_February._--The day on which Pius IX. added the crowning star of\nimmaculate purity to the coronet of Mary was the cause of great\nrejoicing throughout France. All the principal cities have been\nilluminated. At Toulouse, the sides and roof of St. Saturnin's\ncathedral were covered with lights, and another church had fifteen\nthousand lamps upon it. Ours was not least among the cities in her\njoy, and it did the soul good to witness such a display of Catholic\npiety and enthusiasm, worthy of the ages of faith. As soon as the\nbull of promulgation arrived from Rome, Monseigneur ordered the _Te\nDeum_ to be chanted with the utmost pomp in all the churches of the\ndiocese. The same evening the whole city was illuminated. Nothing had\nbeen seen like it since the visit of Napoleon I. to this city. At\nthe grand portal of the priory were several hundred lamps, forming\na monogram of Mary, over a beautiful transparency of the _Vierge\nImmacul\u00e9e_. The belfry, tower, and all the windows of this immense\nestablishment were lighted up, and many windows were like chapels of\nthe Virgin all aflame. The top of the convent walls was one long line\nof light, so closely were the lamps placed upon it. Pennons with the\ncolors of the Virgin were placed at uniform distances among these\nlights, and one floated from the stone cross on the chapel. The whole\nscene was magical. From the tower we could see much of the city,\nwhich was so universally illuminated and adorned that it looked like\nthat city of jewels\n\n    \"In fairy land whose streets and towers\n    Are made of gems, and lights, and flowers.\"\n\nAll was so still that no one would have suspected the intense\nenthusiasm that reigned in every heart. Only from before a little\nstatue of the Madonna, in the convent garden, rose a sweet song to\nthe Virgin, Ave Sanctissima! which floated up through the damp night\nair from the lips of the spouses of Christ with a sound as plaintive\nas the voice of past times.\n\nEven the poorest people in the city--and you know not how poor are\nthe poorest in this old country--had their candles and a picture\nof the Virgin at the window. One poor woman begged enough to buy a\nwax candle, which she cut in three pieces to light up her wretched\nabode. The towers of the cathedral looked like the jewelled turrets\nof Irim. All the public buildings were also lighted up. I wonder\nwhen the civil authorities of the United States will order a general\nillumination in honor of the Virgin Mary! On the top of the hospital\nwas a _Vierge en feu_. Even one window of the prison tower, which\nlooms up behind the cathedral--a huge quadrangular monument, dark and\nforbidding as a donjon keep of ages past--was brilliant with lights,\nwhile far up in the very highest window gleamed one bright solitary\nlamp, like the last ray of hope in the heart of the captive. That\nlight pierced me to the heart.\n\nAnd all this in honor of a once obscure virgin of Judea. One can well\nsing \"_Exaltavit humiles_.\" In the streets were arches of triumph,\nand at most of the windows were Madonnas, crosses, monograms, flags,\netc., etc. The streets were crowded with people as on Holy Thursday,\nfor every body went to visit the different churches and monasteries,\nand thousands came in from the country. But all were so quiet and\nthoughtful that one felt it was a religious festival. The _Rue du\nPrieur\u00e9_ was crammed, but so subdued were the voices that we should\nhardly have been aware of it, had we not seen the people from the\ngrated windows above. Such thoughtfulness was truly edifying.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nHoly Week has just passed again with its touching ceremonies, which\nrecall so many overwhelming mysteries of faith. What a feast for the\nsoul on Maunday Thursday, when the Divine Host remained all day and\nnight on the altar amid a blaze of lights, and the perfume of flowers\nand incense, exposed to the eyes of his adorers! Who could tear\nhimself away from that altar? Who could hunger after earthly aliment\nwhen that Living Bread was replenishing the hungry soul? Ah! what are\nthe pleasures of the world compared with those found in thy presence,\nO Incarnate Word! I read the fourteenth chapter of St. John's Gospel,\nthose tender words of our Saviour before his crucifixion, and\nmeditated on them for hours.\n\nMany of the nuns remained all night before the Blessed Sacrament. We\nnovices made the holy hour together--that midnight hour of union with\nthe Saviour's agony in the garden. \"Couldst thou not watch one hour\nwith me,\" he seemed to say. Such an hour is an eternity for the heart\nthat loves.\n\n\"O God!\" I say constantly, \"the Catholic Church alone knows how to\nhonor thee with due worship.\" I wish I could define all the emotions\nof the past few days, when the sufferings of Christ were renewed in\nour hearts. I thought my very heart would break on Holy Thursday\nduring the _Stabat Mater_. The words and the music are the very\nembodiment of sorrow, and I felt myself with Mary at the foot of the\ncross, sharing the pain from that sword of grief.\n\nThe ceremonies of this holy time are, of course, far more simple in\nour chapel than at the cathedral, but perhaps not less touching.\nNothing could be more so than, at the veneration of the cross on\nGood Friday, to see the long train of nuns reverently lay off their\nshoes, and, all enveloped in their long black veils, and bowed down\nby sorrow of heart, approach the crucifix, prostrating themselves\nto kiss the sacred wounds; and then the three hours agony, when the\nheart is full of anguish on Calvary.... Several of us remained a part\nof Good Friday night to grieve with _Marie d\u00e9sol\u00e9e_ over the traces\nof her crucified Son. There is a whole existence in such days and\nnights, and when we come back to ordinary life we are oppressed by\nthe heaviness of the atmosphere.\n\n    \"How shall we breathe in other air\n    Less pure, accustomed to immortal fruits?\"\n\nOur whole Lent was uncommonly solemn. I never entered so fully into\nthe spirit of the church, never meditated so much on the sufferings\nof Christ. They so occupied my mind during the hours of meditation,\nthe _via crucis_, which we make so often, and even during the\nordinary duties of our life, that I felt bowed down by a weight of\ninexpressible sorrow, which the alleluias of Easter and the joyful\n\"_Regina Coeli l\u00e6tare_\" have hardly dissipated. Oh! why are you not\nsharing all these impressions? But then you have what perhaps is\nbetter--the cross, which is our portion everywhere. \"_Souffrir et\nmourir, c'est toute la vie._\"\n\nI was struck with a little picture I saw to-day: the picture of a\ncross with cords extending from one of the arms to the foot, like a\nharp. A person stands leaning on it, his hands touching the strings;\nand our Saviour was near him; his holy hands uplifted to bless.\nEvery cross would thus be to us a divine lyre with a capability of\nwonderful harmony, had we the courage to learn to draw it forth. May\nmy hand yet acquire the skill of producing this heavenly music, my\nears quick to catch the vibrations of this wonderful instrument, and\nmy soul attuned to its harmony! O wonderful science of the cross! how\nvaried are the lessons the loving heart may learn therefrom. When St.\nThomas of Aquin was asked whence he drew the inspiration that fed his\nwonderful genius, he pointed to his crucifix as its only source. Ah!\ncould we only learn to know \"Jesus Christ and him crucified!\" May you\nhave the grace to bear your cross with patience, and learn therefrom\nits wonderful lore. The cross imposed by Almighty God is far more\nmeritorious, far more beneficial to our souls, than any of our own\nchoice; for he alone knows how to crucify. I constantly feel this\nmore and more, that _he alone_ knows how to crucify.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_May 11._--This is one of the Rogation days. Cur\u00e9 and flock go in\nprocession around the country chanting the Litany of the Saints to\nimplore the blessing of God on the fruits of the earth. At these\ntimes the _propri\u00e9taires_ erect huge crosses on their land by the\nhighway, adorn them with garlands, and place at the foot an offering\nfor the cur\u00e9, perhaps of provisions. The procession passes from one\ncross to another. All kneel around the emblem of our salvation to beg\nthe divine blessing on the basket and store of him who erected it. It\nis a beautiful ceremony, at which the peasantry assist with great\nfaith and devotion. It is an expression of dependence on the Giver of\nall good for every blessing.\n\nThursday will be the feast of the Ascension. The paschal candle, in\nwhose sacred light we have loved to linger since Easter, is again\nto be extinguished, and the ten succeeding days we are to pass in\nretreat and prayer, like the disciples in the upper chamber awaiting\nthe feast of Pentecost.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_June._--Yesterday I had been writing for some time in my cell,\nwhen I heard an unusual bustle of nuns going to and fro in the long\ncorridors, as if something had happened. Going to the window, I\nsaw the river had risen to an alarming height. An inundation was\nexpected, owing to the sudden melting of snow in the Pyrenees.\nWe all went to clear the chapel. A priest came to transport the\nblessed sacrament to the upper choir. The _quais_ were crowded with\nspectators, and the _gendarmes_ were among them keeping order.\nMasseube is said to be under water. Several of the nuns watched all\nnight. This morning less danger is apprehended, though the river is\nvery high, and the water is coming into the chapel. \"_Le bon Dieu\nest irrit\u00e9 contre nous_,\" say the nuns, as they tell their beads to\ndeprecate the wrath of Heaven. Every thing is depressing to-day. Dark\nclouds hang over us heavy with rain. The cathedral bell is tolling\nfor some funeral. The trees seem to shiver in the winds that come\ncold from the snowy Pyrenees. And the dying-away tones of some chant\nafar off is the very voice of sorrow, and only adds to the impressive\ngloom.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nOn Trinity Sunday, the whole country was inundated in the valleys\nof the Garonne, the Adour, and the Gers, causing an immense loss\nof property. Such a flood has not been known for a hundred years.\nSome villages are nearly destroyed, many lives lost, the produce of\nthe farms all washed away, and the meadows nearly ruined. The whole\ncountry was in consternation. As we are on the banks of the river,\nwe are sufferers of course. It was fortunate we had the precaution\nto have the blessed sacrament transported to the upper choir, as the\nnext morning there were six or eight feet of water in the chapel,\nlower choir, and sacristy. It was pitiful to look down from the upper\nchoir on the sanctuary. Notre Dame de Bon Secours was washed down\nfrom her niche into the middle of the church, and lay floating on the\nwater flat on her back. The garden was overflowed and nearly ruined;\nthe kitchen, refectory, etc., were invaded. Most of the nuns were up\nall night carrying things into the second story. All was confusion\nfor some days. We ate what we could and where we could in primitive\nstyle--a complete subversion of monastic regularity. The weather\nhad been gloomy for days, but Sunday was one of the brightest,\nclearest days of June. I went to the tower to see the whole valley\ncovered with water. The effect was fine. The vast expanse of water\nwas sparkling in the sun. The trees and groves were like islets in\nthe midst of a glittering lake. The rapid current swept oceanward,\ncarrying down houses, furniture, bridges--every thing that offered\nresistance. Crowds of people were out, giving animation to the scene.\nAll this brilliancy was in striking contrast with the wretchedness\nproduced by such a flood! The air was so clear that the Pyrenees\nseemed very near us, and they gleamed in their snow-clad summits\nabove the verdure and desolation and activity of the world, like the\nBride of Heaven in her veil of purity; but they looked cold and\ncheerless even in the morning sun--and so near heaven!\n\nAt Condom, (a village not far off, and remarkable for nothing but\nthat Bossuet was its bishop before he was transferred to Meaux,\nthough he never saw the place,) at Condom more than thirty houses\nwere destroyed--a great number, considering that all the houses here\nare of stone and very solidly built. Had not our monastery been on\na strong foundation, we should now be uncloistered. The chapel is\nnot yet dry, so we have mass still in the upper choir. We are thus\nbrought close to the feet of our Lord. During the office I stand\nor kneel not two steps from the altar on which is the tabernacle.\nWhat bliss! We seem more closely united to Him who is our life, our\nconsolation, our _all_, and for whom we have left all!\n\nHaving mass in the choir obliges the priest to enter the cloister\nevery morning, which seems strange, as ordinarily he never enters\nexcept to administer the consolations of religion to the sick. The\ncloister is very strict here. Our parlors have the blackest of\ngrates, beyond which no visitor comes, and through which we talk to\nour friends. I love this barricade against the world, which says,\n\"Thus far shalt thou come, and no farther.\" There is also a grating\nin the sacristy through which the _sacristaine_ can attend to the\nwants of the chaplain. Even the choir is separated from the chapel by\na grate; the body of the church being for the world.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nHaving a private opportunity of sending a package to America, I\nshall despatch my note-book to you, all full of odds and ends as it\nis. Caught up in my few spare moments, it only contains fragments\nof what was in my heart. The young missionary who is to take it is\nonly twenty-five years old, and has just been ordained. He is full\nof enthusiasm for the missionary life. He belongs to a noble family\nin Auvergne, and is a relative of our dear Sr. St. A----'s. He is\nthe youngest of a patriarchal family of eighteen, six of whom are in\nheaven. Of the remaining twelve, nine are consecrated to God--two are\nJesuits, two Visitandines, one a lady of the Sacred Heart, two devote\nthemselves to the care of the insane, and the ninth is in some other\norder of charity. This young _p\u00e8re_ has been thirteen years with the\nJesuits, six as a pupil, and since as a member of the order. His\nfirst mass was at Christmas, and was served by one of the children of\nLa Salette, to whom the Blessed Virgin Mary appeared. The next day\nhis mission to America was assigned him. He seems full of zeal and\npiety.[23]\n\nI must close my long journal. It is a piece of my heart which I send\nacross the waters, while I remain here. Good-night, my friend. I\nextend my arms across the wide ocean to embrace you. I never retire\nto rest without throwing open my casement to look at \"the cloistered\nstars that walk the holy aisles of heaven.\" They alone are familiar\nto me in this strange land. I have loved them from my infancy, and\nI fancy they look down tenderly and tearfully upon me. The thought\nbrings tears to my eyes. Oh! shine as gently on those I love. Let\neach bright beam be a holy inspiration in their hearts--each tearful\nray carry consolation to the soul troubled and in sorrow. A passage\nfrom the German says, \"I know but two beautiful things in the\nuniverse--the starry sky above our heads and the sense of duty within\nour hearts.\" I leave the one and return to the other.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[23] This priest has since died in a Southern diocese.\n\n\n\n\nTRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH.\n\nAPPEAL TO YOUNG CHRISTIAN WOMEN.\n\nBY MARIE DE GENTELLES.\n\nBRIEF OF HIS HOLINESS PIUS IX.\n\n\nPIUS IX. POPE, TO HIS BELOVED DAUGHTER IN CHRIST, MARIE DE GENTELLES:\n\nBeloved daughter in Christ, grace and apostolic benediction.\n\nIn these days when the peril of souls is continually growing greater,\nwe have always directed our efforts particularly to the extirpation\nof the roots of evil, among which not the least pernicious is female\nextravagance. Hence, last October, when we spoke of the respect due\nto the holiness of our churches and of certain disorders which had\nbegun to appear among the people of Rome, we took occasion to speak\nlikewise of this destructive pestilence which is spreading in every\ndirection, and of its remedies.\n\nWe were much pleased, therefore, to see, beloved daughter in Christ,\n\nthat you have not only followed our advice yourself; but, being\ndeeply impressed with its force and importance, have written a book\nin which you depict the sad consequences of extravagance, and call\nupon the women of the present day, and particularly those who belong\nto the societies of the Christian Mothers and the Daughters of Mary,\nto unite against this pernicious evil, which is so destructive to\nmorals and to the welfare of the family.\n\nFemale extravagance wastes, in superfluous adornment of the body, and\nin frequent attention to the toilette, time which should be given to\nworks of piety and mercy, and to the care of the household; it calls\nits votaries from home to brilliant assemblages, to public places,\nand to theatres; it causes them, under pretext of complying with the\nrequirements of society, to pay numerous visits, and thus to waste\nhours in news-seeking and in scandalous conversation; it attracts\nsinful desire; it wastes the patrimony of children and deprives\npoverty of needful assistance; frequently it separates those who are\nmarried; more frequently, it prevents marriages, for there are but\nfew men who are willing to incur such heavy expenses. As Tertullian\nwrote, \"In a little casket of jewels women display an immense\nfortune; they place on a single string of pearls ten millions of\nsesterces; a slender neck upbears forests and islands; beautiful ears\nexpend the income of a month; and every finger of the left hand plays\nwith the contents of a bag of gold. Such is the strength of vanity;\nfor it is vanity that enables the delicate body of woman thus to walk\nbeneath the weight of enormous wealth.\" Experience shows that this\naversion to marriage fosters and increases immorality. In the family,\nit is almost impossible in the midst of so many distracting vanities\nto cultivate domestic love by means of domestic intercourse, or to\ngive to religion even what ordinary custom requires.\n\nThe education of children is neglected, household affairs do not\nreceive proper attention and fall into disorder, and the words of the\napostle become applicable, \"If any one have not care of his own, and\nespecially of those of his household, he hath denied the faith, and\nis worse than an infidel.\"\n\nAs a city is composed of families, and a province of cities, and a\ncountry of provinces, the family thus vitiated disorders the whole\nof society, and step by step brings upon us those calamities which\nto-day we behold on every side.\n\nWe trust, therefore, that many will unite with you to remove from\nthemselves, their families, and their fatherland the cause of so\nmany evils. We trust, also, that their example will induce others\nto lay aside whatever goes beyond the just limits of neatness. Oh!\nthat women would believe that the esteem and love of their husbands\nis to be won, not by magnificent dress or costly adornments, but by\ncultivation of the mind and of the heart and of every virtue. For\nthe glory of woman is from within, and she that is holy and modest\nis grace added unto grace, and she alone shall receive praise who\nfeareth the Lord.\n\nWe trust and believe, therefore, that your undertaking will meet with\nthe happiest success. As a presage of which, and a pledge of our\npaternal good will, with the tenderest affection, we impart to you\nour apostolic benediction.\n\nGiven in Rome, at St. Peter's, on the eighth day of July, 1868, in\nthe twenty-third year of our pontificate.\n\n                                  PIUS IX. _Pope_.\n\nOn occasions rendered doubly solemn by their infrequency, the\ncommon father of the faithful raises his voice to warn the entire\nworld either against abuses which threaten society, or against\nthose perverse doctrines which would attempt the annihilation of\nthe kingdom of truth. These sacred words, coming from the lips of\nhim to whom Jesus Christ has entrusted the care of his church, are\nalways received by the whole of the immense Catholic family with that\nrespect and submission which are due to a father.\n\nA few months ago, Pius IX. suggested the establishment of a society\nof ladies who by their example and influence might succeed in\nmoderating that extravagance which is the ruin of families, and one\nof the principal causes of immorality. \"In order to accomplish this\nmost difficult undertaking,\" adds his Holiness, \"we must remind\nwomen that if in every place it is unbecoming modesty to endeavor\nto attract attention by extravagance and strangeness of dress, in\nthe sacred church where God dwells and sits upon a throne of mercy\nto receive the prayers and adorations of the faithful, it is a true\ninsult to him in whose eyes pride, pomp, and the desire of pleasing\nmen are hateful.\"\n\nThese words of the Holy See, we may rest assured, are more applicable\nto us women of France than to the ladies of the Roman nobility, who\nare more grave, more pious, and more reserved, whatever may be said\nto the contrary, than the women of our land.\n\nWhen travelling through England, Germany, or Russia, have we not\nsometimes felt a foolish pride on seeing that everywhere the most\nelegant robes and head-dresses were styled \"modes de Paris.\" It is\ntrue that whatever in dress is new or elegant is imported from the\ncapital of France, or is made after our Paris fashions. But we have\nno reason to be proud of this frivolous and dangerous supremacy; for\nif it is universally said that the French woman is truly elegant in\nmatters of dress, we should, for that reason, feel under obligation\nto undertake the reform of an abuse which we aid if we do not\noriginate.\n\nAlready, for several years, not only has the Catholic pulpit spoken\nwith serious severity against the extravagance of our sex, but even\nthe government has been aroused by these abuses which are every day\nproducing the most evil results; and we have not forgotten the severe\nwords of President Dupin to the Senate in June, 1865. To-day, things\nhave assumed a still graver aspect, for the Holy Father has called\nour attention to this deplorable abuse.\n\nThe time, then, has come to undertake a crusade, as it were, against\nan enemy whom we shall not have to cross the seas to seek, because he\nhas cunningly penetrated to our firesides, there to sit beside us and\nto disturb and destroy the peace of the family.\n\nThis necessary reform must be inaugurated by the young women of\nFrance; those of a mature age will encourage and aid our efforts;\nbut it will be for us who cannot be accused of envy or of jealousy\nto raise aloft the standard of the holy league, to put limits to\nextravagance, and to say, \"Thus far shalt thou go, and no farther.\"\n\nExtravagance in dress, and the point it has at present attained, is\nsimply ridiculous folly, and at the same time, what is more to be\nlamented, it is in direct opposition to the spirit of Christianity.\n\nWe are thinking creatures, rational and intelligent. It is evident,\nand there are those of our sex who have proved that we are capable of\nfeeling the noble joy which is found in the study of literature and\nthe sciences, and in the cultivation of the arts. How comes it, then,\nthat we are content with those frivolous occupations in which most of\nus squander our time?\n\nTo rise as late as possible, to make some calls, to drive to the Bois\nde Boulogne, to visit some fashion emporiums, to consult for whole\nhours on the arrangement of a lace flounce or the trimming of a gauze\ndress; to return home, dress for dinner; dress again for a soir\u00e9e, a\nconcert, or a ball; to pass a number of hours in exhibiting our own\ntoilettes and in finding fault with those of others, and, finally,\nto retire to rest when the sun is on the point of rising--frankly,\nis not this the history of day after day? When do we take a book\ninto our hands, unless perhaps it be some new romance, of which the\nstyle is as frivolous as the matter is pernicious. But a book, a true\nbook, can one be seen on the table of our boudoirs? Some journals of\nfashion may be there; a review perhaps, cut only where some romantic\nstory is found. What care we for the rest? As to standard literary\nworks, and historical studies, how can we think of them?\n\nWe never have a moment to ourselves, and we often say with an\naffected sigh, \"Alas! the world is a cruel tyrant; it takes up all\nmy time, my days, my nights.\" And we might add, \"My life and my\nintelligence;\" for are not many among us what Tertullian would style\n\"gilded nullities\"?\n\nWhile I was still a child, I happened to meet with a charming young\nwoman, twenty-two years of age, who, on recovering from an illness\nwhich had nearly proved fatal, was seized with a singular mania. She\nused to play with dolls.... Isabel had remained very gentle. Her\nfriends at first endeavored to drive away this unaccountable mania;\nbut as soon as they took her dolls from her, she seated herself in a\ncorner of the apartment, wept, refused all nourishment, and would not\nspeak.\n\nIn accordance with the advice of physicians, her family had then\nyielded to her childish tastes, and she passed her whole time in\ndressing and undressing her daughters, as she called the dolls.\nNothing could be more pitiful than to see this tall, beautiful girl,\nsurrounded by her toys, and amusing herself like a child of six years.\n\nWell! do we not resemble poor Isabel somewhat, and, like her, would\nwe not be capable of weeping and giving ourselves up to despair if\nour playthings were taken from us?\n\nOh! yes, insanity, real insanity, is that foolish extravagance which\nconsists in a constant changing of the shape, material, and pattern\nof our clothing. And is not insanity a stranger to wisdom?\n\nTo be wise is to give to each object in life that place which\nreasonably belongs to it. It is to have for all our actions a special\nand determined end. If we see a man devoting his whole time, his\nfortune, his researches, to the formation of some strange and perhaps\neccentric collection--of shoes, for instance, from every country--we\nsmile and say to one another, \"He is out of his senses!\" Out of\nhis senses! and why? Is it because he has but one thought, but one\nambition--to augment, to increase his collection at any price? We are\nmore foolish than this collector of old shoes, for many of us have\nbut one fixed thought, one only desire, dare I acknowledge it, one\nsole aim in life--to adorn ourselves! And no collection will remain\nafter us.\n\nWe might attempt to acquire an honorable position in society by our\nvirtues, or by the superiority of our minds; but we merely desire\nto attract attention by the extravagance of our dress, to cause\nourselves to be remarked and admired, and if possible, to humble\nour rivals. Do not think I exaggerate, because such is really the\ncase, with an infinite variety of shades; for in every woman whose\nexclusive occupation is the toilette, there inevitably exist a desire\nto please and jealousy. You enter a parlor in the evening wearing a\nnew robe, (and when you go into company your toilettes are always\nnew, since you never appear twice in the same dress;) well! you are\nnot satisfied until you observe some admiring glances directed toward\nyou, until you perceive some expressions of annoyance and envy on the\ncountenances of the young women who surround you. Having returned to\nyour homes, what occupation precedes your sleep? What interrupts,\nwhat destroys it? You think over in your mind all the ladies you\nmet at the ball; and if one of them had a dress more beautiful than\nyours, flowers more gracefully arranged, or diamonds more sparkling,\nyou are discontented. You are _jealous_. Then what plans you make not\nto be eclipsed another time, but to be the most beautiful. It is not\nenough that we are admired; our happiness is in reigning alone.\n\nWe often shelter ourselves behind this singular excuse, \"I do not\nwish that my husband should be ashamed of me. I endeavor to present a\nfine appearance, but it is entirely for his sake.\"\n\nIf we would occasionally condescend to ask the advice of our\n_masters_, if we would do so particularly with our dry-goods or\nmillinery bills in our hands, I think they would be more likely\nto advise simplicity in our toilettes than to express themselves\nsatisfied with their extravagant elegance. Now frankly, do you\nbelieve these gentlemen so simple as to desire that every glance may\nbe directed to the dress of their young wife, or to the garland of\nflowers which adorns her hair?\n\nI was present one day, in the house of a friend, at an amusing\ncontradiction given to assertions of this sort.\n\nMadame de G----, assisted by her maid, was trying on a rose-colored\nsatin dress which had just been sent home from the dressmaker's, and\nwhich she was to wear at a grand official ball the same evening.\nShe turned round and round before the mirror of the room, and her\nimmense trail appeared to her much too short. What distressed her\nparticularly was that the corsage was not _low enough_. I asked in\nastonishment how low she wanted it.\n\n\"Mariette,\" said she to her maid, \"this must be cut several inches\nlower all round.\"\n\nAnd turning to me, \"My husband does not like such high-necked\ndresses,\" she said.\n\nWhile the lady was occupied with some other detail of her charming\ntoilette, the door opened and the husband to whom she so generously\nsacrificed the requirements of modesty entered. He examined his\nwife's toilette. He had the right to do so, since he would have to\npay for it. He thought the rose color a little too lively, the trail\na little too long, and, above all, the corsage much, very much too\nlow.\n\n\"My dear child,\" said he, \"your dressmaker is incorrigible; she has\nnot the least judgment; you must procure another. You cannot appear\nin company so uncovered. Arrange matters as best you can, but this\ndress must be altered.\"\n\n\"Why! every one dresses this way. Is it my fault if you do not\nunderstand these things, Adrian? However, I shall not contradict you.\nI will have a puff of tulle put around the corsage. It is going to\nmake the dress horribly high, and all its style will be lost.\"\n\nSuch is the opinion of a husband, heard by chance; it is what is\nsometimes said and what is always thought.\n\nLet us then appeal to the husbands!\n\nUndoubtedly, to clothe one's self is a necessity; to make her\ngarments becoming is, I might almost say, woman's marriage portion;\nand I would not dare to assert that our ancestors, the Gauls, did not\nseek and discover the means of wearing in a graceful manner the skins\nof wild animals which protected them from the inclemencies of the\nseasons, just as the women of the present day have learned to clothe\nthemselves with elegance in the rich fabrics of India or in clouds of\nexquisite lace.\n\nBut between the former and the latter what a distance! What a broad\ngulf!\n\nThere is something peculiar to the toilettes of the present\ncentury; a desire for unceasing change which exceeds the bounds of\neccentricity and even of extravagance. The Greek wife or Roman matron\ndesired but one thing--garments which would enhance their beauty.\nUndoubtedly they admired rich and costly goods; but I do not believe\nthat the day after they had imported, at a great expense, robes of\nthe finest linen or silken tunics of brilliant colors, they would\ndeclare that fashion would not permit a garment so cut or a head\ndress arranged in such a manner.\n\nAnd without going back so far, what would our ancestors of two\ncenturies ago say, if they saw the decided repugnance we feel to\nappearing twice in society with the same toilette?\n\nTheir dresses, so rich, so graceful, so sparingly adorned, were\nhanded down almost from generation to generation; and surely those\ncelebrated women of the eighteenth century were not less beautiful\nthan we, as their admirable portraits which adorn our parlors clearly\nshow. I lately saw three pictures of the same marchioness, taken at\ndifferent periods of life--as a very young woman, at thirty-five or\nforty years of age, and at a more advanced period of life; and I\nfound her in the three portraits wearing the same robe of brocade,\nonly the rose-colored ribbon which adorned her hair and her corsage\nin the first two pictures had been replaced in the third by a bow of\na more sombre color.\n\nHow astonished would those ladies of the court of Louis XIV. have\nbeen, if it had been predicted that their great-grand-daughters\nwould change the style of their apparel or the dimensions of their\nhead-dresses every year, and that a hundred different publications\nwould carry every week from one end of France to the other the\ninventions, more or less happy, more or less singular, of some\nfashion-maker of the capital. For let us remark, and it is a\nsufficiently striking fact, that in the continual changes of fashion\nwe who at times find it so difficult to yield our wishes to those of\na husband whom we have sworn before the altar to obey, are always\nready to yield obedience to a milliner or a mantua-maker, whose only\ndesire is to sell their goods. And in truth they succeed in doing\nthis very well. Have you never remarked a very curious circumstance,\nand one which deserves to be related in the history of the costumes\nof the nineteenth century? To-day, fashion passes from one extreme\nto another, so that what was worn last year is not permitted this\nyear. And now do you understand this apparently strange custom?\nA robe is graceful in style and trimming; it is very becoming to\nyou; the color harmonizes well with your complexion and your hair;\nyour mirror has told you so. The fashion changes; your face, your\nstyle of beauty, if beauty you possess, remain the same; yet you\ndo not hesitate to discard your becoming attire for something so\nridiculous, so extravagant, so frightful perhaps, as to make you\nappear ungraceful or even ugly; but you have obeyed the mandates of\nfashion. Certainly the extravagances and caprices of the present day\namply prove the truth of what I have said.\n\nEven if past forty, we will wear short dresses, round hats, curls,\nand high-heeled boots. Even if tall and slender, no one will wear\nnarrower skirts. Even if possessed of a full rounded form which we\nvainly deplore, we will pick out white corsages, light dresses, and\nthe smallest of hats, because our greatest, or rather our only,\nfear is lest people should say that we wear things which are out of\nfashion.\n\nFashion! Let us throw off its shameful yoke. Instead of accepting,\nlet us make its laws. This is reasonable ambition. Why not form a\ncommittee, and every year, or at the beginning of every season, pass\njudgment on the important question of the transformation of our\ntoilettes? Why not submit the laws made by this female assembly to\na committee composed of our husbands; and finally, promulgate and\nintroduce them to the notice of all whom they concern by a special\nand duly authorized publication?\n\nI commend this project to the serious consideration of our young\nwomen. All will admit that it would be less humiliating for us to\nsubmit to the dictates of fashion under such, than under present\ncircumstances.\n\nClothing has a twofold end: to cover us and protect us from the\ninclemencies of the seasons, to supply the place of the beautiful fur\nor the brilliant plumage which forms the natural covering of beasts\nand birds. I will return later to the question of woman's clothing\nconsidered in a religious and moral point of view. At present, I\nshall treat of it only as it regards health. Do our dresses cover us?\nBy a strange reversion of common _sense_, it is during the severity\nof winter we most willingly expose our arms and necks. You smile?\nThe parlors are warm. But are our carriages, are the streets of\nour large cities? You would shudder if I should present to you the\nfrightful statistics of the young women who have fallen victims to\nsuch imprudences. Every religion has its martyrs. Do you wish to be\nmartyrs to fashion?\n\nThe second end of our apparel is to indicate the respective positions\nof persons in society. Thus, the Roman senators had the privilege of\nwearing the white tunic ornamented with purple. So also, in our own\ntime, the uniform of the army reveals at a glance the rank of the\nwearer. Alas! in this respect, of how much use is it to us at the\npresent day? The sumptuary laws, the edicts of Louis XIII. and Louis\nXIV., are entirely forgotten.\n\nThere was a time when each class of society had its special dress.\nFurs, silk, gold, and silver could be worn only by persons of a\ncertain rank in society. What a frightful revolution would break\nforth among the women of France if to-day the ruling sovereign should\nattempt to regulate the width of our laces or the number of our\njewels! In the present age extravagance tends, on the contrary, to\nconfound all ranks of society. From the servant girl to the fine\nlady there is but one desire, one ambition--to appear what one is\nnot. Yes, to appear what one is not; let us acknowledge it to our\nshame. Is not the fashion of our garments imitated, often invented by\nwomen to whom we would not speak? And around the lake of the Bois de\nBoulogne have we not sometimes mistaken the Marchioness de ---- for\nMlle. X----, or Mlle. Z---- for the Countess de ----?\n\nI feel rather ashamed to mention such things; but addressing my own\nsex, it is allowable; the truth is often severe; but it is always\nuseful. I saw a lovely young woman in a saloon one evening covered\nwith confusion at these few words addressed to her by the Ambassador\nde ----.\n\n\"I admired exceedingly, madame, that elegant yellow dress you wore\nthis afternoon in the park.\"\n\n\"I!\" she exclaimed in astonishment. \"My dear count, you are mistaken.\nI was in blue, and the yellow dress was worn by ----.\"\n\n\"You are right. But pardon my mistake; both ladies wore the same kind\nof head-dress.\"\n\nSee to what our round hats, little bonnets, and red locks lead.\n\nWhat folly to keep ourselves continually in a false position by our\nextravagant outlays; to be reduced to have recourse to a thousand\npetty means of freeing ourselves from the embarrassments in which our\nlove of dress has involved us.\n\nTo-day it is a lie.\n\n\"How much did this dress cost you?\" asks a husband, a little uneasy\nat the prodigality of his young wife.\n\n\"Two hundred francs,\" she replies without hesitation, while she is\nfully aware that double or triple that amount would scarcely suffice\nto pay for it.\n\nAnd when the time arrives for paying these formidable bills, how\ndifficult to procure the thousands of francs represented by a few\nyards of lace or faded silk. How we stoop from the rightful dignity\nof our position when we condescend to beg for time and favor of a\ntradesman, or dressmaker, or milliner, after confessing that we have\nnot the necessary sum at our disposal.\n\nIn a certain city that I could name a linen-draper had sold goods\non credit to a young woman to the amount of forty thousand francs.\nFearing that she would never pay him, he sacrificed the interest and\naccepted this singular promissory note: \"To receive from my estate\nforty thousand francs.\" The lady's heirs will find her elegant\ndresses and fine laces rather costly.\n\nO folly, folly! Our lives pass away amidst such trifles. We are\nseeking happiness; it is here at our hands. We could not only be\nhappy in the bosom of our families by fulfilling our duties, but we\ncould, moreover, render those around us happy. We foolishly prefer\nto cast aside these true enjoyments and fill up our lives with empty\nappearances of pleasure.\n\nWe forget how swiftly time flies. To-day we are young, and the world\nwelcomes us; but our bloom, our beauty, which to us is every thing,\nwill soon fade; it will vanish, and what is more melancholy than old\nage for many women? To know how to grow old,... it is knowledge which\nthe wise alone possess.\n\nThe Holy Scripture, in addressing the daughters of Sion, pictures\nwith striking truth the kind of punishment which God reserves for\nthem. The Holy Spirit adopts, in some measure, the language of the\nworldly woman herself, and it seems to me that these words might be\naddressed to each one of us:\n\n     \"Because the daughters of Sion are haughty, and have walked with\n     stretched-out necks, and wanton glances of their eyes, and made a\n     noise as they walked with their feet, and moved in a set pace:\n\n     \"The Lord will make bald the crown of the head of the daughters of\n     Sion, and the Lord will discover their hair.\n\n     \"In that day the Lord will take away the ornaments of shoes, and\n     little moons,\n\n     \"And chains and necklaces, and bracelets, and bonnets,\n\n     \"And bodkins, and ornaments of the legs, and tablets, and\n     sweet-balls, and ear-rings,\n\n     \"And rings, and jewels hanging on the forehead.\n\n     \"And changes of apparel, and short cloaks, and fine linen, and\n     crisping-pins.\n\n     \"And looking-glasses, and lawns, and head-bands, and fine veils.\n\n     \"And instead of a sweet smell there shall be stench, and instead\n     of a girdle a cord, and instead of curled hair baldness, and\n     instead of a stomacher hair-cloth.\"[24]\n\nIn these words we are threatened with old age; with that old age\nwhich is daily drawing nearer; which awaits but the moment to seize\nupon its prey; which makes the woman who leads a life of gayety that\nwhich you well know.\n\nOh! those women who remain beautiful in spite of old age, with their\nwhite hair, their wrinkles undisguised, their cultivated minds, and\ntheir winning kindness. These are not the women who in earlier life\nplaced all their happiness in following, even to the most minute\ndetails, the frivolities of fashion. I am, moreover, convinced that\nif the woman of the world of twenty or thirty years ago was fond of\ndress, she was far from devoting her whole time to it. Fashion was\nnot then so variable. The outlay for clothing was evidently a much\nsmaller item in the family expenses. In a word, if this folly was\nsometimes seen, it was an isolated case.\n\nIn these latter days only has the contagion spread in an alarming\nmanner.\n\nSo much for the human side of the question. Permit me now to enter\ninto a more elevated circle of ideas, and to remark that hitherto I\nhave appealed neither to conscience nor to religion. I have addressed\nmyself to women of the world; I now turn to young Christian women; to\nthose whose tender years were watched over by pious mothers, whose\nyouth was formed by a truly religious education; to those whose lives\nhave not been blighted by any of those errors which banish a woman\nfrom her position in society, but who, on the contrary, have remained\nunsullied in the eyes of the world and have no cause to blush beneath\nits gaze. Here I feel at my ease, since it is permitted me to make\nuse of the language of faith. This faith we still possess, but it\nslumbers in the depths of our souls; undoubtedly it will awaken in\nthe hour of trial; the death of a darling child, a sudden change of\nfortune; less than that even--a single deception may suffice, and\nwe shall feel that God is our father; and we shall see things in\ntheir true light; that poisonous cloud which surrounds the woman of\nthe world will be instantly dispelled, and the mysteries of life\nand death will be unfolded to our astonished gaze. But until that\ntime shall come, our life is consumed in a strange and dangerous\nillusion. A few religious practices of which we have retained the\nhabit, perhaps because they were fashionable, make us believe, and\ntherefore cause others to believe, that we are still real Christians.\nMeanwhile, carried away by the round of pleasure which we call\nlegitimate enjoyment, we live on, without troubling ourselves to\ninquire whither we are hastening. Days follow days, years succeed\nyears; from time to time one among us is missing. God has called her\naway; but we did not hear her last words; we did not see the despair\nof that poor young woman when she found herself in the presence of\nher Judge with her hands empty. And hence we continue in our mode\nof life. Hours and days of weariness, of sadness occasionally steal\nin upon our worldly lives. Some new pleasure claims us, and in its\npresence past bitterness is soon forgotten. Thus are spent the best\nyears of our lives, lost--religiously speaking--lost for ever. Our\nactions are useless, our thoughts frivolous, our existence devoid\nof all merit. And yet ought not our constant aim be to secure the\nhappiness of our husband, and the salvation of his soul as well as of\nour own? to bring up our children in a Christian manner, and to edify\nthe world by our example?\n\nThis point presents a fit subject for religious moralizing, which,\nhowever, comes neither within my aim nor my ability. It is for\nvoices possessing greater authority than mine to treat of such grave\nmatters in a becoming manner. The ministers of the church, both by\npreaching and the pen, have shown us our duties with a clearness and\na correctness before which we humbly bow. But as to a question of\ndetail, especially when, as at present, it concerns extravagance of\ndress, I believe I am right in thinking that one of yourselves can,\nbetter than any one else, treat a subject so distinctively pertaining\nto woman.\n\nLet me remark in the beginning that I wish to condemn in our toilette\nnothing save what is contrary to propriety or modesty. I am not\nopposed to crinoline, to trails, to diamonds, nor to rubies. Rose\ncolor, blue, white, and black are alike to me. Whether linen, silk,\nor wool serve by turn to cover us, is a matter of indifference.\nMoreover, it is evident that woman, whatever her age or condition,\nshould endeavor to render her attire suitable and becoming. St.\nFrancis of Sales desires that a wife should adorn herself to please\nher husband; and a maiden, with a view to a holy marriage.\n\nThe woman who betrays an absolute negligence in her toilette, who\nwould willingly appear in a torn dress or a faded bonnet, when her\nposition in society requires something better, is almost as much to\nblame as those who spend their whole time in dressing and undressing.\n\nThat which we ought to possess, that which should regulate our dress,\nas well as all our actions, is a clear comprehension of our duties.\nWe should appeal to our conscience, scrutinize our intentions and our\ndesires, and then regulate and reform wherever there is need.\n\nWe do not deny that this world is a place of pilgrimage, and life\na season of trials; that they are foolish indeed who think only of\nculling flowers from the road-side while time flies and eternity\napproaches. We often experience within ourselves a certain opposition\nbetween our convictions and our conduct. Our life is not regulated as\nit ought to be. It is not tending to its end, which is our eternal\nsalvation. We have acknowledged these truths when, on leaving\nthe church where we had listened to some celebrated preacher, we\nconfessed to ourselves that our mode of life was not sufficiently\nserious, and that it ought to be reformed.\n\nStrange to say, I feel, I see, many women in like manner feel and\nsee, that the love of dress, the importance we attach to every thing\nconnected with fashion, is the principal cause of the frivolity and\ninutility of our lives. But there we stop. What! you will say, has\na ribbon, a flower, a piece of velvet or satin so great an influence\nwith us? Try, then, to maintain the contrary with your hand upon your\nconscience, and you will see that I have not gone too far.\n\nMuch is said about woman's mission! It is constantly repeated that\nthe future of society depends on us. If we occasionally forget this,\nwe should certainly not suffer others to doubt it. We wish--and we\nare right in doing so--we wish to occupy an important position in the\nfamily and in society; we struggle vigorously against those who would\nassign to us a secondary position; we boast that we exercise a great\ninfluence over men. This idea flatters our self-love.\n\nBut let us not forget that this circumstance becomes for us a source\nof strict obligations. Man is nurtured in our arms, and grows up\nat our side. He is, we may say, whatever we make him. That primary\ninstruction which it is our duty to impart to him, exercises the\ngreatest influence on his after life. His mother! He will always\nremember her, and her example, good or evil, will leave an indelible\nimpression on his soul. And our husbands, our fathers and brothers!\nWe know our power over them, and we sometimes use it in matters\nwhich are not really worth all the diplomacy we employ. That mission\nof mother, of wife! Have we forgotten that it is the end of our\nlife, the reason of our creation? God, who has established laws for\nthe material world, laws from which even a slight derogation would\nproduce a great catastrophe, has likewise marked out for each one of\nus her place here below. He has not placed us in this world without a\ndefinite end in view. Woman has serious duties to perform, of which\nshe must one day render a strict account to her Creator.\n\nHave these duties, these obligations which our Lord has imposed upon\nus, been hitherto our principal concern? Has our worldly life, with\nits numerous preoccupations, left us time to be true wives and true\nmothers? Alas! the world and its requirements take up all our time.\nAnd yet the duties to which we are bound by this twofold title,\nalthough differing with our different positions in the world, oblige\nequally the wife of the mechanic, the merchant, the officer, and the\nprince, before both God and society. Here, then, is the pith of this\nquestion; it may be summed up in a single word: are we wives and\nmothers, or are we merely women of the world?\n\nThose children whom God has confided to our care, and of whom we\nshall have to render an account, do we suppose that we have done our\nduty toward them when we have procured tutors for them, or when we\nhave placed them in an academy?\n\nHow many among us, alas! find it difficult to see our children for\neven a few minutes during the course of the day. We have not the\ntime to attend to them, we say. We have not the _time_! To whom\ndoes our time belong, if not to these little ones who call upon us\nby the sweet name of mother? Let us not plead our position. I know\nwomen who mingle a great deal in society, who have a great number of\nservants to be looked after, who yet manage their time so well that\nthey are enabled to spend the greater part of the day with their\nchildren. They have hours set apart for conversing with them, for\ninforming themselves of their progress--in a word, for attending to\ntheir education. These mothers are happy. The gratitude of their\nyoung families, the affection which surrounds them, the sense of\nduty performed--shall we dare compare these true and noble enjoyments\nwith the empty pleasures which the exhibition of a new dress or even\nan eulogium passed on our beauty procures us? And, candidly, is it\nnot more worthy, more sensible, to say, \"I have not time to go to the\npark,\" than to allege that we have not time to love and to care for\nour children?\n\nAnd our husbands--do we devote our time to them any more than to our\nchildren?\n\nAh! you will perhaps reply, my husband has very little need of my\nsociety; he lives for himself; I live for myself. If I have my\ntoilettes, my drives, and my friends, he has his horses, his friends,\nand his club.\n\nThere is the misfortune; and the question is, are we not, to a\nconsiderable extent, responsible for this deplorable habit of, so to\nspeak, separate existences? Do you not think, then, that the majority\nof husbands would prefer a different kind of life? That it would be\nmore agreeable to them to enjoy oftener the pleasures of home, in\nyour company, surrounded by their children?\n\nYou do not believe it? Be it so; but have you ever tried the\nexperiment? Have you not yourselves created a necessity for this\nlife of continual agitation and excitement? Have you ever reserved\ntime to be devoted to your husband? And is it not your desire that\nthings should remain just as they are--you with your liberty and\nyour husband with his? Do you not prefer to squander (for that is\nthe word) your hours and your days, rather than face the _ennui_\nthat your own worldly tastes would cause you to experience in the\nretirement of a serious, and, in comparison, solitary home?\n\nBut it is not our time alone that we thus waste. We waste likewise a\nfortune which in reality is not ours.\n\nWe are born rich, while all around us the poor--children of the same\nGod--are without bread to eat, and ready to die of hunger, perhaps\nunder the same roof.\n\nWe forget that, according to the designs of Providence, we have a\nduty to discharge toward the suffering and the needy! It is not for\nourselves alone that God has given us riches. He wishes us to be his\nalmoners, and the practice of charity is a strict duty.\n\nThe bestowing of alms is not only an evangelical counsel; it is\noften a precept. If the divine Ruler employs the most tender images\nin describing the merit of charity and the clearest and strongest\npromises when speaking of its reward, he has for the one who refuses\nto assist a brother, and leaves him in want, the severest of\ncondemnations. Consider the parable of Lazarus and the rich sinner,\nbut especially those terrible words: \"I was hungry, and you gave me\nnot to eat.... Depart into everlasting fire.\"[25]\n\nWill a few gold pieces ostentatiously dropped each year into the\ncollection boxes, a few contributions to other charities, which we\nare ashamed to refuse, suffice to save us from a similar sentence?\nWhat has become of that pious custom of tithes for the poor formerly\nfound in rich families?\n\nIf, before entering the establishment of the fashionable jeweller,\nwe would ascend to the garret of the indigent--we should often\npurchase fewer bracelets. It is not heart that is wanting in us, but\nreflection.\n\nA young woman of whom some one was asking assistance for a family\nwhich had fallen into misery, and whose sufferings they were\npicturing to her, exclaimed with a simplicity which was her only\nexcuse:\n\n\"Why, are there people who are poor? I did not know it!\"\n\nWe know that there are poor people, but we too often forget it.\nLove of dress and the voice of vanity smother in us the love of the\nsuffering members of Jesus Christ and render us deaf to the appeal of\nour unhappy brethren.\n\nIf we would only consider that by sacrificing a few yards of lace, or\nby consenting to appear twice during a season in the same dress, we\nmight with the money thus saved assist several families each winter,\nwe would more frequently be kind and charitable.\n\nAnd that we may not forget the necessities of our brethren, let us\nassist them directly. Does not history tell us of more than one queen\nfashioning with her own hands garments for the poor, and laying aside\nthe grandeur of her position to distribute them herself?\n\nBall-rooms, theatres, and the public drives are, unfortunately, not\nthe only places in which we make a display. Fashionable dressing has\nbecome such a habit, such a necessity with us, that, as the Sovereign\nPontiff remarked with sorrow, our holy temples often present the\nsad spectacle of women who call themselves Christians, and believe\nthemselves such, coming to these holy places rather to rival one\nanother in extravagance of attire than to excite to piety. Alas! what\ninfluence will our supplications have, if humility, that essential\ncondition of prayer, be wanting. Ah! let us rather remain at home\nthan go to the foot of the altar with the guilty desire of being\nadmired.\n\nI have yet another part of this important subject to treat: the\nimpropriety, the indecency, why not say the word, of certain\nfashions?\n\nI turn in shame from the thought of them. Let each one of us descend\nto the very depths of our conscience, let us scrutinize our hearts,\nbearing in mind this terrible utterance: \"He that shall scandalize\none of these little ones that believe in me, it were better for him\nthat a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned\nin the depth of the sea.\"[26]\n\nHow, then, are we to remedy so great an evil? How oppose a barrier\nto this ever-increasing tide of luxury and of prodigality? The Holy\nFather points out the way in a few plain and simple words. To form\namong ourselves an association--a holy league, if I may thus express\nmyself--to have our laws and regulations, and, with the zeal and\ndetermination which characterize us when we wish to attain any end,\nto pursue this one without truce or mercy.\n\nBut what promises could and should be made by the members of this\nsacred league? They will have to be determined by the brave champion\nwho shall bear the standard in this war against extravagance.\nI do not think, however, any difficulty will be found in their\ndetermination. We should begin by promising to examine seriously\nbefore God what are the motives which actuate us in the adornment\nand embellishment of our persons; to purify our intentions, and to\nentertain none that would cause a blush if revealed.\n\nTo please our husbands, to support our position in society, to remain\nwithin the bounds of a just elegance, these are motives which we can\nwithout shame avow. But to seek in the toilette a means of being\nremarked, or admired, or loved, outside of our home circle; a means\nof humiliating other women, of surpassing them, of reigning without\na rival; in a word, of eclipsing all others--all this would be\nentirely contrary to the spirit of the association.\n\nAs to the engagements, in some sort material, to be entered into by\nthe members, I think they might be limited to three.\n\nWe should first determine in advance, and in the most positive\nmanner, the amount to be expended each year on our toilette; which\namount we should never exceed. From this sum we should deduct a\nportion for the poor, and increase the amount as much as possible by\naccustoming ourselves to sacrifice from time to time our wish for\nsome novelty, in order that we may relieve our unfortunate brethren,\nupon whom we should bestow our charities in person.\n\nFinally, and here is a very essential point, we should never\npurchase any thing without paying for it immediately; or if, in some\ncircumstances, this is impossible, we should lay aside the price of\nthe dress, the bonnet, or the cashmere we have selected.\n\nOh! if we could well understand how much there is of order and of\ngood sense in those two words so little known to most women--_cash\npayments_! Try this plan, if only for a year, or even six months, and\nyou will see the truth of my assertion.\n\nI have finished; pardon me for having dared to raise my voice, not\nto give you advice, I have neither the right nor the intention to do\nso, but only to communicate to you ideas which have been suggested to\nmy mind by the admonitions of the highest of authorities, and by the\nresolutions which I have taken, and which I trust I shall have the\ncourage to keep.\n\nMy object is, to ask of you in this matter that union in which is\nfound strength, and to remind you that God is in the midst of those\nwho fight for a holy cause. May my voice be heard! May the young\nwomen of our beloved France arouse themselves at the thought of a\ndanger which threatens the dignity of our sex! May this new and holy\nwar be soon inaugurated in which we shall be both combatants and\nconquerors!\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[24] Isaias, iii. 16, and following.\n\n[25] St. Matt. xxv. 42.\n\n[26] St. Matt. xviii. 6.\n\n\n\n\nLOST AND FOUND. A WAYSIDE REMINISCENCE.\n\n\nWhat woman, travelling alone, has not encountered the embarrassment\nof entering a car already nearly filled with passengers? Perhaps the\nawkwardness of the situation may not be as keenly felt by those who\nfrequently meet it, and who are accustomed to the manifold jostlings\nof this busy world, as by a recluse like myself. However this may be,\nI can testify from experience that the ordeal is a painful one to a\nsensitive and shrinking nature. So it chanced that, upon discovering\nthis condition of affairs as I entered a car at Prescott, on a fine\nmorning in June, 1867, I dropped into the first vacant place my eye\ndetected, by the side of an elderly lady dressed in deep mourning.\nThe first glimpse of her face and manner satisfied me that she also\nwas from the \"States,\" and I felt quite at home with her at once.\n\nWe soon fell into conversation, and I found my companion most\nagreeable, quiet, and intelligent. We beguiled the monotony of a\nrailway journey by pleasant chat upon the scenery through which we\nwere passing, and such other topics as came uppermost. I noticed, as\nwe stopped a few minutes at Brockville, that she seemed to scan all\nthat could be seen from the car with deep interest; and again, as we\npursued our course up the river in sight of the Thousand Islands, she\nwas quite absorbed in her observation of the scenery.\n\n\"Beautiful islands,\" I remarked; \"I would like nothing better than to\noccupy some days in exploring their fairy haunts.\"\n\n\"You would find many of them beautiful indeed!\" she replied.\n\"They are very dear to me; for my early life was passed in their\nneighborhood, and I retain for them much of the affection that clings\nto the memory of dear friends, though I have not seen them before for\nmany years. What frequent merry-makings and picnic festivals did the\nyoung people from the American shore and those of Brockville enjoy\ntogether among the windings of their picturesque labyrinth, long\nago!\" she added with a sigh.\n\nShe then informed me that she was now on her way to Illinois, to\nvisit her children there, and had chosen this route, that she might\ncatch a passing glimpse of scenes most interesting to her, from their\nconnection with memories of the past.\n\nTime and space passed almost imperceptibly to us, as we were engaged\nin discussing one subject after another of general interest, until\nsome time in the afternoon, when, clatter! clatter! thump! thump!\na jolt and a bounce, brought every man in the car to his feet, and\ncaused every woman instinctively to settle herself more firmly\nin her place, while a volley of exclamations, \"What can it be?\"\n\"There's something wrong!\" \"Cars off the track!\" \"We shall be down\nthe embankment!\" burst from every quarter, the swaying, irregular\nmovement preventing the possibility of reaching the door, to\ndiscover the cause of all this disturbance. The time seemed long,\nbut in reality occupied only a few seconds, before the motion ceased\nsuddenly, with a hitch, a backward jerk, and a concussion, which had\nwell-nigh thrown us all upon our faces; and the conductor appeared\nfor a moment in the door, uttering with hasty tremor, \"Don't be\nalarmed, ladies and gentlemen--no danger! axle broke--cars off the\ntrack. We shall be detained here some time.\" And away he went.\n\nThis announcement was met, I am sorry to say, with more murmurs\nat the detention than thanks for our providential escape from\nimminent peril. \"How unfortunate!\" cried one. \"And in this lonely,\ndisagreeable place too!\" added another. A third wondered where we\nwere, when one of the company familiar with the route volunteered the\ninformation that we were not many miles from Toronto.\n\nNow, from the moment I sat down by my new acquaintance, I had\ndivined--by that sort of mysterious sympathy, impossible to define,\nbut which will be understood by all converts to the Catholic\nfaith--that she was, like myself, of this class; and she had formed\nthe same conjecture in relation to me; which was, perhaps, the\ncause of our having formed a sudden intimacy not quite in keeping\nwith the native reserve, not to say shyness, of both. Our first and\nsimultaneous act, upon the occurrence of the incident recorded--in\nfortifying ourselves with the blessed sign of benediction and\nprotection so precious to all Catholics--had confirmed the mutual\nconjecture, and established a strong bond of sympathy between us.\n\nAs we left the cars together, I observed that she still scanned\nthe surrounding localities with an earnestness that did not seem\nwarranted by any claims they possessed to notice; for a more tame and\nuninteresting region can scarcely be imagined than that in which we\nso reluctantly lingered.\n\n\"What wonderful changes forty years will make in the face of a new\ncountry!\" she at length exclaimed. \"I passed this way, going and\nreturning, in 1827, at an age when the deepest impressions are\nreceived, and upon an errand so peculiar in its nature as to make\nthose impressions indelible. I have always carried the picture of\nthe route, slowly traversed at that time, in my memory; but the\ntransformation is so complete that I look in vain for one familiar\nfeature.\"\n\nAfter walking for some time in silence, she resumed: \"It is strange\nhow vividly the most minute details of that journey and the incidents\nconnected with it return to me, now that we are so singularly\ndetained in the vicinity of the scenes I then sought, though there is\nnothing in the aspect of the country to bring them back!\"\n\nBy this time we had loitered into a shady nook, at no great distance\nfrom the disabled car; and its coolness inviting us to remain after\nwe had seated ourselves upon a rock overgrown with moss, I begged\nthat she would while away the time of our detention by giving me a\nhistory of those incidents.\n\n\"The narrative may not prove very interesting to you,\" she replied.\n\"The recollection of events that took place around us in youth has\nmore power to move ourselves than others. But of this you shall judge\nfor yourself.\n\n\"In 1826, I was visiting a dear friend who lived on St. Paul street,\nin Montreal. It was a pleasant evening in June, the close of one\nof those very warm days so common in the early part of a Canadian\nsummer, where the interval between the snows and frost of winter\nand the fervid heat, the verdure and bloom, of summer, is often so\nmarvellously short as to astonish a stranger.\n\n\"I was sitting in my room, at an open window that looked out on a\nnarrow back-court, the opposite side of which was bounded by a row\nof low-roofed tenant-houses parallel with the bank of the river,\nand over these, upon a magnificent view of the St. Lawrence rolling\ngrandly down past the city, at which I was never tired of gazing. I\nhad been contemplating the mighty flood for some time, my thoughts\nwandering sorrowfully far up its waters and the stream of time to\ntranquil scenes now closed to me for ever, when the words, 'Ah,\nDonald! that I should live to see this day! Do not ask me to sing the\nhymn we love this night, when my heart is sae sair that it is like to\nbreak! I canna, canna sing the sangs o' Zion i' this strange place,\nand in our sharp, sharp griefs!' came floating to my ear on the\nevening breeze, from an open balcony along the rear of the tenements\nmentioned.\n\n\"There was a depth of anguish in the tones that touched the tenderest\nchord of sympathy in my heart, which was then writhing under the\npangs of a recent sore bereavement.\n\n\"My childhood had been passed near settlements of the Lowland Scotch\nin St. Lawrence County, New York, and I was therefore familiar with\ntheir dialect, the use of which added to my interest in the speaker,\nand I listened eagerly for further sounds. For some time I heard\nonly a suppressed sobbing, and the low tones of a manly voice that\nseemed to be soothing an outburst of grief which was overwhelming his\ncompanion. At length I heard him say, with an accent that betokened a\ntongue accustomed to the use of the Gaelic dialect,\n\n\"'It would drown the sorrows of my gentle Maggie, if she would only\nstrive to sing. Let us not forget the dolors of our Blessed Mother in\nthe agonies of our ain grief. I will sing, and mayhap she will join\nme.'\n\n\"Presently a singularly wild and plaintive air was borne to my ear\nupon the flowing cadences of a man's voice, as soft and musical as\nany to which I had ever listened. The words were in Gaelic, but the\nrefrain at the close of each verse '_Ora, Mater, ora_'--revealed\ntheir religion, and that it was a hymn of the Blessed Virgin to which\nI was listening. Before the close of the first verse, he was joined\nby a voice, low and clear as the tones of a flute, bearing upon every\nstrain the fervent outpourings of tender piety, though tremulous with\nemotion.\n\n\"Soon after it ceased, they retired within the open door of their\nroom, and I heard them reciting alternately, in a low voice,\nthat treasured devotion of the Catholic heart--of which I was\nthen entirely ignorant, but which has since (thank God!) become\ninestimably precious to me--the beads of the Holy Rosary.\n\n\"Their evening prayers being over, they walked for some time on the\nbalcony in silence, when she said in a trembling voice,\n\n\"'It is a month to-morrow, Donald, a month to-morrow, sin' God took\nawa' our darlings; and och! wha wad hae thought I could bide sae lang\ni' this cauld warld without a sight o' their bonnie faces! I dinna\nken why I live, when my sweet bairnies are buried far awa' i' their\nwatery grave!'\n\n\"'Ah Maggie! why wad ye not live for your poor Donald? He mourns\nfor the bonnie bairnies too; but he does not wish to leave his\nMaggie because God has ta'en them from her. Cast awa' these repining\nthoughts, my own love, and let us go to the church thegither\nto-morrow morning, and lay all our griefs before the altar of our\nGod.'\n\n\"I heard no more; but resolving to accompany them to church, I\narose very early the next morning, and preparing myself, watched an\nopportunity to join them, as they passed from the street where they\nwere stopping into St. Paul street.\n\n\"We walked on in silence after I joined them, and I saw that he was\na tall, athletic young Highlander, of dark complexion, and with soft\nblack eyes; whose remarkably fine face glowed with intelligence and\nmildness. Her beauty was more conformed to the Lowland type; her eyes\nbeing of a deep clear blue, her hair 'flaxen,' and her complexion\nexceedingly fair, while her teeth of snowy whiteness had a little\nprominence that caused them to be slightly revealed between her\nrose-bud lips, even when her countenance was in repose. Her form\nwas very slender, and her beautiful face so youthful as to seem\nchild-like. I never saw such a perfect expression of soul-absorbing\nyet patient and subdued sorrow as lingered upon every line of those\nyouthful features.\n\n\"We entered the old Recollet church, and I remained near them during\nthe service. It was my first visit to a Catholic church, and I had\nnever before been present at the offering of the holy sacrifice.\n\n\"Soon after our entry, I noticed that first one of them and then the\nother passed for a brief space of time into a little curtained box\nat the side of the aisle; but being ignorant of Catholic usages, I\ndid not know for what purpose, though I was deeply impressed by their\nsolemn, reverent manner, and the peaceful expression of their faces.\nDuring the progress of the service, which commenced soon after, I saw\nthem approach the rail before the altar, and knew it was to receive\nholy communion. The sweetly serene and pensive light that rested upon\ntheir features after that solemn act is still vividly before me,\nnotwithstanding the lapse of years.\n\n\"When they left the church, I followed closely, determined to learn\nsomething, if possible, of their history. At the church door the man\nparted from her, and went away in an opposite direction from that by\nwhich we had come, leaving her to walk back alone. As I walked by her\nside, I addressed some casual remark to her, and then, confessing\nthe interest I felt in them on account of what I had accidentally\noverheard the evening before, begged her to tell me, as her sister in\naffliction, of the griefs which were oppressing her.\n\n\"We sauntered slowly down the narrow streets from the Recollet church\nto our places of abode, and our young hearts being drawn together by\nthe bonds of sorrow, I mingled my tears in sympathy with hers while\nshe related her artless story.\n\n\"She was the only child of a minister of the Scottish Kirk, whose\nname was Lauder, and who died when she was quite young. Her mother,\nbeing left in feeble health, and destitute of any means of support,\ngladly accepted the home offered by her sister, who was married some\nyears before to a Highland gentleman by the name of Kenneth McGregor,\nand who became a Catholic soon after her marriage.\n\n\"They were welcomed to the home of her aunt with true Scottish\nhospitality; and the most devoted and delicate attentions which\naffection could devise were lavished upon her heart-broken mother, to\nsoothe and comfort her, while the little Maggie became at once the\npet of a large household of cousins older than herself, who regarded\nher ever after as a dear sister. So kind were the whole family to\nher, that she was not permitted to feel the loss of her father in\nthe sense most chilling and painful to the heart of the orphan, that\nof being an object of indifference and neglect. They went frequently\nto visit their Lowland friends, and kept up an intercourse with them\nduring the life of her mother.\n\n\"When she had reached her twelfth year, the minister of the kirk\nwhich they had attended since their removal to the Highlands, with\nseveral of his small congregation, among whom were her mother and\nherself, made their profession of the Catholic faith; soon after\nwhich event her mother died.\n\n\"When Maggie was in her fourteenth year, she became acquainted with\nDonald Macpherson, whose father was a warm friend of her uncle\nKenneth. A strong attachment soon grew up between the young people,\nand when she was sixteen she was married to Donald. When they had\nbeen married about six years, and had three children--the oldest of\nthem a daughter five years old and named for herself, and the others\nboys--Donald thought best to join a colony (among whom were two of\nher cousins and their families) who were preparing to depart for one\nof the new and remote districts of Upper Canada. Donald, as the one\nbest fitted by education for that purpose, was appointed surveyor of\nthe wild lands, and to lay out roads in the wilderness.\n\n\"They suffered much in parting with home and friends, but alas!\nsubsequent floods of affliction obliterated all traces of those\nlighter griefs.\n\n\"Their voyage was long and stormy, and when they were at length in\nsight of Newfoundland, and hoped they were about to reach the end of\nit in safety, a storm in the Gulf of St. Lawrence drove their vessel\nupon the rocks in the darkness of evening, and it was wrecked. The\npoor young parents lashed their little Maggie firmly to a plank, and\ncommitted her to the waves; then taking each a child, and imploring\nthe aid of heaven for themselves and their little ones, they plunged\ninto the water. The mother was soon exhausted with the buffeting of\nthe waves; her child was borne from her arms, just before she was\nthrown within the reach of friendly hands, and taken up unconscious.\nDonald was dashed against the rocks, and caught from the receding\nwaters of an immense wave, shortly after, by those who were on\nthe shore watching to render aid to the sufferers, insensible and\napparently lifeless. The child he had was also lost.\n\n\"They were taken to a fisherman's hut, and by the persevering efforts\nof those in attendance animation was restored, though it was some\ndays before they recovered their consciousness, only to find that\ntheir children and their relations had perished. But a small number\nof their companions on the voyage survived. Their goods and clothing,\nwith the exception of what they wore, were all lost; but this was too\ntrifling to be thought of in comparison with their other misfortunes.\n\n\"As soon as they were able, they proceeded to Montreal, in company\nwith the survivors of the wreck, and Donald showed the certificate\nof his appointment as surveyor--which he fortunately carried in his\nvest-pocket--to the mayor of the city, who provided comfortable\nquarters for them, and advised him to remain there until he should\nreceive remittances from Scotland, for which they sent immediately\nafter their arrival in Montreal.\n\n\"They had not yet decided whether they would return when these funds\nshould arrive, or go on to the place for which they had started, as\ntheir companions were anxious to have them do.\n\n\"She expressed entire indifference as to going on or returning; her\nchildren being gone, she did not care where she was. The terrified,\nimploring look of her darling Maggie, as she was dashed from them\non her frail support, amid the merciless buffetings and boiling\nsurges of the furious waves--her eyes straining to catch a glimpse\nof them, and her dear little arms extended so pitifully to them for\nprotection--haunted the imagination of the broken-hearted mother,\nand, she assured me, had not been absent from her thoughts one moment\nsince, sleeping or waking.\n\n\"My sincere and fervent sympathy seemed to afford her some comfort,\nand it was freely and heartily offered; for I was myself, as I have\nhinted, at that time a mourner over the recent loss of the kindest\nand best of fathers, whose only daughter and cherished pet I had ever\nbeen. His death, when I was yet but a child in years, was followed\nby severe pecuniary reverses, which had driven us from our home and\ninvolved our hitherto affluent and most happy family in difficulties\nand poverty. In my ignorance of sorrow and of the religion which\nalone can sustain the afflicted, I had thought there could be none\nso unhappy and unfortunate as ourselves. I could not then believe\nthe truth of the assurance, which was the solace of my invalid\nmother, that 'The Lord loveth whom he chasteneth.' I could not see\nthe tender mercy and love that had inflicted this cruel bereavement\nand surrounded our helpless family with such calamities, in the clear\nlight with which his grace afterward made it manifest to me.\n\n\"But here was an instance far more inscrutable and heart-rending.\nStrangers in a strange land; the broad Atlantic rolling between them\nand every heart upon which they had any special claim for sympathy;\ntheir children relentlessly torn from them; and all their worldly\nsubstance buried in the consuming deep! Why had they thus been\nsingled out as marks for such a shower of fatal arrows? I pondered\nmuch upon it, and my eyes were opened to see the mercies that had\nbeen mingled with the chastisements of a loving Father in our own\ncase. We had numerous and kind friends, whose sympathy had poured\nbalm upon our wounded spirits, and whose generous hands had been\nopened to aid us in our necessities. Of these, the dear friends\nwith whom I was then staying had been among the first, and their\nassistance and advice at that dark period of my life have ever been\nremembered with gratitude.\n\n\"While my new acquaintances remained in Montreal, I passed much time\nwith poor Maggie, to the entire satisfaction of my friends, to whom\nI communicated the sorrowful story on the day I heard it, and whose\nactive sympathy contributed much toward the relief and comfort of the\nyouthful mourners.\n\n\"When they at length received the expected funds from Scotland, they\ndecided to comply with the wishes of their surviving fellow-sufferers\nin exile and affliction, by accompanying them, according to their\noriginal intention, to Upper Canada. Our parting was very affecting.\nThey had learned to look upon my friends as kind benefactors, while\nthey regarded me as a sister. I felt very lonely after they were\ngone; but the lesson I had learned from my intercourse with them was\nnever forgotten. Their united and unquestioning acquiescence with the\nwill of God, and the persistent patience with which every action of\ntheir daily lives expressed, 'Though he slay me, yet will I trust in\nhim,' made a permanent impression on my mind.\n\n\"At the invitation and by the advice of my friends, I remained much\nlonger in Montreal than I at first intended, in order to learn the\nFrench language, and to acquire the knowledge of some other branches,\nfor which superior facilities were presented by the Sisters of the\nCongregation of Notre Dame, and which were necessary to advance my\neducation sufficiently to fit me for teaching, the object I then had\nin view.\n\n\"Nearly a year had passed since our parting with the Macphersons,\nwhen some friends from Vermont arrived on a visit to those with whom\nI was staying. I was requested, in consequence of the indisposition\nof the lady of the house, to accompany them to several places of\ninterest in the city, which they wished to see. Among these was the\nhouse of the 'Gray Nuns,' a sisterhood devoted to the care of a great\nnumber of foundlings. In passing through the rooms appropriated to\nthe children, I was particularly attracted by the face and attitude\nof a delicate-looking little girl of surprising beauty, who was\nsitting on the floor and devoting herself to the care and amusement\nof a little boy about two years old, whose beauty equalled her own,\nthough entirely different in character. She was fair as a lily;\nher large blue eyes were shaded by drooping lids and long silken\nlashes, which imparted a touching pensiveness to their expression,\nwhile her golden hair floated in shining curls to her shoulders. The\nlittle boy's complexion was dark and clear, his black eyes soft and\nbrilliant. The startled timidity combined with searching earnestness\nin their expression as he raised them to mine and encountered my\nadmiring gaze, (for I was always passionately fond of children,)\nthrilled my very soul, and, turning to the good sister who was\nconducting us, I exclaimed with enthusiasm, pointing to them,\n\n\"'What beautiful children!'\n\n\"'Yes,' she said with fond pride, and evidently flattered by our\nnotice of her pets, 'they are indeed beautiful; and alas! their\nmisfortunes are as striking as their beauty. They belonged to a\nScotch family on board a vessel that was wrecked off Newfoundland,\nand their parents perished. Mr. Ferguson, a Scotch gentleman in very\ninfirm health, from our city, was visiting some friends in that\nvicinity, and happened to be passing in a carriage with one of them\non the evening of the storm and the shipwreck, when, noticing the\ntorches and bustle on the shore, they stopped to inquire the cause\nand to render assistance, if possible, to those who were washed\nashore. This little girl had been lashed to a plank, and, by a\nwonderful providence, when the baby was borne away from his mother,\nthe same wave carried him within reach of his little sister, who\nseized and clung to him as with a dying grasp, until she was snatched\ninsensible by Mr. Ferguson from the top of a wave which rolled far\nup on the shore, and would have hurried them back in its receding\nsurf but for a powerful effort on his part, which had nearly cost\nhim his life; for he received injuries in the attempt, by severe\nsprains and otherwise, that rendered him almost helpless for some\nweeks. His friend took the children and himself in the carriage to\nhis residence, over two miles distant--it being the nearest house\non that unfrequented part of the coast, with the exception of some\nfishermen's huts at some distance in the opposite direction. Mr.\nFerguson was unable to leave his bed for some weeks. Unfortunately,\nthe physician of that neighborhood was absent on a visit to a distant\ncity.\n\n\"'It was long before they succeeded in restoring any sign of life\nto either of the children, and when their efforts were at length\nrewarded by faint evidences of returning animation, they had to exert\nthemselves to the utmost for many days to keep alive the vital spark,\nwhich had been so nearly extinguished. When they began to revive and\nrecover strength, another difficulty met the devoted friends of the\nlittle unfortunates. The nerves of the little girl had sustained so\nsevere a shock that she could not be aroused to a sense of any thing\naround her. She was constantly struggling fearfully with imaginary\nbillows, or settled in a kind of idiotic vacancy. When the physician\nreturned, he gave but little hopes of her recovery, as he feared her\nbrain was so far affected as to unsettle reason permanently.\n\n\"'As soon as the gentleman who had taken them to his house dared\nto leave them and Mr. Ferguson so long, he went to inquire after\nthe survivors of the wreck, and found they had departed in a vessel\nbound for Montreal. Mr. Ferguson was confined, as I have said, for\nmany weeks at the house of this friend, and before he could return\nto Montreal he had become so much attached to the little treasures\nhe had snatched from a watery grave, that he could not be persuaded\nto leave them, (although he was a bachelor,) but brought them to us,\nthat they might be where he could sometimes see them.\n\n\"'The little girl recovered but slowly. After some time she began\nto have lucid intervals, from which she would sink into mental\napathy. Her sleep was for a long time broken by dreams of agonizing\nstruggles, from which she would awake screaming, and so terrified\nthat it required our most anxious and tender efforts to soothe and\nquiet her. She has, however, recovered almost entirely from these,\nand her mind is quite clear, though physically she is still a very\ndelicate child, and we fear her constitution has encountered a shock\nfrom which it will never recover. During the first of her lucid\nintervals, she told us her name, and what she could of her parents.'\n\n\"While the good sister was reciting this little history, I stood like\none in a maze, half unconscious of the bewildering conviction which\nwas stealing over me that these were two of the children whose loss\nmy poor friends, the Macphersons, were bemoaning; and when at length\nshe closed the narrative, by saying that the child had revealed her\nname, I seized her arm with such a sudden and convulsive grasp as\ncalled attention for the first time to the fact that I had become\npale as death, and whispered huskily,\n\n\"'What did she say was her name?'\n\n\"'Maggie Lauder Macpherson,' replied the sister, as I tottered to\nthe nearest seat, almost fainting under the intense excitement. She\nhastened to bring me some cold water and other restoratives; after\ntaking which I explained to her, and to my astonished companions,\nthe cause of my agitation in few words, and that the parents still\nlived. When I sank into the chair, little Maggie had risen, and,\napproaching timidly, stood watching me with great anxiety. As soon\nas the momentary faintness passed, I drew her closely to my heart,\nand--still trembling with agitation--whispered fondly and gently,\n\n\"'My dear little lassie, I knew and loved your mother!' Looking up\nmost wistfully in my face, she asked,\n\n\"'Where?'\n\n\"'Here in Montreal,' I replied.\n\n\"'That canna be!' she murmured with plaintive softness, and as if\nhalf-musing, while the very expression of her mother's own serene\nresignation, mingled with a shade of disappointment, passed over her\nlovely features.\n\n\"'That canna be, gentle leddy, for my mither (and she shuddered as\nshe uttered it) was buried in the cauld waves!'\n\n\"'No! my child,' I said softly; 'your father and mother both escaped,\nand are living, though a great ways from here.'\n\n\"It would be useless for me to attempt a description of what\nfollowed, as the truth of my assurance took possession of her mind;\nbut the excitement of the sudden and joyful surprise--which we feared\nmight injure her--seemed to restore the elasticity of her youthful\nspirit; a result that all other appliances had failed to secure. It\nwas then discovered that the depressing consciousness of their orphan\nand destitute condition had so weighed upon her sensitive young\nheart, as to affect her delicate frame and prevent her restoration to\nhealth.\n\n\"I immediately sought my friends, and told them of the discovery;\nafter which we went together to see Mr. Ferguson. It was agreed\nbetween them, at once, that I should accompany the children to Upper\nCanada and deliver them to their parents, as a privilege to which I\nwas especially entitled on account of the interest I had taken in the\nfamily. They furnished all necessary means for defraying the expenses\nof the journey.\n\n\"I set out with my little treasures the next morning, under charge\nof an old gentleman who was going to that vicinity on business. Our\ncourse lay up the St. Lawrence, and through a considerable portion\nof Lake Ontario. When we landed and left its shores, our journey\ncontinued through a rugged wilderness country of great extent, to\nregions, then wilder still, in the interior of Upper Canada, where\nsettlements of Scotch had been located. We stopped at a rude log\ncabin that aspired to the dignity of an inn, at the settlement where\nthe route of our stage-wagon terminated, and which was only a few\nmiles distant from the place we were in search of.\n\n\"While the gentleman who had the care of us was out looking for a\ncarriage to take us on, I thought I heard a familiar voice outside,\nand, stepping to the window, looked from it just in time to see\nDonald Macpherson himself, in the very act of driving away from the\ndoor, at which he had stopped a moment to speak to a man there. I\ntapped loudly on the window, he turned his head, and, throwing the\nreins to the hostler, in another moment rushed into the room, just as\nI had succeeded in hiding the children in an adjoining bedroom, and\nclosing the door.\n\n\"'Is it possible, then,' said he, 'that it is indeed yoursel' I saw!\nWhat in the name of gudeness could hae brought you (the last one I\nshould have thought of seeing) to this awfu' wild region! But I am\nthat glad, any how, to see your dear face that I could cry, as Maggie\nwill, I'm sure; but they will be right joyful tears she'll shed, for\nyou will go with me this very hour to our home in the woods. But what\ncould have brought you to face the fatigue of this rough journey?'\n\n\"'I came,' I replied as calmly as I could, 'on business that nearly\nconcerns you and Maggie, and I am so glad to meet you here! I am sure\nProvidence must have sent you; for I have been trying all the way to\nthink how I could manage the business on which I came, without being\nable to settle upon any plan. Breathe a prayer to Heaven, Donald\nMacpherson, as fervently for strength to bear your joy, as I have\nheard you utter under the pressure of crushing griefs, while I tell\nyou,' I said slowly, and fixing my eyes upon his face, 'that Almighty\nGod has sent two of your lost children back to you by my hands--your\nlittle Maggie and your baby boy!'\n\n\"Never can I forget the expression that stole over his features--now\nwhite as the sculptured marble--when I succeeded in finishing what I\nhad to say! He lifted his hands and eyes reverently to heaven, and\nmurmured a prayer in his native dialect. Then looking at me as if\nawe-struck, he exclaimed,\n\n\"'Can it be that heaven has again employed you, the former messenger\nof its mercies to us, to bring this crowning one to our stricken\nhearts and desolated hearth? It is not possible! It must be some wild\ndream!' and he passed his hand over his head as if bewildered. As he\nsaid it, I drew him gently to the door of the bedroom, opened it, and\nrushed out of the room. I could not stay to witness that meeting,\nand I knew that the father would wish to be alone with his recovered\ntreasures.\n\n\"After some time I went back to the happy group, but it was\nlong before we could speak. Such joy seemed too sacred for the\ninterruption of words.\n\n\"When we had sufficiently recovered from the blissful agitation of\nthe scene, we set about concerting measures for breaking the joyful\nnews to Maggie.\n\n\"He decided that he would go home and bring her with him in a double\nwagon--the one he had being single--to accompany me to their home;\npleading my fatigue after my journey as the reason why I did not\ngo with him at once. On the way he was to prepare her for the glad\nmeeting, as well as he could.\n\n\"I will not dwell upon the raptures of the young mother when she\nreceived her children who had 'been dead, but were alive again--had\nbeen _lost_, but were _found_!'--only to remark that she who had\nborne grief so calmly and patiently met the elevation also of this\nsudden transport in the same edifying spirit, and with many soft\nand tender ejaculations of the gratitude with which her heart was\noverflowing.\n\n\"The possibility of their children's escape had never for one\nmoment occurred to the minds of the parents, and in the confusion\nand darkness of the shipwreck scene on the coast their recovery\nwas unnoticed. Their condition, and that of Mr. Ferguson, their\nbeing consequently hurried away so suddenly from the vicinity, and\nremaining so long unconscious, together with the absence of the\nphysician, had prevented any communications of a kind which might\nhave led to the disclosure of their escape.\n\n\"The glad tidings soon spread through all the settlements, and the\nhouse was thronged early and late, with people of high and low\ndegree. Rich and poor, Canadians, emigrants, and 'Americans,' came\nfrom all parts of the country to offer their congratulations--where\ntheir sympathies had before been freely bestowed--over the _Lost and\nFound_.\n\n\"I formed many agreeable acquaintances during the few weeks to which\nI was persuaded to prolong my visit in that part of the country.\n\n\"The vicissitudes of a changeful life--the lapse of forty years,\nduring which I have stood by many graves of my nearest and\ndearest--have not been able to obliterate my fond recollections of\nthe Macphersons, and have served only to engrave more and more deeply\nin my heart the lessons I learned from them, and my conviction that\nthose upon whom God designs to bestow his richest spiritual gifts\nmust go up, as did Moses of old, to 'meet him in the cloud!'\"\n\nWe sat for some time in silence after she closed, and I then asked,\n\n\"Did you ever see or hear from them after your departure?\"\n\n\"Cars ready! Hurry up, ladies and gentlemen! Hurry up!\"\n\nAnd groups of loungers, starting from every direction, hastened\ngladly to take their places and resume their broken journey.\n\nWhen we were again seated in the car, I repeated my question, \"Did\nyou ever see or hear from them again?\"\n\n\"I never saw them again,\" she replied, \"but we kept up a\ncorrespondence for a long time. The example of their lovely and pious\nlives exerted a wide-spread influence in Canada. Some years after the\nevents I have related, a large estate in Scotland was left to them,\nfrom a distant relative, and they returned to that country. Their\ndeparture was deeply deplored by all their neighbors in the land of\ntheir adoption, and I have heard that since their increased means\nthey have been active in advancing every good work, both in their\nCanadian home and in that to which they have returned.\"\n\nI parted with sincere regret from my new friend at Toronto, which was\nthe limit of my excursion.\n\nHer wayside story had so impressed my memory that I indulged my pen\nin transcribing it. If it yields half the interest to others, at\nsecond hand, with which I received it from the actual participant, my\nlabor will be amply rewarded.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CHURCH IN PARIS AND FRANCE.\n\n\nThough France is a Catholic country, the humiliating fact that a\nconsiderable portion of its male population manifests a certain\nreligious apathy, cannot well be disguised. This estrangement from\nthe church is due to various causes, but mainly to the training\nreceived by the youth educated at those public institutions which\nmonopolize the government patronage. The University of Paris largely\ninfluences all the public schools, and its authority extended at one\ntime even over the establishments for bringing up infants. The female\nschools have, for various reasons, formed, to a limited extent, an\nexception, chiefly for the want of lay instructresses, which rendered\nit absolutely necessary to grant to the numerous orders of nuns more\nextensive privileges. The university, originally half Christian and\nhalf deistic, has lately sunk into the lowest materialism. Even\namong the teachers of the elementary schools there are many who have\ndiscarded, more or less openly, the Christian faith, and thereby set\nthe pupils a most pernicious example. The secret and avowed foes of\nreligion preponderate in the educational domain, and it is only with\nthe utmost difficulty that Christians, or even deists, can be found\nfor the different scientific faculties. In other respects, a marked\nimprovement has, however, taken place since 1850, when the church was\nfirst allowed to exercise a more direct influence over the public\nschools, and some of the most obnoxious opponents of Christianity\nwere removed from their educational trusts. Still more beneficial\nhas been the concession of greater school facilities. The public\ninstitutions superintended by religious have doubled in numbers and\nextent, being at present attended by over 1,200,000 girls and 250,000\nboys. In 1854, there were in France 825 private institutions, with\n42,462 pupils, presided over by laymen; and 256 institutions, with\n21,195 pupils, under the charge of religious. In 1865, the number of\nlay institutions amounted to only 657, with 43,007 pupils, while the\nreligious had increased to 278, with 34,897 pupils. While the former\ngained, therefore, within eleven years only 545 pupils, the latter\ngained 13,702. Nor is this all. The schools conducted by laymen have\nadvanced equally in a religious and a scientific point of view, and\nare now no longer so inferior as formerly to those conducted by\nreligious. The decided progress which the church has made in France\nduring the last ten or twelve years is principally owing to the\ngrowth of religious instruction Unfortunately, the university still\nremains unchanged, and many a pious youth is lost when he enters\none of the faculties. It is otherwise with reference to the lyceums\nand colleges, where the religious have secured a greater influence\nover the pupils, though rationalists and sceptics still continue to\nfill some of the chairs. Three years ago, 29,852 pupils attended the\nlyceums, and 32,495 the colleges--a total of 62,347, which shows a\ngain of 19,228 pupils since 1854. This increase is accounted for by\nthe support which these institutions receive from the state. In 1854,\nthe number of lyceums was 53; in 1865, it was 86.\n\nIn about the same period of time, the Brothers of the Christian\nSchools (_Fr\u00e8res de la Doctrine Chreti\u00e8nne_) had founded 864\neducational establishments in France, 16 in the States of the Church,\n13 in Italy, 42 in Belgium, 2 in Switzerland, 2 in Austria, 3 in\nPrussia, 2 in England, 2 in Egypt, 4 in Turkey, 19 in Canada, 29 in\nthe United States, 8 in India, and 2 in Ecuador--making a total of\n1043 establishments with 8822 brothers. This number has multiplied\nsince. In France alone, there are now over 900 establishments and\n6000 brothers. In more recent days, many similar orders have been\norganized, like that founded by Lammenais, the brother of the\napostate priest, which is exclusively intended for the agricultural\neducation of boys, and counts already thirty-odd schools in Brittany.\nFrance has 18,000 male ecclesiastics, and of these the greater half\nare engaged in training the rising generation. Of the 90,000 female\nmembers belonging to the various religious orders, one third are\nemployed in the same way. Out of the whole number of religious, no\nless than 72,000 are computed to devote themselves to education, to\nthe care of the orphans, the sick, and the aged. The pupils, the\norphans, the invalids, the incurables, the helpless, the poor under\nthe charge of the different religious societies and orders number\nover two millions. These are startling figures for a land where the\nchurch had been blotted out of existence eighty years ago, and where\nreligion has ever since had to contend against special legislation,\nunfriendly government, and a whole host of powerful foes, never very\nscrupulous in the choice of their weapons.\n\nAnother cause of the religious apathy is to be found in the\ndesecration of Sunday, which has become very general in France,\nespecially in the larger cities. The revolution suppressed Sunday\nby brute force, and the law has ever since afforded the greatest\npossible latitude to all who were inclined to disregard its\nobligations. Sunday labor came thus to be gradually sanctioned\nby custom and countenanced by law. Under Louis Philippe, the\n_bourgeoisie_ managed to turn this laxity to account, and even\nto this day the work on the public improvements proceeds without\nreference to the festivals of Holy Church or Sundays. At first the\nlaborer, tempted by the offer of higher wages, consented to work\non Sundays for the sake of gain. Now stern necessity compels the\nmajority of laborers to do this, and yet they barely manage to\nsupport life. Once men desecrated the Sunday out of avarice; now they\ndesecrate it to satisfy their hunger. Such is the condition to which\nirreligion has reduced the French working-man. The capitalist who\nintroduced this desecration can, however, afford better than ever to\nrest each day of the week.\n\nThe amount of evil which the desecration of Sunday has sown can\nhardly be conceived. Hundreds and thousands of those honest laborers\nwho flock to Paris and to the great manufacturing centres from the\nprovinces have been morally and physically destroyed by it. Not only\nhas the discharge of all religious obligations become impracticable,\nbut there being no longer a day on which the family finds itself\nunited, every thing like the love of home has been destroyed. The\ntenderest and most holy ties have been broken, the unity of family\ninterests has ceased, and each member of the household has been left\nto pursue his own course. But as the human body requires some rest,\nthe mind some relaxation, so men by way of compensation drink and\ndissipate, which speedily destroys their love for the fireside. On\nSunday afternoons and evenings, the working-men exchange the shop\nonly for the tavern, and they soon learn to find their relaxation\nand amusement there even on week-days. The consequence is, that the\nworking-men have become demoralized; they think of nothing but work,\nor rather of the means by which they may procure that which will\nenable them to minister to their depraved appetites.\n\nIn this manner the wants of these men multiply in an inordinate\ndegree, their minds and tastes are debased, and all their earnings\nsoon cease to suffice for even the most indispensable articles of\nfood and raiment. Those who break the Lord's day, though they seem\nto earn better wages, look wretched, and have rarely a decent coat\nto their backs. If the weather, or some other unforeseen cause,\nprevents them from working, they resort to the tavern and spend there\ntheir Sunday gains. It is notorious that exactly in those work-shops\nwhere the Sunday is habitually ignored, the hands are the most\ndissipated and shiftless. Even from a purely material stand-point the\nnon-observance of Sunday is therefore a fearful social evil which has\nunhappily made serious progress, even in the rural districts, and\nespecially in those immediately surrounding Paris.\n\nThis pagan system of civil legislation interferes very materially\nwith the religious life. The French code robs the father of nearly\nall authority over his grown children; for instance, a son eighteen\nyears of age may legally mortgage half the property which he is to\ninherit, even though it may have been earned by the parent's personal\nindustry. Husband and wife hold their property separately, neither\nbeing liable for the debts of the other. In this way the members of\nthe same family are invested with such widely diverging rights that\nthey can have no interests in common. The effect of this arrangement\nupon the domestic relations, upon the harmony, unity, and morals of\nthe family will be readily conceived. It is therefore to be regarded\nat once as a wonder and a proof of the power of the Catholic Church\nthat there should still exist so many exemplary households in France.\n\nWretchedness in all its forms naturally goes hand in hand with these\nfalse principles of legislation. Thanks to the boasted progress of\nmodern days, there is more suffering and misery in Paris than in any\nother city on the continent of Europe. Those who speak from personal\nobservation of the social condition in Berlin, Vienna, and Paris,\nacknowledge that pauperism is most gigantic in the latter capital. In\nthe year 1866, Paris contained 1,791,980 inhabitants, of whom 105,119\nwere paupers, or 40,644 families who received aid from the municipal\nauthorities. This gives one pauper to every seventeen inhabitants;\nbut the number of destitute who stand in need of help is at least as\nlarge again. The Conferences of St. Vincent de Paul, the many other\ncharitable societies, and the pastors, support and succor quite as\nmany more families, the greater portion of whom are also dependent on\nthe public. And with all this, most societies are compelled to turn\naway nearly as many destitute as they can relieve. It is therefore\nnot too much to assume that one tenth of the Parisians are reduced\nto the verge of absolute poverty. And how inadequate, at the best,\nis the relief doled out by the municipality to the poor! A couple of\npounds of bread each week, a few cast-off garments, occasionally some\nbedding, is about all which a family can usually expect to receive\nfrom this source. In 1866, the city disbursed, by way of relief, four\nmillions of francs among 40,644 families, which gives forty-eight\nfrancs and sixty-five centimes per year for each family, or eighteen\nfrancs and sixty-five centimes per head. But it should be borne in\nmind that bread sells at one fourth of a franc per pound, which shows\nhow insignificant the relief is which the otherwise so extravagant\nParis municipality bestows on its destitute. And it should be further\nremembered that a family has to pay an average annual rental of one\nhundred and forty-one francs and twenty-five centimes--which average\nwas only one hundred and thirteen francs and forty-five centimes\nprior to the year 1860. These statistics sufficiently demonstrate the\ngrave importance which the solution of the social problem threatens\nto assume in France.\n\nBut there is at least an equally large number of families who,\nthough they may not be regular applicants for municipal and other\ncharity, are yet unable to get on without undergoing greater or less\nprivations and self-denials. It can hardly be believed how much\nthis wide-spread distress tends to the demoralization of the poor.\nWithout education, without intellectual incentive, without religious\nconsolation, and even without a day of rest; constantly fighting for\nbare existence; weighed down by bodily suffering, the better feelings\nof these unfortunates have become so blunted that they think only of\ngratifying their unceasing, never quite satisfied material wants. The\ndisuse of the Sunday solemnities has weaned them even from bestowing\na proper care on their persons. They rarely possess any other dress\nthan the one worn in the work-shop. Still worse, if possible, is the\nstate of the quarters, or holes, in which they are domiciled. Besides\na wretched couch, an old table, some broken chairs and crockery,\none meets there nothing but filth and offensive odors. Parents and\nchildren sleep in one close room; the children run wild in the\nstreets, and thus deteriorate morally and mentally before they perish\nphysically.\n\nSuch an element of the population can only be redeemed morally and\nreligiously by relief of their material misery. No amelioration of\ntheir condition is otherwise possible. Wherever the church desires\nto interfere, she must be prepared with material aid--must send\nthe Sister of Mercy as well as the priest. A sort of brutishness\nhas been engrafted on this pauperism, and until it is eliminated\nno improvement can be seriously attempted. When modern science,\ntherefore, represents man as a purely animal organism, the conclusion\nis perhaps not so very illogical after all. By systematically\ndegrading the disinherited working classes into a race of human\nbeings inferior in many essential features to the savage, modern\npolitical economy has to a certain extent furnished this theory with\nan illustration. The savage still experiences the necessity of\nprayer, a want which the modern proletarian has long ceased to feel;\nthe religious necessity is either dulled or destroyed in him, because\nthe religious sentiment has been torn from his heart. For this reason\nalso the reconciliation of the proletarian with Christianity is\nfrequently surrounded by far greater difficulties than the conversion\nof the downright heathen. The Christian, corrupted by our so-called\nprogress, stands perhaps lowest in the scale of humanity.\n\nOn the other hand, the craving for sensual indulgences seems to\nhave become so general among the higher class of working-men that\nthere are few who lead a well-regulated, frugal, quiet life. It is,\nno doubt, difficult to resist the manifold temptations which Paris\npresents, and which are intensified by the frequent financial and\nindustrial revulsions. All the more remunerative trades are subject\nto periods of stagnation, during which numbers of operatives are\nthrown out of employment, or work only half-time. The self-denial\nwhich they have then to practise leads them afterward to make up\nfor it by dissipation, and they thus contract habits which end in\nruin. Here we see again, and most distinctly in Paris, what immense\ninfluence a nation's political economy exerts on its religious and\nmoral character. Nowhere are the fruits of the mischief committed\nby the politico-economical theories now ascendant in France to be\nobserved more plainly than in the metropolis, a city in which at\nleast one half of the population, if not permanently in want, are\ncertainly always in danger of it.\n\nUnder these circumstances, it is all the more cheering that so large\na number of working-men's families should have preserved their\nChristian faith and still attend to their religious duties. A more\nthan ordinary amount of virtue and self-denial is required for it,\nand those who practise them amidst the vicissitudes of life are truly\nnoble souls. Yet there exist many such even among the poorest and\nlowliest. Another guarantee of a brighter future is that nearly all\nworking-men appear fully convinced of the necessity of an education,\nand that they therefore rarely object to having their children\ninstructed. Even the most irreligious among them manifest an implicit\nconfidence in the clergy, and prefer to have their children attend\nthe schools controlled by the religious. Though pretending to care\nnothing for the church themselves, they deem religion an excellent\nthing for their families. With the steady improvement in the system\nof popular education, and with the diffusion of schools superintended\nby the church, a corresponding advance in the religious and moral\ncondition of the masses may be expected, and is indeed already\napparent. There are in Paris 53 schools for boys attended by 17,360\npupils, which are managed by the different religious orders, and 63\nschools for boys attended by 16,750 pupils, conducted by laymen. Of\nthe schools for girls 68, with 19,720 pupils, are controlled by the\nsisters, and 57, with 12,630, by lay instructresses. The elementary\nProtestant establishments are included in the above figures. A\nsimilar ratio exists between the intermediate and the higher schools.\n\nTo form an adequate idea of the superior advantages which the\ndifferent religious orders possess as educators, it should be known\nthat, while the city of Paris pays its elementary lay teachers yearly\nfrom 2000 fr. to 3000 fr. salary, besides giving them lodgings and a\nretiring pension, the brothers have only 950 fr., lodgings, but no\npension. The female lay teachers, mostly single, receive from 1800\nfr. to 2400 fr. per annum, while the sisters have only 800 fr. In\nthis comparison we made no mention of the difference in the expense\nof the lodgings, which is much larger in the case of laymen, most of\nwhom have families. The city of Paris could therefore well afford,\nwithout incurring the reproach of any especial extravagance, to\npresent the church with a large piece of ground and a sum of money\nfor a building where the superannuated brothers could pass the rest\nof their days. The evening classes for adults, which have been opened\nunder the auspices of the church, are quite a success.\n\nThe chair rent exacted in the French churches is no doubt a\ndisadvantage to religion; for it always thins the audience more or\nless. Though the sum collected is a trifle, and especially when we\nconsider the recklessness with which the Parisians spend their money,\nmany good and thoughtful men object to the practice on principle.\nIndeed, the tide of popular opinion seems set against the tax, and\nit certainly suggests to the sceptic an unpleasant parallel between\nthe theatre and the sanctuary. Those who cannot afford the expense of\nhiring a chair during the service must stand up, or kneel, or occupy\none of the benches fastened to the walls. The poor man goes, however,\nto church to forget the outside world. And yet it is there, in the\nvery place where all should be equal, where rich and poor, high and\nlow, should be esteemed alike, that his poverty is thrust into his\nface, that he is again reminded of the difference between him and his\nmore fortunate fellows. There are many so extremely poor in Paris\nthat even a few sous are an object to them. This explains why the few\nmission churches, in which no charge is made for chairs, attract\nsuch large crowds, principally composed of working-men, who are\notherwise rarely, if ever, seen at worship. On this account, several\nof the parish churches in Paris have lately been so arranged that no\nrent is exacted. To do away with the system entirely is, however,\nnot feasible at once. Some provision will first have to be made to\nreplace the considerable revenue which accrues from this source not\nonly to the parishes, but also to the dioceses. If the obstacles in\nthe way to the acquisition of property by the church, the acceptance\nof legacies, and the accumulation of means from similar sources,\nwere less formidable, this reform might perhaps be introduced in a\ncomparatively brief period. But owing to legislative restrictions,\nbequests and other love-gifts can only be accepted by the church\nafter long-protracted and expensive proceedings ingeniously invented\nfor the benefit of the bureaucratic hierarchy. Had Napoleon III.,\ninstead of spending many hundreds of millions on the metamorphosis of\nhis capital, devoted only one hundred millions to the erection of a\ndozen large parish churches and the endowment of the rest, he might\nhave obtained a more substantial guarantee for the preservation of\nhis throne and dynasty than the strategic streets which now traverse\nParis. At any rate, this much is certain: with the abolition of\nchair-rent in the churches the attendance at divine service, and\nconsequently the religious sentiment, might be greatly stimulated. It\nis also to be hoped that juster views in relation to the restoration\nof the sanctity of Sunday may obtain the ascendency in due time. As\nregards the latter subject, the example set by the government in\nsuspending hereafter all public works on holidays and Sundays would\nof itself have a very happy influence on the national morality.\n\nInasmuch as the church chairs are rented to families and paid for\nyearly or half-yearly, this evil is less glaring in the provinces.\nThe wealthier parishioners there usually try to secure places in\nfront, often at high rents, which renders it possible to let the\nremainder more cheaply, sometimes at mere nominal prices, to the\npoorer classes.\n\nWhat we have stated above applies, in many respects, equally to the\nlarger provincial cities, among which Lyons, Marseilles, Nantes,\nand Toulouse deserve special mention for their religious zeal. Nor\nare Rouen, Strasbourg, Bordeaux, Lille, and Metz indifferent to\nthe success of the church. The other large and small cities may be\njudged according to the state of their respective provinces. One\nthing may, however, be safely depended upon, namely, that every\ncity contains a circle of laymen which sets a praiseworthy example\nin religious conduct and social Christian deportment. The women\ncling, nearly everywhere, with deeper devotion to the church than\nthe men, and in the provinces even more than in Paris. The most\ndevout of spirit are the German provinces, Alsace, Lothringen, and\nFlanders, as well as Brittany, Auvergne, Limouisin, Dauphin\u00e9, and the\nprovinces south and west, where most if not all the adults fulfil the\nprecept of Easter communion. Least devout are perhaps the provinces\nin the vicinity of Paris, Normandy, Champagne, Picardie, Orleans,\ndown into the very heart of France, as far as Tours and Bourges.\nWithin a radius of about sixty miles from Paris, the condition of\nthe villages is truly deplorable, and in the towns, the religious\nsentiment is only very slowly awakened. There are localities where\nSunday is even more habitually disregarded than at the capital; and\nif the men go occasionally to church, they rarely partake of the Holy\nSacrament. This state of things is, however, an exceptional one, and\nespecially in the villages near Paris which send their vegetables,\nflowers, fruits, and other produce to market. The daily contact of\nthe peasantry with metropolitan life has had a bad effect on their\nmorals. At these points the church is chiefly attended by Parisians\nwho spend a portion of the year at their villas.\n\nBut while we feel constrained to admit that there is a great deal\nof religious indifference among the male population, it is pleasant\nto feel justified in saying that France is able to boast of a large\nbody of ecclesiastics whose zeal and piety must command the genuine\nadmiration of the Catholic world. In the year 1865, there were only\n837 vacancies in the 31,388 parishes into which France is divided.\nThe budget for 1869 appropriates salaries for the incumbents of 106\nnew parishes, and 50 new vicarages. The ecclesiastics in France\nnumber 45,000--a very high percentage in a population of thirty-eight\nmillions, of whom about a million are non-Catholics. At the same\ntime, the pay is very small. Not half the parish priests have an\nincome exceeding 1500 francs per annum, while several thousands have\nno more than 1200, (two hundred and forty dollars in gold.) Only the\nincumbents of the comparatively few parishes of the first and second\nclasses--numbering little above 3000 all told--have an addition of\nfrom 1200 to 1500 francs yearly from the state. The income of the\ncanons varies from 1600 to 1800 francs, rarely reaching 2400, and\nthis leaves them partly dependent on mass stipends and casuals.\nMany bishops are obliged to make extra allowances out of their own\npockets to the canons of their cathedrals. The archbishops, who\nare also senators and cardinals with extra pay attached to these\ndignities, enjoy large revenues, ranging from 120,000 to 150,000\nfrancs, all of which they sorely need. Mons. Morlot, the late\nCardinal Archbishop of Paris, imperial land almonier and peer of\nFrance, had an annual income of 230,000 francs. Of this sum he had,\nhowever, set aside from the beginning 30,000 francs for distribution\namong the Paris poor. Although this estimable prince of the church\nenjoyed his income for several years, he left not enough at his\ndeath to bury him, and the expenses of his funeral had to be paid by\nthe emperor. The demands on the purses of these high ecclesiastics\nare so heavy that they are constrained to practise the most rigid\neconomy, unless they possess independent fortunes. The household of a\nFrench bishop or archbishop usually consists of a private secretary,\na coachman, a man-servant, and a cook, who is generally the wife of\nthe coachman or servant. His house, furniture, carriage, are all of\nthe plainest description. A bishop does not entertain what is called\ncompany. On special occasions he may invite some clergymen to his\ntable, but nothing more. If business calls him to Paris, or some\nother place outside of his diocese, he takes his secretary with him,\nand puts up at one of those quiet hotels patronized by religious.\nWhen away from home, he always appears in public either on foot or\nin some hired conveyance. Now and then he accepts an invitation\nfrom some Christian family, and calls on Catholic laymen who have\nattested their zeal by word or deed. The most distinguished prelates\noften love to surprise the offices of the Parisian journals, such\nas the _Monde_ and the _Univers_, by a visit, when they request\nthe different writers to be presented to them, throw out valuable\nsuggestions, and converse with the greatest freedom and _bonhomie_.\nThis cordial intercourse between bishops, priests, and laymen\nhas contributed no little toward the glory of the church and the\nefficiency of the Catholic press. Except in the sanctuary itself, the\nCatholic Church in France is utterly devoid of pomp and splendor,\nand by far the largest part of her resources is set aside for the\nmaintenance of numerous educational, charitable, and other benevolent\nestablishments, at which it may be interesting in this connection to\ncast here a brief glance.\n\nFirst in importance and influence are the Conferences of St. Vincent\nde Paul, founded at Paris in the beginning of the third decade of the\npresent century. In the metropolis alone are eighty odd conferences,\none for each parish, besides some national and special ones connected\nwith various other religious institutions and associations. Among\nthe national conferences may be instanced a Polish, a Flemish, an\nItalian, an English, and two German. The most prominent of the\nspecial conferences are the Cercle du Luxembourg, formed by the\nCatholic students, and the Cercle de la Jeunesse, formed by the\nyouth of the higher schools. The total number of members is probably\nover 4000. In addition to this, many other religious associations\nhave been directly and indirectly promoted by the Conferences of\nSt. Vincent de Paul: for instance, the patronages for promoting\nthe physical and spiritual welfare of apprentices; the work-shops\nfor young girls belonging to the working classes, who are not\nonly furnished with employment, but instructed in their religious\nduties; the society for the relief of the Faubourgs, managed by\nwomen whose object is the education of the children of laboring\npeople who reside in the wretched hovels of the remoter suburbs.\nThe Soci\u00e9t\u00e9 Maternelle, established in 1788, which has in every\nquarter of the city its female agent to relieve working-women who\ncannot afford to remain at home to nurse their infants. This society\nexpends over 60,000 francs a year, and relieves nearly a thousand\nmothers. A similar society is that of the Cr\u00e8ches, where infants\nunder three years of age are taken care of while their mothers earn\ntheir daily bread. One of the greatest evils of our modern system\nof economy is the compulsory labor of females. There are in Paris\n106,300 working-women who earn on an average only 1 franc and 10\ncentimes per day, (twenty-two cents in gold,) and have to support a\nfamily on this pittance. Very excellent institutions are the Salles\nd'Asiles, play-schools for children aged from two to six years, which\nalready number over 4000 in France, and are attended by hundreds\nand thousands of children. The Child's Friend Society is designed\nto save those children who are in danger of being demoralized by\nthe evil example of their parents. The Soci\u00e9t\u00e9 de St. Fran\u00e7ois\nRegis aims to counteract the illicit relations but too frequently\nentered into between the opposite sexes. It labors to supply the\npoor who flock to the capital from every part of the provinces with\nthe documents which the law requires for the solemnization of a\nlegal marriage. The advocates of the civil marriage contract may\nlearn from this the beauties of the system which they praise so\nhighly. Nothing can be more expensive, troublesome, or attended with\ngreater loss of time, than the legalization of the different papers\nrequired to be produced before a marriage can be ratified by the\ncivil authorities. On the other hand, the church exacts only a few\nand simple formalities to unite a pair in the bonds of holy wedlock.\nThis society was founded in 1826, and in 1866 it brought about the\nmarriages of no less than 43,256 couples, who had previously lived\ntogether without being married.\n\nParis contains fifty-eight nunneries, the greater part of which make\nthe education of the young and the care of the infirm and the aged\ntheir main occupation. The nuns also tend the sick in twenty-four\nout of the thirty-six public hospitals in Paris. An order of more\nmodern origin, but one that has already accomplished much good, is\nthat of the Sisters of St. Paul, for the blind of their own sex.\nMost of its members are blind themselves; but their proficiency in\nall domestic employments is such that their pupils are taught to\nexcel in them. The founder of this order, a Parisian widow, has done\nfor this class of the afflicted what the famous Abb\u00e9 de l'Gr\u00e9e has\ndone for the deaf and dumb. The sisters are principally taken from\nthe ranks of the pupils who cannot be otherwise provided for. This\ninstitution is already self-supporting. The Little Sisters of the\nPoor, founded in 1840, at St. Servan, near St. Malo, in Brittany,\nhave in Paris alone five large establishments with 1700 sisters,\nwhere they support in comfort 11,006 aged poor. Its members solicit\nbroken victuals in the kitchens of the rich, and unsold vegetables\nfrom the market-hucksters, which they take home in small carts drawn\nby donkeys. They also take up collections on stated days at the\ndoors of the churches. Not content with constituting themselves the\nguardians of the helpless, they also relieve them of the trouble and\nhumiliation of soliciting alms. Is not this conduct worthy of the\nbest days of Christianity? Though not yet quite thirty years old,\nthe Little Sisters of the Poor are already widely known and honored.\nRecruited at first from the lowest classes of society, many women\nof the higher have latterly joined the order, though the majority\nof the sisters are still working-women and servant-girls. We would\nhere incidentally remark that the French servant-girls rank far above\nthose of the other continental countries in a moral and religious\npoint of view. This is mainly due to the strictness with which good\nbehavior and chastity are enforced in all French households, where no\npromiscuous intercourse between the sexes is countenanced. However\nindifferent master and mistress may themselves be to religion, they\nnevertheless invariably insist that their servants should be regular\ncommunicants and church-goers. The status of the female domestics\nis therefore higher than that of the average working-woman, whose\nindependence of control but too often proves her ruin. This also\nexplains why servant-girls should be so much more eagerly sought in\nmarriage than working-girls. In France, the domestic, and especially\nthe female one, is treated almost as a member of the family. The\ndifference between master and servant is not so marked, and the\nresult is that the latter has more self-respect and pride. Indeed,\nthe manner in which servants are treated by their employers in France\nis a highly creditable feature in the national character.\n\nBut to return to the religious and other societies. A very useful\nassociation is a woman's society founded by a dozen ladies, \"Invalid\nWorking-Woman's Aid Society,\" which numbers in 27 parishes 600\nmembers, and cordially co-operates with the sisters of St. Vincent\nde Paul in visiting and tending the sick in their own habitations. In\n1865, its members had paid 158,368 sick calls to 52,748 sufferers.\nAnother female society attends the sick poor in the public hospitals,\nand seeks to assist feeble convalescent girls and boys in procuring\nemployment. \"The Church Aid Society\" furnishes churches destitute\nof means with vestments worked by the hands of its members. Still\nanother society of women keeps on hand stocks of clothing for the\nneedy, its members sewing for this purpose several hours each day.\nOne society has set itself the laudable task of returning to their\nrelatives and friends the destitute and forsaken orphans who have\ncome with their families to the city from the provinces. Several\norphan schools have been opened for the same purpose by laymen and\nthe rural clergy in different parts of France. Many of the orders\nlabor to a similar end, especially that of the Trappists, who own\nnow twenty-two extensive agricultural settlements, mostly in France,\nsome of them with a hundred brothers. Some of the most barren and\nunhealthy districts were taken in hand by the Trappists, and the\nresults which they there achieved are really marvellous. At the abbey\nof Staoueli, in Algeria, they fed during the last famine 600 Arabs a\nday for several months, without materially lessening the provisions\nsent for sale to the markets. Though the brothers work from ten to\ntwelve hours daily, besides devoting several hours at night to their\nreligious duties, they eat nothing but bread, (1-1/2 lbs. per diem,)\nvegetables seasoned with salt, and drink only water. The Bernhardines\nalso follow agriculture; but their rules are less severe, for they\nare permitted to use milk, fish, and a little wine. Four flourishing\nsettlements have been established by this order in the most sterile\ndistricts of Southern France. The Brothers of the Holy Ghost (Fr\u00e8res\ndu Saint Esprit) make foreign missionary enterprises and the\namelioration of the condition of the convicts their specialty. The\nBrothers of St. Joseph educate the deaf and dumb, and the Brothers\nof St. Gabriel vagrant boys. The Oeuvre des Campagnes is a society\nwhich strives to provide for the spiritual and material wants of\nthe poorer rural parishes. Its main object is to awaken the dormant\nreligious feelings by popular missions, devotional works, etc.\nSeveral societies have been organized in Paris and the provinces for\nthe better observance of Sunday. The societies called \"Reunion of the\nHoly Family\" consist of the poor who meet on Sundays in chapels and\nhalls for mutual instruction and prayers. A special society under the\npatronage of St. Michael has charged itself with the distribution of\npious publications, tracts, etc. The colossal missionary enterprise\nof France is well known. No nation furnishes so many missionaries,\ngives such large contributions as the French, a people among whom a\ncentury ago the Catholic religion was, during several years, formally\nabolished. Of the 8000 missionaries distributed over the globe\nmore than one third are Frenchmen. The Lyons-Paris Society for the\nPropagation of the Faith extends all over the earth, and possessed in\n1867 an income of 5,149,918 fr., of which sum 3,582,659 fr. had been\ncollected in French dioceses. During the preceding year the Society\nof the Holy Infancy could afford to disburse 1,603,200 fr. for 59\nmissions supported by it alone. It has baptized 383,206 children, and\neducated 41,226 more.\n\nA separate mission exists for the Holy Land and the Orient,\n(_Oeuvre des Ecoles d'Orient_.) The society mainly applies itself\nto supplying the missions established in these regions by the\nFranciscans and Lazarists with money and other aid. The return of the\nNestorians, Armenians, and other eastern schismatics to the bosom of\nthe mother church is one of its principal objects, and has already\nmade considerable progress.\n\nIt must seem almost incredible that the greater number of these\nbenevolent and religious societies should enjoy no fixed or only very\ninadequate revenues. Yet such is actually the fact. Except their\nbuildings, many of which are heavily mortgaged, very few of the\nsocieties have any property or capital. Under these circumstances\nit naturally requires the most untiring exertions and the closest\neconomy to sustain themselves. Aside from the regular collections in\nthe churches, these organizations are mainly dependent on the charity\nsermons, by which funds are raised, as well as on the lotteries\nand bazaars gotten up for religious and charitable purposes. We\nsee therefore that they have had a severe struggle for existence.\nThe church is the only institution in France which can never be\ncentralized, and the future belongs for this reason all the more\nsurely to her.\n\nThese results show the great and many-sided activity of the French\nCatholics. There is no known ailing or misery, no human evil, caused\nby our short-sighted legislation or social policy, which is not met\nand alleviated by the church and her servants. These efforts may\nnot be crowned with the desired success in all instances; but when\nwe consider the opposition which every religious project encounters\nin France, it must be confessed that the church has accomplished\nmore in that country than in any other. Nor should it be forgotten\nthat this is largely owing to a fact which neither the sophistries\nof modern scepticism nor the equality of all denominations under\nthe constitution of the empire can do away with, namely, that the\nCatholic Church still remains the national one. For the same reason\nwe venture to predict that the occurrence of any extraordinary\nevents, of any great public calamity, would rather tend to promote\nthan retard the growth of the religious sentiment among the masses.\nIt is a remarkable circumstance that in times of national distress\nand suffering, the attachment to the church is strengthened.\nNever were the sanctuaries so crowded as during the disturbances\nof 1848 and 1849. How many of those who had until then worked for\nthe overthrow of church and state were not converted when they saw\nwhither their principles led them? Will this not again be the case at\nthe next revolution? It often requires such violent shocks to check\nthe baneful passions and to open the eyes of the people.\n\n\n\n\nTHE TOTAL ECLIPSE OF AUGUST SEVENTH.\n\n\nThe recent solar discoveries, of which mention has been made in past\nnumbers of this magazine, have on the whole increased the interest\nattached to the observation of eclipses, though in some respects\nthe importance of these phenomena as opportunities of extending our\nknowledge of the constitution of the sun has been diminished. It\nwill be remembered that immediately after the total eclipse of last\nyear in India, it was found that the great prominences on the rim of\nthe sun which are never seen with any ordinary appliances, except on\nthese occasions, could be observed at any time with the spectroscope,\nand that by means of this admirable instrument their shape as well\nas the spectral lines indicating their chemical composition could be\ndetermined; and since that time many observations of them have been\nmade, and interesting conclusions arrived at on both these points, as\nstated in the article translated in the last number. The principal\nones as yet established with certainty are, that they are gaseous,\nand mainly composed of hydrogen, and that they change their shape\nwith astonishing rapidity, some of their particles perhaps moving\nwith the inconceivable velocity of one hundred miles a second. At any\nrate, immensely energetic forces and rapid movements must be required\nto change essentially the shape and position of these masses--which\noften have ten times the diameter, or a thousand times the volume of\nthe earth--in a quarter of an hour.\n\nSo we are not now obliged to wait a year or more and travel several\nthousand miles to observe for a few minutes these peculiar and still\nsomewhat mysterious bodies; still, it does not follow that they\ncannot be better examined at the time of an eclipse, or that new\nappearances may not be noticed on such occasions, now that we are\naccustomed to these, from which the other more startling phenomena\nfor a long time diverted attention. Success has excited hope of yet\ngreater successes; and eclipses, though affording but a short time\nfor actual observation, are undoubtedly the best occasions for the\nobserver to learn in what direction his labors should be turned.\nThere are also other things, such as the corona, Baily's beads,\npossible new planets inside of the orbit of Mercury, etc., which can\nonly be seen at these times.\n\nThe eclipse of this year, therefore, was by no means neglected by the\nscientific men of the United States; in fact, it was felt that the\nreputation of the country depended upon the skill shown in preparing\nfor and in observing it, and a large number of parties were formed,\nto be stationed at various points of the path of the moon's shadow\nor line of totality, so that if clouds should prevent success at one\nplace, it might be obtained at another.\n\nThe first point touched by the shadow proper, and at which\nconsequently a total eclipse occurred, was in longitude 165\u00b0 west\nfrom Washington, latitude 53\u00b0 north, being in Siberia; the last, in\nlongitude 10\u00b0 east, latitude 31\u00b0 north, being off the coast of North\nCarolina. At the former the sun rose totally obscured at half-past\nfour, at the latter it set in that condition, at a quarter to seven;\nand at the intermediate points the eclipse took place at all the\nintermediate hours of the day. It is rather singular that, owing to\nthe necessary skip of a day in going round the world, it was _Sunday_\nmorning in Siberia, but _Saturday_ afternoon in the United States;\nso that the eclipse may be said to have been one of the longest on\nrecord. Its actual duration was, however quite short, half-past four\nA.M. in Siberia, and a quarter to seven P.M. at the ending point,\nbeing about four and half-past six P.M. respectively in New York;\ngiving an interval of two and a half hours in which the shadow\npassed over the long line connecting these points, which it will be\nperceived are nearly opposite in longitude.\n\nIf it had travelled by the shortest route, it would have passed\nwithin three degrees of the north pole, and the eclipse would have\nbeen invisible in this country; but, fortunately, it lengthened\nits course, reaching its highest latitude near Behring's Straits,\nwhich it crossed, and then swept to the south-east, crossing the\nterritories of Montana and Dakota, and the States of Minnesota, Iowa,\nIllinois, Indiana, Kentucky, Tennessee, Virginia, and North Carolina.\nIt could hardly have taken a better route for us.\n\nThe length of the line was over seven thousand miles, and the\nconsequent average velocity in passing over it about fifty miles\na minute, though in the United States it exceeded that amount\nconsiderably. The breadth of the belt traversed was somewhat\nvariable; in this country it was about one hundred and fifty miles.\nOf course, the sun was partially hidden by the moon over a very large\nportion of the globe; but the region from which its light was at any\ntime completely excluded was comparatively quite small.\n\nObservers stationed themselves at numerous points, even as far west\nas Alaska and Siberia; but of course most chose positions within\nthe United States. The writer was connected with a party which was\nestablished at Shelbyville, Kentucky.\n\nThe general diffusion of intelligence, both subjective and objective,\nas we may say, had of course excited great interest in the eclipse\namong the people, especially in that part of the country actually\nwithin or bordering upon the limits of totality; and though, of\ncourse, the nature of the expected event was fully understood by all\nthe educated portion of the community, and by many of the uneducated,\nstill there were some, especially in the rural districts, who\nvaguely apprehended some great event, to be probably of a disastrous\nnature, (a hailstorm was the most popular;) and perhaps were as much\nterrified in anticipation as any entirely ignorant people have ever\nbeen at the actual occurrence of this most impressive and sublime\nspectacle.\n\nOf course, excursions were planned by railroad companies and others\nto points on the line of the shadow, the usual directions for\nobserving were extensively circulated, and the eclipse was made the\ncatch-word for many advertisements whose substance had no connection\nwith it. We are afraid that many persons may have lost the most\nbeautiful features of the scene by a too persistent use of smoked\nglass, which of course was not necessary during or even near the time\nof the total obscuration.\n\nThe weather for some days previous was not very promising--not\non account of too much rain, but owing to the absence of it; and\nevery evening the sun set in a bank of haze, which each day seemed\nto increase, and no storm occurred to clear the air of the burden\naccumulated by the drought. This was particularly unpromising for the\nphotographers, who needed really clear air for good work; the times\nof beginning and ending, to which, formerly, great importance was\nattached, could probably have been observed nearly or quite as well\nthrough haze, or even thin cloud.\n\nWe have just implied that less consequence is now attached to\nthe time observations than was formerly the case; this is due to\nthe great perfection which the lunar and solar theories have now\nattained, which is such that the prediction of the positions of the\nsun and moon, and even of the beginning and ending of an eclipse, can\nbe made with greater accuracy, perhaps, than almost any one observer\ncould note them. Still, by combination of all the results, some\nslight corrections to the tables now used may perhaps be deduced, and\non the present occasion this portion of the work was not disregarded,\nbut provided for with all the appliances of modern science.\n\nThe recording of time is now usually made by the electric method,\nwhich may be here described briefly, though many are probably\nfamiliar with it. The principle is the following, subject to\nvarious modifications in the particular form of apparatus: A line\nis described by a pen made to move uniformly over the paper by\nmeans of clock-work. That this line may be indefinitely prolonged\nwithout retracing, it is usual to make it a spiral round a horizontal\ncylinder, which revolves, say, once a minute, while the marking-pen\n(otherwise stationary) moves slowly from one end of the cylinder to\nthe other, perhaps requiring several hours for the complete passage.\n\nThe pen making this line is held in its place by the action of\nan electro-magnet pulling against a spring; the circuit through\nthis magnet is broken every second by the escapement of a clock\nor chronometer; the magnet then for an instant ceases to act,\nand the spring pulls the pen aside, making a break in the line\nat regular intervals corresponding to every second of time. The\nsame interruption of the circuit can also be made by an observer\nprovided with a key like those used by telegraph operators, and the\ntime of his observation thus registered on the chronograph, as the\ninstrument is called. For identification of the clock-mark preceding\nhis observation, mechanical arrangements can easily be devised, by\nwhich the first second in each minute shall be omitted, the circuit\nnot being broken; so that it will be known what second of every\nminute each mark corresponds to; and the fraction of the second\nelapsed from this clock-mark to his own can easily be estimated by\nthe eye, or measured more carefully. The reading of the record is,\nof course, facilitated by having the cylinder revolve once a minute,\nso that all the clock-marks answering to any particular second (as\nthe twenty-third, for example, of each minute) will come in the same\nhorizontal row; and the marks are not made on the cylinder itself,\nbut on a sheet of paper fastened round it, which can be detached when\nfilled.\n\nInstruments of this character were used at Shelbyville, and also\nat the border stations near the edge of the path of the shadow,\nbut inside of it, one of which was at Falmouth, about thirty miles\nsouth of Cincinnati, the other at Oakland, near the Mammoth Cave.\nThe observations of time were especially important at these places,\nsince, as will readily be seen, the length of time required for a\ncircular or elliptical shadow to pass a point near its edge will vary\nvery rapidly for a slight change in the size of the shadow, or a\nslight shifting of its path toward or from the point selected. Even\nrough observations, merely of the duration of the eclipse, made at\ntwo such stations on opposite sides of the central line, suffice to\ndetermine with great accuracy the dimensions and precise track of the\nshadow, and thus give the elements of the moon's motion.\n\nWe have just spoken of the shadow as being elliptical; this was of\ncourse the case, the sun being quite low at the time, so that the\nround cone of darkness, technically known as the umbra, was cut very\nobliquely at the earth's surface. To realize the amount of this\nellipticity or distortion, one would only need to hold some spherical\nbody so as to cast a shadow on the ground about an hour and a half\nbefore sunset. The elongation was also continually increasing as the\nsun sunk toward the horizon, and its direction changed as the sun\nat the same time changed its direction or bearing, the longer axis\nof the ellipse always pointing toward the sun. This axis was, in\nKentucky, about three hundred miles long; the shorter ninety; and\nthis elliptical patch of darkness was moving in a course some thirty\ndegrees south of east, or about twenty-three degrees south of its own\nlonger diameter; its speed was about seventy-five miles a minute, or\nmore than the average on the whole track, as before stated, and it\nrequired rather less than three minutes to pass any given point on\nthe central line; this was consequently the duration of the totality;\nand short enough it certainly was, for the amount of work which was\nto be done by the observers.\n\nFor the stations on or near the central line, it was important to\nobtain the absolute times of the contacts, and for this purpose\ntransits were observed, to get the error and rate of the chronometer,\nfor some time before and after the eclipse. The border observations\nlocate the path on which the shadow travels, and determine its\nbreadth; but to obtain the position of the shadow on this path at\nany fixed time, the true times of its arrival and departure at fixed\npoints must be observed. But on the border no such preparations were\nnecessary, only the interval being required; and a simple pendulum,\nwithout clock-work, was set up for this purpose, which broke the\ncircuit at each second, and thus left its record, serving to count\nthe number of seconds and the fraction between the beginning and end\nof the totality, which were observed and similarly recorded by means\nof a break-circuit key. This pendulum was so arranged as to break the\ncircuit on the main telegraph line, and thus to be heard, and record\nits beats at a number of stations in different towns; but the main\ncircuit did not itself mark upon the registers used by the observers,\nbut mechanically (by means of what is called a relay magnet) broke\nshort circuits set up at their stations, which could also be broken\nin another place by their own keys, without, of course, interfering\nwith the main circuit itself; so that every observer could receive\nthe pendulum beats upon his own record, without receiving those made\nby observers at other stations.\n\nOn Thursday afternoon, the 5th of August, some showers occurred,\nbut not sufficient, according to ordinary experience, to have much\neffect in clearing the atmosphere; and on Friday morning the sky\nbecame overcast with mackerel clouds of a most unpromising character.\nAll the preparations were, however, hopefully continued, and the\nphotographer, Mr. Whipple, of Boston, took on that day some very\nsuccessful views of Shelbyville, of the college buildings, and of the\nparty of observers. The principal station had been established in the\ngrounds of the college, the instruments being protected by a large\ntent; close by was the Coast Survey station, where the chronographs\njust described for recording time, as well as a transit instrument\nfor observing it, had been placed.\n\nFriday evening was cloudy at Shelbyville, but without rain, and the\nchance seemed to be gradually diminishing of any thing like a good\nobservation of the eclipse.\n\nThe plans for photographing the successive phases were most perfect.\nThe movement of the sun from east to west of course made it necessary\nthat the plate should also move correspondingly, but this was\nreadily accomplished by connecting it with a telescope mounted on\nan axis parallel to the earth's equator, which axis is itself fixed\nto another at right angles to it, or parallel to that of the earth;\nthis second axis being turned by clock-work once in twenty-four hours\nin a direction opposite to that of the earth's rotation, all the\nparts of the instrument evidently follow the movement of the heavens\nor of any celestial object to which the telescope may be directed.\nThe axis around which the telescope turns can be rotated by hand or\nclamped in position, and in connection with the other, which can be\ndisengaged from the clock-work, enables the instrument to be pointed\nin any direction at pleasure. This style of mounting is known as the\nequatorial, and is almost always used for astronomical telescopes. It\nis similar to the ordinary tripod used for small instruments, except\nin the addition of clock-work, and in having the principal axis\ninclined toward the pole-star instead of being vertical.\n\nBut it was necessary not only to take photographs, but to know the\ntime at which they were taken, that they might accurately measure the\nmovement of the lunar disc over that of the sun. This might have been\nsecured by simply noting them from the face of the chronometer; but\nthe object was more neatly and certainly attained by having the slide\nitself, as it dropped at the end of the exposure, break the electric\ncircuit, and record its own time on the chronograph.\n\nThe spectroscopic work was the most difficult and important of all.\nProfessor Winlock, the director of Harvard College Observatory and\nchief of the party, had charge of this. Though, as above stated, it\nhas been found that the prominences can be seen with the spectroscope\nat any time, still the probability that they could be better observed\nat the time of the eclipse than at other times made it a duty to try\nthe experiment, and the result has, as will soon be seen, proved\nthat such is the case. Another observation was obtained with a\nspectroscope at Bardstown.\n\nA large number of persons had come in, some from considerable\ndistances, to observe the expected phenomenon. Among them was Mr.\nFrankenstein, of Springfield, Ohio, an artist, who hoped to paint\nthe appearance of the eclipse and its effect on the landscape. This\nseemed an admirable idea, and it is quite remarkable that attempts\nof this kind have not been previously made; as they have not, at\nleast to our knowledge. The circumstances of the present one made it\neminently suitable for pictorial effect, owing to the small altitude\nof the sun; and the landscape, seen from the point selected, (some\nhigh hills east of the town,) is certainly one of great beauty.\n\nThe clouds broke away at about midnight and the thermometer fell\nconsiderably, reading about 59 at sunrise. The observing party\nimproved the opportunity for final adjustments of instruments and\npreparatory observations, and hope revived in the hearts of all.\n\nThe sun rose unobscured on the morning of the 7th, and the day was\ncloudless till about ten o'clock, when some small cumuli drifted for\nabout an hour across the sky, which then resumed its unbroken blue.\nThe weather was also delightfully cool with a light breeze, which\nincreased in the afternoon, and at four was blowing quite freshly.\nThere were no signs of the predicted hailstorm, and strong faith\nwould certainly have been needed for one to retain a belief of its\narrival.\n\nAs the prospect of fine weather improved, and in fact seemed\nalmost certain, the people, citizens and strangers, assembled on\nthe observatory hill, and a rope was drawn round the tent where\nthe instruments were mounted, to prevent a natural but dangerous\ncuriosity on the part of those not immediately engaged in the special\nobservations.\n\nEvery one now felt that they would be fully repaid for the time and\nlabor devoted to the journey.\n\nAt about half-past four the edge of the sun was visibly indented;\nsome persons maintained that they could see the moon some time\nprevious to the contact; but this must probably be ascribed to a\nlively imagination. Smoked glass now came into demand, and all eyes\nwere anxiously watching the rapidly decreasing orb. I had secured,\nthrough the kindness of an influential friend, an excellent position\non the court-house, itself a high building and situated on the\nhighest point in the town, commanding a fine view in all directions,\nparticularly toward the north-west, from which quarter the shadow was\nsweeping toward us at the rate of more than a mile every second.\n\nSome five or six gentlemen had followed me to the roof of the\nbuilding, after which the ladder leading to the cupola was drawn\nup, to prevent a general ascent by the crowd below. At a quarter or\ntwenty minutes past five, the wind began to abate, and the darkness\nwas quite noticeable, and of course from that time continually\nincreased, the general effect being like that of moonlight some time\nbefore the totality. The darkness was much more striking than at any\ntime during the annular eclipse of 1854; this was probably owing\nto the total absence of any cloud, which would have reflected and\nmultiplied the light of the unobscured portion of the sun, as on that\noccasion.\n\nA minute or so before the totality, the complete circle of the moon\nwas easily visible, with faint brushes of light streaming from it in\nall directions, which were soon to assume much larger dimensions,\nand, apparently, though not really, a greater brilliancy.\n\nI cast now my eyes to the north-western horizon, and saw a brick-red\ntinge on the sky evidently caused by the rapidly approaching umbra.\nThe long-expected moment had come; the last direct beam from the\nsun vanished, and a magnificent corona of rays, faint, of course,\ncompared with the solar light, but bright in the prevailing gloom,\nshot out round the disc of the moon. These rays were prolonged\nin four directions at right angles to each other much more than\nelsewhere; having in these directions a length about equal to the\nsun's diameter, making the corona or aureola obviously cruciform in\nits shape.\n\nVenus and Mercury appeared conspicuously on opposite sides of the\nmoon, and Regulus could be seen, though with some difficulty.\nSeveral other first magnitude stars appeared in other parts of\nthe sky, Arcturus, Vega, and Saturn being specially noticed by\nthe observers at my side; and undoubtedly fainter ones could have\nbeen easily discerned, could one have been willing to divert his\neyes from the beautiful sight placed before them, which seemed to\nsurpass the expectations of every beholder. To all our party, I\nthink, it conveyed little or no idea of horror or dread, but only\nof inexpressible beauty. The moon was at about one sixth of the\ndistance to the zenith above the horizon, so that no straining of\nnecks was necessary to look at it, as it hung over the darkened\nlandscape. Certainly, as it so hung or floated, surrounded by the\nirrepressible splendor of the great source of light which lay behind\nit, and attended by its two bright planetary companions, one on each\nside, it was no unfit type of the glorious mystery which the church\nhad just commemorated on the preceding day. The darkness was not so\ngreat as that of moonlight, but of course of a somewhat different\ncharacter, the light not coming from one definite direction. I think\nit probable that no shadows were cast, but was too much occupied in\nother observations to be sure of this point. The birds around the\nbuilding flew about wildly; and it was said that the fowls went to\nroost, and the cows started for home, and that the cocks crowed on\nthe reappearance of the sun.\n\nThe eclipse had not lasted many seconds when I saw, without specially\nlooking for it, a bright light red or orange drop on the lower edge\nof the moon, which of course was one of the famous protuberances. It\nwas easily seen with the naked eye, though probably many who had not\nheard of these appearances did not notice it. Before the end of the\nobscuration, another appeared on the right where the sun was about\nto emerge. A third was also visible to the telescope above. Possibly\nthey may have had some connection with the long rays of the corona.\n\nBefore we had fairly begun to satisfy our curiosity, a well-marked\nboundary between the general darkness and a bright portion of sky\nto the north-west gave warning of the end of the eclipse, and\nimmediately afterward the sun flashed out on the right.\n\nThe separation of the discs of the sun and moon during the following\nhour was probably carefully observed by few except the astronomers\nand photographers; the moment of interest had passed, and few cared\nto do more than exchange congratulations on the success of the\ndisplay. I forgot to notice whether the corona and prominences were\nvisible after the totality; the latter were still seen, according\nto accounts received from elsewhere, and I met with one gentleman\nsome days afterward who had seen the great protuberance on the lower\nedge of the sun at Shelbyville, Indiana, a point some fifteen miles\nfrom the outside line of totality; he had, of course, no previous\nsuspicion of its existence.\n\nThe eclipse was naturally the principal topic of conversation during\nthe evening, and every one was anxious to report his own observations\nand learn those of others. I found that eleven spectral lines had\nbeen seen by Professor Winlock in the great prominence, some of them\ncharacteristic of the metal magnesium. He saw only three before and\nafter totality; thus confirming the idea previously entertained,\nthat solar eclipses, though not the only occasions on which these\ninteresting objects may be seen, are, with our present apparatus, far\nthe best. The photographers had taken some eighty pictures, several\nduring the totality, and the times of beginning and ending had been\naccurately observed both at Shelbyville and, as we afterward learned,\nalso at the stations on the border line, Falmouth and Oakland; which\nborder observations give the position and breadth of the path of the\nshadow within some eight or ten rods; the southern edge can even be\ndetermined with much greater accuracy, owing to a fortunate selection\nof the station, which proved to be extremely near it. The precise\namounts by which these results differ from the previous computations\nhave yet to be determined; but it is probable that the corrections\nto the tables now used will be very small.\n\nAn ingenious method of observing the time of the external contacts,\nor beginning and end of the whole eclipse, was, as I heard, devised\nby a gentleman at another station. These phenomena, especially\nthe first, are very difficult to observe accurately, owing to the\ninvisibility of the moon when off of the sun's disc, and the waviness\nof the sun's limb, making it doubtful that an indentation has been\nmade in it till it has become quite deep, which is, of course, some\ntime after the actual meeting of the two bodies. He observed it with\nthe spectroscope by noting the time of disappearance of one of the\nlines only visible on the extreme edge of the sun's disc.\n\nEvery one not engrossed in some special work had, of course, seen\nthe planets Venus and Mercury; and many had seen others of the\nfirst magnitude. The darkness was not so great as was hoped for by\nthose who were searching for intra-Mercurial planets; no candle\nwas necessary for examining the charts which had been prepared.\nOne observer at Shelbyville reported having seen a star of the\nthird magnitude with the naked eye, and as he had no previous\nknowledge of the existence of such a star in the place in which\nhe was looking, the fact seems indubitable. Dr. B. A. Gould, of\nCambridge, who observed at Burlington, Iowa, has since informed me\nthat he saw a star of the fifth magnitude, with a telescope of five\ninches aperture, near the sun; the star is a well-known one, and the\nobservation shows that, had any planets of that brilliancy (about one\nfiftieth of that of Mercury) been within three degrees of the sun,\nwithin which limits he was restricted in his search by the shortness\nof time, he would not have failed to detect them.\n\n\"Baily's beads\" do not appear to have been considered as\nextraordinary by any of the observers. The limb of the sun just\nbefore the totality was of course more or less broken up by the\nirregularities of that of the moon; but the fragments had no\nremarkable appearance; and this phenomenon, which has been the\nsubject of so much discussion, seems probably due to irradiation\nand the difficulty of determining the precise shape of small and\nbrilliant objects.\n\nAn able astronomer, who was the chief of the party at Oakland, and\nwho owing to his station being very near the southern edge of the\nshadow, saw them for fifteen or twenty seconds, says that they\npresented most clearly the phenomena which he should expect to be\ncaused by the irregular contour of the moon, when its indentations\nwere exaggerated by irradiation.\n\nNo discoveries of equal importance with M. Janssen's last year have\nyet been reported; but as no eclipse has ever been so thoroughly\nobserved, the results cannot fail, when thoroughly collected and\ncompared, to be of great scientific value.\n\n\n\n\nRELIGION IN PRISONS.[27]\n\n\nFor the last quarter of a century, a society has existed in this\ncity entitled the \"Prison Association of New York.\" It counts among\nits members a large number of the wealthy and influential men of the\nState. Its object is to improve our prison systems and to effect as\nfar as possible the permanent reformation of our criminals. With so\nhumane and Christian an object we most heartily sympathize.\n\nIts Twenty-fourth Annual Report, which we recently received, is a\nvery interesting and comprehensive document. Accompanying it is a\ncircular in which we are told that the association desires \"that the\npublic attention may be directed to this question, and the public\nsentiment in relation to it enlightened and invigorated, so that\nour prison systems and our administration of criminal justice may\neverywhere be improved and brought into harmony with the advancing\ncivilization of the age.\"\n\nWe shall, therefore, offer a few suggestions on this subject.\n\nA criminal is a man morally diseased. As such he should be\nconsidered--as such be treated. In a right prison system, the\npunishment of past offences should be but the secondary object; the\nprevention of future offences, the main one. No permanent outward\nchange can be effected till an inward reformation has been wrought;\nand that reformation must come through mental but especially through\nmoral development.\n\nWe learn from this report, with much pleasure, that, in the prisons\nof the chief States, libraries have been established; and that, in\nmany of them, instruction is regularly imparted to the inmates,\nthrough classes and lectures. Ignorance is a fruitful source of\nvice. The Catholic Church, which alone raised the world from the\nintellectual darkness into which, at the fall of the Roman empire,\nthe inpouring of northern barbarians had plunged her, stands to-day\nthe foremost champion of enlightened Christian education. She regards\nknowledge as an aid to virtue. She courts the light of science,\nthat in its beams the truth of her dogmas may appear with brighter\nresplendence.\n\nBut experience has clearly shown that virtue is not a necessary\nconsequence of education--that moral does not always follow mental\ndevelopment. To prove this, we need not go outside of this report, in\nwhich, page 373, we read the following words of Amos Pilsbury, \"the\nNestor of jailers on this continent; an officer whose name is almost\nas well known in Europe as it is in America\":\n\n\"Experience has, unhappily, demonstrated that the possession of\neducation is not incompatible with the commission of crimes of every\nkind; and we have seen many melancholy examples of very highly\neducated men falling victims to drunkenness and other degrading\nvices.\" Daniel Webster therefore truthfully said: \"Man is not only\nan intellectual, but he is also a moral being; and his religious\nfeelings and habits require cultivation. Let the religious element in\nman's nature be neglected; let him be influenced by no higher motive\nthan low self-interest, and subjected to no stronger restraints than\nthe limits of civil authority, and he becomes the creature of selfish\npassions and blind fanaticism. The cultivation of the religious\nsentiment represses licentiousness, incites to general benevolence\nand the practical acknowledgment of the brotherhood of men; inspires\nrespect for law and order, and gives strength to the whole social\nfabric; at the same time it conducts the human soul upward to the\nAuthor of its being.\"\n\nAfter quoting these words, Rev. David Dyer, chaplain of the Albany\nPenitentiary, adds, page 348: \"Of all the attributes of man, the\nmoral and religious are the most important and influential. They,\nby divine arrangement, have this precedency. They are designed to\nbe the mainspring of thought and action, the director of the whole\nman. Let them be neglected, debased, or treated as of secondary\nimportance, and the whole system will be deranged. Readjustment and\nreformation will be impossible. There may, indeed, be induced, under\nthe power of seclusion or physical force, a servile fear; perverse\npassions may, for a time, be checked, and the developments of a\ndepraved will may be staid; but let these appliances be removed, and\nit will soon become apparent that instead of promoting reformation\nthey have induced spiritual hardness, recklessness, and hate, and\nmade the man a more inveterate slave to his passions and a greater\ninjury to the state. The moral and religious improvement of convicts\nshould, therefore, be the first and constant aim of all to whose\ncare they are committed. Their chief efforts should be directed to\nthe sanctification of the springs of thought and action; and this\nsecured, through the benediction of God, those objects of Christian\nsolicitude will go forth to exemplify in virtuous lives the wisdom\nand utility of these efforts.\"\n\nIt being plain, therefore, that upon religious and moral influences\nchiefly we must rely for the reformation of criminals, the question\nnext arises, What should be the nature of those influences? Should\nthey be in accordance with the conscience of the criminal or not?\nShould the clergyman who is to minister to his spiritual wants,\npossess his confidence, and lead him to good, be a clergyman of\nhis own church, or of a church from which the prisoner was, is, and\nwill be throughout life, fundamentally separated, in thought and\nfeeling? Should the books which are placed in his hands, with a view\nto his moral improvement, be such as will attract, because written in\naccordance with the principles of his church, and recommended by its\nteachers, or such as will raise suspicion, if they do not actually\nrepel, because coming from a doubtful source, and full, perhaps, of\nexpressions and statements at variance with his religious sentiments?\n\nThe proper answer to these questions is, we think, self-evident. No\nman who has to build a house on a foundation already laid begins by\nattempting to weaken that foundation.\n\nLast year, in the city of New York, 46,476 were committed to prison.\nOf this number, 28,667, nearly two thirds, were of foreign birth.\nA statistical view of all the prisoners of the United States, page\n149, shows that twenty-seven per cent of the inmates belong to the\nsame class. A large share of these are undoubtedly Catholics. So,\nlikewise, are many who are put down as of native birth.\n\nNow, we ask, how much is done to bring to bear on these unfortunates\nthe salutary influences of their own religion?\n\nHow many prisons in the United States have Catholic chaplains? In how\nmany is a priest invited to minister at stated times to the spiritual\nwants of this great number of inmates? In how many cases, not so much\nin this as in other parts of the country, is the priest not only not\ninvited, but with difficulty allowed, if allowed at all, to say mass\nand administer the sacraments of penance and the eucharist to the\nprisoners who are of his own faith?\n\nWe read in this report, with much pleasure, that libraries have\nbeen established in our chief prisons; that \"the aggregate number\nof volumes is 15,250;\" that \"in some States, a fixed annual sum is\nappropriated of the increase of the prison libraries; in others,\nadditions are made by special grants. New York appropriates for her\nthree prisons, $950; Pennsylvania, for her two, $450; Michigan,\n$300; Massachusetts, $200; Connecticut, $200.\" Of this large and\nannually increasing supply of books, intended as an aid in the moral\nreformation of criminals, of whom probably one third are Catholics,\nwhat portion is written by Catholics? What portion is Catholic,\neither in its tone or in its teaching? How many of these books\nare not more or less _anti-Catholic_, and hence repulsive to the\nreligious feelings of those for whose benefit they are intended?\n\nWe have no desire to make proselytes in our prisons. We do not wish\nto interfere with the religious convictions of prisoners who do\nnot belong to our faith; but we claim as a right, and maintain in\nthe name of justice and of philanthropy and of true statesmanship,\nthat our Catholic criminals should, as far as possible, be attended\nby Catholic clergymen and be supplied with Catholic books. As the\nRussian Count Sollohub says, page 572, in his paper on \"The Prison\nSystem of Russia,\" \"Religion is, beyond contradiction, the first\nprinciple of all human perfection. It is this alone which consoles,\nthis alone which replaces the passions by humility, and a disordered\nlife by a life without reproach. But every religion has its forms.\nLet Catholicism pursue its propagandism (?) in the prisons--nothing\nbetter; for this it has its orators. Let Puritanism shut up its\ncriminals and cause them to enter into themselves by the reading of\nthe Bible; it has for that the education which it gives.\" And again,\npage 573, \"Missionaries, special brotherhoods, the enthusiastic\npropagandists of Bible societies, and prison visitors are certainly\nworthy of the most respectful sympathy; but they belong to a\ndifferent order of ideas.\"\n\nIn reading the article on \"Religion in Prisons,\" by the Corresponding\nSecretary of the Association, Mr. E. C. Wines, we were much struck by\nthe following words, page 390: \"The benefit to convicts is obvious\nand incalculable of frequent conversation with an earnest, kind,\ngodly, sympathizing, and judicious chaplain, when the prisoner\ncan express his feelings and the pastor can give his counsels\nand admonitions, with no one by to check the free outpourings of\nthe heart on either side. One special reason for such visits and\nconversations is, that the chaplain is thereby enabled the better to\ndirect his inquiries and instructions to each prisoner's particular\ncase.\"\n\nHere the gentleman has, perhaps without knowing it, clearly depicted\na _Catholic confession_. Catholic prisoners will thus open their\nhearts to a Catholic priest and to a Catholic priest only; and from\nhis lips words of counsel and of kindness will have vastly more\nweight than when they come from any other source whatsoever.\n\nOf Mettray, in France,[28] a Catholic institution, and the model\nreformatory of the world, we read, page 258, that \"the church doors\nstand always open, and whoever seeks an opportunity for private\nprayer is free to enter,\" and, page 259, \"the founders of the\ninstitution have laid great stress on the influence of religion as\naffording the only solid foundation for the reformation of criminals;\nand the words, '_Maison de Dieu_,' are inscribed in front of the\nchurch as an acknowledgment that, unless the Lord build the house,\ntheir labor is but lost that build it. The proportion of communicants\nis considerable, and it is noticeable that on the approach of the\ngreat festivals, there is always a marked diminution in the number of\ninfractions.\"\n\nThe necessity of bringing Catholic religious influences to bear on\nCatholic prisoners has been acknowledged in the Irish prison system,\nwhich is considered of all prison systems the most perfect; for we\nare told, page 336, that, besides the Protestant, there are Catholic\nchaplains who \"say mass daily, and hold religious services twice on\nSunday.\"\n\nIn the most friendly spirit, we respectfully recommend the\nconsideration of these facts and suggestions to the Prison\nAssociation of New York, and to all, throughout the country, who\ntake an interest in our prison system and desire the reformation and\nwelfare of our unfortunate criminals. They are generally the victims\nof ignorance and wretchedness. Had they been willing to exchange\nfaith for falsehood, and to barter their birthright for a mess of\npottage, they might now be prosperous in their native land. Thus is\na certain glory found even in their shame. For the sake of principle\nthey have embraced poverty and exile. They are poor; and the poor sin\npublicly and are punished. Surrounded by countless temptations, when\nthey fall they are more to be pitied than blamed. We could not disown\nthem if we would, and we would not if we could. The church never\ndisowned them. On the contrary, she has performed miracles of mercy\nin their favor. The Saviour never disowned them, for we read that he\nate with publicans and sinners.\n\nMuch has been done toward reforming this unfortunate class. Much\nmore may yet be done. Their souls are not dead but sleeping! Let\nthe Prison Association of New York see that the influences of\ntheir own religion are brought to bear upon them. Wherever there\nis a considerable number of Catholics confined in any prison,\npenitentiary, reform-school, or school-ship, let a Catholic priest\nbe invited to administer to their spiritual wants and to perform\nthe religious service of their church. Let the association see that\nin the selection of books for prison libraries, a fair share are\nCatholic books; not dry theological treatises, nor dull books of\npiety, but books such as are calculated to divert, to instruct, to\nelevate; to make better men, better citizens, and better members of\nsociety; to strengthen conscience and loyalty to the great principles\nof divine religion and eternal right.\n\nWe entirely agree with the association as to the end to be attained,\nand we have endeavored, in a few words, to point out the means best\ncalculated for the attainment of that end with a very large part of\nour criminals. We trust that our ideas will receive a trial, and that\nnarrow-minded and bigoted intolerance will not be allowed to put\nobstacles in the way.\n\nCatholic criminals can be permanently reformed only by Catholic\nreligious influences.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[27] _Twenty-Fourth Annual Report of the Executive Committee of the\nPrison Association of New York, and accompanying Documents, for\n1868._ Transmitted to the Legislature Jan. 13th, 1869. Albany: The\nArgus Company, Printers. 1869.\n\n[28] See CATHOLIC WORLD, January, 1869.\n\n\n\n\nCATHOLICITY AND PANTHEISM.\n\nNUMBER EIGHT.\n\nUNION BETWEEN THE INFINITE AND THE FINITE, OR FIRST MOMENT OF GOD'S\nEXTERNAL ACTION\n\n\nThe result of our preceding article was a supreme duality--the\ninfinite and the finite. The one absolutely distinct in nature from\nthe other. The first self-existing, necessary, eternal, immutable,\ninfinitely perfect, and absolutely complete and blessed in his\ninterior life; the other, created, contingent, mutable, imperfect,\nand on the way to development. How can this duality, so marked and so\ndistinct, the terms of which are so infinitely apart, be harmonized\nand brought together into unity?\n\nSuch is the fifth problem which pantheism raises, and which it\nundertakes to solve.\n\nLet us investigate more deeply the nature of the problem.\n\nWe do not now inquire whether there be any kind of union between the\ninfinite and the finite, because they are already united by means of\nthe creative act.\n\nThe infinite creates the finite, sustains and directs it, three\nmoments which constitute the finite and cause it to act. This is the\nfirst and fundamental union between the infinite and the finite.\nAfter what union, then, do we seek when the problem is raised, Is\nthere a union between the infinite and the finite already perfect as\nto being, or, in other words, between the infinite and the finite\nalready united by the creative act?\n\nWe inquire after a union which may mark and express the highest\npossible elevation of perfection which the cosmos, or the assemblage\nof all finite beings, may attain; and as the finite, as we shall see,\ncannot acquire its highest possible perfection except by a union with\ninfinite perfection, it follows that the problem inquires after the\nhighest possible union between the infinite and the finite.\n\nWe shall, according to our wont, give the pantheistic solution of the\nproblem, and then subjoin the answer of Catholicity. The pantheistic\nsolution is as follows: The infinite is the highest possible\nindetermination and indefiniteness in the way to development. It\nbecomes definite and concrete in the finite, and this by a gradual\nprocess.\n\nFirst, it assumes the lowest possible form of existence in the\nmineral kingdom. Then it begins to show life in the vegetable\nkingdom. It acquires sensation and perception in the animal, and\nshoots up into intelligence and consciousness in humanity. Yet is\nthis intelligence and consciousness essentially progressive, and\nbegins from the minimum degree to rise to the highest. This principle\nexplains all the stages of more or less civilization of which history\nmakes mention. At first the infinite acquires those faculties in\nhumanity which border on and are more akin to the senses, such as the\nimagination and the fancy; hence the primitive state of nations is\nmarked with very imperfect development of the reasoning faculties,\nand with a superabundance of imagination; consequently, this\nprimitive state abounds in national bards, who discharge all those\noffices which, in nations more civilized, are fulfilled by others,\nsuch as historians, orators, etc. It is also the age of myths, when\npeople with young and robust fancy are apt to give flesh and blood\nand personality to any striking legend in vogue, until the legend, so\ndressed up and personified, is misunderstood for a historical fact\nand real person. Then, in proportion as the development advances, the\ninfinite acquires a better explication of the reasoning faculties,\nand hence the ages of philosophy. Of course the development is\ngradual and slow, and is perfected by time and continued development,\nuntil the infinite arrives not only to the fullest explication of\nthe reasoning faculties, but also to the full consciousness of its\ninfinity, and of its eternal duration.\n\nThe infinite, arrived at the fullest explication of its intelligence,\nand to the full consciousness of its infinity, is humanity, or the\ncosmos arrived to the highest possible perfection. This humanity,\ndressed up by the imagination of the people, with individuality and\npersonal traits, is the Christ, or the myth which Christians adore.\n\n\"The subject of the attributes,\" says Strauss, \"which the church\npredicates of Christ, is not an individual, but a certain idea,\nthough real, and not void of reality, like the Kantian ideas. The\nproperties and perfections attributed to Christ by the church, if\nconsidered as united in one individual, the God-man, contradict each\nother, but may be reconciled in the idea of the _species_. Humanity\nis the collection of two natures, or God made man; that is, the\n_infinite spirit transformed into a finite nature who is conscious\nof his eternal duration_. This humanity is begotten from a visible\nmother and an invisible father, that is, spirit and nature. It is\nthat which performs miracles, enjoys impeccability, dies, and rises\nagain, and goes up to heaven. Man, believing in this Christ, and\nespecially in his death and resurrection, may acquire justification\nbefore God.\"[29]\n\nAccording to pantheism, then, the infinite, acquiring the full\nconsciousness of his infinite perfections in humanity, is the highest\npossible perfection of the cosmos, and the union, therefore, between\nthe two is the union of _identity_.\n\nWe are dispensed from attempting any refutation of this theory,\nseeing that it rests on premises which we have already demonstrated\nto be false and absurd. We only beg the reader to observe how utterly\nfutile and useless is this theory for the solution of the problem\nwhich has called it forth. The problem is, how to raise the cosmos to\nthe highest possible perfection, or, in other words, how to establish\nthe highest possible union of the finite and the infinite, from which\nthe highest possible perfection of the finite may result.\n\nPantheism answers by proclaiming the absolute identity of the\ninfinite and the finite, by marking the highest possible perfection\non the cosmos, when the infinite in its finite form of development\nacquires a consciousness of its infinity. Now, it is evident in this\nanswer that one term of the problem is swept away, that no real\ncosmos exists, that it is but a phenomenon of the infinite, and that,\nconsequently, in the pantheistic solution the problem of the highest\npossible union of the infinite and the finite cannot exist, because\nthe second term of the union does not really exist.\n\nIn the preceding article we raised the question, Is there a means\nby which to raise the cosmos to the highest possible perfection, a\nperfection almost absolute and beyond which we cannot go? And we\nanswered that the problem cannot be solved by human reason, being\naltogether super-intelligible, and that the solution of it must be\nleft to the Catholic Church, the repository of divine revelation.\n\nNow, the church answers the problem by laying down the first moment\nof the external action of God, the hypostatic moment. By it the\nhuman nature, and through it the cosmos, is elevated to the highest\npossible perfection--a perfection beyond which we could not go; and\nthus the problem is resolved, and the aspiration of the finite to\nthe highest possible union with the infinite is satisfied. That the\nreader may fully understand the doctrine of Catholicity in answer to\nthe problem, we shall beg leave to recall a few principles which will\npave the way to the very heart of the answer.\n\n1st. Every work of God, before it exists in itself, has an objective\nexistence in God's Word.\n\nWe remarked, in the sixth article, that every contingent being\nmust have a twofold state of existence, one objective, the other\nsubjective. The objective is the ideal and intelligible state of\nevery being residing eternally in the mind of God. Now, all God's\nideality or intelligibility is centred in the Word, whose constituent\nis to be the very ideality or intelligibility of God. Consequently,\nthe cosmos, before it exists in itself, has an objective and\nintelligible state of existence in the Word. In other terms, the\nWord is the subsisting and eternal intelligible expression of every\nthing that God is, and every thing that resides within God. He is,\ntherefore, essentially the expression of all divine ideas. Now,\nall the works of God are a divine idea. Therefore, the Word by his\npersonal constituent is the representation, the type of the general\nsystem of God's external works.\n\n2d. All the works of God, inasmuch as they reside in the Word in a\ntypical state, are infinite.\n\nFor whatever is within God is identified with his essence, which is\nabsolute simplicity. Therefore, the cosmos, in its typical state\nresiding in the Word, resides in God, and is thus identified with the\nessence of God, and is consequently infinite. St. John, with the\nsublimest expression ever uttered by man, renders this idea when he\nsays, \"All that was made in him (the Word) was life,\"[30] indicating\nthat the Word, consisting of all the intelligibility of God and that\nwhich was made belonging to the ideality and intelligibility of God,\nwas the very life of the Word, and consequently infinite.\n\n3d. The Word is not only the type but the efficient cause of the\ncosmos. The truth of this follows from the essential relation of the\nWord to the Father.\n\nThe Father, knowing himself, knows also whatever is possible. But\nwhatever he knows he utters and expresses by his Word. Therefore,\nthe Father, through his only Word, utters himself and things\noutside himself. But his utterance of creatures is also the cause\nof their subjective existence, since God is pure and undivided act.\nConsequently, through his single Word he affirms himself and his\nexterior works, and consequently he is also their efficient cause.\n\n4th. The external action of God tends to express, exteriorly, the\ndivine idea of the cosmos, as perfectly as it is uttered interiorly.\n\nWe have shown in the preceding article that, although it was not\nnecessary that God should effect the best possible cosmos, for the\nreasons which we have therein given, yet it was most agreeable to\nthe end of creation that God should effect the best possible cosmos.\nNow, the best possible cosmos is evidently that which draws as near\nas possible to its intelligible and typical state. Consequently, the\nexternal action of God has a tendency to express, exteriorly, the\ndivine ideas as perfectly as he utters them interiorly. St. Thomas\nproves the same truth with a somewhat similar argument. Every agent,\nhe says, intends to express his own similitude (the interior idea) on\nthe effect he produces, and the more perfect is the agent, the better\nand stronger will be the similitude between him and his effect. Now,\nGod is most perfect agent. It was, therefore, most agreeable to\nhim to stamp his own similitude on his external works as perfectly\nas possible; that is, it was most agreeable to him to render his\nexternal works as like their typical state as possible.\n\n5th. This supreme or best possible expression of the typical state of\nGod's external works could not be substantial or ontological.\n\nWe have seen that the typical state of the cosmos, residing eternally\nin the Word of God, is identified with him, and is therefore\ninfinite. It follows, therefore, that if we suppose a supreme,\nsubstantial, and ontological expression of this typical state, we\nmust suppose a supreme, substantial, and ontological expression of\nthe infinite. Now, this is absurd; because a supreme and ontological\nexpression of the infinite would be the very substance of God. On\nthe other hand, the expression, requiring necessarily to be created,\nwould be essentially finite. Consequently, on the supposition, we\nshould have a finite infinite substantial expression of God, which is\na contradiction in terms.\n\n6th. The supreme expression cannot be effected except by an\nincorporation of the infinite into the finite.\n\nHaving excluded the identity between the finite and infinite natures,\nan identity which would be a necessary consequence if the expression\nwere substantial and ontological, if a supreme expression of the\ninfinite is to be effected, if the cosmos, in its subjective state,\nis to be elevated and made as like as possible to its typical state,\nthere are no other means of effecting this than by an incorporation\nof the infinite into the finite. For let it be remembered that the\nfinite, in force of its nature, is indefinitely progressive. You can\nadd perfection to perfection, but unless you transform it into the\ninfinite, it will never change its nature, and will continue to be\nfinite. Thus, the only possible way of elevating it to the highest\npossible perfection, is to raise it to a union with the infinite\ngreater than which you cannot conceive.\n\n7th. This union or incorporation must be effected by the Word.\n\nBecause, first, the Word is the natural organ between the Father and\nhis exterior work, since, with the same utterance, the Father speaks\nhimself and his external works. Secondly, this union is required in\norder that the external works may draw as near to their typical state\nas possible. Now, the Word is the living and personal typical state\nof the cosmos, the intelligible life of the external works; it is\nnecessary, therefore, that _he_ should enter into the finite, and\nbring into harmony the interior infinite type of the cosmos, with its\nfinite external expression; unite together the ideal intelligible\nstate with the real subjective state of the cosmos.\n\nFrom all we have said, it follows that all the external works reside\nin the Word; that inasmuch as they reside in the Word in their\ntypical state, they are his very life, and consequently infinite;\nthat the Word is not only the typical but efficient cause of the\ncosmos; that the external act tends to express exteriorly the typical\nstate of the cosmos as perfectly as it is uttered interiorly; that\nthis supreme expression could not be substantial and ontological;\nand that, consequently, the only means of effecting it was an\nincorporation of the infinite into the finite, to be executed by the\nWord as the natural organ between God and his external works.\n\nNow, this is the answer which Catholicity affords to the problem,\nWhat is the union by which the finite attains its highest possible\nperfection?\n\nIt answers in the sublime expressions of the Eagle among the\nEvangelists, and which resume, in a few words, all we have hitherto\nsaid.\n\n\"In the beginning (the Father) was the Word.\n\n\"And the Word was with God.\n\n\"And the Word was God. The same was in the beginning with God. All\nthings were made _by him_, and without him was made nothing.\n\n\"That which was made in him was _life_.\n\n\"And the Word was made _flesh_, and dwelt among us.\"[31]\n\nThe Word of God, the subsisting ideality of the Father, the living\ntype of his external works, united himself to human nature, the\nmicro-cosmos, or abridgment of the cosmos, in such a close and\nintimate union as to be himself the subsistence of human nature, and\nthus exalted the cosmos to its highest possible perfection. This\nunion of the Word with human nature is called hypostatic or personal\nunion.\n\nWe must now study its nature and properties, draw the consequences\nwhich flow from it, and point out how well it answers all the\nrequisites and conditions of the problem.\n\nAnd in the first place, we remark that the subsistence of finite\nbeings is also contingent and variable. We have before given an idea\nof subsistence and personality; but we beg leave to recall a few\nideas about these most important notions of ideology, that the reader\nmay better perceive in what the nature of the hypostatic union really\nconsists. We shall explain the following notions: possibility,\nactuality, nature, substance, subsistence, and personality.\n\nPossibility is the non-repugnance of a being. It is intrinsic or\nexterior. When the essential elements which constitute the idea of\na being do not clash together or contradict each other, the being\nis intrinsically possible. When, besides the intrinsic possibility,\nthere exists a principle which may give the being actual existence,\nthe possibility is external.\n\nThe intrinsic possibility of a being in the mind of the cause or\nprinciple of this being is called intelligible actuality. Actuality\nor existence, properly speaking--that is, subjective actuality--is\nthe existence of the being outside of the intelligent cause which\nperceives it; or, in other words, the external expression of the\nintelligible actuality.\n\nNature is the radical, interior principle of action in every existing\nbeing.\n\nSubstance is the existing of the being in itself, or the permanence\nand duration of a being in itself. Now, a being which is a substance\nmay be united with another substance, and the union may be so close\nthat one of them may become the natural, inseparable, intrinsic organ\nof the other. In this case the being which is thus united with the\nother and has become the organ of the other, although not ceasing\nto be a substance, possesses no subsistence of its own. What, then,\nis the subsistence of a being? It is not merely the existing in\nitself; it is the exclusive possession of the existing in itself and\nwhatever flows from this exclusive possession. A being is possessed\nof existence in itself and of its operations, when the union of which\nwe have spoken does not exist. But whenever such union exists, though\nthe being continues to be substance or to exist in itself, it has\nyet no exclusive possession of itself.\n\nHence, subsistence is defined the last complement of a substance\nwhich makes it an independent whole, separate or distinct from all\nothers; makes it own and possess itself, and renders it responsible\nfor its operations. Personality adds to this the element of\nintelligence; so that a person is that supreme and intelligent\nprinciple in a being which knows itself to be a whole, independent\nof all others; which enjoys the possession of itself, and is\nresponsible for its actions. Consequently, every substance which\nis complete--that is, detached from and independent of all other\nsubstances in such a manner as to constitute a whole by itself, and\nalone to bear the attribution of its properties, modifications, and\nfunctions--is a subsistence.\n\nThe subsistence or personality of a contingent being is also\ncontingent, and may be separable from it so as to give rise to a\ntwofold supposition, either that the contingent being never had a\nsubsistence of its own, or, if it had, it may be deprived of it, and\nits own subsistence may be substituted by another.\n\nIn the first place, we remark, in vindication of this statement,\nthat it is impossible that any substance could really exist without\na subsistence. Because, as we have said, subsistence is the last\ncomplement of substance, and consequently without it the substance\ncould not be actual, but would be a mere abstraction. That for which\nwe contend in the proposition just laid down is, that it is not\nnecessary that a substance should have a subsistence of its own, but\nthat it may subsist of the subsistence of another.\n\nFor it is evident that every being comprised within the sphere of the\ncontingent and the finite may cease to be a whole by itself, and\nmay contract with a nature foreign to itself a union so intimate and\nso strong as to depend on this foreign nature in all its functions\nand its states, and no longer to bear the attribution and solidarity\nof its actions and modifications. If, for instance, a hand detached\nfrom the whole body were to trace characters, this action would be\nattributed to it exclusively; it would be a subsistence, a whole\nby itself, and we should say, _That hand writes_. But if it should\nbecome a part of, and we should consider is as dependent on, a human\nnature and will, it would then lose the solidary attribution of the\nfunction of which it is the organ; and then we could no longer say,\n_That hand writes_; but, _That man writes_.\n\nA contingent substance may be deprived of the possession of its\nsubsistence by a union with a substance even inferior in nature to\nitself. Because its superiority over this nature would not prevent\nits being dependent on it in its functions and in its states, as\nis the case with the human soul, which presides over the body,\nwhich produces in it continual changes, and which, in spite of the\nexcellence which distinguishes it from the mass of matter which it\nanimates, yet depends on the body in its most intimate situations,\nand finds itself bowed down by the continual evil which it suffers\nthereby.\n\nHence is it that in man the possession of subsistence belongs neither\nto the soul nor to the body, and there is no other subsistence in him\nbut the sum of the two natures of which he is composed, but the whole\nof the two extremes united together, and which is at the same time\nspirit and body, incorruptible and corruptible, the intelligent and\nthe brute.\n\nHence, neither the soul nor the body are denominated separately by\ntheir respective functions; but it is the whole man who receives the\nattribution and the different appellations of the actions and states\nof either nature, and we say, man thinks, man walks, man wills, man\ngrows. Consequently that axiom, _Actiones et denominationes sunt\nsuppositorum_, Actions are to be attributed to the subsistence.\nWe remark, in the second place, that in the infinite alone the\nsubsistence and personality is necessary, and consequently can never\nbe separated from him or be dependent on any other. Because in this\norder personality affects a nature essentially complete, total, and\nof its own intrinsic nature absolutely independent in its action and\nin its eternal and immutable state, of all external substance.\n\nIt follows, therefore, that if a divine personality enters into a\nfinite nature, it must necessarily preserve its own subsistence,\nsince it is evident that, if a divine person is united to a created\nnature in a manner so close and intimate as to form one single\nindividuality, the created nature, in force of the principles above\nstated, would have no individuality of its own, and the divine\npersonality would, in such case, necessarily be the supreme and\nindependent principle constituting the new individual, the infinite\nterm and completion of the two natures. Now, such is the hypostatic\nunion. The infinite person of the Word united to himself human\nnature in a manner so close and intimate as to form one single\nindividuality, Christ Jesus, the Theanthropos; so that the human\nnature of Christ had no subsistence of its own, but subsisted of\nthe personality of the Word. Hence, in Christ the Word of God was\nthe only supreme and independent principle, who knew himself to be\na whole apart, composed of the human and divine natures, who bore\nalone the attribution and solidarity of the actions springing from\neither nature, and who was, consequently, the only person in Christ.\n\nBut to make the nature of the hypostatic union more intelligible to\nthe reader, we shall dwell upon it a little longer.\n\nWe may reduce all the unions between the infinite and the finite to\nthree. The first is the action of God creating finite substances,\nmaintaining them in existence and directing all their movements,\npermitting, however, their defects and shortcomings.\n\nThis is the first and fundamental union between the infinite and the\nfinite. It begins the moment the finite is created, and continues\nin existence by preservation and concurrence. All this in the\nnatural order. In the supernatural order there is also a first and\nfundamental union, as we shall see, by which the action of God\neffects, as it were, a new and superior term, preserves and directs\nit in its development. Thus, the first union between the finite\nand the infinite is the action of God effecting a finite term,\nmaintaining it in existence and directing it in its development,\nboth in the substantial and in the sublimative moments. However,\nthis union not only leaves whole and entire the individuality and\nsubsistence of the two terms united, but is not even so close and\nintimate as to prevent the finite term of the union from occasionally\nfailing in its action, and of falling short of the aim to which it\nnaturally tends. Hence a second and more excellent species of union.\nBy it the infinite is so closely united with the finite as not only\nto preserve it, and to direct it in all its actions, but also to\nprevent it from falling into defects and errors.\n\nThis second kind of union, though, as it is evident, far exceeding\nthe former in intimacy and perfection, since it implies an\nextraordinary employment of activity on the part of the infinite, and\na special elevation of the finite, is yet not so close as to deprive\nthe finite term of its own subsistence and individuality.[32] We\nmay, therefore, conceive a third kind of union, whereby an infinite\npersonality may be united to a finite nature so closely and so\nintimately as not only to move and direct it in all its actions, as\nnot only to prevent it from falling into failings and imperfections,\nbut as to make it the _intrinsic instrument_, the _intimate organ_\nof his own infinite action in such a manner as to form of the finite\nnature and of the infinite personality a new and single individuality.\n\nThis supposition is eminently possible. For, on the one hand, the\ninfinite personality being possessed of infinite energy, and, on the\nother, the finite nature being endowed with an indefinite capacity of\nsublimation, nothing can detain the first from communicating itself\nto the second with such energy, power, and intensity of communication\nas to render it its own most intimate and dependent organ of action.\nIn fact, let the communication of an infinite person to a finite\nnature be carried to its highest possible degree of union short\nof absorbing and destroying the real existence of the finite, its\nsubstantiality, so to speak; let this finite nature be, accordingly,\nraised to the highest possible intimacy with the infinite person;\nlet the latter take such intense possession of the former as to make\nit its own intrinsic organ, the immediate and sole instrument of his\nown infinite operation, and what will the result be? Why, that the\nfinite nature will no longer possess itself, no longer form a whole\nby itself separated from and independent of any other; no longer bear\nthe attribution of the actions springing from its nature; in short,\nit will no longer be a subsistence and an individuality by itself,\nbut will form one single individuality with the divine person, or\nrather the infinite person will be the only single subsistence of the\ntwo natures united, the infinite and the finite. The finite nature in\nthis supposition would stand, with regard to the infinite person, in\nthe same relation in which our body stands with regard to our soul.\nFor the union of body and soul, which constitutes the individual\ncalled man, takes place according to this kind of union. The soul is\nunited to the body in a manner so close and so intimate as to render\nthe body its own most intrinsic, dependent instrument, the organ of\nits operations in such a manner that, in force of this operation, the\nbody does not possess itself, does not form a whole apart, nor is it\naccountable for the actions which immediately flow from its nature.\nIn other words, it has no subsistence of its own, but subsists of the\nsubsistence of the soul and the whole individual man. The result of\nthis union is possessed of the subsistence and forms one person.\n\nThe Incarnation of the Word is like to this union, hence called\nhypostatic or personal union. The second person of the Trinity united\nhimself to the entire human nature, constituted of body and soul, in\na manner so close and intimate as to be _himself_ the subsistence\nof the human nature; the latter never enjoying a subsistence of\nits own, because, contemporaneously to the very first instant of\nits existence, it became the internal, the immediate, and the most\nintimate organ of the Word of God, and subsisted of the subsistence\nof the Word, so that it never bore the attribution and solidarity of\nthose actions which have an immediate origin in human nature, but the\nattribution and solidarity, and, consequently, the moral worth, of\nthose actions belonged to the personality of the Word, according to\nthe axiom that _Actiones sunt suppositorum_.\n\nHence the union between the Word of God and his human nature was not\na moral union, which always implies the distinct individuality and\npersonality of the two terms united, as Nestorius thought, and many\nwould-be Christians of the present day seem to hold.\n\nNestorius was ready to grant that the union between the Word and\nhuman nature was as high and intimate as possible, so far as moral\nunion can permit; but never would he concede that it was any higher\nthan simple moral union, which kept whole and entire the two\nindividualities united. Consequently, he admitted two persons and\ntwo individualities in Christ--the _Word_ of God, and the man called\nChrist. From which theory it follows that our Lord was a mere man--a\nsaint, if you will, the highest of all saints, yet simply a man.\n\nCatholic doctrine, on the contrary, teaching that the union of the\nWord and the human nature was personal, inasmuch as the divine person\nof the Word was the subsistence in which his human nature subsisted,\nteaches consequently, at the same time, that in Christ there is one\nperson, one individuality--the divine personality of the Word; that\ntherefore Christ, the new individual, is God, being the second divine\nperson, in which both his divine and human nature subsist. Nor was\nthe human nature of this new individual so absorbed by the divine\npersonality as to cease to be a substance, as Eutyches affirmed, who\nupheld, it would seem, a fusion and a mixture of the two natures\naltogether inconceivable and absurd.\n\nFrom all we have said we may form quite an accurate idea of what the\nhypostatic union really means. It is the union, or the meeting, so\nto speak, of the human and divine natures in the one single point\nof contact, the infinite personality of the Word of God; the human\nnature having no personality of its own, but subsisting of the\nidentical personality of the Word.\n\nThe new individual possessed of the divine and human nature in the\nunity of the single personality of the Word is Jesus Christ.\n\nTo complete now the idea of the hypostatic union, we shall point out\nsome consequences which evidently flow from that union:\n\n1. We should consider that nature being transmitted through\ngeneration, and Christ being possessed of two natures, the human and\nthe divine, it is necessary to admit in him a twofold generation: one\neternal, according to which he received the divine nature from the\nFather; the second temporal, by which he received his human nature\nfrom the Virgin Mother.\n\n2. As nature is the radical principle and source of operation in\nevery being, it follows that, as Christ is possessed of two natures,\nwe must predicate of him a double operation--one human, the other\ndivine.\n\n3. In force of the same principle, we must predicate of him\nwhatever necessarily belongs to the two distinct natures. Hence, as\nintelligence and will, together with their respective perfections,\nbelong both to the human and to the divine nature, it is clear\nthat we must attribute to Christ, first, a divine intelligence and\na divine will with their perfections, such as infinite wisdom and\nknowledge, infinite holiness, goodness, justice, etc.; second, a\nhuman intelligence and a human will, together with the perfections of\nthese faculties, as knowledge, wisdom, holiness, etc.\n\n4. As actions, though immediately proceeding from nature, are to\nbe attributed to the subsistence and personality, because nature\ncould not act without being possessed of subsistence, and as the\nsubsistence and personality of both natures of Christ is one--the\npersonality of the Word of God; and as this personality is infinite,\nit follows that the actions of Christ, whether immediately springing\nfrom his human nature, or proceeding from his divine nature, have\nall an infinite worth and excellence, on the ground of the infinite\nworth of the person to whom they must be attributed. This principle,\nso evident, and grounded on the axiom of ideology to which we have\nalluded--_Actiones sunt suppositorum_--has been denied by some,\nespecially Unitarians. But happily the most abstract principles of\nideology have such a bearing upon human dignity that it is easy to\nrefute such would-be philosophers on the strong ground of the dignity\nof the human species. Let us give an instance. How are the actions\nimmediately proceeding from the corporal nature of man, such, for\ninstance, as those of locomotion, distinguished from the actions\nof locomotion in the brutes? And why is it that the actions of\nlocomotion of the first may attain the highest and most heroic moral\nworth, while the same actions in the brute may never have a moral\ndignity? Ontologically they are the same. An animal may move its\nfoot; I may do the same; both movements may save the life of a man.\nIn me, the stirring of my foot may have the dignity of a moral and\nheroic action. In the brute, it can never have it. What causes the\ndifference? The difference lies in the fact that I am a person, the\nbrute is not. I, being a person, the supreme, first, and independent\nprinciple of action of both my natures, corporal and spiritual, it\nfollows that all actions radically flowing from either of my natures\nare to be attributed to me as person, as the supreme and independent\nprinciple of them; and as I, as a person, am capable of moral\ndignity, all the actions, whether proceeding from my corporal or my\nspiritual nature, become capable of moral worth and dignity.\n\nIn Christ, the personality or the supreme and independent principle\nof action of both his natures, human and divine, being one, it is\nevident that whether his actions radically proceed from his human\nnature, or spring from his divine nature, they must all be attributed\nto his one and single person; and as the person is infinite, the\nworth and dignity of all his actions is simply infinite. As in man\nthe personality of both corporal and spiritual natures being capable\nof morality, the action springing from either nature may have a moral\ndignity and worth. We shall conclude this article by answering a few\nobjections raised by Unitarians against the hypostatic union. We\nshall take them verbatim from Dr. Channing's lecture on _Unitarian\nChristianity_:\n\n     \"According to this doctrine, (the doctrine of those who hold\n     the hypostatic union,) Jesus Christ, instead of being one mind,\n     one conscious intelligent principle, whom we can understand,\n     consists of two souls, two minds: the one divine, the other\n     human; the one weak, the other almighty; the one ignorant, the\n     other omniscient. Now, we maintain that this is to make Christ\n     two beings. To denominate him one person, one being, and yet to\n     suppose him made up of two minds infinitely different from each\n     other, is to abuse and confound language, and to throw darkness\n     over all our conceptions of intelligent natures. According to the\n     common doctrine, each of those two minds in Christ has its own\n     consciousness, its own will, its own perceptions. They have,\n     in fact, no common properties. The divine mind feels none of\n     the wants and sorrows of the human, and the human is infinitely\n     removed from the perfections and happiness of the divine. Can you\n     conceive of two beings in the universe more distinct? We have\n     always thought that one person was constituted and distinguished\n     by one consciousness. The doctrine that one and the same person\n     should have two consciousnesses, two wills, two souls infinitely\n     different from each other, this we think an enormous tax on human\n     credulity.\"[33]\n\nWe are not, of course, aware from what source or teachers Dr.\nChanning learned the doctrine of the hypostatic union. Of one thing\nwe are fully assured, that the Catholic Church never taught, first,\nthat in Christ there are two souls. He is endowed with a human soul,\nbelonging to the human nature of which he is possessed. The infinite\nand divine nature of the Word, of which Christ is also preserved,\nhas never, in theological language, been called a soul, nor can we\ndenominate it by that name except in loose and metaphorical language,\nunworthy of a philosopher and theologian who is stating points of\ndoctrine.\n\nAgain, the Catholic Church never taught that the human soul of Christ\nwas ignorant. This may have been the opinion of those from whom Dr.\nChanning may have drawn the theory of the hypostatic union; but in\nstating a doctrine in which all Christendom concurs, Protestant\nas well as Catholic, we should have thought it more honest if Dr.\nChanning, not satisfied with his own teachers, would have taken the\npains to ascertain what two hundred and fifty millions of Christians\nhold about it.\n\nThe first real objection of Dr. Channing is as follows:\n\n     \"We maintain that this (to attribute to Christ two natures in one\n     person) is to make Christ two beings.\"\n\nThe same looseness and want of accuracy of philosophical language.\nWhat does Dr. Channing mean by _being_? If by being is meant nature,\nof course we do all attribute to Christ two natures, the human and\nthe divine.\n\nIf by being is meant person, we deny flatly that to attribute to\nChrist two natures is to make him two persons.\n\nLet the reverend doctor prove the intrinsic impossibility of two\ndistinct natures being united in one single subsistence and person,\nand then we shall grant him that Christ, being possessed of two\nnatures, is two persons also. But such impossibility can never be\ndemonstrated; for the fact of the union between soul and body in man,\nin the unity of one single personality, is a contradiction to all\nsuch pretended impossibility. We have, moreover, shown in the course\nof this article the intrinsic possibility of such supposition.\n\nDr. Channing continues:\n\n     \"To denominate him one person, one being, and yet to suppose him\n     made up of two minds infinitely different from each other, is to\n     abuse and confound language, and to throw darkness over all our\n     conceptions of intelligent natures.\"\n\nIf our reverend opponent chooses to look with contempt and slight\non all distinct and accurate notions of ideology, which he calls,\nin another place, vain philosophy; if he prefers to form crude and\nundigested ideas; if he will not sound to the very depth the nature,\nthe faculties of intelligent beings, their acts, the genesis of\ntheir acts, their distinctions from other faculties and their acts;\nbut loves rather to argue from ideas common to men who have never\nthought and thought deeply on these subjects, and distinguished them\ncarefully, and classified them, is it any fault of ours if, when we\npropound the true philosophical doctrines about these subjects, Dr.\nChanning's ideas should become confused, and that darkness should\nspread over that which was never clear?\n\n     \"According to the common doctrine, each of these two minds\n     in Christ has its own consciousness, its own will, its own\n     perceptions. They have, in fact, no common properties. Can you\n     conceive of two beings in the universe more distinct?\"\n\nIf by being the doctor meant natures, we cannot conceive any thing in\nthe universe more distinct, for which reason Catholicity teaches that\nthere are two _distinct_ natures in Christ.\n\nIf by being the doctor means that those two natures must make two\npersons, we cannot grant the assertion, and ask again for proofs.\n\n     \"We have always thought that one person was constituted and\n     distinguished by one consciousness.\"\n\nThis is the only show of reason we can find in the whole passage\nwe have been refuting; and we have no hesitation in affirming\nthat, if our opponent thought that one person is constituted by\none consciousness, in the sense that when an intelligent nature\nis endowed with consciousness it must necessarily possess a\npersonality of its own, so that consciousness and personality may\nbe said to be identical, as the doctor supposes, he was wrong in\nthinking so, and should study more deeply into the distinctive\nessence of consciousness and personality. We may make the following\nsuppositions, according to true ideology:\n\n1st. An intelligent nature, having consciousness of itself, may have\na personality of its own, as is the common case in human nature.\n\n2d. An intelligent nature, having the consciousness of itself, may\nbe deprived of its own personality and subsist of the personality\nof another, simply because consciousness and personality are two\ndistinct things, and may either go together or be separated, without\none being affected by the other.\n\nPersonality is the last complement of an intelligent nature, by which\nit forms a whole apart from all others, possessing itself, and being\nsolidary of its actions.\n\nConsciousness, or the _me_, is nothing more than the notion of an\nintelligent activity which perceives the identity of itself, thinking\nand reasoning with the act which perceives such identity. It rises in\nman in that first moment on which he becomes aware that the act which\nperceives the reasoning activity is not something different from\nitself, but something identical with the reasoning activity. In that\nfirst instant in which he perceives himself, man may pronounce, I.\n\nHe that says I, in uttering that monosyllable testifies of being\nconscious that there is an activity, that this activity is the\nsame which reflects, speaks, and announces itself, perceiving this\nactivity.\n\nNow, it is evident that the two notions of personality and\nconsciousness are absolutely distinct, and as such they may be\nseparated; and that the one can exist without the other in the sense\nalready explained. Consequently, supposing an individual composed of\ntwo natures, one divine, the other human, both brought together in\nthe unity of one divine person, it follows that the divine nature has\nconsciousness of itself; in other words, is conscious that there is\nan infinite activity which perceives itself, and is conscious of the\nidentity between the activity and the perception of that activity.\nIt follows, in the second place, that the human mind of the human\nnature has also a consciousness of itself; that is, that in itself\nthere is a finite activity, and that activity perceives itself, and\nis conscious of the identity between the activity and the act of\nperception.\n\nThe divine nature in this one divine person would be conscious\nof being that supreme and independent principle of action of the\nnatures; whereas the human nature would not be conscious of being\nsuch a supreme and independent principle of action, but dependent and\nsubject.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[29] Strauss, _La Vie de J\u00e9sus_. Par Littr\u00e9, Paris.\n\n[30] We read this passage as St. Cyril of Alexandria, St. Augustine,\nBeda, and others read it.\n\n[31] St. John i.\n\n[32] This species of union is what, in theological language, would be\ncalled confirmation in grace, and took place in the Blessed Virgin\nand in some saints.\n\n[33] _Unitarian Christianity_, p. 196.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SEVEN BISHOPS.\n\n\nWe found, in a leading daily paper of New York the other day,\nan editorial remark which illustrates so well the propensity of\nProtestant journalists toward inconsistency whenever they deal with\nthe relations between civil government and the Catholic Church, that\nwe here cite it in full:\n\n     \"Spain,\" said _The Tribune_, \"is going to have a trial of the\n     seven bishops. There will be some difference, however, between\n     the question at issue in the Spanish trial and that in the famous\n     English cause which Macaulay describes as the most important\n     recorded in the history of England. In the Spanish case, the cause\n     of freedom will be represented rather by the government, who\n     prosecutes seven bishops for resistance of the secular authority,\n     than by the prelates who are to be placed on their defence. It\n     seems to us a good omen when they venture to put bishops on trial\n     for any thing in Spain.\"\n\nNow, _The Tribune_ has always been a foremost advocate for complete\nseparation of church and state. When the new government of Spain\ndecreed freedom of religious worship, _The Tribune_, in common with\nother American journals, hailed the measure with delight, as a great\nstep toward the mutual independence of the two orders. But here,\nin this Spanish affair, there is a more absolute and oppressive\nassertion of their union than even Henry VIII. ever ventured upon\nin the creation of the Anglican establishment. Only, since the\nunion is effected by a tyrannical assertion of the supremacy of the\nsecular over ecclesiastical authority, Protestant writers see in it\nan evidence of progress and liberality. It makes so much difference\nwhether it is my bull that is gored, or your ox.\n\nThe parallel, however, between the seven bishops under James II., and\nthe seven bishops under Serrano, (their number has been increased\nto ten since that paragraph was written, and before our readers see\nthese pages may be raised still higher,) is such a fortunate one that\nwe purpose looking at it a little more closely. It will be found, we\nthink, to tell strongly for our side, and to teach some lessons which\nthe Spanish regency can ill afford to disregard.\n\nIn 1687, King James II. published his celebrated Declaration\nof Indulgence, by which, after expressing his conviction that\nconsciences could not be forced, and religious persecution always\nfailed of its object, he proceeded to suspend the execution of all\npenal laws against the Catholics and Dissenters alike, to authorize\nall religious bodies to hold public worship after their own\nfashion, and to dispense with all religious tests as qualifications\nfor any civil or military office. Whatever may be said of the\nconstitutionality of this declaration, it was unquestionably in\naccordance with the principles of freedom and justice which have\nsince been recognized completely in this country, and are gradually\nbecoming established in Great Britain and all other constitutional\nstates. The Declaration of Indulgence might to-day be accepted in\nevery particular as the platform of the English liberals or _The New\nYork Tribune_. The Protestant party in James's day, however, was any\nthing but the party of religious freedom or liberal ideas. Church\nand state, in their minds, must be one--and that one the Protestant\nchurch. The declaration was violently resisted. A year later (April\n27th, 1688,) James issued a second declaration, repeating the points\nof the former one, and proclaiming his unalterable resolution\nto carry it into effect. By an order in council he subsequently\ncommanded that this paper should be read on two successive Sundays at\nthe time of divine service by the officiating ministers of all the\nchurches and chapels of the kingdom. \"The clergy of the Established\nChurch,\" says Macaulay, \"with scarcely an exception, regarded the\nindulgence as a violation of the laws of the realm, as a breach\nof the plighted faith of the king, and as a fatal blow levelled\nat the interest and dignity of their own profession.\" The order\nwas generally disobeyed. The Archbishop of Canterbury and six of\nhis suffragans presented a petition to the king, recounting their\nobjections to the declaration and their reasons for refusing to order\nits publication in church. For this they were committed to the tower,\nand tried before the court of king's bench on a charge of seditious\nlibel. In the midst of the most intense popular excitement they were\nacquitted, and that day, the 30th of June, 1688, is often referred to\nas the crisis of the English revolution. So far as it was a political\nmovement, this affair of the bishops represents a victory of the\npeople over the arbitrary authority of the crown. So far as it was\na religious movement, it represents a triumph of the secular power\nover what are called the great Protestant principles of liberty of\nconscience and freedom of worship. Though the bishops may have been\npolitical martyrs, they stand nevertheless as the representatives of\nreligious intolerance, proscription, and persecution.\n\nAnd what is the case of the bishops in Spain? Since the overthrow of\nIsabella, the country has been in a state little better than anarchy.\nThe regency of Serrano, though it probably commands the adhesion\nof a majority of the people, has never been generally acquiesced\nin. Republicans, Carlists, Isabellistas are strong enough to cause\nthe regency grave apprehension, and are only kept down by military\npower. The Carlists especially display a vitality which proves them\nto possess a strong hold of some kind upon the country, and to be\nmuch more than the little band of miserable conspirators which Madrid\ndespatches represent them. It is difficult to know the truth about\nthem; for we get little news from Spain, except such as filters\nthrough the offices of the regency at Madrid. It is said, however,\nthat the clergy in general are favorable to the Carlists, which,\nconsidering the manner in which the churches and convents have been\nplundered by the existing authorities at the capital, is not at all\nunlikely. To put the clergy entirely at the mercy of the civil power,\nthe regent issued, on the 5th of August, the following extraordinary\ndecree:\n\n     \"DECREE.\n\n     \"At the proposal of the minister of grace and justice, and with\n     the approbation of the council of ministers, I ordain as follows:\n\n     \"Article 1st. That an exhortation shall be made, and I hereby\n     make it to the most reverend archbishops and the right reverend\n     bishops to send immediately to the government, as is their bounden\n     duty, a circumstantial account of all those ecclesiastics of their\n     respective dioceses who have abandoned the churches to which\n     they were appointed, in order to combat the political situation\n     established by the Constitutional Cortes.\n\n     \"Article 2d. The most reverend archbishops and right reverend\n     bishops are charged to send to the government, immediately\n     after their acquaintance with this decree, and without delays\n     or excuses being listened to, a statement of the canonical and\n     public measures they may have adopted, during the separation and\n     abandonment of the rebel priests, with a view not only to correct\n     and restrain them, but also to repair the most grievous scandal\n     produced among the faithful by such disloyal and reckless conduct;\n     and the government reserves to itself, after examining the reports\n     which the prelates may transmit to the ministry of grace and\n     justice, the adoption of such other measures as it may consider\n     expedient.\n\n     \"Article 3d. It being notorious that many ecclesiastics excite the\n     innocent minds of some people against the laws and decisions voted\n     by the Cortes, and also against the order which I have issued\n     for their fulfilment, let the most reverend archbishops, right\n     reverend bishops, and ecclesiastical administrators send round\n     their dioceses for circulation, within the precise term of eight\n     days, a short pastoral edict, exhorting their flocks to obedience\n     to the constituted authorities; and the said prelates shall,\n     without loss of time, transmit a copy of the said edict to the\n     secretary of the said ministry.\n\n     \"_Article 4th. The most reverend archbishops and the right\n     reverend bishops are likewise charged to withdraw the faculties of\n     confessing and preaching from those priests who are notoriously\n     displeased with, who have not hesitated to make an ostensible\n     display of opposition to the constitutional regimen._\n\n     \"Article 5th. The government will render account of this decree to\n     the Cortes.\n\n                               \"FRANCISCO SERRANO.\n\n            \"MANUEL RUIZ ZORRILLA,\n                \"_Minister of Grace and Justice_.\"\n\nIt is difficult to imagine a bolder usurpation of authority. If\npriests are found guilty of political offences, the regent has the\n_power_ (we do not speak of the right) to proceed against them just\nas he would against lay citizens. Not satisfied with that, he wishes\nto impose ecclesiastical penalties also for political heterodoxy,\nto constitute himself the hierarchical superior of all the bishops\nand archbishops in Spain, to dictate the terms of their pastoral\naddresses, and to make the church a mere instrument of oppression\nin the hands of the civil power. He orders the prelates to turn\ninformers. He instructs them to lay punishments upon the parochial\nclergy in plain violation of canon law. Worse than all, in the 4th\narticle of his decree, he commands the bishops to take away the\nfaculties of hearing confessions and preaching from all priests who\nare even \"displeased with the constitutional regimen.\" Comment upon\nsuch an order is entirely superfluous. If it were obeyed, probably\nthree fourths of the parishes in Spain would be without pastors.\nAs a matter of course, the bishops have tacitly refused to comply\nwith this decree, and Serrano threatens to proceed against the most\nobnoxious of them for disobedience.\n\nNow, let any impartial person compare the cases of the English and\nthe Spanish bishops, and tell us which represents the more perfectly\nthe cause of just government and enlightened principles. Both\nrefused obedience to an order of the chief civil authority of the\nrealm because they held it to be an unwarrantable intrusion upon the\ndignity and independence of their order, and a violation of the laws.\nHerein the cases are parallel. The difference between them is just\nthis, that the order of James, though it was unconstitutional, was\na good and liberal measure in itself, while the order of Serrano is\nnot only illegal but tyrannous. How can _The Tribune_ say that \"in\nthe Spanish case, the cause of freedom will be represented rather by\nthe government who prosecutes seven bishops for resistance of the\nsecular authority, than by the prelates who are to be placed on their\ndefence\"? To our view, Serrano appears as the champion of civil and\necclesiastical despotism, and the bishops are martyrs in the cause of\npolitical freedom and religious independence.\n\nJames II. calculated that the power of the throne would be sufficient\nin any case to insure the conviction of his seven bishops; but the\nprosecution failed; the dissenting sects, which would have benefited\nfrom his indulgence equally with the Catholics, united with the\nAnglican Church to withstand him; the people fell on their knees\nbefore the bishops in the streets; and in six months the king was a\nfugitive. Will Spain pursue the parallel to this point? No government\ncan afford to be unjust. No government, especially which bases its\nauthority upon the consent of the people can last long after it has\nbecome arbitrary and oppressive. Men love equity instinctively, and\nthe decree of the Spanish regent will be worth more to the Carlists\nthan an army of soldiers.\n\n\n\n\nLINES ON THE PONTIFICAL HAT PRESERVED IN MADAME UZIELLI'S PRIVATE\nORATORY.\n\n\n    O high exalted instinct of the soul!\n      That evermore doth find\n    A grace and hidden splendor not their own\n      In things of curious kind;\n\n    Casket, or signet-ring, or coat of mail,\n      Or ermined robe of state,\n    That once belonged to history's champions,\n      The good, the wise, the great!\n\n    This relic fair, which love most Catholic\n      Devoutly treasures here,\n    To me, beholding it, than rubied crown\n      More glorious doth appear.\n\n    For cinctured round with spiry wheaten ears\n      And clustering grapes of gold,\n    Types of the pure oblation offered now\n      For bloody rites of old,\n\n    Here, (by no freak of fancy,) underneath\n      Its rim of mystic red,\n    It shaded from a Roman summer's sun\n      The sacred snow-white head\n\n    Of our dear Pius; as from church to church,\n      Amidst the kneeling throng,\n    Serene he passed--a vision of delight,\n      The ancient ways along!\n\n    Angels of Rome! oh! shield that head beloved\n      From danger and all fears;\n    Watch o'er the pontiff brave, the sovereign good,\n      The priest of fifty years!\n\n    And when his hour arrives, so long postponed\n      By Christendom's fond prayer,\n    May he in heaven's own hierarchy throned,\n      Be still our glory there!\n\n    _Oratory, Birmingham._             E. CASWALL.\n\n\n\n\nFOREIGN LITERARY NOTES.\n\n\nIn his latest historical work, (_Isabelle de Castille. Grandeur\net D\u00e9cadence de l'Espagne_,) the distinguished historian, M.\nCapefigue, says that, besides other debts to Isabella of Castile,\nSpaniards also owe an association that saved Spain from disorder\nand anarchy--_La Santa Hermandad_, the holy brotherhood, whose\nlaw was that of absolute solidarity. Cervantes, in _Don Quixote_,\nnever lets an occasion pass of praising the brotherhood, with which\nIsabella also introduced the holy office--the Inquisition. It is\nour habit, says M. Capefigue, in matters historical, to avoid the\nadoption of ready-made opinions, and more especially declamations.\nWe must examine with judgment the customs, the institutions, of a\nperiod--the necessities of an epoch. Then, frequently, every thing is\njustified and explained. Power is not inflexible through pleasure or\ncaprice, but through necessity. Ogres only exist in fairy tales. In\npolitical history there are no men who from mere caprice eat human\nflesh. There are two periods in the history of the Inquisition. In\nthe first, it rendered immense services. Ferdinand and Isabella\nhad just delivered Spain. But the Moors still covered the land,\nand had to be watched. In constant communication with the Arabs in\nAfrica, they ceased not to invoke the aid of their brethren across\nthe strait. Together they conspired to reconquer Andalusia, the\npromised land of the Arabs, who never ceased longing for the lovely\ncountries watered by the Guadalquivir. Theirs it was to hope and to\nplot. Spain's it was to detect and punish them. In times of peril\nfor a state, exceptional powers are given, extraordinary tribunals\ncreated. At a period exclusively religious, the sign of Spanish\nnationality was Catholicity. Christian was the synonym of citizen,\nand the holy office was charged with the police of the state against\nthose who accepted not the law of the land. Not only France but other\ncountries have had their committees of public safety and their\nrevolutionary tribunals. In the second period, the Inquisition--no\nlonger useful to the state--became a tribunal of theology. It\npursued heresy, which in societies based on religious principles is\nalways a danger. Most remarkable is it that even in its decline the\nInquisition preserved its popularity so largely among the great men\nof Spain. Lope de Vega was the chief of familiars of the holy office.\nCalderon was one of its most ardent members, bearing its banners at\n_autos da fe_. Velasquez gloried in the title. Murillo paints the\nflowers--the saints that ornament the _san benito_--and Zurbaran\ntakes his grandest heads from the Dominican fathers of the _santa\nfide_. Without the guard and protection of the Inquisition, Spain\nwould not have effected the great things in her history. Torn by\ninterior dissensions, she would not have had the Americas; the reign\nof Charles V. would not have been so glorious, nor would she have\ngained the battle of Lepanto and saved Christian Europe.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe French publisher, V. Palm\u00e9, announces as in press the celebrated\nwork of Cardinal Jacobatius, _De Concilio_, forming the introduction\nto the grand collection of councils.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe 14th, 15th, and 16th volumes of the _Bullarum, diplomatum et\nprivilegiorum sanctorum Romanorum pontificum Taurinensi editio_ have\njust been published at Turin. The 14th volume includes the years\nfrom the sixth to the sixteenth of the pontificate of Urban VIII.\n(1628-39;) the 15th terminates that pontificate and contains that of\nInnocent X. (1639-54;) and the 16th embraces the first seven years of\nAlexander VII. (1655-62.) The bulls and constitutions are published\nin chronological order. Some idea of their number may be formed from\nthe fact that of Urban VIII. there are 829, of Innocent X. 199,\nof Alexander VII. 385. Each volume has _index nominum et rerum\npr\u00e6cipuarum, index initialis, index rubricarum_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nLate French papers announce the death of the Baron de Croze, formerly\ndeputy from the department of Charente Inf\u00e9rieure, father-in-law of\nCount Anatole Lemercier, and for some years Cameriere of his holiness\nPius IX. The holy father was much attached to Baron de Croze, and\nfrequently held with him long and familiar conversations on politics\nand history. Some ten years ago, the Baron addressed a memorial to\nPius IX., strongly urging his holiness to restore the Coliseum and\nto appeal to the entire world for the immense sums necessary for\nso great a work as the restoration of the noblest monument of the\nantique grandeur of the Romans. \"My dear son,\" replied Pius IX., \"I\nhave seen your memorial, and thank you for it; but do you not know\nthat there are two kinds of vandalism, the one of destruction, the\nother of restoration? Never has the Coliseum been more beautiful\nthan in the moving contrast of the splendor of its past and the\nmagnificence of its ruins. To restore them would, it seems to me, be\nan artistic sacrilege, and would annihilate the work of ages only to\nproduce a poor and colorless counterfeit. Think no more of it, _caro\nmio_.\" And the baron thought no more of it.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe Parisian publishing circulars announce in press and soon\nto appear the celebrated Theology of Salamanca, _Collegii\nSalamanticensis Cursus Theologicus_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIn a late German bibliographical catalogue we remark the name\nof a saint we now see for the first time, and concerning whom\nwe acknowledge ourselves utterly ignorant. It occurs in the\ntitle of a work thus announced: _Sainct Velociped. Eine Moderne\nReiselegende_--Saint Velocipede. A Legend of Modern Travel.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_Saint Agobard, Archev\u00eaque de Lyon, sa Vie et ses Ecrits_, par M.\nl'Abb\u00e9 P. Chevallard, is the title of a handsome octavo volume\njust published at Lyons. Saint Agobard's life covered the period\nfrom 779 to 840, and, with his writings, forms an important page\nof the history of the church in France during the ninth century.\nHis episcopal career was active, and his influence on the religious\nquestions and discipline of his time considerable. The history of\nthis holy man is necessarily attached to that of the reign of Louis\nle D\u00e9bonnaire. St. Agobard's reputation for talent and learning\nhas never been contested, and historians and critics unite in the\nopinion that he was the first mind of his period in France. It is\nnot exclusively within the church, nor by Catholics alone, that\nSt. Agobard is thus highly appreciated. MM. Guizot and Amp\u00e8re have\nspoken with great admiration of him; Amp\u00e8re particularly mentions\nhis intelligent efforts in combating a widely spread and deeply\nrooted belief that a disastrous epidemic which carried off thousands\nof cattle was caused by the emissaries of the Duke of Benevento,\nwho--said popular report--scattered powders over the fields and in\nthe fountains, thus producing sudden death of the animals. Something\nsimilar is recounted by Manzoni in his _Promessi Sposi_, where he\ndescribes the _Untori_ and the pretended cholera poisoners. Besides\nthe essays of St. Agobard on theology, liturgy, and ecclesiastical\ndiscipline, his writings on the superstitions of his period, and on\nthe pernicious influence of the Jews in Lyons, are remarkable and of\nhigh value in an historical point of view.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nMuch indignation has been expressed in several European and English\npapers concerning an imaginary prohibition of the pope to the\nphysicians of Rome from attending any person who, after three days'\nmedical attendance, should refuse the sacraments. The paragraphs\ncontaining the indignation have been widely copied in the United\nStates, and we therefore notice the silly statement. The existence\nand validity of an old brief of Sixtus V. is probably the origin of\nthe singular blunder. The brief in question orders doctors, under\npain of excommunication, to warn the parish priest of the patient's\ndanger, if, after three days, he appears in peril of life; but beyond\nthat the doctor cannot act, and continues his attendance to the last,\nirrespective of the patient's religious state or dispositions. And\nthe provision is evidently wise and humane. In very many cases it is\ndangerous for the patient to know that his physician considers him\nin peril of death. To advise his family is much the same as to tell\nthe patient; and the obvious prudence of the matter is to notify the\nparish priest, who can act according to the necessities of the case.\nSo much for one of the many falsehoods of the day. Like many others,\nit has travelled fast and far. Will this refutation overtake it?\nDoubtful.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nA new history of Pope Pius IX. is announced as almost ready for\npublication: _Histoire de Pie IX. et de son Pontificat_, par M.\nAlexandre de Saint Albin.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe distinguished Father Theiner, of Rome, has lately given his\nfriends occasion to regret that he had not remained known to the\nliterary world by his _Monumenta_ alone. No words but those of praise\nand admiration could then have been found for him. Our occasion for\nthis remark is his late controversy--or series of controversies--with\nM. Cr\u00e9tineau-Joly, concerning the Cardinals Consalvi and Caprara, and\nBishop Bernier, touching their connection with the concordat of 1801.\nThe matter has culminated in an octavo volume lately out, _Bonaparte,\nle Concordat de 1801 et le Cardinal Consalvi, suivi des deux Lettres\nau P\u00e8re Theiner sur le Pape Clement XIV._, par J. Cr\u00e9tineau-Joly; and\nof which we made mention in our August number. M. Cr\u00e9tineau-Joly is a\nterrible adversary, and wields a trenchant blade. Such a rapid shower\nof cut, thrust, back, forward, and circular strokes is rarely seen.\nIt is to be regretted, however, that M. Joly, in the abundance of his\npower of replication and retort, should not have been content with\ntelling Father Theiner, as he does, \"You have been given a bad cause\nto sustain, and you defend it with bad arguments.\" But blood becomes\nas hot in literary quarrels as in physical combats, and M. Joly\ngoes entirely too far when he talks about surprising his adversary,\n\"_Vingt fois, trente fois, en flagrant d\u00e9bit de mensonge_.\" Those who\nknow Father Theiner are satisfied that he is in this case the victim\nof his imagination and of his simplicity, and that, moreover, he has\nbeen badly advised.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nDr. F. W. Kampschulte, Professor of History at the University of\nBonn, has hitherto been known as an author only by a few works of\nsecondary importance, such as his _History of the Ancient University\nof Erfurt_. He has, however, just taken rank quite suddenly among the\nbest historians of Germany by his lately published _Johann Calvin,\nseine Kirche und sein Staat in Genf_, (John Calvin, his Church and\nhis State at Geneva.) The first volume alone is as yet published.\nBut this one is quite enough to display remarkable erudition, and an\namount of literary labor nothing less than enormous. Dr. Kampschulte\nasserts on good grounds that, without the assistance of Berne,\nGenevan Protestantism would never have succeeded as it did, and he\nhas, accordingly, thoroughly and successfully searched the archives\nof Berne for new and valuable documents. Finally, the author has\nnot, like too many of his predecessors in the same field, been\ncontent to take for Calvin's correspondence Beza's edition of the\n_Epistol\u00e6 et Responsa Calvini_, which really contains but a small\nportion of Calvin's correspondence, but has with wonderful labor and\nperseverance collected a large amount of Calvin's letters hitherto\nunknown, and which were dispersed throughout Europe.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nA second edition of the _Bibliotheque des \u00e9crivains de la Compagnie\nde J\u00e9sus_, par le P. Augustin de Backer, is announced as soon to\nbe published. It will be in three volumes in folio, each volume to\ncontain about three thousand columns, and will be placed at the very\nlow price of forty-five francs. It will not be for sale in the usual\nmanner by booksellers, and we therefore make special mention of\nit. Persons desiring to obtain it may address the author, (College\nSaint Servais, Li\u00e8ge, Belgique,) or the publisher of the _Etudes\nReligieuses, Historiques et Litt\u00e9raires_, (_No. 18 Rue Lhomond, \u00e0\nParis_.) The first edition, commenced by Fathers Augustin and Alois\nde Backer, appeared in 1855, in seven vols. 8vo. The new edition,\nbesides being in a single alphabetical series, will contain numerous\ncorrections and additions. It also contains articles on controversies\nof special interest, such as the publication of the _Acta Sanctorum_,\nthe origin of the order of _Carmel_, etc.\n\n\n\n\nNEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n\n     LECTURES AND ESSAYS ON IRISH AND OTHER SUBJECTS. By Henry Giles.\n     New York: D. & J. Sadlier & Co.\n\nBesides biographical lectures on O'Connell, Curran, Dr. Doyle, Oliver\nGoldsmith, and Gerald Griffin, this volume contains other lectures on\nthe spirit of Irish history, Irish social character, etc., which many\nof our readers have, doubtless, heard delivered by the author in his\npleasant and effective style.\n\nMr. Giles is of Irish birth, and for many years officiated and\npreached as a Unitarian minister. There can be no doubt that his\nIrish patriotism is sincere and enthusiastic, and yet, as we read,\nwe feel as though something were wanting. For reasons that can\nbe perfectly well understood without detailed explanation, Irish\npatriotic character always appears incomplete without Catholicity.\nOliver Goldsmith and the Duke of Wellington are as much of Irish\nbirth as Dr. Doyle and Daniel O'Connell; but how much more\nessentially Irish to every one are the two latter than the two\nformer. The Catholic reader of these lectures sadly misses what he\nfeels to be most essential. Take, for instance, the lectures on\nO'Connell, Gerald Griffin, and Dr. Doyle, which are among the best,\nand he perceives the absence of an element of appreciation that\nnothing but Catholic sympathy could supply. These papers have high\nmerit as oral lectures, and precisely because of this merit they fall\nshort of their reputation when read. The effective lecture is not\nnecessarily an effective essay. There are certain elements nowadays\nalmost indispensable to the success of a lecture, and they happen\nto be precisely those which detract from its literary merit. The\nredundancy of anecdote is one of these elements, and Mr. Giles was\nstrongly given to it.\n\nThe book is, nevertheless, pleasant reading, although such essays\nas \"The Christian Idea in Catholic Art and in Protestant Culture\"\nafford additional proof--if any were needed--of the barrenness of\nProtestantism in art.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     ORDER AND CHAOS: A Lecture, delivered at Loyola College,\n     Baltimore, in July, 1869. By T. W. M. Marshall, Esq. Baltimore:\n     John Murphy & Co. 1869.\n\nMr. Marshall, who is both one of the most solid and altogether the\nwittiest of English writers, delivered this lecture in Baltimore\nbefore a select audience, on the eve of his return to England. It\nis a well-reasoned argument, clothed in the author's usual choice\nand happy style, and spiced with a seasonable amount of his humor.\nIts topic is the order prevailing in the Catholic Church contrasted\nwith the disorder which rules among the sects, as a proof that the\nformer is of God, while the latter are of man. We quote the following\nextract, which contains a well-delivered blow at the disunionists:\n\n     \"You are asked to believe, by those who prefer the temple of\n     chaos to the sanctuary of God, this monstrous proposition: that\n     although disorder is inexorably banished, as we have seen, from\n     every other part of his dominions, as a thing abhorrent to the\n     Divine Architect, it finds its true home and congenial refuge\n     precisely in that spiritual kingdom of which he is at once the\n     lawgiver and the life. Brute matter knows nothing of it; earth,\n     and sea, and sky refuse to give it a place; the very beasts\n     of the field obey a law which regulates all the conditions of\n     their existence; but confusion and chaos, which can find a home\n     nowhere else, reign, and ought to reign, in the Christian church,\n     and in the kingdom of souls! That is the proposition which is\n     deliberately maintained, at this hour and in this land, by men\n     whose profession it is to teach others eternal truth. They gravely\n     assert that religion--which, when it is divine, is a bond of union\n     stronger than adamant, and when it is human, is the most active\n     dissolvent, the most powerful disintegrating agent which divides\n     and devastates modern society--_gains_ by ceasing to be one,\n     and that Christianity derives its chief vitality from the very\n     divisions which make it contemptible in the sight of unbelievers,\n     and had often provoked the scorn and derision even of the pagan\n     world. As this statement may seem to you impossible, even in\n     this nineteenth century, which is tolerant of all absurdities in\n     the sphere of religion, I will quote to you the very words of\n     one of the most conspicuous preachers of this land, who holds a\n     high position in the hierarchy of chaos. I take them from one of\n     your own local journals, of the second of this month, (June.)\n     You know that of late years many Protestants, weary of their\n     ceaseless conflicts and ashamed of their unending divisions,\n     have begun at last to sigh for the unity which they have lost,\n     and that in England they have even formed a society with the\n     express object of bringing together what they ignorantly call\n     'the different branches of the church.' We are told, however,\n     by the journal to which I allude, that the Reverend Henry Ward\n     Beecher, vehemently rejecting every such project, lately 'preached\n     against the schemes of church union, whether planned by pope,\n     protestant, or pagan'--pray understand that these are not my\n     words--and added this characteristic dissuasive from unity.\n     'The strength of the Christian religion lies,' he said--in what\n     do you suppose? in its truth, its holiness, or its peace? no,\n     but--'_in the number of the existing denominations_.' The hands\n     fall down in reading such words. 'I pray,' said He who will judge\n     the world, 'that they may all be _one_ as thou, Father, art in\n     me, and I in thee.' I sincerely trust, replies Mr. Beecher, that\n     they never will be one. 'Be perfect,' said St. Paul, 'in the\n     _same mind_ and the _same judgment_.' It is much more important,\n     rejoins Mr. Beecher, that you should maintain your divisions and\n     perpetuate your differences, for in _them_ lies the strength of\n     Christianity. 'Sects,' observed the same apostle, 'are the work\n     of the flesh.' Mr. Beecher judges them more leniently, and warns\n     his hearers, as you see, against the mistake of St. Paul. Yes,\n     these human teachers have come at last to this. They know so well\n     that supernatural unity is beyond _their_ reach, that they have\n     come to hate it, and to call it an evil! Yet even they will not\n     deny that it was the unity of the first Christians which conquered\n     the heathen world; and when the victory was accomplished, and the\n     surviving pagans had only strength enough left to beat themselves\n     against the ground where they had fallen, _they_ also cried out\n     in their impotent rage, '_Execranda est ista consensio_'--cursed\n     be this unity of the Christians. They had found it to be\n     invincible, but did not know that it was divine. Mr. Beecher\n     dares not say openly, 'Cursed be the unity for which Christ\n     prayed,' for even his disciples, though they can bear a good deal,\n     could not bear _that_; but he is not afraid to say, 'Blessed be\n     chaos!' 'Confusion, thou art my choice!' 'Disorder, be thou mine\n     inheritance!' Let us wish him a happier lot, both in this world\n     and the next.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     IN HEAVEN WE KNOW OUR OWN; OR, SOLACE FOR THE SUFFERING. From\n     the French of the Rev. Father Blot, S.J. New York: The Catholic\n     Publication Society. 1869.\n\nWe would call special attention to this delightful little book.\nThe lady translator has conferred a very great service on\nEnglish-speaking Catholics; nor on Catholics alone, but also on all\nprofessing Christians \"of good-will,\" who,\n\n    \"Here in the feeble twilight of this world\n    Groping,\"\n\nin order to satisfy one of their deepest and holiest cravings, and\nnot having known the Catholic Church, nor therefore \"the communion\nof saints,\" have turned--and _most_ naturally--into paths which only\nlead to deception and despair.\n\nThe book before us supplies to \"the afflicted\" who mourn the loss\nof friends a consolation as solid as it is abundant: a proof on\nunshakable grounds of truths which seem to be forgotten even by some\namong Catholics; that human ties _do_ survive the grave; that\n\n    \"There the cherished heart _is_ fond,\n    The eye the same, except in tears;\"\n\nand that the knowledge and love of creatures must necessarily form\nan integral part of the happiness of heaven. The reader will be\nastonished to see what Catholic saints and doctors have said on this\nsubject; and what a stress they have laid on it as a part of their\nown hopes and anticipations. To those, too, in particular, who are\ntempted to despair of the departed, an antidote is here offered for\nthis poison of their rest; an antidote which, we are sure, has long\nbeen needed by many an anxious heart.\n\nIn commending this book, then, to Catholics, we would urge them to\nput it as much as possible in the hands of non-Catholic friends. The\nsuccess of a recent work, entitled _The Gates Ajar_, is evidence\nenough of the hunger that exists in _all_ souls for food of this\nkind. And why should any be left to pick up crumbs, when a full table\ninvites them? A perusal of _In Heaven We Know Our Own_ may open the\neyes of many to the glorious fact it is our privilege to know--that\nthe Catholic religion embraces _all_ truth, and alone can satisfy\n_all_ the soul's cravings:\n\n    \"An endless fountain of immortal drink,\n    Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     MOPSA THE FAIRY. By Jean Ingelow. With illustrations. Boston:\n     Roberts Brothers. 1869.\n\nIf the children wish to visit fairy-land, they could have no better\nguide than Jean Ingelow; yet even she fails to make the fairy-world\nhalf so fair or interesting as our own every-day world. However, Jack\nlearns some good lessons in his visit to fairy-land; for he found\na whole nation of fairies turned into stone for being unkind and\nselfish. Let the little ones take care lest the fate of the fairies\nbefall them. The book is beautifully illustrated, and is altogether a\nvery pleasant book for children.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     TWO YEARS BEFORE THE MAST. A Personal Narrative by Richard Henry\n     Dana, Jr. New edition. Boston: Fields, Osgood & Co. 1869.\n\nTwelve years ago we determined upon a voyage similar to that the\nauthor describes, and from a similar motive.\n\nThis recital of his two years' experience before the mast was put\ninto our hands to deter us from going. We recollect reading it with\nthe greatest interest, and being afterward more anxious to go than\never. After three years' experience, during which we shared all\nthe sailor's toils and pleasures \"fore and aft,\" we returned to a\nstudent's life. It was therefore with some curiosity we reopened\nthis book to see what our judgment would be of this sailor's yarn as\ncompared with our own experience.\n\nBefore, it had the charm of adventure untried; now it gave the\npleasure of again, in imagination, riding the topsail yard-arm amid\nthe wild storm, hauling out the \"weather earing,\" and \"sending her\"\noff the Cape with all hands lashed to the rigging. We have never\nread so vivid yet truthful a description of a sailor's life. It is\nrefreshing to see for once nautical terms correctly and naturally\nused. We suspect that the author's estimate of the character and\nreligion of the people he visited has changed since he wrote. The\ncondition of the Mexicans now, as compared with their peace and\nprosperity under the paternal care of the Catholic missionaries,\nwould surely warrant it.\n\nWe heartily sympathize with the author in his desire to better the\ncondition of seamen. They are a noble, large-hearted class of men. We\nnever expect to meet more courageous, generous, faithful men than\nour comrades at sea. Yet their life, which must be full of toil and\ndanger, is made unnecessarily hard and laborious by unjust treatment.\nThey are over-worked and half-fed at sea, and swindled on shore. If\namong the various protective societies, one were organized to protect\nseamen from shipping masters, brutal officers, and \"boarding-house\nrunners,\" it would be a praiseworthy act.\n\nThe author's account of his later visit to the Pacific coast is very\nacceptably added to this new edition, and shows the great change that\nhas taken place in the condition of our commerce and of our country.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     DIARY, REMINISCENCES, AND CORRESPONDENCE OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON.\n     Selected and edited by Thomas Sadler, Ph.D. 2 vols. 12mo. Pp. 496,\n     555. Boston: Fields, Osgood & Co.\n\nIn the United States, it is only the readers of the literary\nbiography of the last generation that know Henry Crabb Robinson\neven by name; for although he was intimately acquainted with some\nscores of distinguished men, and moved in the best literary society\nof England, he left little or nothing to recall his memory after he\nwas dead, except the immense piles of manuscript from which these\ntwo volumes have been selected. These, we venture to predict, will\nenjoy a permanent place in literature, not much below the _Diary_ of\nPepys and Boswell's _Life of Johnson_. Mr. Robinson, however, had\nnothing of the Pepys or the Boswell in his character. He was a man of\nsharp natural faculties, excellent scholarship, abundant wit, eminent\nsocial accomplishments, and strong character. In his youth he was a\nforeign correspondent and sub-editor of _The Times_. Afterward he\npractised at the bar. But for the most important part of his life,\ncovering a period of some thirty years before his death, he had no\nprofession, and passed his time in the society of literary and other\ncelebrities, with whom, for his extraordinary conversational powers\nand more sterling qualities, he was always a welcome guest. It is\nto his anecdotes and recollections of such men--Lamb, Wordsworth,\nSouthey, Byron, Coleridge, Moore, Rogers, Goethe, Lady Morgan, Lady\nBlessington, Landor, and others--told with spirit and discretion,\nthat the _Diary and Reminiscences_ owe their value. The work of\nselection and arrangement has been performed with excellent judgment,\nand no one who takes up the volumes will readily lay them aside.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE ELEMENTS OF THEORETICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE ASTRONOMY; for the use\n     of Colleges and Academies. By Charles J. White, A.M., Assistant\n     Professor of Astronomy and Navigation in the United States\n     Naval Academy. 16mo, 272 pp. Philadelphia: Claxton, Remsen &\n     Haffelfinger, 819 and 821 Market street. 1869.\n\nMost writers of text-books, probably, are impelled to their task by\nan impression that a void exists which only can be filled by a work\nanswering to a conception which they have formed in the course of\ntheir studies. This arises from the fact that few subjects of study\ncan be thoroughly mastered by merely imbibing the ideas of another\nperson, and that consequently every one who spends much time in\nacquiring, or particularly in teaching, any science, is obliged to\nthink a good deal upon the subject, and hence to arrange it almost\nnecessarily in his own mind in a different shape, and probably one\nbetter adapted to himself, than that in which it was presented to\nhim. Finding nothing just like this among existing text-books, he\nnaturally concludes that the really systematic arrangement has yet to\nbe given, and by himself.\n\nThis every teacher perhaps is tempted to do; but unfortunately, the\nbest teachers, who perceive what difficulties are met with by the\nmass of students, sometimes deny themselves the pleasure, or are\nperhaps unable to indulge in it, while others supply books suited\nonly to a few. Sometimes, also, no void remains, having been already\nfilled. But in this subject of astronomy there certainly was a need\nof a new work sufficiently precise and condensed to present salient\npoints to the mind of the student, and form matter for a recitation,\nwithout being unnecessarily technical and uninteresting. Herschel's\n_Outlines_, though an interesting and thoroughly scientific work,\nand clear in its explanations, is rather fit to be read than to be\nstudied or recited from; yet this was undoubtedly the best book for\nthose not wishing to pursue astronomy professionally, but merely to\nacquire a sufficient knowledge of it for a liberal education, or to\nunderstand navigation and other branches of knowledge in which it is\ninvolved.\n\nMr. White's book is exactly what was wanted for this purpose,\nsupplying all Herschel's defects for the student, being nearly or\nquite as clear, and much more concise. It also contains other matters\nwhich would not usually be found except in works on what is called\npractical astronomy, but which are necessary for any one who desires\nto make use of his knowledge; which end is also secured throughout by\nthe precise and definite form in which every thing is treated. One\noften fancies he understands a subject, but finds that his knowledge\nis unavailable from not being sufficiently in detail.\n\nThe author has a thorough acquaintance with his science, and\nremarkable natural ability as a teacher, developed by long\nexperience. It will be a decided waste of time for any one to\nundertake a similar book till the progress of science renders large\nadditions to this absolutely necessary; and this is brought up to\nthe actual date of publication, containing the latest results of the\nspectroscope, and the most recent determinations of the astronomical\nconstants.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     DIOMEDE. From the _Iliad_ of Homer. By William R. Smith. New York:\n     D. Appleton & Co.\n\nThis version of the Fifth Book of the _Iliad_ is as successful,\nperhaps, as any similar attempt yet made. If not as smooth and\npolished as Pope's, it is at least more accurate. But we venture to\nthink that the author has mistaken the true metre for translating\nHomer. We believe the blank-verse of Tennyson the only one capable\nof rendering it adequately. Much as we appreciate the version before\nus, we have not yet seen any thing to equal Tennyson's \"specimen\ntranslation\" of the celebrated moonlight scene, (_Iliad_, Book viii.)\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     PATTY GRAY'S JOURNEY FROM BOSTON TO BALTIMORE. By Caroline H.\n     Dall. Boston: Lee & Shepard. 1869.\n\nA pleasant and interesting story of Patty's journey to and stay in\nBaltimore. Though Patty was a little girl, she was nevertheless a\ntrue Yankee, and thought \"that people must talk and act as they\ndid in Boston, or they could not possibly talk and act right.\" She\nthought, too, \"she could never love a 'Secesh;'\" still, like a dear\nlittle girl as she was, she soon learned to love her uncle Tom and\nother relatives dearly. If the preface had been left out, the book\nmight be a good one for children; it certainly cannot be good for\nthem to have all the abuses of slavery served up again and again.\nThat evil has been done away with, and, at least as far as the\nchildren are concerned, \"let us have peace.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     ECCLESIASTICAL MAP OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. Arranged by\n     Rev. E. H. Reiter, S.J., of Boston, Mass. For sale by Fr. Pustet,\n     Bookseller and Publisher, 52 Barclay St., New York; 204 Vine St.,\n     Cincinnati, Ohio.\n\nOn this large and excellent map of the United States the seven\nEcclesiastical Provinces into which the country is divided are\ndistinguished by different ground colors, and the boundaries of the\nseveral dioceses in each province and of the vicariates apostolic are\nindicated by red lines. All the episcopal sees are marked by a line,\neither red or blue; while the archiepiscopal sees are shown by a\ncombination of these two colors. We regard this map as a very useful\npublication.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A SHAKER, AND REVELATION OF THE APOCALYPSE. With\n     an Appendix. F. W. Evans, Mount Lebanon, Columbia County, N. Y.\n     June, 1869.\n\nNo man in our day should attempt to solve the religious question\nwithout a competent knowledge of the basis of the claims of the\nCatholic Church to being the church of God and her faith the true\nChristian faith. Her claim is prior to all others as an historical\nfact, and must be fairly set aside before another can be allowed to\ncome into court. The author of the above autobiography is, as is\nusual with the opponents of the Catholic Church, sadly lacking in\nthis knowledge. Among other absurdities, he tells us gravely that\n\"the Roman Catholic Church was founded by Leo the Great\"! Well, after\nall, that is an improvement on Rev. Justin D. Fulton, of Boston, who\naffirms, \"Romanism is the masterpiece of Satan.\"\n\nThe author appears to possess a smattering knowledge of several\nthings, and an exact and thorough knowledge of none. His book is a\njumble of materialism and spiritualism, of infidelity, Protestantism,\nand credulity.\n\nThe language attributed, on page 80, to the late Archbishop Hughes,\nwe venture to say was drawn from the writer's imagination.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     HOSPITAL SKETCHES, AND CAMP AND FIRESIDE STORIES. By Louisa M.\n     Alcott. With illustrations. Boston: Roberts Brothers. 1869. Pp.\n     379.\n\n_Hospital Sketches_ originally appeared in the columns of the Boston\n_Commonwealth_, over the signature of Tribulation Periwinkle, and\nare \"simply a brief record of one person's experience,\" as an army\nhospital nurse. They are written in a pleasant, gossipy, natural\nstyle; the incidents, a judicious admixture of the \"grave and gay,\"\nthe humorous and the pathetic, being alike removed from the extremes\nof levity and gloom.\n\n_Camp and Fireside Stories_, though more pretentious in style and\nelaborate in plot, are not, in our opinion, of equal merit.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     BIBLE HISTORY; containing the most remarkable events of the Old\n     and New Testament. Prepared for the use of Catholic Schools in the\n     United States. By Rev. Richard Gilmour. With the approbation of\n     the Most Reverend J. B. Purcell, D.D., Archbishop of Cincinnati.\n     Cincinnati and New York: Benziger Bros. 1869. Pp. 336.\n\nWe can heartily recommend this as an excellent \"intermediate\"\ntext-book in sacred history. Nor must we omit a special commendation\nof the publishers, who, as far as the paper and typography are\nconcerned, are deserving of all praise. The illustrations are\nnumerous, always pertinent to the text, and, generally speaking,\nsatisfactory. An appendix contains \"Maxims from the Sacred\nScriptures,\" \"The Christian Doctrine as seen in the Narrations of the\nBible,\" and \"A Bird's-Eye View of the Holy Land,\" the key to which\nlast, strange to say, omits the city of Jerusalem.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE LETTERS OF PLACIDUS ON EDUCATION. London: Richardson & Son.\n     For sale by The Catholic Publication Society, New York.\n\nWe commend these _Letters of Placidus_ to the careful consideration\nof educators. They are from the pen of a sound Catholic, an\naccomplished scholar, and one who evidently speaks from a thorough\nexperience. Some, indeed, may think them bold in places; but all\nwill find them to contain suggestions worthy of their deepest\nattention.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE EMERALD. An Illustrated Literary Journal. Vol. III. New York:\n     The Emerald Publishing Company. 1869. Pp. 412.\n\nThis volume, in many respects superior to its predecessors, comprises\nan immense amount of interesting and entertaining reading matter, and\nis profusely illustrated.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE OFFICE OF VESPERS; Containing the Order of the Vesper Service,\n     the Gregorian Psalm Tones harmonized, with the Psalms for all\n     Vespers during the year pointed for chanting. By Rev. Alfred\n     Young. New York: The Catholic Publication House. 1869.\n\nFather Young has given us, we are glad to see, strictly Gregorian\nmelodies, both in the ritual of the vesper service and in the\npsalm tones, such as are to be found in authorized editions of the\n_Antiphonale Romanum_. This is something we commend with all our\nheart. The melodies commonly found in our \"choir books,\" \"vesperals,\"\nand \"services,\" are for the most part so garbled, both in the\ninflections and arrangements, as to leave very little of the original\nGregorian tone standing. The chief merit of the book, however,\nconsists in a new division of the tones, and of the psalms, by which\nbut one pointing of the psalms is needed for chanting any one of the\ntones with their varied concluding cadences. Father Maugin attempted\nsomething of this kind in his _Roman Vesperal_, but succeeded only in\nreducing the different pointings to four. The simplicity of Father\nYoung's arrangement cannot fail to be appreciated by organists as\nwell as by the singers. With his book in our choirs we need not be\ncondemned to hear the tiresome repetition of the same five psalms\nsung to the same five tones on every Sunday and festival in the\nyear. We hope the author will find sufficient success with the\npresent publication to give us, as he proposes, the _Hymnal_ and\n_Antiphonal_. With these we can have our vespers chanted as they\nshould be, in their truly effective style and religious spirit,\nin comparison to which our so-called \"musical vespers\" are tame,\nunmeaning, and, spiritually, unprofitable.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE TWO WOMEN: A Ballad. By Delta. Milwaukee: The Wisconsin News\n     Company. 1868.\n\nThis somewhat curious effusion gave us much pleasure as we read it.\nThe smoothness and grace of the verse, and sometimes the diction,\ntoo, remind us strongly of Tennyson.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE LIFE OF HENRY DORIE, MARTYR. By the Abb\u00e9 Ferdinand Baudry.\n     Translated by Lady Herbert. London: Burns, Oates & Co. For sale by\n     The Catholic Publication Society, New York.\n\nThis neat little book is full of interest, as giving not only an\nadmirable sketch of its noble hero, but also a view of the Corea and\nits inhabitants, for which the reader will be grateful who is eager\nto know more of that strange region, and the wondrous work that is\ndoing there.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTHE CATHOLIC PUBLICATION SOCIETY has just published a new and\ncomplete classified catalogue of all the American and English\nCatholic books now in print. To be had _free_ on application at 126\nNassau Street.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTHE CATHOLIC PUBLICATION SOCIETY has in press and will publish\nin a few weeks: _The Writings of Madame Swetchine_, 1 vol. 12mo,\n$1.50, uniform with _Life of Madame Swetchine_. _Hymns and Songs\nfor Catholic Children_, containing the most popular Catholic hymns\nfor every season of the Christian year, together with May songs,\nChristmas and Easter carols, and for the use of Sunday-schools,\nsodalities, etc.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\nVOL. X., No. 56.--NOVEMBER, 1869.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LIFE OF FATHER FABER.[34]\n\n\nIn the life of Father Faber there was no sudden and violent change\nfrom the excitement of worldly affairs to the quiet of the cloister,\nno striking intervention of divine Providence, such as that which\nin a single day converted Ignatius from a courtier to a saint. He\nsuffered, it is true, from spiritual conflicts and that rupture\nof natural ties which for so many converts to the faith is little\nshort of a species of martyrdom; but the tender piety which beams\nfrom all his maturer devotional works seems to have filled his heart\nfrom boyhood, and his progress from heresy to faith was like the\ngradual development of a seed planted in his breast in early youth.\nYet it is hardly in the Faber family that we should have looked for\na phenomenon like this. They were of Huguenot origin, and proud of\ntheir religious ancestry; and their exiled forefathers, who settled\nin England after the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, we may fairly\npresume were honored in the family as confessors of the faith. The\ngrandfather of the subject of these pages was the Reverend Thomas\nFaber, vicar of Calverley, in Yorkshire. Frederick William was born\nat the vicarage, on the 28th of June, 1814. His father, Mr. Thomas\nHenry Faber, was soon afterward appointed secretary to the Bishop of\nDurham, and removed with his family to the episcopal domain of Bishop\nAuckland. Durham had not yet lost its dignity as a County Palatine,\nand in the glories of the ancient city, where the bishop held his\ncourt with all the pomp and something of the power of royalty, there\nwas much to impress a warm poetical imagination, like that of young\nFaber. The poetical faculty was afterward fostered by the beautiful\nscenery of the Lake country, when he was sent to school at Kirkby\nStephen, in Westmoreland. There it was his chief delight to ramble\nalone among the hills and meres, and fancy the chases filled again\nwith deer, the forests resounding with the hunter's horn, the ruined\nhalls and castles resonant with feast and song, and the deserted\nabbeys vocal with prayer and chant. He shows his familiarity with\nthis region in some of his published verses. Subsequently, he\nstudied at Harrow, under Doctor Longley, afterward Archbishop of\nCanterbury, by whose kindness and influence he was reclaimed at a\ntime when he had adopted infidel views. He gave himself with all\nhis heart to the study of English literature; but the classics got\nrather less attention from him than they deserved, and his career\nat Oxford, where he was matriculated at Baliol College, in 1832,\ncannot be called a brilliant one. He was a man of scholarly tastes\nand of scholarly attainments as well, yet in certain of the highest\nrequirements of the university he seems to have fallen short; for we\nhear of his failing once or twice, not indeed in his examinations,\nbut in competition for a distinguished place. The fact probably was,\nthat he applied himself with undue partiality to favorite studies,\nsuch as poetry and divinity. He was remarkable even at this time\nfor graces of person and manner, fine conversational powers, and\na rare faculty of attracting friends, notwithstanding a certain\ndangerous keenness in his perceptions of the ludicrous, coupled with\ngreat frankness in the expression of his feelings. \"I cannot tell\nwhy it is,\" said one of his schoolmates at Harrow, \"but that Faber\nfascinates every body.\" This remark was repeated to him afterward,\nand filled him with a sense of obligation to use the gift in\npromoting God's glory.\n\nThe temporary eclipse of faith to which we have alluded was of very\nshort duration; and when he came to Oxford, he was keenly alive\nto religious impressions, with a strong Calvinistic tendency. The\ntractarian movement, however, was just beginning, and Faber became\nan enthusiastic admirer--\"an acolyth,\" as he expressed it--of John\nHenry Newman, who was then preaching at St. Mary's, Oxford. He did\nnot make Mr. Newman's acquaintance till several years later; but\nunder his influence he forgot his evangelicalism, and threw himself\neagerly into the great movement for the revival of church principles\nas expounded in the _Tracts for the Times_. \"Transubstantiation has\nbeen bothering me,\" he wrote to a friend; \"not that I lean to it,\n_but I have seen no refutation of it_. How can it be absurd and\ncontradictory to the evidence of our senses, when they cannot by any\nmeans take cognizance of the unknown being, substance, which alone is\nheld up as the subject of this conversion?\"\n\nThis tendency toward Catholic truth was but slight, however, and\nevanescent. There came a reaction in the course of a little while,\nand Mr. Faber wrote to one of his friends:\n\n     \"I have been thinking a great deal on the merits and tendency\n     of Newmanism, and I have become more than ever convinced of its\n     falsehood.... What makes me fear most is, that I have seen Newman\n     himself _growing_ in his opinions; I have seen indistinct visions\n     become distinct embodiments; I have seen the conclusion of one\n     proposition become the premiss of a next, through a long series:\n     all this is still going on--to my eyes more like the blind march\n     of error than the steady uniformity of truth--and I know not when\n     it will stop.\"\n\nHow thoroughly his mind and heart were taken up with religious\nproblems we can see in almost every letter. One of the correspondents\nto whom he seems to have expressed himself with the fullest freedom\nwas Mr. John Brande Morris, and to him he writes, in 1834:\n\n     \"When, after writing to you, and one or two other relations and\n     friends, I turn to pen a letter to my literary intellectual\n     friends, you cannot conceive how weak and uninteresting the topics\n     of discussion become. It is like one of Tom Moore's melodies after\n     an Handelian chorus, at once ludicrous and disgusting from its\n     inferiority.\"\n\nHe read a great deal of religious biography, and when he saw \"the\nmaturity of faith and the religious perfection to which many good\nmen arrive so early,\" he felt disheartened at his own condition. \"It\nis true,\" he said, \"I have often had hours of ecstatic, enthusiastic\ndevotion; but the fever has soon subsided, and my feelings have\nflowed on calmly and soberly in their accustomed channels.\" He looked\nfor the fruits of his faith and found none. Yet in his ignorance\nof what constitutes the true spiritual life, Faber, in his earnest\nsearch after perfection, was doubtless much nearer to God than\nthe evangelical saints whose condition he so envied. He was soon\nsurrounded at Oxford by a little circle of admirers, who made him,\nin some sort, the exemplar and guide of their religious life. He was\nabout twenty or twenty-one years of age when he began a systematic\neffort to improve the opportunities for doing good which he believed\nhad thus been providentially opened to him. \"I proceeded,\" he wrote\nsoon afterward, \"to dictate, to organize, so to speak, a system of\naggressive efforts in favor of religion; and under my guidance a\nnumber of prayer-meetings was speedily established; and by God's\ngrace I was enabled to do it with little noise or ostentation.\" In\nanother letter he describes the perplexity which he suffered during\na vacation visit to one of his disciples, who had \"declined from his\nChristian profession,\" and manifested an unregenerate fondness for\nthe pleasures of life, balls, theatres, etc., which are generally\nso attractive to the young. Mr. Faber had little difficulty in\nreasserting his influence; but his friend's father had \"a violent\nprejudice against what he called 'the humbug of evangelicals,'\" and\nstrongly disapproved of the enthusiastic views of the little Oxford\ncoterie. Mr. Faber could not hold his tongue and let the son alone;\nhe trembled at the thought of breeding domestic dissension; and he\ncould not break off his visit without giving offence. It would be\ninteresting to know how he got out of the difficulty, but he does not\ntell us.\n\nThere soon came a time when he discovered that, however Calvinism\nmight answer for seasons of religious excitement and spiritual\nexaltation, it was not fit for the daily food of the soul. He could\nnot always be at a prayer-meeting or an exhortation. Secular studies\nexacted most of his time, and he felt then that there was nothing\nfor him to lean upon. Another change in his religious views was\nthe inevitable consequence. He had been for some time an admiring\nstudent of the works of George Herbert; Herbert led him on to\nBishop Andrewes; the necessity of sacraments, the prerogatives of\nthe church, the \"penitential system of the primitive church,\" and\n\"the girdle of celibacy and the lamp of watching\" became subjects\nof frequent recurrence in his letters; he confessed that \"the\nevangelical system feeds the heart at the expense of the head,\" and\n\"makes religion a series of frames of feeling;\" and before long we\nfind him quoting with approbation the writings of Dr. Wiseman. He was\nindeed steadily advancing toward the Catholic Church, though he was\nfar enough from suspecting it. In June, 1836, he writes:\n\n     \"Newman is delivering lectures against the Church of Rome. I have\n     just come from a magnificent one on Peter's prerogative. He admits\n     the text in its full literal completeness, and shows that it makes\n     not one iota for the jurisdiction of the Bishop of Rome.\"\n\nIt was well that he was getting even by these slow degrees to a more\ncomfortable faith; for in his university career he was destined to\nsuffer, just at this time, several severe trials. He had carried off,\nin 1836, the prize for a poem on _The Knights of St. John_; but in\nthe examination for his degree he made a comparative failure, his\nname appearing only in the second class, and, as a consequence of\nthis misfortune, he was also defeated in a contest for a fellowship\nin his own college. To divert his mind from this double mortification\nand recruit his exhausted strength, he made a short visit to Germany\nwith his brother, the Reverend Francis A. Faber. Soon after his\nreturn, he secured a fellowship at University College, and also\ncarried off the Johnson divinity scholarship, for which there was\na strong competition. His position being now secure, he began to\nprepare himself zealously for orders. He made the acquaintance of\nDoctor Newman, and joined in his scheme for compiling the _Library\nof the Fathers_, undertaking, as his share of the work, to translate\nthe _Books of St. Optatus against the Donatists_. He obtained a few\npupils, and during the vacation accompanied a small reading party to\nAmbleside, near the head of Windermere. There he was fortunate enough\nto form a friendship with Wordsworth, and used to spend long days\nrambling with the poet over the neighboring mountains--Wordsworth\nmuttering verses in the intervals of conversation. His correspondence\nis full of admiring allusions to Wordsworth's poetry, \"Well or sick,\"\nhe says, \"cheerful or sad, I can almost always get happiness and\nquiet and good resolves out of the old poet--God bless him! One may\nhang on one sonnet of his by the hour, like a bee in a fox-glove, and\nstill get sweetness.\" His opinions of some other famous poets would\nbe declared unquestionably heterodox. He wrote to his brother from\nItaly in 1843:\n\n     \"I spent a _delicious_ evening at Fiesole, yesterday, and not\n     being, as I had feared, tormented by a single thought of the\n     execrable rebel and heretic, Milton, I had nothing to disturb the\n     beautiful tranquillity of the sunset, and the rosy mists of the\n     garden-like Valdarno.... England has no 'need' of Milton: how can\n     a country have need of any thing, policy, courage, talent, or any\n     thing else, which is unblessed of God; and how can any talent in\n     any subject-matter be blessed by the Eternal Father for one who,\n     in prose and verse, denied, ridiculed, blasphemed the Godhead of\n     the Eternal Son? Milton (accursed be his blasphemous memory) spent\n     a great part of his life in writing down my Lord's divinity--my\n     sole trust, my sole love; and that thought poisons _Comus_.\"\n\nFor Byron, \"the beast who thrust Christ into company with Jove and\nMohammed\"--Byron, \"trampling under foot his duties to his country,\nand scorning the natural pieties,\" his antipathy amounted to\nloathing. \"I must say that I cannot comprehend the anomaly which\nstrikes me both in guide-books and conversation of quoting and\npraising men like Milton and Byron, when a man professes to love\nChrist and to put all his hopes of salvation in him.\"\n\nMr. Faber's old master at Harrow, Doctor Longley, now Bishop of\nRipon, ordained him deacon in 1837, and Bishop Bagot promoted him\nto the priesthood at Oxford in 1839. Meanwhile, he had spent the\nlong vacations at Ambleside, assisting there in parochial work, and\npreaching twice a week, and the rest of the year he had passed among\nhis books at Oxford. A devoted Anglican at this time, and full of\nhope that the movement guided by Pusey, Newman, and their associates\nwould revolutionize the whole English establishment, he had gone\nso far toward Catholicism that when, just after his ordination as\npriest, he made a second visit to the continent, he wrote to the Rev.\nJ. B. Morris the following curious letter from Cologne:\n\n     \"I fear you will think me a sad Protestant. I determined, and so\n     did M----, to conform to the Catholic ritual here. We both of\n     us got Mechlin breviaries at Mechlin, and go to church pretty\n     regularly every day to say the hours, and we say the rest of the\n     hours as the priests do, in carriages, or inns, or anywhere. Also,\n     I have been tutorized in the breviary by a very _nice_ priest, a\n     simple-hearted, pious fellow with little knowledge of theology.\n     But it all will not do. The careless irreverence, the noise, the\n     going in and out, the spitting of the priests on the altar-steps,\n     the distressing representations of our Blessed Lord--I cannot\n     get over them. The censing of the priests, the ringing of bells,\n     the constant carrying of the blessed sacrament from one altar to\n     another--this I can manage; because I can say psalms meanwhile.\n     But at best, when I can get away into a side chapel with no wax\n     virgins in it, and no hideous pictures of the FATHER, I cannot\n     manage well.\"\n\nThe idea that Anglicans were excommunicate from Western Christendom\nwas a terrible distress to him. \"Would you not like,\" he writes to\nthe same friend, \"to spend six months among the Munich disciples of\nM\u00f6hler, D\u00f6llinger, etc., etc.? Of course I shall know more of all\nthis when I have travelled. I shall strive to realize all such little\nways of impeded communion as are unstopped. It will surely do _me_\ngood, if no one else.\"\n\nHe soon had the coveted opportunity for more extended travel;\nfor in 1841, he went abroad as tutor to a young gentleman from\nAmbleside, and spent six months journeying through the countries\nbordering on the Mediterranean and the Danube, Styria, the Tyrol,\nand Northern Germany. Memorials of this interesting tour are found\nin some of his published poems and in a volume called _Sights and\nThoughts in Foreign Churches and among Foreign Peoples_, which\nappeared in 1842, dedicated to Wordsworth. Into this book the author\nintroduced many reflections upon religious matters, chiefly in the\nform of conversations with an imaginary representative of medi\u00e6val\nChristianity, as well as of Mr. Faber's own Catholic feelings, whom\nhe calls \"the Stranger.\" The volume closes with a dream, in which\nthe author conducts the stranger through English cathedrals, with\ntheir bare altars and empty niches. \"The stranger regarded them with\nindignation, but did not speak. When we came out of the church, he\nturned to me, and said in a solemn voice, somewhat tremulous from\ndeep emotion, 'You have led me through a land of closed churches and\nhushed bells, of unlighted altars and unstoled priests. Is England\nbeneath an interdict?'\"\n\nThe private journal of Mr. Faber's journey abounds with evidences of\nthe deep impressions which Catholic customs made upon him, and his\nsecret dissatisfaction with his own cold church--a dissatisfaction\nof which probably he was still himself unconscious. He is at Genoa\non the Feast of the Annunciation, \"and not to be utterly without\nsympathy with the Genoese around us, we decorated our room with a\nbunch of crimson tulips, apparently the favorite flower, that we\nmight not be without somewhat to remind us of her\n\n    'Who so above\n    All mothers shone;\n    The Mother of\n    The Blessed One.'\"\n\nIn Constantinople he is impressed with the folly of patching up the\nAnglican succession by an alliance with the Greek Church. \"Depend\nupon it,\" he writes, \"cast about as we will, if we want foreign\nCatholic sympathies, we must find them as they will let us in our\nLatin mother.\" He witnesses a procession of pilgrims from Vienna to\nthe shrine of the Blessed Virgin at Mariazell. \"It was a bewildering\nsight. I thought how faith ran in my own country in thin and\nscattered rivulets, and I looked with envious surprise at this huge\nwave which the Austrian capital had flung upon this green platform\nof Styrian highland--a wave of pure, hearty, earnest faith.\" He is\nindignant at the desecration of Sunday by the Lutheran population\nof Dresden, and exclaims, \"Yet year after year are we assured in\nEngland of the connection between popery and whatever is disagreeable\nin the foreign way of keeping Sunday. No person who has not been\nabroad, and heard and seen and investigated for himself, would credit\nthe extensive system of lying pursued by English travel-writers,\nreligious-tract compilers, and Exeter Hall speech-makers, respecting\nthe Roman Church abroad; and whether the lies be those of wilfulness\nor of prejudice, ignorance, and indolence, I do not see much to\ndistinguish in the guilt. These dirt-seekers scrape the sewers\nof Europe to rough-cast the Church of Rome with the plentiful\ndefilements.\"\n\nSoon after his return home, he was offered the college living of\nElton, in Huntingdonshire, and at first declined it, but afterward,\nfor a reason which curiously illustrates his conscientiousness, he\ndetermined to accept. \"My chief rock of offence,\" said he, \"is the\nsubduing the poet to the priest.\" He would have given up poetry\naltogether, but Keble convinced him that he had no right to bury\nhis chief talent in a napkin. To cultivate it in moderation was\nmore difficult, and here he thought the uncongenial duties of the\npastoral office would be a great help in correcting his inordinate\nlove of literature, and keeping him within the bounds of usefulness.\n\"I do not say you are wrong,\" was Wordsworth's remark on hearing his\ndetermination; \"but England loses a poet.\"\n\nIf his reason for accepting the rectory was a strange one, his first\nstep on taking possession was still stranger and still wiser. He\ndetermined to visit Rome and study the method pursued by the church\nin dealing with the souls committed to her care. \"I want to go to\nItaly,\" said he, \"not as a poet, or a tourist, or a pleased dreamer,\nbut as a pilgrim who regards it as a second Palestine, the Holy Land\nof the West.\" Dr. Wiseman, then coadjutor bishop of the central\ndistrict of England, gave him letters of introduction to Cardinal\nActon and Dr. Grant at Rome, so that he was enabled to see much more\nof the charitable and religious institutions of the Christian capital\nthan falls to the lot of the ordinary visitor. He studied Italian,\nin order that he might understand the numerous lives of saints in\nthat language, and singularly enough, or providentially we should\nrather say, he conceived a particular devotion to St. Philip Neri,\nhis future father. Of his visit to the room in which the saint used\nto say Mass he writes, \"How little did I, a Protestant stranger in\nthat room years ago, dream that I should ever be of the saint's\nfamily, or that the Oratorian father who showed it me should in a\nfew years be appointed by the pope the novice-master of the English\nOratorians. I remember how, when he kissed the glass of the case in\nwhich St. Philip's little bed is kept as a relic, he apologized to\nme as a Protestant, lest I should be scandalized, and told me with a\nsmile how tenderly St. Philip's children loved their father. I was\nnot scandalized with their relic-worship then, but I can understand\nbetter now what he said about the love, the child-like love,\nwherewith St. Philip inspired his sons. If any one had told me that\nin seven short years I should wear the same habit, and the same white\ncollar in the streets of London, and be preaching a triduo in honor\nof Rome's apostle, I should have wondered how any one could dream so\nwild a dream.\"\n\nSensibly as he was affected by the pious practices and associations\nof Rome, his attachment to the Church of England was as yet unshaken.\nHe still cherished the delusion that some way could be found of\nconnecting the Anglican establishment with this venerable apostolic\nchurch. Controversy on such points of doctrine as indulgences,\netc., he put aside. \"The one thing necessary to prove,\" said he,\n\"is that adherence to the holy see is essential to the _being_ of a\nchurch: _to the_ well-_being of all churches I admit it essential_.\"\nHe visited the church of the Lateran on St. John's day, and knelt\nbare-headed in the piazza to receive the holy father's blessing.\n\"I do not think,\" he writes, \"I ever returned from any service so\nthoroughly christianized in every joint and limb, or so right of\nheart, as I did from the Lateran on Thursday.\" Afterward Cardinal\nActon obtained for him the favor of a private audience with Pope\nGregory XVI., the story of which he tells in the following words:\n\n     \"The Rector of the English College accompanied me, and told me\n     that, as Protestants did not like kissing the pope's foot, I\n     should not be required to do it. We waited in the lobby of the\n     Vatican library for half an hour, when the pope arrived, and a\n     prelate opened the door, remaining outside. The pope was perfectly\n     alone, without a courtier or prelate, standing in the middle of\n     the library, in a plain white cassock, and a white silk skull-cap,\n     (white is the papal color.) On entering, I knelt down, and again\n     when a few yards from him, and lastly before him; he held out his\n     hand, but I kissed his foot; there seemed to be a mean puerility\n     in refusing the customary homage. With Dr. Baggs for interpreter,\n     we had a long conversation; he spoke of Dr. Pusey's suspension for\n     defending the Catholic doctrine of the Eucharist with amazement\n     and disgust; he said to me, 'You must not mislead yourself in\n     wishing for unity, yet waiting for your _church_ to move. Think\n     of the salvation of your own soul.' I said I feared self-will\n     and _individual_ judging. He said, 'You are all individuals in\n     the English church; you have only external communion and the\n     accident of being all under the queen. You know this; you know all\n     doctrines are taught amongst you, any how. You have good wishes;\n     may God strengthen them! You must think for yourself and for your\n     soul.' He then laid his hands on my shoulders, and I immediately\n     knelt down; upon which he laid them on my head, and said, 'May the\n     grace of God correspond to your good wishes and deliver you from\n     the nets (_insidie_) of Anglicanism, and bring you to the true\n     holy church!' I left him almost in tears, affected as much by the\n     earnest, affectionate demeanor of the old man as by his blessing\n     and his prayer. I shall remember St. Alban's day in 1843 to my\n     life's end.\"\n\nThat he did not immediately embrace the truth seems to have been\nnot the effect of cowardice, but of a genuine scruple such as he\nexpressed to Pope Gregory. The Anglican party at this time were\nsanguine of their ability to bring their members, as a body,\ninto communion with the Roman see, and Mr. Faber was doubtless\nconscientious in his delay, though he suffered terribly from distress\nof mind. \"I grow more Roman every day,\" he writes. \"I hardly dare\nread the Articles; their weight grows heavier on me daily. _I hope\nour Blessed Lady's intercession may not cease for any of us_ because\nwe do not seek it, since we desist for obedience' sake.\" He prayed\nat the shrine of St. Aloysius on the feast of that saint, and left\nthe church as if speechless and not knowing where he was going. After\nhe became a Catholic, he told Dr. Grant that on the 21st of June St.\nAloysius \"had always knocked very hard at his heart.\" Twice he took\nhis hat to go to the English College and make his abjuration, but on\neach occasion some trifling circumstance interfered to prevent the\nexecution of his purpose. He wore a miraculous medal, and he obtained\nsome rosaries blessed by the pope. At last he went home to Elton,\nhaving suffered during his visit a degree of mental anguish which\nactually resulted in physical injuries that affected him all the rest\nof his life.\n\nDr. Newman's state of mind was very much like Mr. Faber's at this\ntime. The two friends wrote to each other, and agreed to delay\ntheir final decision for a little while longer; and in the mean\ntime Mr. Faber threw all his energy into his parochial duties,\nendeavoring to copy the methods of pastoral labor which he had gone\nto Rome to study. His parish was disorderly in consequence of long\nneglect, and what religious vitality there was in the place was\nfound principally at the dissenting chapel. Mr. Faber relied for\nreformation upon preaching, and what he considered the sacraments. He\ncared very little for ceremonies and vestments, and compared those\nwho would now be called ritualists to \"grown-up children playing at\nmass, putting ornament before truth, suffocating the inward by the\noutward.\" \"This is not the way to become Catholic again; it is only\na profaner kind of Protestantism than any we have seen hitherto.\"\nWhen the surplice controversy was agitating the Established Church,\nhe told his congregation that he usually preached in a surplice\nbecause he preferred it, but he \"would preach _in his shirt-sleeves_\nif it would be any satisfaction to them.\" He tried to establish the\ndevotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus; he published three tracts on\nexamination of conscience; he introduced confessions, and out of the\nmost promising of his young male penitents he formed a confraternity\nwhich used to meet at the rectory every night about twelve o'clock\nand spend an hour in prayer. On the vigils of great festivals, their\ndevotions lasted two or three hours. On these nights, and also on\nFridays and every night in Lent, the whole party used the discipline,\neach in turn receiving it from the others.\n\nThese devotional practices seem to have excited the powers of\ndarkness; for it is related that many times while the brotherhood\nwere assembled, mysterious disturbances were heard, often apparently\njust outside the door of the oratory. The house was searched with\nlights, but nothing was ever discovered which could account for the\nnoises.\n\nOn Sunday afternoons, the rectory grounds were thrown open to the\nparish, and the clergyman mingled freely with his flock, while games\nof foot-ball and cricket were introduced to make the gatherings more\nattractive. Of course the Sabbatarians were frightfully scandalized\nat such proceedings; but no one could deny that a great moral\nimprovement was soon perceptible in the parish, and the dissenters\nbegan to forsake their chapel to crowd around Mr. Faber's pulpit. His\nown austerities were fearful. He fasted rigorously, often eating for\nhis dinner nothing more than a few potatoes and a herring, and in\nfact never taking a genuine meal except on Sunday. He wore a thick\nhorsehair cord tied in knots about his waist. Want of food often\nbrought upon him severe attacks of sickness, and sometimes he fainted\nin the church while reading prayers. In such matters as these he\nseems to have been his own director; but in other religious practices\nhe governed himself a great deal by the advice of Dr. Newman. \"I have\na request to make,\" he writes to Newman in November, 1844, \"which I\ncannot any longer refrain from making; but I shall submit at once to\na _No_, if you will say it. I want you to revoke your prohibition,\nlaid on me last October year, of invoking our Blessed Lady, the\nsaints and angels. I do feel somehow weakened for the want of it, and\n_fancy_ I should get strength if I did it.\"\n\nIt was some relief, perhaps, in this suffering of mind to give\nutterance to his Catholic yearnings with his pen, since he durst not\npour out his whole soul in prayer. He had entered into a scheme for\npublishing a series of lives of the English saints, and written for\nit a _Life of St. Wilfrid_. All the volumes had caused more or less\nirritation; but in the _Life of St. Wilfrid_ the Catholic tendencies\nof the tractarian school were developed with the utmost freedom--with\nso much freedom that we can hardly understand how they could have\ncome from the pen of any man who was even nominally an Anglican. His\ndifficulties, however, were now almost over. In the autumn of 1845,\nmany of his friends were received into the church. Among them was\nDr. Newman; and then Mr. Faber hesitated no longer. He put himself\nat once into communication with Dr. Wareing, the vicar apostolic of\nthe eastern district, not to be instructed in Catholic doctrine, for\nthat he knew and believed already; but to inquire about various minor\npoints connected with a formal reception into the church. To abandon\nhis work at Elton he knew would involve spiritual injury to many;\nand about that he felt at first some scruples. He asked advice of\none whose counsel he had always followed in times of perplexity--we\npresume Dr. Newman. \"Your own soul,\" he was told, \"is the only\nconsideration, and you must save that, because--\"\n\n\"No,\" interrupted he, \"I have obeyed you as a Protestant and without\nthe 'because,' and I don't want to hear it now.\"\n\nAnother obstacle in his way was the state of his pecuniary affairs.\nHe had borrowed a large sum of money for charitable and other works\nin his parish; and if he gave up his living, he could pay neither\nprincipal nor interest. Was it not his duty to remain rector of Elton\nuntil the debt was paid? He consulted an Anglican dignitary of his\nown party. \"Depend upon it,\" was the answer, \"if God means you to\nbe a Catholic, he will not let that stand in the way.\" Confident,\ntherefore, that God would provide, he wrote to acquaint his friends\nof his purpose, and had no sooner dispatched the letters than he\nreceived from a generous anti-Catholic gentleman, who had heard of\nhis perplexity, a check for the full amount of the debt.\n\nHe officiated at Elton for the last time on the 16th of November.\nAt the evening service he told his people that the doctrines he\nhad preached to them, though true, were not those of the Church of\nEngland; he could not, therefore, remain in her communion, but must\ngo where truth was to be found. Then he hastily descended the pulpit\nstairs, threw off his surplice, which he left upon the ground, and\nmade his way as quickly as possible through the vestry to the house.\nFor a few minutes the congregation remained in blank astonishment.\nThe church-wardens and some others followed him to the rectory, and\nbegged him to remain; he might preach what he pleased, and they\nwould never question it. It was a sorrowful interview, for he loved\nhis flock with all his heart; but he was firm in his resolve. The\nnext morning he started early for Northampton, hoping to escape\nobservation; but the people were on the watch at their windows; and\nas he passed through, they waved their handkerchiefs and cried, \"God\nbless you, wherever you go.\" Mr. Faber was accompanied by Mr. T.\nF. Knox, a scholar of Trinity College, Cambridge, and seven of his\nparishioners. They were all admitted into the church the same evening\nby Bishop Wareing, and the next day received their first communion\nand the sacrament of confirmation. \"A new light,\" wrote Mr. Faber\nnext day, \"seems to be shed on every thing, and more especially on\nmy past position--a light so clear as to surprise me; and though I\nam homeless and unsettled, and as to worldly prospects considerably\nbewildered, yet there is such a repose of conscience as more than\ncompensates for the intense and fiery struggle which began on the\nTuesday and only ended on the Monday morning following.\"\n\nOwing to various circumstances, a good many recent converts had\nsettled at Birmingham, where the church of St. Chad, under the\ncharge of the Rev. Mr. Moore, had become a great centre of Catholic\nlife. Mr. Faber and his companions went there, Faber accepting the\nhospitality of Mr. Moore, and the others disposing of themselves in\nvarious ways. They continued, however, to look up to their former\npastor for direction, and he soon conceived the idea of forming them\ninto a sort of community. With the approval of Mr. Moore and Dr.\nWiseman, they took possession of a small house in Caroline street,\nMr. Faber of course joining them. No definite rule was drawn up at\nfirst, but their general purpose was to assist the parochial clergy\nin visiting the sick, giving instruction, and similar duties. Mr.\nHutchinson, who afterward became a member of the little band, has\ngiven an amusing account of a visit he paid them a few days after\ntheir establishment. Mr. Faber, terribly scorched, was standing\nover the fire stirring a kettle of pea-soup. There was hardly any\nfurniture except a long deal table, a chair, knife, fork, and mug for\neach man, some pewter spoons with the temperance pledge stamped on\nthem, and a three-legged table, split across the middle, at which,\nwhen he could be spared from the pea-soup, Mr. Faber was engaged\nwriting a pamphlet on the reasons for his conversion. Up-stairs\nthere were four small rooms, one used as a chapel, the others as\ndormitories. There were no bed-steads; they all slept on the floor.\nSuch was the beginning of the Wilfridian Community, or Brothers of\nthe Will of God, though they took no distinguishing name until some\ntime later. At the commencement of the new year, the generosity of\na friend enabled Mr. Faber to visit Italy, where he had reason to\nthink he could obtain money for the support of the new community.\nDuring his absence, the brethren found employment with some of the\nCatholic tradesmen in the town, returning to Caroline street every\nnight. The distinguished convert was of course received in Rome with\ngreat affection, especially by the ecclesiastics who had known him on\nhis former visit. Cardinal Acton fell upon his neck and kissed him.\nThe pope gave him a gracious interview. The English College offered\nhim a home. The superior of the Camaldolese at Florence expressed a\ngreat desire to see him. \"He was ill in bed,\" says Mr. Faber, \"and\nhis bed full of snuff; he seized my head, buried it in the snuffy\nclothes, and kissed me most unmercifully.\" There is, in fact, a\ngood deal of fun now and then in Mr. Faber's letters. He tells,\nfor instance, how \"the dear old pope\" refused to be angry with the\nAnglican Bishop of Gibraltar, who came to Rome to give confirmation,\nhis holiness saying with a chuckle that \"he really had not been aware\nhitherto that Rome was in the diocese of Gibraltar;\" and how, in \"a\nfit of unholy mirth,\" the holy father mimicked the way the English\nProtestants did homage, \"a familiar nod with their chin, as if they\nhad swallowed pokers.\" He was disappointed in the pecuniary aid which\nhe had come abroad to seek, but the journey was productive of much\nspiritual comfort and improvement; and as money was soon forthcoming\nfrom another quarter, he was enabled to go back to Birmingham with\na light heart, and to set about the more complete organization of\nthe community according to a rule which he had devised during his\nabsence. Meanwhile, arrangements had been completed for removal\nto more commodious quarters in Birmingham; and in the course of\nthe year 1846 the brethren moved a second time to a fine estate\nat Cheadle, generously given them by Lord Shrewsbury. They named\nit St. Wilfrid's. Their first work here was to open a school for\nboys. Pupils came in rapidly; but the bigotry of the neighborhood\nwas aroused, and the most amazing reports were circulated about the\nnew institution. A relative of Mr. Hutchinson (who had joined the\ncommunity under the name of Brother Anthony, Mr. Faber being styled\nBrother Wilfrid of the Humanity of Jesus) sent a Scotch physician\nto examine the establishment, and we suppose to report upon the\nsanity of the inmates. The same relative described Mr. Faber as \"an\nambitious villain and a hellish ruler,\" and declared that wherever he\nwent in London \"the finger of scorn was pointed at him.\" \"I am said\nto have _strangled_ one of my monks,\" wrote the \"hellish ruler;\" \"the\nstory is all over the land, and is believed. Mrs. R---- came to see\nme at St. Wilfrid's, 'to see the man;' and glaring at me in silence\nlike a tigress, she told Lady Shrewsbury and Lady Arundel that I\nwas quite capable of all she heard, and that her faith in it was\nestablished.\"\n\nHumility had led Mr. Faber to defer ordination to the priesthood, and\nup to this time he had received only minor orders; but in the Advent\nseason of 1846 he was raised to the subdeaconship, and at the end of\nthe following Lent he was ordained deacon and priest by Dr. Wiseman\nat Oscott. The brothers could now engage much more effectively in\nmissionary work; and as, besides having a priest among them, they\nreceived several valuable converts from time to time, they were\nenabled to map out a wide extent of neglected country into districts,\nand devote their days to a systematic visitation of every house\nwithin their limits. The crowds who came on Sundays to St. Wilfrid's\nsoon overflowed the little chapel, and Father Faber used to preach\nto them in a yard near the house, or under the beech-trees in the\ngarden. It was not unusual for him also to preach in the streets,\nwearing his habit or cassock and holding a crucifix in his hand.\n\nIn a few months there remained but one Protestant family in the\nparish, and the Protestant church was almost entirely abandoned!\nBrother Anthony Hutchinson wrote, \"We have converted the pew-opener,\nleaving the parson only his clerk and two drunken men.\" The poor\npeople became extravagantly fond of \"Father Fable,\" as they used\nto call him; but he was not held in particular affection by the\nProtestant clergy, and sometimes was unwillingly involved in what he\nused to call \"fighting and squabbling with parsons.\" On one occasion\nhe was followed into the room of a sick man by a minister of the\nPrimitive Methodists, who insisted on remaining there to hear what\nwas said in confession, and was with great difficulty persuaded by\nthe invalid to leave the house.\n\nIt was not only from Protestants, however, that Father Faber had\nto suffer annoyance; his worst troubles came from those of his own\nfaith. About the time of his ordination he had made arrangements for\nthe publication of a series of lives of the saints, translated from\nthe Italian and other foreign languages, and afterward so widely\nknown as the Oratorian Lives. A part of the literary work he did\nhimself, but the most of it he committed to other hands, having at\none time between sixty and seventy translators at work under his\ndirection. The series began with a _Life of St. Philip Neri_. It\nreached a large sale; but so little familiar were English readers\nwith the supernatural manifestations which abound in biographies of\nthe chosen servants of God that exception was taken to the work in\nvarious quarters, and when the _Life of St. Rose of Lima_ appeared,\nthe opposition became extremely violent. It was objected that the\nlives of foreign saints, however edifying in their respective\ncountries, were unsuited to England and unfit for Protestant eyes.\nUnder the advice of Dr. Newman, who nevertheless approved of the work\nvery cordially, the series was finally suspended. But then a reaction\nset in; it was discovered how much practical good the publications\nhad done; some of those who had criticised them most severely\nretracted and apologized; and the translations were resumed under the\nauspices of the Oratorians, with whom Father Faber's community had\nmeanwhile been consolidated.\n\nMr. Faber and Mr. Hutchinson, the only priests in the community at\nSt. Wilfrid's, were on the eve of taking their vows when news arrived\nthat Dr. Newman was coming over from Rome to establish in England\nthe Oratory of St. Philip Neri. Father Faber was at prayer when he\nfelt suddenly an interior call to join the new congregation. His\nfinal decision was reached only after a long interior struggle and\na free conference with Bishop Wiseman. Humanly speaking, it was a\ngreat sacrifice--perhaps the greatest Father Faber ever made. Besides\ngiving up the infant community to which he had devoted so much care,\nand descending at one step from the position of superior to that\nof novice, he had to tear himself away from a congregation which\nwas quite as warmly attached to him as his old flock had been at\nElton, to give up St. Wilfrid's, and to face the vehement opposition\nof his brethren in the community and the generous friends to whom\nhe had been indebted for his foundation at Cheadle. \"Giving St.\nWilfrid's up,\" he wrote, \"seems to unroot one altogether from the\nearth, and the future is such a complete blank that one feels as if\none was going to die.\" \"It is Elton over again,\" only, \"in my first\nspoliation I kept my books and my Elton children; now I lose these\ntwo.\" To his surprise, however, when once his mind had been made up,\nthe opposition of the community of St. Wilfrid's suddenly ceased.\nThey all professed their willingness to follow him; and the result\nwas, that the Oratorians took possession of the whole establishment.\nDr. Newman came to St. Wilfrid's in February, 1848, and admitted\nthe entire community to his congregation. \"Father Superior has now\nleft us,\" wrote Faber, \"all in our Philippine habits with turndown\ncollars, like so many good boys brought in after dinner. Since my\nadmission I seem to have lost all attachment to every thing but\nobedience; I could dance and sing all day because I am so joyous; I\nhardly know what to do with myself for very happiness.\"\n\nIt was not thought necessary to exact from him the full period of\nthree years' noviceship, so at the end of six months he was dispensed\nfrom the remainder and appointed master of novices. In October of\nthe same year, the whole congregation removed from Birmingham to St.\nWilfrid's; but Father Faber was not allowed to remain long in this\nfavorite home; for in the spring he was sent with five other fathers,\nnamely Dalgairns, Stanton, Hutchinson, Knox, and Wells, and two\nnovices, Messrs. Gordon and Bowden, to found a new house in London.\nAt the head of this he remained until his death, and he never saw St.\nWilfrid's again but once.\n\nThe introduction of a new order or a new congregation is so common\nan event now that we can hardly understand how bitter was the\nill-feeling aroused by the opening of the London Oratory in a hired\nhouse in King William street in May, 1849. It was the first public\nchurch which had been served by a religious community in that diocese\nsince the old faith was put under the feet of the English schism.\nBishop Wiseman was a warm supporter of the Oratorians, but many of\nthe secular clergy looked upon them with suspicion, doubted the\ndiscretion of a community composed entirely of converts, disapproved\nof the public wearing of their habit, and complained that their\npeculiar services, with new prayers, hymns in the vernacular,\nand a new style of preaching, were Methodistical, and ought to\nbe suppressed. Experience, however, in time showed the doubters\ntheir mistake, and the diocesan clergy became not only friends\nbut imitators of the Oratorians. A great deal of popular animosity\ncontinued to be manifested, especially during the excitement which\nfollowed the re\u00ebstablishment of the English hierarchy. The walls\nof London were placarded, \"Down with the Oratorians,\" \"Don't go to\nthe Oratory,\" \"Banishment to the Oratorians,\" etc.; the fathers\nwere cursed in the streets, and even _gentlemen_ used to shout at\nthem from their carriage-windows. The government finally issued a\nproclamation reviving an old statute which forbade Roman Catholic\necclesiastics to wear the habit of their order, and thenceforth the\nOratorians always appeared in the streets in secular garb.\n\nFather Faber was doing an immense amount of labor at this time,\npreaching, visiting the sick, giving retreats and missions, and\nconducting special devotions, besides employing some time in literary\noccupations; yet he was almost constantly a sufferer from disease,\nand was often obliged to cease for a while from all work whatsoever.\nHe had long been subject to very severe and prostrating headaches,\nconnected with which is the following remarkable incident which we\nshall give in his own words, written to the Countess of Arundel and\nSurrey on the 2d of December, 1850:\n\n     \"And now I have so many things to tell you that I hardly know\n     where to begin. Some time ago, a lady at prayer in our church\n     thought it was revealed to her that St. Mary Magdalene of Pazzi\n     wished to confer some _grazia_ on me in connection with my\n     headache. Her director gave her permission to act upon this;\n     whereupon she wrote to me, begging me when my headache came on to\n     apply a relic of the saint to my forehead. Some days elapsed; I\n     asked Father Francis, my director, for his leave to do this; as\n     it was a merely temporal thing, he took some time to consider.\n     I became ill, and had a night of great pain. I thought he had\n     forgotten all about it, and that it would be a blameworthy\n     imperfection in me to remind him of it. The morning after, he came\n     to confession, and found me ill in bed; he was going away, but I\n     knew he was going to say Mass, and so I made him kneel down by my\n     bedside, while I put on my stole, and with considerable pain heard\n     his confession; when he rose, I gave him the stole, and asked him\n     to hear my confession, which he did. Afterward he said, 'Well,\n     now, I think it would be well to try this relic.' I answered,\n     'Just as you please.' I was in great suffering, and very sick\n     besides. He gave it me, and walked away to the door to say Mass.\n     I applied the relic, a piece of her linen, to my forehead; a sort\n     of fire went into my head, through every limb down to my feet,\n     causing me to tremble; before Father Francis could even reach\n     the door, I sprang up, crying, 'I am cured, I am quite well!' He\n     said I looked as white as a sheet; I was filled with a kind of\n     sacred fear, and an intense desire to consecrate myself utterly\n     to God. I got up and dressed, without any difficulty, or pain, or\n     sickness. This was on the Wednesday. On the Saturday I had another\n     headache, but I had not asked Father Francis's leave about the\n     relic, and felt I ought to take no steps to get rid of my cross.\n     In the afternoon he told me I might apply it. Fathers Philip and\n     Edward were in the room. I was on my bed; I took the relic and\n     applied it; there was the same fire in a less degree, but no cure.\n     I then said to the saint, 'I only ask it to go to the novena and\n     benediction.' The cure was instantaneous; while Father Philip had\n     such an impression that the saint was in the room, that he was\n     irresistibly drawn to bow to her. Well, I said my office; then in\n     an hour or so came the novena and benediction; and as soon as I\n     returned to my room, I was taken so ill again I was obliged to go\n     to bed. Meanwhile I had totally forgotten what the others reminded\n     me of afterward, that two years ago Michael Watts Russell wrote\n     to me from Florence, and said, 'The children send their love, and\n     desire me to say they have just come from the tomb of St. Mary\n     Magdalene of Pazzi, whom they have been asking to cure Father\n     Wilfrid's headache.'\n\n     \"After all this, I am sure I shall lose my soul if I do not serve\n     God less lukewarmly; so please pray for me.\"\n\nGod had not given him, however, the favor of a permanent restoration\nto health. He was never well in London. \"I have two vocations,\"\nhe wrote to Father Bowden, \"one for my body and one for my soul;\nand they happen to be incompatible, so the body must do the best it\ncan, and the soul must rough-ride it for another sixty years, which\nis supposed to be the term of incessant headache still left me.\nWhen you and I sit toothless together, shaking our palsied heads at\nrecreation, we shall look down upon the junior fathers who have been\nonly thirty or forty years in the congregation with an ineffable\ncontempt; and when my dotage comes on, I shall fancy myself still\nnovice-master and you a refractory novice, and I shall trip you up\non your crutches for mortification.\" For the sake of his health he\nwas persuaded to start on a journey to Palestine; but he fell very\nsick on the way, and went no further than Italy. He reached Naples\non the feast of the Immaculate Conception, (1851,) and entered the\nOratorian church just as benediction was about to be given, \"which,\"\nhe says, \"was jolly.\" In the same letter (to Father Hutchinson) he\nwrites, \"If I can get one, I will bring one of _the rum things_ they\nput on the altar in Advent and Lent, when flowers are forbidden;\nthey take my fancy hugely.\" He came home far from well enough to\nresume his work; but there was a great deal to be done, and he\nnever had any mercy on himself. There was a country house for the\ncongregation to be built at Sydenham Hill, and the fine new Oratory\nat Brompton to be erected in place of the little establishment in\nKing William street, which the community had long ago outgrown. They\ntook possession of the Brompton house in March, 1854. The vast cost\nof this great institution had been defrayed principally from the\nprivate means of the individual members, but there had been several\ndonations--\u00a310,000 toward the purchase of the site from a lady who\nwished her gift to be anonymous; \u00a34000 from the Earl of Arundel and\nSurrey; and \u00a3700 collected by a committee for the erection of the\nchurch. The current expenses of the house were also defrayed from the\npockets of the fathers, it being a rule of the congregation that the\nreceipts from their churches should not contribute in any way to the\nsupport of the house, and indeed at Brompton the income of the church\ndid not equal its expenditure.\n\nIt was while the Brompton building was under way that Father Faber\nbegan with his _All for Jesus, or the Easy Ways of Divine Love_,\nthat remarkable series of spiritual works which made his name so\nwidely known and loved throughout Europe and America. _All for Jesus_\nappeared in 1853; _Bethlehem_, the eighth and last of the series, was\npublished in 1860. In the mean time, he had collected a volume of\nhis earlier and later poems; completed his poem of _Prince Amadis_;\npublished a collection of his hymns, many of which have become\nexceedingly popular, and finished a great deal of minor literary\nwork. He made preparations for other books, on _Calvary_, _The Holy\nGhost_, _The Fear of God_, and _The Immaculate Heart of Mary_,\nfragments of which appeared after his death under the title, _Notes\non Doctrinal and Spiritual Subjects_. These various writings are too\nwell known and too fondly esteemed, especially in the United States,\nfor any criticism to be called for here, and we can do nothing better\nthan copy the just eulogy which Father Bowden cites from _The Dublin\nReview_:\n\n     \"We know of no one man who has done more to make the men of his\n     day love God and aspire to a higher path of the interior life;\n     and we know no man who so nearly represents to us the mind and\n     the preaching of St. Bernard and St. Bernardine of Siena in the\n     tenderness and beauty with which he has surrounded the names of\n     Jesus and Mary.\"\n\nAll these exquisite works were written in the midst of the most awful\nphysical suffering. \"It is plain,\" he writes in 1858, \"that life\ncan't be lived at this rate. But my mind is now like a locomotive\nthat has started with neither driver nor stoker. I can think of\nnothing but being seized, put on board one of her majesty's ships\nof war as compulsory chaplain, and carried round the world for two\nyears. If I was on land, I should jib and come home.\" Bright's\ndisease of the kidneys, gout, neuralgia--a complication, in fact,\nof numerous disorders, left him hardly an hour of ease, hardly a\nnight of rest. Soon after Easter, in the year 1863, the hope of\nchecking his disease or even notably relieving his sufferings was\nfinally given up. He seems to have been conscious of his condition\neven before the physicians had pronounced their opinion. During\nthe month of April he made one or two short journeys, but without\nexperiencing any relief. By the middle of June he was so much\nworse that the last sacraments were administered. On the 28th--his\nforty-ninth birthday--he saw all the members of the community, one\nby one, recommending himself to their prayers, and leaving with each\nsome parting gift. He rallied a little after this, and was even\nwell enough to take one or two short drives, and to enjoy farewell\nvisits from Cardinal Wiseman, and Dr. Newman, and many of his other\nfriends. His mind continued perfectly clear and calm until some time\nin September, when attacks of delirium became frequent, and the\nsedatives which had been used to produce sleep lost their soothing\neffect. He received holy communion daily up to and including the 24th\nof that month. The next day his attendants were able to put him into\nbed, which had not been done since June; he had passed day and night\nin his chair, propped up with pillows. He now lay quite still, gazing\nat a large crucifix, and moving his eyes from one to another of the\nfive wounds. When told that his death was near, he only repeated his\nfavorite exclamation, \"God be praised!\" On the morning of the 26th,\nFather Rowe told him that he was going to say Mass for him. He showed\nby his face that he understood what was said; and just as the Mass\nmust have ended, he turned his head a little and opened his eyes with\na touching expression, half of sweetness and half of surprise. So his\nspirit passed away, as if in the act of realizing the picture which\nhe had drawn in _All for Jesus_: \"Only serve Jesus out of love, and\nwhile your eyes are yet unclosed what an unspeakable surprise will\nyou have had at the judgment-seat of your dearest Love, while the\nsongs of heaven are breaking on your ears and the glory of God is\ndawning on your eyes, to fade away no more for ever!\"\n\nWe have already alluded in the first part of this article to Father\nFaber's elegance of appearance and manner, and from a portrait\nprefixed to the biography it seems that he retained his advantages of\nperson to a late period of his life. He was remarkable for his habits\nof order and neatness, and once, when a father remarked upon the\ntidiness of his room, he replied, \"The napkin in the sepulchre was\nfound _folded_ at the resurrection.\" As might be imagined from the\nnarrative of his life, he was always distinguished for gentleness;\nand Father Bowden remarks that he never was severe in the manner of\ncorrecting the faults of his spiritual subjects, except possibly in\nmatters connected with the ceremonial of divine worship. Any defect\nof demeanor during service, or inattention to the requirements of the\nrubric, he rebuked with marked severity. In the church he would have\nevery thing of the best, whether it could be seen by the congregation\nor not. When the new high altar of marble was put up in the Oratory,\nhe was much dissatisfied because the back was not finished like the\nfront, and he found fault with the altar rails for the same reason,\ncomplaining that \"the side next our Lord\" was not ornamented. He was\nvery fond of children, and his correspondence contains some striking\nevidences of his tenderness to them. We have already spoken of his\nlove of humor--a sense which seems naturally to accompany the poetic\ninstinct. His room was at all hours the frequent resort of his\nbrethren who looked upon it as a renewal of St. Philip's \"School of\nChristian Mirth.\" Father Bowden quotes the language of an old friend,\nwho wrote at the time of Father Faber's death of \"the indescribable\ncharm of his private intercourse, of that wonderful brilliancy of\nconversation in which he excelled all those whose social powers have\nmade them the idols of London society as far as they have excelled\nordinary men, of the magic play of his countenance and of his\nvoice, of the unprecedented combination of tenderness in affection,\nunearthliness of aim, and worldly wisdom, which characterized his\nprivate intercourse, and of his power of attracting little children\nand learned men, one as much as the other.\"\n\nFather Bowden has told the story of this beautiful life with\nappreciation and affection, and with no mean literary ability.\nHis style is direct and unaffected, and he is not given to the\nsuperfluity of pious reflection with which the biographers of\nreligious men are so apt to retard their narratives. The volume\ncontains a very copious selection from Father Faber's private\ncorrespondence, so that it may be considered in many portions\nvirtually an autobiography.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[34] _The Life and Letters of Frederick William Faber, D.D., Priest\nof the Oratory of St. Philip Neri._ By John Edward Bowden, of the\nsame Congregation. Baltimore: John Murphy & Co. 1869.\n\n\n\n\nTRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF CONRAD VON BOLANDEN.\n\nANGELA.\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nTHE PROGRESSIVE PROFESSOR.\n\nWhen Frank returned from the walk, he found a visitor at Frankenh\u00f6he.\n\nThe visitor was an elegantly-dressed young man with a free,\nself-important air about him.\n\nHe spoke fluently, and his words sounded as decisive as though they\ncame from the lips of infallibility. At times this self-importance\nwas of such a boastful and arrogant character as to affect the\nobserver disagreeably.\n\n\"It is now vacation, and I do not know how to enjoy it better than by\na visit to you,\" said he.\n\n\"Very flattering to me,\" answered Frank. \"I hope you will be pleased\nwith Frankenh\u00f6he.\"\n\n\"Pleased?\" returned the visitor as he looked through the open window\nat the beautiful landscape. \"I would like to dream away here the\nwhole of May and June. How charming it is! An empire of flowers and\nvernal delights.\"\n\n\"I am surprised, Carl, that you have preserved such a love for\nnature. I thought you considered the professor's chair the\nculminating point of attraction.\"\n\nCarl bowed his head proudly and stood with folded arms before the\nsmiling Frank.\n\n\"That is evidently intended for flattery,\" said he. \"The professor's\nchair is my vocation. He who does not hold his vocation as the acme\nof all attraction is indeed a perfect man. Besides, it will appear\nto you, who consider every thing in the world--not excepting even\nthe fair sex--with blank stoicism; it will appear even to you that\nthe rostrum is destined to accomplish great things. Ripe knowledge\nin mighty pulsations goes forth from the rostrum and permeates\nsociety. The rostrum governs and educates the rising young men who\nare destined to assume leading positions in the state. The rostrum\noverthrows antiquated forms of religious delusion, ennobles rational\nthought, exact science, and deep investigation. The rostrum governs\neven the throne; for we have princes in Germany who esteem liberty\nof thought and progress of knowledge more than the art of governing\ntheir people in a spirit of stupidity.\"\n\nFrank smiled.\n\n\"The glory of the rostrum I leave undisputed,\" said he. \"But I beg\nof you to conceal from the doctor your scientific rule of faith. You\nmay get into trouble with the doctor.\"\n\n\"I am very desirous of becoming acquainted with this paragon of\nlearning--you have told me so much about him; and I confess it was\npartly to see him that I made this visit. Get into trouble? I do not\nfear the old syllogism-chopper in the least. A good disputation with\nhim is even desirable.\"\n\n\"Well, you are forewarned. If you go home with a lacerated back, it\nwill not be my fault.\"\n\n\"A lacerated back?\" said the professor quietly. \"Does the doctor like\nto use _striking_ arguments?\"\n\n\"Oh! no. But his sarcasm is as cutting as the slash of a sword, and\nhis logical vehemence is like the stroke of a club.\"\n\n\"We will fight him with the same weapons,\" answered Carl, throwing\nback his head. \"Shall I pay him my respects immediately?\"\n\n\"The doctor admits no one. In his studio he is as inaccessible as a\nTurkish sultan in his harem. I will introduce you in the dining-room,\nas it is now just dinner-time.\"\n\nThey betook themselves to the dining-room, and soon after they heard\nthe sound of a bell.\n\n\"He is just now called to table,\" said Richard. \"He does not allow\nthe servant to enter his room, and for that reason a bell has been\nhung there.\"\n\n\"How particular he is!\" said the professor.\n\nA door of the ante-room was opened, quick steps were heard, and\nKlingenberg hastily entered and placed himself at the table, as at a\nwork that must be done quickly, and then observed the stranger.\n\n\"Doctor Lutz, professor of history in our university,\" said Frank,\nintroducing him.\n\n\"Doctor Lutz--professor of history,\" said Klingenberg musingly.\n\"Your name is familiar to me, if I am not mistaken; are you not a\ncollaborator on Sybel's historical publication?\"\n\n\"I have that honor,\" answered the professor with much dignity.\n\nThey began to eat.\n\n\"You read Sybel's periodical?\" asked the professor.\n\n\"We must not remain entirely ignorant of literary productions,\nparticularly the more excellent.\"\n\nLutz felt much flattered by this declaration.\n\n\"Sybel's periodical is an unavoidable necessity at present,\" said the\nprofessor. \"Historical research was in a bad way; it threatened to\nsuccumb entirely to the ultramontane cause and the clerical party.\"\n\n\"Now Sybel and his co-laborers will avert that danger,\" said the\ndoctor. \"These men will do honor to historical research. The\nultramontanists have a great respect for Sybel. When he taught in\nMunich, they did not rest till he turned his back on Isar-Athen.\nIn my opinion, Sybel should not have gone to Munich. The stupid\nBavarians will not allow themselves to be enlightened. So let them\nsit in darkness, the stupid barbarians who have no appreciation for\nthe progress of science.\"\n\nThe professor looked astonished. He could not understand how an\nadmirer of Sybel's could be so prejudiced. Frank was alarmed lest\nthe professor might perceive the doctor's keen sarcasm--which he\ndelivered with a serious countenance--and feel offended. He changed\nthe conversation to another subject, in which Klingenberg did not\ntake part.\n\n\"You have represented the doctor incorrectly,\" said the professor,\nafter the meal. \"He understands Sybel and praises his efforts--the\nbest sign of a clear mind.\"\n\n\"Klingenberg is always just,\" returned Frank.\n\nOn the following afternoon, Lutz joined in the accustomed walk. As\nthey were passing through the chestnut grove, a servant of Siegwart's\ncame up breathless, with a letter in his hand, which he gave to Frank.\n\n\"Gentlemen,\" said Frank after reading the letter, \"I am urgently\nrequested to visit Herr Siegwart immediately. With your permission I\nwill go.\"\n\n\"Of course, go,\" said Klingenberg. \"I know,\" he added with a roguish\nexpression, \"that you would as lief visit that excellent man as walk\nwith us.\"\n\nRichard went off in such haste that the question occurred to him why\nhe fulfilled with such zeal the wishes of a man with whom he had been\nso short a time acquainted; but with the question Angela came before\nhis mind as an answer. He rejected this answer, even against his\nfeelings, and declared to himself that Siegwart's honorable character\nand neighborly feeling made his haste natural and even obligatory.\nThe proprietor may have been waiting his arrival, for he came out to\nmeet him. Frank observed a dark cloud over the countenance of the man\nand great anxiety in his features.\n\n\"I beg your forgiveness a thousand times, Herr Frank. I know you go\nwalking with Herr Klingenberg at this hour, and I have deprived you\nof that pleasure.\"\n\n\"No excuse, neighbor. It is a question which would give me greater\npleasure, to serve you or to walk with Klingenberg.\"\n\nRichard smiled while saying these words; but the smile died away,\nfor he saw how pale and suddenly anxious Siegwart had become. They\nhad entered a room, and he desired to know the cause of Siegwart's\nchanged manner.\n\n\"A great and afflicting misfortune threatens us,\" began the\nproprietor. \"My Eliza has been suddenly taken ill, and I have great\nfears for her young life. Oh! if you knew how that child has grown\ninto my heart.\" He paused for a moment and suppressed his grief, but\nhe could not hide from Frank the tears that filled his eyes. Richard\nsaw these tears, and this paternal grief increased his respect for\nSiegwart.\n\n\"The delicate life of a young child does not allow of protracted\nmedical treatment, of consultation or investigation into the disease\nor the best remedies. The disease must be known immediately and\nefficient remedies applied. There are physicians at my command, but I\ndo not dare to trust Eliza to them.\"\n\n\"I presume, Herr Siegwart, that you wish for Klingenberg.\"\n\n\"Yes--and through your mediation. You know that he only treats the\nsick poor; but resolutely refuses his services to the wealthy.\"\n\n\"Do not be uneasy about that. I hope to be able to induce Klingenberg\nto correspond with your wishes. But is Eliza really so sick, or does\nyour apprehension increase your anxiety?\"\n\n\"I will show you the child, and then you can judge for yourself.\"\nThey went up-stairs and quietly entered the sick-room. Angela sat on\nthe little bed of the child, reading. The child was asleep, but the\nnoise of their entrance awoke her. She reached out her little round\narms to her father, and said in a scarcely audible whisper,\n\n\"Papa--papa!\"\n\nThis whispered \"papa\" seemed to pierce the soul of Siegwart like a\nknife. He drew near and leant over the child.\n\n\"You will be well to-morrow, my sweet pet. Do you see, Herr Frank has\ncome to see you?\"\n\n\"Mamma!\" whispered the child.\n\n\"Your mother will come to-morrow, my Eliza. She will bring you\nsomething pretty. My wife has been for the last two weeks at her\nsister's, who lives a few miles from here,\" said Siegwart, turning to\nFrank. \"I sent a messenger for her early this morning.\"\n\nWhile the father sat on the bed and held Eliza's hand in his, Frank\nobserved Angela, who scarcely turned her eyes from the sick child.\nHer whole soul seemed taken up with her suffering sister. Only once\nhad she looked inquiringly at Frank, to read in his face his opinion\nof the condition of Eliza. She stood immovable at the foot of the\nbed, as mild, as pure, and as beautiful as the guardian angel of the\nchild.\n\nBoth men left the room.\n\n\"I will immediately seek the doctor, who is now on his walk,\" said\nFrank.\n\n\"Shall I send my servant for him?\"\n\n\"That is unnecessary,\" returned Frank. \"And even if your servant\nshould find the doctor, he would probably not be inclined to shorten\nhis walk. Our gardener, who works in the chestnut grove, will show me\nthe way the doctor took. In an hour and a half at furthest I will be\nback.\"\n\nThe young man pressed the outstretched hand of Siegwart, and hastened\naway.\n\nIn the mean time the doctor and the professor had reached a narrow,\nwooded ravine, on both sides of which the rocks rose almost\nperpendicularly. The path on which they walked passed near a little\nbrook, that flowed rippling over the pebbles in its bed. The\nbranches of the young beeches formed a green roof over the path, and\nonly here and there were a few openings through which the sun shot\nits sloping beams across the cool, dusky way, and in the sunbeams\nfloated and danced dust-colored insects and buzzing flies.\n\nThe learned saunterers continued their amusement without altercation\nuntil the professor's presumption offended the doctor and led to a\nvehement dispute.\n\nKlingenberg did not appear on the stage of publicity. He left\nboasting and self-praise to others, far inferior to him in knowledge.\nHe despised that tendency which pursues knowledge only to command,\nwhich cries down any inquiry that clashes with their theories.\nThe doctor published no learned work, nor did he write for the\nperiodicals, to defend his views. But if he happened to meet a\nscientific opponent, he fought him with sharp, cutting weapons.\n\n\"I do not doubt of the final victory of true science over the\nfalsifying party spirit of the ultramontanes,\" said the professor.\n\"Sybel's periodical destroys, year by year, more and more the\ncrumbling edifice which the clerical zealots build on the untenable\nfoundation of falsified facts.\"\n\nKlingenberg tore his cap from his head and swung it about vehemently,\nand made such long strides that the other with difficulty kept up\nwith him. Suddenly he stopped, turned about, and looked the professor\nsharply in the eyes.\n\n\"You praise Sybel's publication unjustly,\" said he excitedly. \"It\nis true Sybel has founded a historical school, and has won many\nimitators; but his is a school destructive of morality and of\nhistory--a school of scientific radicalism, a school of falsehood\nand deceitfulness. Sybel and his followers undertake to mould and\ndistort history to their purposes. They slur over every thing that\ncontradicts their theories. To them the ultramontanes are partial,\nprejudiced men--or perhaps asses and dunces; you are unfortunately\nright when you say Sybel's school wins ground; for Sybel and his\nfellows have brought lying and falsification to perfection. They\nhave in Germany perplexed minds, and have brought their historical\nfalsifications to market as true ware.\"\n\nThe professor could scarcely believe his own ears.\n\n\"I have given you freely and openly my judgment, which need not\noffend you, as it refers to principles, not persons.\"\n\n\"Not in the least,\" answered Lutz derisively. \"I admit with pleasure\nthat Sybel's school is anti-church, and even anti-Christian, if\nyou will. There is no honor in denying this. The denial would be\nof no use; for this spirit speaks too loudly and clearly in that\nschool. Sybel and his associates keep up with the enlightenment and\nliberalism of our times. But I must contradict you when you say this\nfree tendency is injurious to society; the seed of free inquiry and\nhuman enlightenment can bring forth only good fruits.\"\n\n\"Oh! we know this fruit of the new heathenism,\" cried the doctor.\n\"There is no deed so dark, no crime so great, that it may not be\ndefended according to the anti-Christian principles of vicious\nenlightenment and corrupt civilization. Sybel's school proves this\nwith striking clearness. Tyrants are praised and honored. Noble men\nare defamed and covered with dirt.\"\n\n\"This you assert, doctor; it is impossible to prove such a\ndeclaration.\"\n\n\"Impossible! Not at all. Sybel's periodical exalts to the seventh\nheaven the tyrant Henry VIII. of England. You extol him as a\nconscientious man who was compelled by scruples of conscience to\nseparate from his wife. You commend him for having but one mistress.\nYou say that the sensualities of princes are only of 'anecdotal\ninterest.' Naturally,\" added the doctor contemptuously, \"a school\nthat cuts loose from Christian principles cannot consistently condemn\nadultery. Fie! fie! Debauchees and men of gross sensuality might sit\nin Sybel's enlightened school. Progress overthrows the cross, and\nerects the crescent. We may yet live to see every wealthy man of\nthe new enlightenment have his harem. Whether society can withstand\nthe detestable consequences of this teaching of licentiousness and\ncontempt for Christian morality, is a consideration on which these\nprogressive gentlemen do not reflect.\"\n\n\"I admit, doctor,\" said Lutz, \"that the clear light of free,\nimpartial science must needs hurt the eyes of a pious believer.\nAccording to the opinions of the ultramontanes, Henry VIII. was a\nterrible tyrant and blood-hound. Sybel's periodical deserves the\ncredit of having done justice to that great king.\"\n\n\"Do you say so?\" cried the doctor, with flaming eyes. \"You, a\nprofessor of history in the university! You, who are appointed to\nteach our young men the truth! Shame on you! What you say is nothing\nbut stark hypocrisy. I appeal to the heathen. You may consider\nreligion from the stand-point of an ape, for what I care; your\ncynicism, which is not ashamed to equalize itself with the brute,\nmay also pass. But this hypocrisy, this fallacious representation of\nhistorical facts and persons, this hypocrisy before my eyes--this I\ncannot stand; this must be corrected.\"\n\nThe doctor actually doubled up his fists. Lutz saw it and saw also\nthe wild fire in the eyes of his opponent, and was filled with\napprehension and anxiety.\n\nErect and silent, fiery indignation in his flushed countenance, stood\nKlingenberg before the frightened professor. As Lutz still held his\ntongue, the doctor continued,\n\n\"You call Henry VIII. a 'great king,' you extol and defend this\n'great king' in Sybel's periodical. I say Henry VIII. was a great\nscoundrel, a blackguard without a conscience, and a bloodthirsty\ntyrant. I prove my assertion. Henry VIII. caused to be executed\ntwo queens who were his wives--two cardinals, twelve dukes and\nmarquises, eighteen barons and knights, seventy-seven abbots and\npriors, and over sixty thousand Catholics. Why did he have them\nexecuted? Because they were criminals? No; because they remained true\nto their consciences and to the religion of their fathers. All these\nfell victims to the cruelty of Henry VIII., whom you style a 'great\nking.' You glorify a man who for blood-thirstiness and cruelty can be\nplaced by the side of Nero and Diocletian. That is my retort to your\nhypocrisy and historical mendacity.\"\n\nThe stern doctor having emptied his vials of wrath, now walked on\nquietly; Lutz with drooping head followed in silence.\n\n\"Sybel does not even stop with Henry VIII.,\" again began the doctor.\n\"These enlightened gentlemen undertake to glorify even Tiberius, that\ninhuman monster. They might as well have the impudence to glorify\ncruelty itself. On the other hand, truly great men, such as Tilly,\nare abandoned to the hatred of the ignorant.\"\n\n\"This is unjust,\" said the professor hastily. \"Sybel's periodical\nin the second volume says that Tilly was often calumniated by party\nspirit; that the destruction of Magdeburg belongs to the class of\nunproved and improbable events. The periodical proves that Tilly's\nconduct in North Germany was mild and humane, that he signalized\nhimself by his simplicity, unselfishness, and conscientiousness.\"\n\n\"Does Sybel's periodical say all this?\"\n\n\"Word for word, and much more in praise of that magnanimous man,\"\nsaid Lutz. \"From this you may know that science is just even to pious\nheroes.\"\n\nKlingenberg smiled characteristically, and in his smile was an\nexpression of ineffable contempt.\n\nHe stopped before the professor.\n\n\"You have just quoted what impartial historical research informs\nus of Tilly, in the second and third volumes. It is so. I remember\nperfectly having read that favorable account. Now let me quote\nwhat the same periodical says of the same Tilly in the seventeenth\nvolume. There we read that Tilly was a hypocrite and a blood-hound,\nwhose name cannot be mentioned without a shudder; furthermore, we\nare told that Tilly burned Magdeburg, that he waged a ravaging war\nagainst men, women, children, and property. You see, then, in the\nsecond and third volumes that Tilly was a conscientious, mild man\nand pious hero; in the seventeenth volume, that he was a tyrant and\nblood-hound. It appears from this with striking clearness that the\nenlightened progressionists do not stick at contradiction, mendacity,\nand defamation.\"\n\nThe professor lowered his eyes and stood embarrassed.\n\n\"I leave you, 'Herr Professor,' to give a name to such a procedure.\nBesides, I must also observe that the strictly scientific method, as\nit labels itself at present, does not stop at personal defamation.\nAs every holy delusion and religious superstition must be destroyed\nin the hearts of the students, this lying and defamation extends to\nthe historical truths of faith. It is taught from the professors'\nchairs, and confirmed by the scientific journals, that confession is\nan invention of the middle ages; while you must know from thorough\nresearch that confession has existed up to the time of the apostles.\nYou teach and write that Innocent III. introduced the doctrine of\ntransubstantiation in the thirteenth century; while every one having\nthe least knowledge of history knows that at the council of 1215 it\nwas only made a duty to receive the holy communion at Easter, that\nthe fathers of the first ages speak of transubstantiation--that\nit has its foundation in Scripture. You know as well as I do that\nindulgences were imparted even in the first century: but this does\nnot prevent you from teaching that the popes of the middle ages\ninvented indulgences from love of money, and sold them from avarice.\nThus the progressive science lies and defames, yet is not ashamed to\nraise high the banner of enlightenment; thus you lead people into\nerror, and destroy youth. Fie! fie!\"\n\nThe doctor turned and was about to proceed when he heard his name\ncalled. Frank hastened to him, the perspiration running from his\nforehead, and his breast heaving from rapid breathing. In a few words\nhe made known Eliza's illness, and Siegwart's request.\n\n\"You know,\" said Klingenberg, \"that I treat only the poor, who\ncannot easily get a physician.\"\n\n\"Make an exception in this case, doctor, I beg of you most earnestly!\nYou respect Siegwart yourself for his integrity, and I also of late\nhave learned to esteem the excellent man, whose heart at present is\nrent with anxiety and distress. Save this child, doctor; I beg of you\nsave it.\"\n\nKlingenberg saw the young man's anxiety and goodness, and benevolence\nbeamed on his still angry face.\n\n\"I see,\" said he, \"that no refusal is to be thought of. Well, we\nwill go.\" And he immediately set off with long strides on his way\nback. Richard cast a glance at the professor, who followed, gloomy\nand spiteful. He saw the angry look he now and then turned on the\nhastening doctor, and knew that a sharp contest must have taken\nplace. But his solicitude for Siegwart's child excluded all other\nsympathy. On the way he exchanged only a few words with Lutz,\nwho moved on morosely, and was glad when Klingenberg and Richard\nseparated from him in the vicinity of Frankenh\u00f6he.\n\nTen minutes later they entered the house of Siegwart. The doctor\nstood for a moment observing the child without touching it. The\nlittle one opened her eyes, and appeared to be frightened at the\nstrange man with the sharp features. Siegwart and Angela read\nanxiously in the doctor's immovable countenance. As Eliza said\n\"Papa,\" in a peculiar, feverish tone, Klingenberg moved away from\nthe bed. He cast a quick glance at the father, went to the window\nand drummed with his fingers on the glass. Frank read in that quick\nglance that Eliza must die. Angela must also have guessed the\ndoctor's opinion, for she was very much affected; her head sank on\nher breast and tears burst from her eyes.\n\nKlingenberg took out his note-book, wrote something on a small slip\nof paper, and ordered the recipe to be taken immediately to the\napothecary. He then took his departure.\n\n\"What do you think of the child?\" said Siegwart, as they passed over\nthe yard.\n\n\"The child is very sick; send for me in the morning if it be\nnecessary.\"\n\nFrank and the doctor went some distance in silence. The young man\nthought of the misery the death of Eliza would bring on that happy\nfamily, and the pale, suffering Angela in particular stood before him.\n\n\"Is recovery not possible?\"\n\n\"No. The child will surely die to-night. I prescribed only a soothing\nremedy. I am sorry for Siegwart; he is one of the few fathers who\nhang with boundless love on their children--particularly when they\nare young. The man must call forth all his strength to bear up\nagainst it.\"\n\nWhen Frank entered his room, he found Lutz in a very bad humor.\n\n\"You have judged that old bear much too leniently,\" began the\nprofessor. \"The man is a model of coarseness and intolerable bigotry.\"\n\n\"I thought so,\" said Frank. \"I know you and I know the doctor; and I\nknew two such rugged antitheses must affect each other unpleasantly.\nWhat occasioned your dispute?\"\n\n\"What! A thousand things,\" answered his friend ill-humoredly. \"The\nold rhinoceros has not the least appreciation of true knowledge. He\ncarries haughtily the long wig of antiquated stupidity, and does not\nsee the shallowness of the swamp in which he wallows. The genius of\nChristianity is to him the sublime. Where this stops, pernicious\nenlightenment--which corrupts the people, turns churches into\nball-rooms, and the Bible into a book of fables--begins.\"\n\n\"The doctor is not wrong there,\" said Frank earnestly. \"Are they\nnot endeavoring with all their strength to deprive the Bible of\nits divine character? Does not one Schenkel in Heidelberg deny\nthe divinity of Christ? Is not this Schenkel the director of a\ntheological faculty? Do not some Catholic professors even begin to\ndogmatize and dispute the authority of the holy see?\"\n\n\"We rejoice at the consoling fact that Catholic _savants_ themselves\nbreak the fetters with which Rome's infallibility has bound in\nadamantine chains the human mind!\" cried Lutz with enthusiasm.\n\n\"It appears strange to me when young men--scarcely escaped from the\nschool, and boasting of all modern knowledge--cast aside as old,\nworthless rubbish what great minds of past ages have deeply pondered.\nThe see of Rome and its dogmas have ruled the world for eighteen\nhundred years. Rome's dogmas overthrew the old world and created a\nnew one. They have withstood and survived storms that have engulfed\nall else besides. Such strength excites wonder and admiration, but\nnot contempt.\"\n\n\"I let your eulogy on Rome pass,\" said the professor. \"But as Rome\nand her dogmas have overthrown heathenism, so will the irresistible\nprogress of science overthrow Christianity. Coming generations will\nsmile as complacently at the God of Christendom as we consider with\nastonishment the great and small gods of the heathen.\"\n\n\"I do not desire the realization of your prophecy,\" said Frank\ngloomily; \"for it must be accompanied by convulsions that will\ntransform the whole world, and therefore I do not like to see an\nanti-Christian tendency pervading science.\"\n\n\"Tendency, tendency!\" said Lutz, hesitating. \"In science there is no\ntendency; there is but truth.\"\n\n\"Easy, friend, easy! Be candid and just. You will not deny that the\ntendency of Sybel's school is to war against the church?\"\n\n\"Certainly, in so far as the church contends against truth and\nthorough investigation.\"\n\n\"Good; and the friends of the church will contend against you in so\nfar as you are inimical to the spirit of the church. And so, tendency\non one side, tendency on the other. But it is you who make the more\nnoise. As soon as a book opposed to you appears,--'Partial!' you say\nwith contemptuous mien; 'Odious!' 'Ecclesiastical!' 'Unreadable!' and\nit is forthwith condemned. But it appears to me natural that a man\nshould labor and write in a cause which is to him the noblest cause.\"\n\n\"I am astonished, Richard! You did not think formerly as you now do.\nBut I should not be surprised if your intercourse with the doctor\nis not without its effects.\" This the professor said in a cutting\ntone. Frank turned about and walked the room. The observation of his\nfriend annoyed him, and he reflected whether his views had actually\nundergone any change.\n\n\"You deceive yourself. I am still the same,\" said he. \"You cannot\nmistrust me because I do not take part with you against the doctor.\"\n\nCarl sat for a time thinking.\n\n\"Is my presence at the table necessary?\" said he. \"I do not wish to\nmeet the doctor again.\"\n\n\"That would be little in you. You must not avoid the doctor. You must\nconvince yourself that he does not bear any ill-will on account of\nthat scientific dispute. With all his rough bluntness, Klingenberg is\na noble man. Your non-appearance at table must offend him, and at the\nsame time betray your annoyance.\"\n\n\"I obey,\" answered Lutz. \"To-morrow I will go for a few days to the\nmountains. On my return I will remain another day with you.\"\n\nFrank's assurance was confirmed. The doctor met the guest as if\nnothing unpleasant had happened. In the cool of the evening he went\nwith the young men into the garden, and spoke with such familiarity\nof Tacitus, Livy, and other historians of antiquity that the\nprofessor admired his erudition.\n\nFrank wrote in his diary:\n\n     \"May 20th.--After mature reflection, I find that the views which\n     I believed to be strongly founded begin to totter. What would\n     the professor say if he knew that not the doctor, but a country\n     family, and that, too, ultramontane, begin to shake the foundation\n     of my views? Would he not call me weak?\"\n\nHe laid down the pen and sat sullenly reflecting.\n\n     \"All my impressions of the ultramontane family be herewith\n     effaced,\" he wrote further. \"The only fact I admit is, that even\n     ultramontanes also can be good people. But this fact shall in no\n     wise destroy my former convictions.\"\n\n    TO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\n\n\nFROM THE REVUE DU MONDE CATHOLIQUE.\n\nTHE COUNCIL AND THE ROMAN CONGREGATIONS.[35]\n\n\nThe Council of Trent was the eighteenth general council, and\nterminated its sessions in the year 1562. None had preceded it for\nupward of a century, and during the three hundred years which have\nsince elapsed the church has failed to witness one of these august\nassemblies.\n\nHence it has been objected that, since the sixteenth century, the\nsafeguards of truth and liberty have been diminished, and that the\nabsence, in modern times, of those councils, which were so frequent\nduring the first ages, manifests an intention on the part of the\npopes to exercise their authority with the utmost rigor, and to\ngovern alone, without the assistance of those lights to which their\npredecessors did not deem it humiliating to appeal.\n\nThis imputation is, however, contrary to the truth. During the first\nthree centuries there was no general council. Since then, as all\nadmit, the sovereign pontiffs have had the sole right to summon\nthese assemblies, and have been the sole judges as to when this\nshould be done. This power was conferred upon them with the especial\ndesign that they might use it without incurring any blame from those\nwho never were made their judges. In the exercise of it they are\ninfluenced by reasons which we cannot estimate. They know better than\nany one else the wants of the church, the condition of the world,\nthe inconveniences, the obstacles, and the dangers which oppose such\nan assemblage. Possibly, also, they perceive in history certain\nreasons which modify their action. In modern times the secular power\nloves to meddle with the affairs of the church. It desires to make\nreligion a handmaid of politics, and, thoroughly enamored of its own\nindependence, it would sink to the lowest limit the freedom of the\nchurch. Its manifest impiety, its sceptical principles, which, under\nthe names of toleration and liberty of conscience, have penetrated\nits governments, have rendered its interference far more disastrous\nin modern times than at any former period in history. The kings of\nthe middle ages did indeed wish to make the church serve their own\nends, but they, at least, were in their turn faithful to her. They\nheld fast to her dogmas, and submitted humbly to her discipline.\nTheir combination was to rule, not to overthrow and destroy. But\nsuch is not the temper of these modern governments, all or nearly\nall of which seek to hold religion itself in subjection. For this\npurpose they establish national churches, which are attached to the\nuniversal church by a tie which may easily at any time be broken.\nThey exalt the authority of bishops, that thereby they may diminish\nthat of popes. They exhibit a desire to lodge the government of the\nchurch in councils, and to use these assemblies for the introduction\nof extensive modifications into ecclesiastical law. The councils of\nBasle and Constance showed indications of these projects, and it was\nthrough no fault of the secular power that the Council of Trent did\nnot realize them.\n\nThus also is explained the laudable design of the sovereign pontiffs\nin contending against these disastrous tendencies, and in showing\nto the world, by long experience, that the fundamental power in the\nchurch rests with them. They have wished to remove from princes the\nmeans upon which they had so often relied for the overthrow of\necclesiastical authority. This is the reason why the popes, during\nthe last three centuries, have convoked no council, but have sought\nfrom different institutions such assistance as they have required.\n\nIt is for the purpose of affording this assistance that the Roman\ncongregations have been established. Their origin may be found\nin those consistories of cardinals which, from the ninth to the\nsixteenth centuries, constituted the permanent senate of the pontiff,\nand assembled twice or thrice a week in his palace, to consider\nmeasures for the reformation of both clergy and people, to receive\nthe complaints of all classes of the faithful, and to decide the\ncontroversies and disputes of the entire world. These consistories\nwere themselves the offspring of those Roman councils which were so\nfrequent during the first ten ages of the church; for it may be well\nremarked that the church, though based upon the supreme authority\nof the popes, has never neglected those human institutions which\ncould increase its influence or lighten the labors of its head. Its\nprinciples have always been the same, but it has suited the method of\ntheir application to the necessities of each succeeding age.\n\nLike the councils, the consistories were composed of men renowned\nfor their faith, their learning, and their sanctity. The sovereign\npontiffs continually added to the college of cardinals the most\nillustrious of the clergy, and called to Rome, from all quarters of\nthe globe, those religious, those ecclesiastics, and those prelates\nwhose assistance they deemed most useful in the government of\nthe church. These men were absolutely independent of the secular\npower, and totally secluded from its influence. Living in constant\nintercourse with the pontiff himself, they enjoyed all necessary\nliberty; they exercised for life the powers confided to them; they\nhad no worldly care or fear, and they enjoyed a rank from which they\ncould not be deposed. They spent their time in prayer, in charitable\nworks, in the study of sacred literature, and in the discharge\nof their duties. Where could be found more intelligence, greater\nlearning, or more ample guarantees for the preservation of truth?\n\nThe principle of the church, that her power, though essentially\nresident in the person of one, should be disseminated through\nthe instrumentality of many, is applicable to all degrees of the\necclesiastical hierarchy.\n\nThus, the bishop and his chapter are considered as forming but one\nbody, while yet the decretal _novit_ of Alexander III. secures to\nbishops the management of their own churches without the consent\nor co-operation of their brethren. Thus, also, the popes have near\nthem a body of cardinals, an illustrious senate, composed of the\nmost learned and holy men of the whole world, who assist them in the\ndirection of the church. This senate, collected in one assemblage\nunder the presidency of the pontiff, forms the consistory, at whose\nsessions the most important causes are frequently determined.\n\nThe extension of the faith, the multiplicity of appeals to the holy\nsee, the more complicated developments of modern life, and the\nincreased entanglements of the church with the world have, however,\nrendered necessary a more frequent intervention of authority, and\nadded vastly to the number of those causes on which the holy see has\nbeen obliged to pronounce judgment.\n\nThe government of the church is by far the most extensive of the\ngovernments of the earth. It is not bounded by the limits of any\nparticular kingdom, but reaches throughout the globe, as well to\nthose countries whose heathen populations demand its constant care,\nas to those Catholic states which are directly subject to the\njurisdiction of the apostolic see. From all these places innumerable\ncases constantly arrive at Rome, each of which demands, for its\nproper determination, a profound examination. These are not like\ncases which are submitted to the civil tribunals, in which material\ninterests only are at stake, and for which a temporary solution is\nsufficient. They are questions of doctrine, which demand an answer\nrigorously exact, since these answers determine faith. They are\nquestions of administration, which interest secular institutions,\ngreat personages, often entire provinces and kingdoms. They are\nquestions of conscience, upon which depend the peace and salvation of\nsouls. These decisions, whatever they may be, will always be received\nwith an unqualified respect and a perfect docility, which impose upon\ntheir authors an obligation to exercise the utmost care. And yet it\nis also necessary to judge quickly, for the affairs are often of a\nvital importance which will not brook delay.\n\nIt would be, of course, impossible for the sovereign pontiff to\nexamine personally all these various matters, and to decide upon\nthem in a single assembly. Hence the college of cardinals has been\ndivided into a certain number of sections, to each of which pertains\nthe examination of some particular class of cases. This division did\nnot take place all at once. It grew into existence by the successive\nerection of different congregations instituted as fast and in such\nproportions as necessity seemed to require.\n\nThat which is especially remarkable about these institutions is\nthe protection which they give to private interests, since the\nsubmission of each affair to the scrutiny of many persons is a\nsecurity for knowledge, independence, and impartiality in its\ndecision. Moreover, these institutions preserve the customs and\nthe character of an ecclesiastical government. We have mentioned\nthe relationship of bishops and their chapters. Every chapter was\nsubdivided into commissions, to each of which a separate part in the\nadministration of the diocese was assigned. One had the spiritual and\nscholastic direction of the episcopal seminaries; another, that of\nthe temporalities; and still another, the examination and reception\nof the candidates for the priesthood. These commissions bear a\ncertain resemblance to the Roman congregations. The latter were\nestablished by the voluntary action of the sovereign pontiffs. The\nCouncil of Trent was not occupied with them. It regulated diocesan\nadministration as it believed useful, but it left the administration\nof the universal church to the wisdom of the popes; so that precisely\nat the time when its enemies think they can detect tendencies on the\npart of the holy see to absolutism, the pontiffs without constraint,\nbut of their own accord, organize those institutions which are the\nbest safeguards against the dangers of absolute power.\n\nIn reckoning up the number of those who, under different titles,\ntake part in these labors, we discover that the Roman congregations\nform an entire assemblage of five hundred persons, all illustrious\nfor their piety and learning. Many councils have been less numerous.\nThese constitute a sort of permanent council, which is in daily\ncommunication with all the churches of the world, and which, not\nbeing limited in duration, can bring to the questions which are\nsubmitted to it all desirable deliberation. Perfect order presides\nover its labors. Like the councils, it is divided into sections, to\nwhich the members are assigned according to their peculiar aptitudes.\nThese sections, which are the congregations properly so called, are\npermanent also, and consequently are enabled to devote themselves to\nthe study of all the branches of ecclesiastical administration for\nthe purpose of determining its principles. Finally, like the councils\nthemselves, they draw their authority from the sovereign pontiff, and\ntheir decisions are subject to his approval.\n\nThe attributes of these congregations are manifold and various.\nThey may be arranged under three principal heads: administrative,\ndeliberative, and judicial.\n\nThe Roman congregations are the supreme directors of ecclesiastical\nadministration. The sovereign pontiff adopts no measures which\naffect the government of dioceses, the communities of religious, the\nmissions, or the ceremonies of the ritual; he grants no faculties\nor dispensations; he fills no important position in the church,\nuntil the congregation to whose sphere the case belongs has been\nsummoned to consider it. Often, indeed, the congregation itself\nfirst perceives the necessity to be provided for. If it be a matter\nof small moment, the president or secretary of the congregation,\neither by virtue of his office or by special concession, will render\na decision. If the matter is of higher consequence, it is previously\nsubmitted to the pope, and a decision rendered, as it is called, _ex\naudentia summi pontificis_. If it is of the highest character, it\nwill receive special care and be considered in a full congregation.\nIn every case these acts derive their administrative power from\nthe authority given to the sovereign pontiff over the church. They\nuse this power, manifesting itself in council, with the assistance\nof renowned and holy men and in a manner worthy of him who made the\nworld with number, weight, and measure.\n\nThese congregations have also to resolve the doubts which arise\nupon different points of canon law. Sometimes propositions in the\nabstract are submitted to them for the determination of discipline\nor ceremonies; sometimes they consult upon the application of a\ngeneral law to some particular case which does not seem to come\nentirely within its provisions. They occupy in the church the place\nof a central light to which every one, prelate or layman, king or\nsimple citizen, may come for illumination. They are not only the\nadviser of the sovereign, but of all his subjects. No institution\nof the secular power can be compared to them. He who has doubts\nupon the interpretation of civil law is able to consult its doctors\nand professors only in detail. The council of state has no power to\nrespond to individuals who interrogate it; its advice is given only\nwhen the government demands it. The courts can render only concrete,\nparticular decisions upon stated cases. More liberal than the state,\nthe church holds its wisdom at the disposal of every conscience. It\nresponds to all, and, without regard to the dignity of persons, it\ninvestigates with the same care the questions they propound; for it\nalways acts for the salvation of souls, and considers every soul\nredeemed by the blood of Christ as of infinite price.\n\nThe method of procedure in these deliberations shows the care\nwhich the church exercises over every matter of this nature. The\nquestion is first examined and discussed in a \"consultation;\" which\ndocument is referred to all or a portion of the members, according\nto the nature of the affair and the usages of the congregation.\nThe consultors are advised with. The question is submitted to the\njudgment of eminent cardinals united in full congregation. The\ndecision is laid before the pope, whose approval must be obtained\nbefore its promulgation. Then this decision becomes an authentic\ninterpretation of law, not merely on account of the official\nauthority of the congregation, but on account of the approbation\nof the sovereign pontiff. It possesses legislative authority and\nhas the force of law. Further on we shall see that although these\ncongregations, being officially invested by the holy see with the\nright of interpreting law, render definitive decisions which are\nindisputable and cannot be raised by any other authority, yet they\nare not thereby to be considered as infallible. Their judgments are\nobligatory because supreme, not because they are infallible.\n\nFinally, these congregations are the final tribunals for the\ndetermination of ecclesiastical causes. Sometimes these causes\nare brought by way of appeal from the decrees and sentences of\nthe ordinaries of different places. Sometimes the parties submit\ndirectly to their decision questions never before raised at an\ninferior tribunal. All these congregations possess judicial powers,\nand are able to resolve contested cases. The chief of those to which\nappeals are taken are, however, the Congregation of the Council and\nthe Congregation of Bishops and Regulars. The causes thus submitted\nare both civil and criminal. The Congregation of the Holy Office is\nthe supreme tribunal for the crimes and misdemeanors which concern\nfaith, such as heresy, polygamy, detention of prohibited books,\ninfraction of fasts, the celebration of mass, and the administration\nof the sacraments by men who are not priests, the public veneration\nof unbeatified dead, and the superstitions of astrology and false\nrevelations. The Congregation of Bishops and Regulars is the ordinary\njudge of appeals in those criminal causes which do not come under\nthe jurisdiction of the Holy Office. The Congregation of the Council\ndetermines those cases which are specified by the Council of Trent.\n\nThese congregations, fifteen in number, are as follows:\n\n     1. The Congregation of the Holy Office, established by Paul III.\n\n     2. The Congregation of the Council, established by Pius IV.\n\n     3. The Congregation of the Index, established by Leo X.\n\n     4 and 5. The Congregation of Bishops and Regulars, established by\n     Gregory XIII. and Sixtus V.\n\n     6. The Congregation of Rites, established by Sixtus V.\n\n     7. The Congregation of Schools, established by Sixtus V.\n\n     8. The Congregation of the Consistory, established by Sixtus V.\n\n     9. The Congregation of the Examination of Bishops, established by\n     Clement VIII.\n\n     10. The Congregation of the Propaganda, established by Gregory XV.\n\n     11. The Congregation of Ecclesiastical Immunities, established by\n     Urban VIII.\n\n     12. The Congregation of the Residence of Bishops, established by\n     Clement VIII. and Benedict XIV.\n\n     13. The Congregation of Indulgences, established by Clement IX.\n\n     14. The Congregation of Extraordinary Affairs, established by Pius\n     VII.\n\n     15. The Congregation of Oriental Rites, established by Pius IX.\n\nThe first of these congregations, as well in the order of their\nimportance as of their origin, is that of the Holy Office. The\nprinciple upon which it is based, although violently attacked in\nour day, is certainly incontestable. Man has no right to propagate\nerror; for error is an evil which causes public disturbance and\ndisorder, and is especially dangerous to the ignorant and feeble,\nof whom the greater part of mankind is composed. Civil tribunals\nand temporal governments never hesitate to use this right as\none necessary to their self-preservation. It is not, therefore,\nsurprising that the church claims it, since it is a perfect society,\nand owes to itself the duty of self-protection. Rather should it\nexercise this right with the most unquestioned authority, being\nitself infallible, and able to discriminate with absolute exactness\nbetween truth and error.\n\nTwenty years before the conclusion of the Council of Trent, by a bull\ndated July 2d, 1542, Pope Paul III. established the Congregation of\nthe Holy Office, composed of six cardinals, for the increase and\ndefence of the Catholic faith. The successors of Paul III. confirmed\nthis congregation and increased the number of its members. Sixtus\nV. solemnly recognized its existence in 1588, in his bull _Immensa\n\u00c6terni_. This congregation is usually presided over by the pope\nhimself.\n\nThe Congregation of the Council was established by Pius IV., in\norder to carry into effect the decrees of the Council of Trent,\nand received from Sixtus V. the faculty of interpreting, with\napostolic authority, all the disciplinary canons of that august\nassembly. The Council of Trent was bound by no precedents in\nregulating particular points of discipline. It reviewed the whole\nbody of canons, confirming whatever in the former law ought to be\npreserved, completing what was lacking, and publishing a full code of\necclesiastical discipline. In spite of the care with which all these\nnew dispositions had been made, difficulties soon began to arise as\nto their interpretation and application. The council had foreseen\nthis, and left it to the sovereign pontiff to provide for the\nnecessity. On this account, the pope instituted a permanent tribunal,\ncomposed, at the outset, of those cardinals who had assisted at the\ncouncil, who understood its spirit, and knew how best to preserve and\ntransmit its traditions. This was the Congregation of the Council.\nThe religious orders already possessed an analogous institution. That\nof Citeaux had always had some one power charged with the duty of\ninterpreting the rule. A similar tribunal is indispensable in every\nwell-ordered state. It guards the law from the deviations of custom,\nand the abuse of private interpretation. It affords to it unity and\nfixedness. Every modern government has its supreme court of appeals,\nwhich exists almost solely for this object. But the institution of\nthese latter is comparatively recent, while the church has possessed\nhers for many ages, and, in fact, gave to those of the state the\nfirst impulse and example.\n\nThe Congregation of the Index was established by St. Pius V. Its\npowers were afterward extended and confirmed by Gregory XIII. in\n1572, by Sixtus V. in 1588, by Clement VIII. in 1595, and by other\nsovereign pontiffs. The principle upon which its authority reposes is\nindisputable. In every age the church has restrained the propagation\nof false doctrines and prohibited the perusal of such books as\nwere dangerous to faith and morals. The invention of printing, in\n1450, constrained it to watch with increased solicitude for the\naccomplishment of this duty. In 1513, the fifth Council of Lateran\nforbade the publication of any book without its previous examination\nby the ordinary of the place. The efforts put forth for the spread\nof Protestantism called for efforts still more vigorous in defence of\nthe church. The Council of Trent re\u00ebnacted the laws concerning the\nIndex. It published the ten rules which are now regarded as the germ\nof all modern legislation concerning the press. The establishment of\nthis congregation was but the organization and practical realization\nof those principles which the church has always recognized, and of\nwhich all states to-day admit the necessity.\n\nThe Congregation of the Index examines books and forbids those\nwhich are false and immoral. Christians have need of some learned\nand impartial authority to designate for them such books as they\nought not to read, and all sincere men admit the usefulness of this\nwarning; for many books are certainly unprofitable and injurious to\nevery one. Even though civil governments have criticised the rules\nof the Index, they have not hesitated to adopt and use them as the\nnucleus of their legislation concerning the press. The oath imposed\nupon printers and booksellers, the deposit of a copy of each work\nbefore it is offered for sale, the obligation of placing upon the\ntitle-page the name of the printer, and of the signature of the\nwriters to articles in newspapers, are all embodied in the rules of\nClement VII. The prescriptions of the Index forbid the distribution\nof manuscript and printed books which have not been duly approved,\nin the same manner as the state prohibits those which have not been\nduly stamped; except that the church has not invented stamps, nor\ndoes a revenue result from its prescriptions. Moreover, the state\ndemands an approbation, or, in other words, exercises a censorship,\nwhich, though now very greatly decried, is still enforced in regard\nto plays, and, when occasion demands, to other publications also.\nThere is merely this difference, that the church causes its books to\nbe examined by bishops, by cardinals, by men who are at once learned\nand impartial, while civil governments confide this responsibility\nto men who are often more ignorant and less careful of morality than\nthe authors whom they control. The state has indeed adopted the\ninstitution of the church, but it has greatly perverted it.\n\nThe decisions of this congregation are binding in all places; not\nbecause the tribunal is infallible, but because it is supreme, and\nbecause the popes have extended its authority over the whole church.\nSome, like the Gallicans, have claimed the validity of their contrary\nusages; but no custom can avail against law, especially when it is\nuniversally acknowledged that the power of the lawgiver extends over\nthe whole world, and that no person, whatever his rank, or titles, or\nprivileges, is exempt from its decrees.\n\nThe Congregation of Bishops was established by Gregory XIII. The\nCongregation of Regulars, which was afterward established by Sixtus\nV., was, at a still later day, united to that of Bishops. This\ncongregation, which is one of the most busy of them all, occupies\nin the church a sphere analogous to that of a council of state. It\npossesses administrative faculties. It deputes visitors apostolic\nto different provinces, appoints vicars in dioceses whose bishops\nbecome incapacitated, and sends forth religious to visit the houses\nof their several orders. It is the natural protectress of charitable\ninstitutions. It approves of the sales, exchanges, and pledges of\nthe property pertaining to churches and monasteries. It has also\ndeliberative attributes, and decides upon questions submitted to\nit by bishops, religious houses, and institutions; except such as\nmay involve the interpretation of the canons of the Council of\nTrent. It has prepared the greater part of the bulls which have\nbeen issued during the past three hundred years. In short, it\nexercises an administrative jurisdiction over, and decides disputes\nwhich arise between, different churches, bishops, chapters, orders,\nand religious, and whatever other matters of controversy directly\nconcern the clergy. Its prompt method of procedure causes even\nlay people, who voluntarily submit their cases to Rome, to prefer\nits jurisdiction. It does not adjudge according to the vigorous\nstrictness of the law, but endeavors, as far as possible, to appease\nthe parties and reconcile their disagreements. Appeals in criminal\ncases, except where the offence is within the peculiar cognizance of\nthe Holy Office, are also brought before this congregation.\n\nWe are not able to examine each of these congregations in detail.\nAll possess the same characteristics of wisdom and prudence\nwhich distinguish every institution established by the popes.\nThe Congregation of Rites was organized for the preservation of\ntraditional vestments, liturgies, and worship, and to prevent that\nincessant change which degrades state ceremonial, and often rashly\nincreases its expenses. The Congregation of Schools corresponds to\nour boards of public education; though the latter are of extremely\nrecent origin, while the former has subsisted since the age of\nSixtus V. The Congregation for the Examination of Bishops receives\ntestimonials concerning the doctrine and habits of candidates for\nthe episcopate. It fills the place of a court of inquiry, from\nwhich proceed nominations of public officers, even of the highest\nrank; where influences of every kind antagonize each other; where\ntitles are forgotten; and where the aptitude of every candidate,\nintellectual and moral, is carefully scrutinized.\n\nThese various congregations become, however, safeguards of truth and\nfreedom, not only by the variety of their faculties, but also by\ntheir internal structure and their methods of procedure. Each of them\nis composed of a cardinal-prefect, of a certain number of cardinals,\nand a secretary. To this the Congregation of the Holy Office, which\nis presided over by the pope himself, forms an exception.\n\nThe prefect is charged with the arrangement of the business of the\ncongregation. He manages the preparation of causes prior to their\ndiscussion. He submits them to the examination of his colleagues, and\npresides at their deliberations. After the debate has terminated,\nhe receives their suffrages and announces their decision. He also\nexamines into those matters which are settled at a private audience\nwith the pope, without being brought before the whole congregation,\nand his words give publicity to the decisions which he receives from\nthe living voice of the pontiff himself. Finally, he determines alone\ncertain matters of minor importance, which, on that account, are\nneither brought before the congregation nor the pope. He receives his\nappointment from the sovereign pontiff, and holds his office during\nlife. When he is absent, his place is supplied by the oldest cardinal\nof the congregation, and, at his death, the cardinal-secretary of\nstate places his signature to the nomination of the new prefect.\n\nThe secretary assists at the meetings of the congregations, and\nis charged with the duty of recording its resolutions and acts,\nof transcribing its registers, and of delivering its processes.\nHe also summons the cardinals, presents to them at each session\na brief of the causes they are to treat, and gives them, for each\nof these, a succinct statement of the principal arguments of the\nparties, with a summary of the documents pertaining to them. This\nstatement is printed upon loose sheets and distributed to the\ncardinals several days in advance, in order that each may have time\nto fully investigate the affair. Sometimes this statement is prepared\nby the cardinal-reporter, hence called the _cardinal ponent_. The\nsecretary also submits to the pope the sentences of which he is to\napprove; and, for this purpose, those of the different congregations\nhave a day of special audience before the pontiff. The faculty of\ngiving licenses for various purposes, such as reading prohibited\nbooks, etc., etc., is confided to the secretary; also the power to\ndistribute copies of the decrees of the congregation, authenticated\nby the signatures of the prefect and the secretary, and sealed with\nthe seal of the congregation, which thus become of valid force before\nall tribunals, and even elsewhere, if they treat of extra-judicial\nmatters.\n\nThe secretaries are appointed by the pope himself. They must be\nbishops, with the title of a church _in partibus infidelium_, or, at\nleast, prelates of the Roman court. In the Congregation of the Holy\nOffice the secretary is a cardinal.\n\nThe secretary has under him a number of inferior officials--a\nvice-secretary, who supplies his place when vacant; a protocol, who\ntakes care of those records in which are registered current matters\nof business, with the state of their examination; a master of rolls,\nwho preserves the various documents; and copyists, who prepare\nduplicates and exemplifications. All these are under his control, and\nfor them all he is responsible. They are chosen at a general session\nand hold office for life. They rank in the order of their seniority.\nTheir remuneration is moderate, but they enjoy it during life, even\nwhen sickness or old age prevents the fulfilment of their duties.\n\nTo these congregations, moreover, are attached a number of\ntheologians and canonists, who act as counsellors in the\ninvestigation of different questions, and assist with their advice\nthose cardinals whose place it is to determine causes. These also are\nappointed for life by the pope, and, as they are generally taken from\nthe religious orders, they are never absent or obliged to leave Rome\nwithout the permission of the congregation.\n\nThese counsellors prefer their opinions in various forms, according\nto the character of the congregation. Sometimes one of them is\nrequested to present a written solution of some especial question;\nsometimes they are all summoned to hold a united deliberation and\ngive their collective vote before the cardinals.\n\nThe parties who appear before these congregations are represented in\ntheir presence by proctors and advocates. The proctors act in the\nsame capacity as our attorneys. They are the true defenders of their\ncause by law and in fact. They compose the petitions, digest the\ninformations, and direct the whole proceedings. Their profession is\nvery honorable, but not open to every one.\n\nAdvocates are employed only in matters of higher importance, and\nseldom except in those of abstract law. They disengage, as far\nas possible, every question from the circumstances of fact which\nsurround it, and examine it doctrinally from the most elevated point\nof view. Their profession is free; but in order to exercise it one\nmust be a doctor of civil and canon law, and consequently must\nhave spent four years in study at the Sapienza, or three years at\nthe Apollinaria. They are not limited in number, and are permitted\nto appear before any of the congregations. There are also special\nadvocates belonging to the consistory, who deal only with the process\nof canonization. All of these are men well versed in theological\nlearning, canons, councils, ecclesiastical history, civil and canon\nlaw, and by their own erudition contribute vastly to the advancement\nof jurisprudence.\n\nBesides proctors and advocates, there are also solicitors who\ntake charge of various transactions and proceedings, hasten on\ninvestigations, and are employed in extra-judicial affairs.\n\nThe method of procedure before these congregations differs according\nto the congregation, the nature of the business, and even the will\nof the parties themselves. It may likewise be distinguished into\nthe ordinary, the summary, the inquisitorial, etc., etc., and is\nregulated by positive rules or by custom. They are well known to all,\nand, in practice, never give rise to any confusion.\n\nWe do not desire here to enter into details concerning these\ndifferent modes of procedure. We can only go so far as to make\nknown their general character, and to compare it with our own civil\nproceedings, which are sometimes, we think groundlessly, supposed to\nbe a model for all others.\n\nWe select, as a type of the whole, the usages of the Congregation of\nthe Council. This congregation receives appeals from the sentences\nof ordinaries, and also causes submitted to it by the consent of the\nparties; the latter being equally proper with the former, provided\nthe rules are equally observed. These causes are usually commenced\nby the sending of a summons to the opposite party through a public\nofficial, in the same manner as in civil processes. At the outset,\nhowever, a particular formality, called the settlement of the\nquestion, is observed. The object of this is to determine the precise\npoint upon which the decision of the congregation is desired. For\nthis purpose it is necessary that an issue be joined between the\nadverse parties, upon some definite proposition.... This is done\neither by the parties themselves or their proctors, in presence\nof the secretary of the congregation, and, in their default, the\nsecretary himself explains it in writing, or, when requisite, the\ncongregation is called to determine it.\n\nThis summons for the settlement of the question is served fifteen\ndays before the date of the proceeding itself. At the same time, the\noriginal and authenticated writings which the parties have employed,\nas well as a statement of the facts, signed by the proctor, must be\ndeposited at the office of the secretary. If judicial inquests and\nthe deposition of witnesses are necessary, they are taken by the\nordinary in the capacity of judge-delegate, the congregation not\nbeing able to act at a distance. The _proc\u00e8s-verbal_ authenticated\nand duly legalized, are transmitted to it; but as the causes\ngenerally come before it by appeal, all these investigations of fact\nare previously concluded, and the ordinary sends forward the entire\npapers of the case.\n\nThe defences of parties are presented in written memorials in the\nLatin tongue, signed by an advocate or by a proctor approved by the\nRoman court. These memorials are deposited with the secretary and\ncommunicated to the complainants, as are also copies of all documents\nthat are produced, in nearly the same manner as in the highest\ncivil tribunals. These memorials are in turn succeeded by written\nreplications, signed and filed in the same way. Unless by special\npermission, the memorials are limited to five printed sheets, and the\nreplications to two. In case of negligence, the proctor is liable to\na penalty. No supplementary writings are admissible.\n\nFrom these papers the secretary makes memoranda, briefly setting\nforth the whole affair and the principal arguments, the facts and\nthe law, as claimed by the parties, all of which, together with the\ndefences and replications, are printed and distributed in duplicate\nto the cardinals. These, then, receive separately the parties with\ntheir advocates and listen to their explanations, if they judge any\nto be useful to their cause. These interviews are not, however,\nsecret. Both adversaries have their audiences, and they contribute\nvery much to elucidate doubtful matters.\n\nThe day of decision is fixed by the secretary. There is never any\ndelay except for the greatest reasons. The production of the defences\nmust take place at least thirty days before that of final judgment.\nThe printed memoranda are distributed at least six days before\nit. The circulation of the papers and supplemental documents is\nfinished in the same interval. The audiences to parties are granted\nwithin the last four or five days which precede. The distribution\nof replications is made at latest the day before the session. After\nthis, no notice is taken of any testimony or document produced by one\nof the parties, unless with the consent of the other.\n\nThere are no contradictory pleadings, no public audiences. Every\nthing is done in writing. The cardinals, well instructed in the\ncause from the defences, replications, documents, memoranda of the\nsecretaries, and the previous verbal explanations of the advocates,\nassemble on the appointed day and deliberate out of the hearing of\nthe parties. This deliberation is secret, and sometimes takes place\nbetween two audiences.\n\nAfter judgment is rendered, the losing party has ten days in which to\npetition for a new trial for the revision of the sentence by the same\ncongregation. The prefect grants this petition; the new hearing takes\nplace at the end of three months; and the party who demands it, if\ndefeated, defrays the expenses.\n\nWhen sentence has been rendered, and has become of full force as a\njudgment, an exemplification of it is transmitted to the winning\nparty, who presents it at the executive office of letters-apostolic\nand of decrees of congregations, in order that it may be couched in\nthe requisite formularies.\n\nThe proceedings before the Congregation of Bishops and Regulars\nclosely resemble those before the Congregation of the Council. The\ndelays are somewhat shorter, but the ordinary procedure is the same.\nBefore both of them there is also a species of process more swift and\nsummary, to be employed when the parties desire it, or the nature of\nthe business demands it. Moreover, in the latter congregation it is\nthe secretary who renders its decision.\n\nWe have seen that appeals in criminal cases are taken from the\ndiocesan courts to the Congregation of Bishops and Regulars, except\nwhen the nature of the offence brings it within the cognizance of the\nCongregation of the Holy Office. This appeal must be entered within\nten days after the promulgation of the judgment. After the appeal is\nperfected, the diocesan court transmits to the congregation a budget\nwhich includes: 1, the process which was instituted in the first\ninstance; 2, the brief of this process and the note of that which\nfollowed; 3, the defence of the accused; 4, the sentence. At the same\ntime the court signifies to the accused and his advocate that they\nare now to prosecute their appeal.\n\nIf the appellant does not pursue the matter, a reasonable delay,\nordinarily of twenty days, is accorded, after which he is judged to\nhave renounced his appeal and the sentence is executed. If he does\npursue it, he makes choice of an advocate at Rome. The budget is then\nsent to a judge-reporter, from whose hands the advocate receives a\nmemorandum of the case, and upon that bases his defence. This defence\nis communicated to the first judge, that he may sustain his sentence.\nAll the papers are printed and distributed to the cardinals. The\ncause is examined on an appointed day in presence of the assembled\ncongregation. The judge-reporter states the case. The proctor-general\ndefends the sentence of the court below. The cardinals render\ntheir decision, which affirms, vacates, or revises the sentence of\nthe diocesan tribunal, and is immediately transmitted thereto for\nexecution. This decision is final; and, after it is rendered, the\npope alone can grant a review of the proceedings, and that only\nbefore the same congregation, and for the gravest reasons.\n\nIt will be remarked that there is no public hearing of witnesses; but\nif this should seem objectionable to any, it will be sufficient to\nremind them that civil courts, which revise the judgments of courts\nof correction, decide upon the papers of the case and not upon the\ntestimony of living witnesses at their bar; while, as for criminal\nproceedings, it is well known that from the courts which try issues\nof fact there is usually no appeal.\n\nWhen, instead of an ordinary offence, the crime alleged is one\nagainst the faith, the rules of procedure are inquisitorial in their\ncharacter, and differ somewhat from the preceding; but on account of\nthe weight of the penalty, they offer still greater safeguards to the\naccused.\n\nMoreover, it is not requisite that all the witnesses should have been\npresent during the whole transaction in question; the deposition of\na single one is admissible, though it is necessary that there be\nmore than two, and even three form but a sort of half-proof. All\ninterrogatories, skilfully directed to extort the truth from the\ndefendant or the witnesses by surprise, are strictly forbidden, as\nare also any suggestions of the answer desired, and every effort is\nmade that the truth may flow naturally from the lips of the witness\nand without the influence of fear. In order to avoid hatred and\nterrorism, the names of the witnesses are not made known to the\naccused, but their motives of hostility to him are examined with\nthe greatest care. False witnesses are punished with the utmost\nseverity, and, when it becomes necessary, the accused and accusers\nare confronted with each other.\n\nIf from poverty, or any other reason, the accused is found without an\nadvocate or proctor, one is furnished for him.\n\nFinally, the appeal is a matter of right. It is taken directly to\nRome, before the Congregation of the Holy Office, without passing\nthrough any intermediate metropolitan tribunal, and, during its\npendency there, execution is usually stayed. Judgment is never\nrendered against any one upon mere presumptions; but only after full\nand unmistakable proof.\n\nWe come now to notice the written regulations which may be called\nthe skeleton of procedure. Save some variations in detail, they\ndiffer little from those of all contested cases before the different\ncongregations. But in order fully to understand their advantages and\ndisadvantages, the reader should understand not only the text of the\nlaw but the usages of its practices. For everywhere, at Rome as at\nParis, unwritten traditions and judicial customs modify and temper\nthe law, complete its deficiencies, and cause the inconveniences\nwhich, at first sight, it would seem to occasion, wholly to\ndisappear. It is also impossible to base a serious comparison between\nthe procedure of two countries upon a mere reading of their rules.\nNot only ought the two methods to vary according to the manners of\nthe parties, the character of the tribunals, and the nature of their\ncauses, but even two modes which are identical will often, under\ndifferent circumstances, produce entirely different results. They\naccommodate themselves to the hand that wields them, and their value\ncan be really appreciated only after long usage of them; so that the\nskilled practitioner alone is able to speak authoritatively of their\nvalue, of their endurance, and of the guarantees which they offer for\nthe discovery of truth.\n\nBy these remarks we desire to show that the procedure of the Roman\ncongregations, without sacrificing any of the essential safeguards\nof justice, is generally simple, brief, economical, informal to a\ndegree beyond that of any civil procedure; and, far from needing to\nlearn any thing from them, it is able in many points to become their\ninstructor.\n\nThere is, however, one great difference upon which we especially\ninsist, because it has formed the pretext for unjust attacks from\nnarrow minds, who are unable to comprehend that any thing can be well\ndone that is done in a way different from their own, or that any\ndifference between their customs and those of others is not a signal\nmark of the inferiority of the latter. The Roman congregations admit\nof no oral pleadings.[36] All discussion is in writing, though it is\nnecessarily completed by the verbal explanations which the advocates\ngive to the judges; but there is no public and passionate debate,\nsuch as is common in all civil jurisdictions. We do not believe that\nthe absence of this is any evil. The Roman legislative body has\nalways endeavored to shun surprises in its hearings. Pleading, as it\nis practised among us, is nothing but the conflict of two opposing\ndebaters, often unequally matched, and of whom the more powerful\nis seldom on the side of the oppressed. We believe, indeed, that\nthe doors of the influential advocate, whose name and authority are\nthemselves a powerful argument, are rarely closed against the poor\nwho seek to enter them; but the poor do not always dare to stop and\nknock, and so content themselves with men of more ordinary abilities.\nIf, then, one of these contesting advocates is more skilful than the\nother; if he knows how to win favor for his client by an insinuating\nspeech and to cast ridicule upon his adversary; if he has the\nfaculty of grouping figures, of coloring facts, of flattering his\nauditors during the progress of the controversy; if he is passionate\nand violent, his emotion will affect the judge, whose heart beats\nunder his robe and is not, perhaps, to any extraordinary degree\nunimpressible; all these circumstances, extrinsic to the real merits\nof the cause, will exercise great influence upon its determination,\nand may be able to wring from the tribunal a decision which, in\nmoments of reflection and coolness, it would never render.\n\nOral pleading resembles, to some extent, those ancient judicial\ncombats upon which the issue of causes was sometimes made to depend.\nIt is a duel of words, in which justice does not always have the\nadvantage. Our imagination represents an advocate as one whose work\nit is to wrest the innocent from the clutches of powerful and cruel\npersecutors; who summons eloquence to aid him in resisting the fierce\npassions which menace the welfare of his client. This was well enough\nfor those primitive ages when a legal process was the outburst of\nviolent wrath, which dragged the alleged offender before a single\njudge, or perhaps before a mob erected into a tribunal and swayed\nby passion. But this conception is not correct for our day, even in\ncriminal matters, where the public prosecutor, as far as possible,\nexcludes mere feeling and makes his appeal to calm and solid reason\nalone; and it is especially false in civil causes, in which the\nadvocate interprets the text of the law, discusses contracts,\nexamines and compares evidence, all of which labors are difficult,\nand demand, above all things, reflection, good sense, and coolness.\n\nFor attaining, therefore, the ends of justice, a mode of written\nprocedure is particularly adapted. It assures to the contending\nparties all the time necessary for a careful reply to the reasonings\non either side, and establishes an equality between the talents of\ntheir respective advocates; it also removes the decision of the cause\nfrom the bias of personal influences, and leaves it to be determined\nby argument only. Moreover, the judge is able to reflect at his ease\nupon the merits of the case, and is secure against the seductions of\nartful declamation. Even before those supreme civil tribunals where\nwritten and oral pleadings are both permitted, the latter are usually\nregarded in the solution of the question, and this is what gives\nto the advocates of those illustrious courts their influence and\nrenown. The Roman congregations are also supreme tribunals; but there\npassion has no echo and needs no interpreter; there causes stand upon\ntheir own merits, stripped of all attendant circumstances; there the\ngravest questions of dogma, of morals, and of right are decided by\nreason alone, but by reason illuminated both by science and by faith.\n\nThe procedure of the Roman congregations is much less expensive than\nthat before ordinary civil jurisdictions. Originally it was entirely\ngratuitous, and many of the congregations--as, for instance, those\nof the Propaganda, the Index, and the Holy Office--still retain this\nrule in reference to all the causes which are submitted to them.\nBut the great increase of expense, consequent upon the increase of\ncauses, has necessitated the establishment, by other congregations,\nof certain light taxes, although even these bear small proportion to\nthe actual disbursements. Thus, all the proceedings are upon ordinary\npaper, which, not being liable to stamp-duty, makes one important\nsaving in expense. Again, while civil proceedings are registered\nupon payment of a certain fee, which is another notable method of\ntaxation, those at Rome are registered without charge; and, while\nmasters of rolls elsewhere enjoy incomes sometimes reaching the sum\nof many thousands, those at Rome are paid by the treasurer, and are\nforbidden to receive any emolument, although perfectly gratuitous,\nfrom any party, even for the most extraordinary labors--an obligation\nimposed on them by oath upon their admission to office.\n\nThey are also obliged to exhibit, without charge, to any person the\nvarious documents of their several bureaus, and are allowed but a\nmoderate recompense for the copies and exemplifications which they\nmay prepare. Even the expense of printing is borne, at least in part,\nby the congregation. The congregations do not sell justice; they\ngive it. The pontifical treasury does not look to them as a source\nof revenue. On the contrary, the taxes they collect are far less\nthan their expenses, and, in fact, so much so that their services\nmay be considered as gratuitous. For example, a matrimonial cause\nsubmitted to the Congregation of the Council, and requiring minute\nexaminations, consultations, researches, and a large collection of\ndocuments, will cost the winning party several crowns, the precise\namount depending upon the number of questions to be resolved. The\nsame case tried in civil courts would cost two or three thousand\nfrancs.\n\nThe fees of advocates and attorneys correspond to the expenses.\nAmong us they continue constantly to increase. At Rome they are very\nmeagre. They are legally fixed at a uniform rate, according to the\nimportance of the cause and the result of the investigation. Even\nthese the advocates cannot demand as a right, and receive them only\nas a spontaneous gift.\n\nThe French magistracy with good reason congratulates itself on the\nestablishment of an association designed to secure to the poor\nthe gratuitous defence of their just rights. Rome has long since\npossessed a similar institution. This is the Society of Advocates,\nwhich assembles on f\u00eate days to receive and reply to the inquiries\nof the indigent. Among the obligations of the consistorial advocates\nis that of defending the causes of the poor before their respective\ntribunals. In criminal cases there are especial advocates for the\npoor. Among the proctors there are certain ones appointed for the\npoor, one by the pope, the others by the different societies.\nFinally, the Society of St. Ives is particularly charged with the\nprotection of the indigent; and such are the customs among the\nmembers of the Roman bar that none ever refuses his services to the\nunfortunate who seeks them.\n\nThe Roman congregations are not mere tribunals instituted by the\nholy see with a delegation of powers, which leaves the supreme\nauthority still in the hands of the sovereign pontiff, and allows a\nright of appeal from their judgment to his. They are the holy see\nitself, rendering its decisions by the mouths of its cardinals. Canon\nlaw recognizes their jurisdiction as ordinary and not delegated.\nDelegated jurisdiction is a mandate which confers upon the mandatary\ncertain special favors distinct from and inferior to the powers of\nthe mandator. Ordinary jurisdiction is an actual communication, which\nunites the mandator and mandatary in one single tribunal, and makes\nthe one the simple organ of the other. Numerous passages of canon\nlaw justify this conception of these congregations and render it\nincontestable as a legal conclusion.\n\nThe nature of the decisions which they render makes the point still\nmore certain. They issue general decrees promulgated by order of the\nsovereign pontiff, which consequently obtain the force of law in all\nplaces in the same manner as the pontifical constitutions, from which\nthey do not essentially differ. Such are the decrees of the Holy\nOffice, of the Index, and certain of those of the Congregation of\nRites, of that of the Council, and of that of Bishops and Regulars.\nThey also render interpretations of existing laws, and these enjoy\na supreme and universal authority, as if they emanated directly\nfrom the sovereign pontiff, since they are both submitted to and\napproved by him. In fine, the sentences which they render in private\ncontroversies are, equally with the rest, submitted to the pope;\nthough without this sanction, and from the ordinary powers of the\ncongregations, they would be obligatory upon all, and would become\nthe rule of other tribunals, since for this purpose especially were\nthese congregations instituted as courts of final judicature.\n\nThe decisions rendered by these different congregations, and\npreserved in their archives from the very day of their institution to\nthe present, form the most magnificent body of jurisprudence which\nhas ever existed. One canonist of eminence reckons that upward of\nsixty thousand decisions have been delivered by the Congregation of\nthe Council alone; a living, practical commentary on the Council of\nTrent. The Congregation of Bishops and Regulars publishes nearly\nthree volumes of decrees every year, and the volumes which contain\nits judgments are over eight hundred in number. When we remember that\nnearly all these decisions are upon questions of law, disengaged from\nmere accessories of fact, we are amazed at the treasures of science,\nerudition, and reasoning which are thus accumulating from age to age\nin these archives, and forming an inexhaustible reservoir, in which\ntradition stores itself and whence justice and truth flow out upon\nthe world.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[35] We take pleasure in laying before our readers, at this time,\nthe accompanying translation from a recent number of one of the\nleading magazines of France. The eyes of the people of this country,\nand especially of our great cities, are being slowly opened to\nthe necessity of some reform in the methods of judicial business.\nThe delay and expense of legal proceedings--above all, the great\nuncertainty of their result, is becoming daily a matter of more and\nmore serious consideration. In casting about the world for light upon\nthis vexed and intricate subject, the mind of the reformer cannot\nfail to be guided to the mother and mistress of all nations, in whose\nbosom is garnered the experience of twenty-five centuries, and whose\ninstitutions are the development of that wisdom and sagacity which\nmade pagan Rome the queen of the world, and has given to Christian\nRome a sceptre whose sway is mightier and more extensive than that of\nthe sword.\n\nWe feel confident, therefore, that in presenting this article on\n_The Roman Congregations_ to the American public, and particularly\nto the legal profession, we are directing attention to what must, in\na greater or less degree, be the model of all permanent and reliable\ncivil tribunals. As applicable to the exigencies which press us most\nseverely at the moment, we call attention to the following features\nof these congregations as worthy of particular investigation:\n\n1. The life-tenure of judges and other officials, with the permanent\nprovision made for their support in case of disability.\n\n2. The reduction of all pleadings to a simple, definite issue,\nexpressing in untechnical language the precise points of law or fact\nwhich are in controversy.\n\n3. The reduction of all testimony to the form of depositions, thereby\nsecuring the sworn evidence without the mistakes and prejudices\nalmost inseparable from the oral examination of witnesses in court.\n\n4. The reduction of all arguments to writing, procedure eminently\nproductive of accuracy, brevity, and completeness; three qualities\nwhich, however desirable, are rarely found in the oral arguments of\ncounsel.\n\n5. The submission of all questions to a body of trained and practised\njudges, not so liable to be swayed by passion, interest, and\nprejudice as a jury, or unaided by the counsel and assistance of\nothers, like a single judge, but bringing to the solution of every\nissue a multitude of counsellors, among whom, if anywhere on earth,\nis impartiality and wisdom.\n\nWe commend these features of Roman jurisprudence to those whose\ninterest and duty lead them to consider seriously the question of\nlegal reform, remarking for ourselves that the rapid and accurate\nenforcement of legal rights and redress of legal wrongs is the\nhighest mark of temporal civilization, and that no country can expect\nprosperity and renown unless the judicial ermine is kept free from\nstain, and unless all men, rich or poor, have both equal rights and\nequal means of protecting them before the law.--ED. CATH. WORLD.\n\n[36] We use this term in its common, not its legal acceptation. It\ntechnically refers only to those mutual allegations and denials of\nthe parties which end in the issue, either of law or fact, upon which\nthe courts are to decide. Here we employ it to denote the spoken\narguments of counsel.\n\n\n\n\nAN OCTOBER REVERIE.\n\n\nThis most golden of all the bright October days, why are we not, as\nwe fain would be, on a brown hill-side, yielding care to whispered\npersuasions of the wind, or afloat on waters that reflected our sky,\nwhen--if it was not always without clouds--its clouds were tinged\nwith glory, or lying upon a shore where we built sand castles in\nplay--alas! for castles we built in earnest, to hold treasures of\nhope--and laughed to see them dissolve in the laughing waves.\n\nWe have no wish to pluck the hill-side flowers; we shall never build\ncastles again, never chase back the encroaching waves, which, while\nthey seemed to recede, rose till they buried our castles and swept\naway our treasures.\n\nBut it will be something to share the repose of nature; to lie on her\nlap lulled by the requiem of the past, chanted by the voice that sang\nthe anthem of the future. For we--her deluded children--are weary,\nand only ask of her a foretaste of the rest we hope to find by and by\nin her bosom.\n\nHow weary we are! Of strivings from which we have no power to cease!\nOf reachings, from which we cannot withhold our hands, toward objects\nthat elude us or turn worthless in our grasp! Weary of our own\nand others' weakness and meanness! Of lying lives; of suspicions,\nenvyings, and covetings! How tired of homely work; oppressed by\nnarrow rooms, vexed by noises of neighbors separated from us only\nby the legal number of inches in brick and mortar--a loud-talking,\nstamping family on one side, and on the other the household of Widow\nSmith, who keeps boarders and a piano!\n\nBy sounds that come up through the open window, I know that the\nwidow is in her kitchen helping to get the dinner. I seem to see\nher, hot and worried. She is always worried. Her face would be a sad\none if she had time to let it settle into its proper expression. As\nshe never has time, it is anxious and fretful, and older than her\nyears. In the parlor, so near that the jangling of untuned wires\nsets my whole being on edge, her daughter is playing the piano as\nshe sings, _I dreamt that I dwelt in Marble Halls_. Poor child! Yet\ndream on. Who could undeceive thee, knowing that there is woven into\nthy dream the pious resolve to win out of that discordant instrument\nmoney wherewith to buy thy mother ease? Heaven help thee and bring\nto naught the spite of the bachelor boarder in the room above, who,\ninstead of employing his grizzly brain with the plan gossips have\ndevised, by which he might brighten her life and thine, and his own\nmost of all, paces up and down, cursing the noise, and consigning\n\"that old tin pan\" to a place his imagination keeps in a blaze with\nfuel of whatsoever offends him. He hates \"that eternal thrumming,\"\nhates \"genteel daughters of working mothers. Teach music! Better\ndismiss Nora and make Miss Julia help in the kitchen!\"\n\nIt might be as well, but it is no affair of his.\n\nMoreover, the mother has her dream. In it she sees her daughter less\nhard-worked than she has been, and higher in the social scale than\nshe ever hopes to rise; except, perhaps, when that daughter shall\nhave exchanged Smith for Smythe.\n\nBut of all the vexations of our life here, the most persistent is\nthe row of houses across the way. Beset by so many things that\noffend the other senses, we think it hard that our sight should be\nso meanly thwarted. I grow angry whenever I look out, and wish that\nI could push those houses down. I pine to see beyond them the curve\nof a bay bounded by hills, a stretch of river with steamboats and\nsails, and of shore with a village and farms on its slope, distant\nmountains blending with sky, or outlined against piled thunder-caps.\nOr a harbor with ships; some at anchor, some bound outward, and some\ncoming in from strange countries.\n\nI keep fancying that the houses hide these sights, though I know\nthere is nothing behind them but row on row, more brown, stony, and\ndull. These are low, and shut out less of the sky. The veneering,\nwhich is of plaster instead of stone, is falling off, here and there,\nto save it from monotony. The uniform dwellings, with their line\nof connecting porches, remind one of the inside of a fort, and of\ncareless, gossiping, uncertain sojourn in quarters.\n\nWidow Smith does not mind the wall that offends us. She told me her\nstory the other day; all she had gone through. What grieves her most,\nas nearly as I could make it out, is living in a house that is not\nhigh. \"For,\" said she, as with a little tearful burst of eloquence\nshe ended her tale, \"I hev lived in a three-story and basement, all\nto ourselves, and always kept a girl, and the folks next door didn't\nlet out ther floors. Though,\" (wiping her eyes,) \"I've nothin' aginst\nthem Browns. They behave themselves as well as some\" (Mrs. Green,\nover the way, who keeps two servants, and does not visit Mrs. Smith\nand me) \"thet's hed more advantages.\"\n\nI answered, \"These houses might do while rents are so high, if the\npartitions were thicker, and if that row opposite did not hide the\nview;\" meaning the view in my mind. Mrs. Smith could not have seen\nit; for she replied that \"We mustn't be notional; real troubles come\nfast enough without borrowin'. Since Smith died,\" she had \"hed her\nshare, the Lord knew.\" If she \"let sech things\" make her \"mis'rable,\"\nshe should think that she was \"goin' contrary to Scripter, wich\nspeaks aginst the sight of the eyes.\" Then, \"of all things, a place\nnot built up was the forlornist.\" Besides, she liked \"neighbors.\"\nGood soul! so she does; loves them, too. I have known her to do \"them\nBrowns\" more than one kind turn; and to us, when we came, poor,\ndiscouraged, and unused to city ways, she was guide, philosopher, and\nguardian angel, in the guise of a lugubrious little woman in a rusty\nmourning gown and yarn hood. She taught us to market, urged upon us\nthe importance of asking the price before buying, and of counting\nour change afterward; encouraged us to resist the aggressions of\n\"the girl,\" enlightening us at the same time as to the amount of\nservice we might require of that personage; stood up for us with the\nmilk-man, ice-man, and man that peddles every thing, and made them\ngive us weight and measure.\n\nBut notwithstanding that Mrs. Smith is so sympathizing, it would not\nhave been worth while to return her confidence by telling her of our\nformer affairs--pleasant places where our lot was cast; the old house\nbeautiful we were born in; the hills, and and the river that bathes\ntheir feet; purple ridges that lie eastward, blue mountains that\nhide the west--scenes so changeless in form that memory does not err\nin always showing them the same; so changeful in aspect that they\nnever wearied even our accustomed eyes.\n\nWe cannot talk of these things to one whose world is the city. Yet\nthere are in that world many who will understand us--living in high\nhouses and low ones; on floors, in garrets and dens; walking in\nrich attire, shrinking in garments worn and unseemly; mingling with\nothers in the mart, lying on sick-beds, shut up in prisons--men for\nwhom fame blows glorious bubbles, but hollow and frail, as none know\nbetter than themselves.\n\nDevotees of science whose Eurekas sound more faintly at every step\nas they mount her endless ladders; not because they fall from such\naltitudes, but because they become discouraged as the conviction\ndawns on them that all they have gained amounts to little.\n\nThe trader whose vessels dot the seas, who is not so elate with\nfortune that he never sends a sigh after earlier ventures--ships of\nbark with freight of sand, on waters the width of a boy's stride.\n\nThe gambler in the bread of the poor, not so callous that he never\nfeels a twinge of the old wound, the stab conscience gave the first\ntime he played \"pitch and toss\" on the blind side of the school-house\nand won foolish Richard's penny. He remembers that Richard went\ncrying to his father for redress, and his mother came and told the\nmaster, who would not believe foolish Richard's story against \"the\nsmartest boy and the best at cypherin' in his school.\" He escaped,\nbut Richard was whipped by his father for losing his money and\ntelling a lie. He distrusts conscience. Why smite so then, why touch\nso lightly now, if she can find the difference between that childish\nsin and this wringing hard-earned pence from thousands of simple ones?\n\nAnd the Father to whom the wretches clamor so does not seem to be a\ncredulous father to them. Perhaps, after all, he does not hear; or\nis, like the master, on the side of those who can help themselves.\nAt any rate, his mills grind so slowly that it would hardly pay to\ncompute the time one's turn would take to come. It may be that the\nwheels stand still, waiting for all his floods to gather.\n\nThe politician, not so lost in tortuous ways that the man depicted\nin his first piece to speak, (it was chosen by his good mother, and\noften said over to her for fear of \"missing\" on the momentous Friday,)\n\n    \"The man whose utmost skill was simple truth;\n      Whose life was free from servile bands\n      Of hope to rise or fear to fall,\"\n\ndoes not still stand on the old pedestal in his secret heart.\n\nAbsent-eyed women, automatic figures in collections of cabinet-work,\nupholstery, pictures, and marbles, to which no memories of theirs\nhave grown, lending attention to formal visitors while their\nthoughts stray to the play-house under a tree, where they used to\nreceive little friends in calico sun-bonnets. The house of which\nthey themselves laid the moss carpet and chose and placed the\nornaments, deserted bird's-nests filled with speckled Solomon's\nSeal, curiosities from the wood, and pretty stones from the brook.\nFor paintings, they had green vistas and glimpses of village, water,\nand sky. The service, of acorn cups and bits of colored glass and\n\"chaney,\" was daily polished and set out by their own hands on the\nflat rock they \"made believe\" was a table.\n\nWomen shawled with fabric of Cashmere, borne above the envious\nstreet, but heeding neither its shifting crowd nor its shows. They\nare thinking of chances enjoyed the more for their unexpectedness,\nand paid in \"kerchies\" and \"thank'ee, sirs\" they used to \"catch,\"\nwhen they went to the district school wrapped in homespun shoulder\nblankets that took caressing softness from fingers--cold alas!\nnow--that pinned them on. Of balmy, luxurious rides on the heaped\nhay-rigging. Slow, never to be forgotten cart rides in back-woods,\nwhere wintergreen and princess-pine send up aromatic odors from\nbeneath the oxen's feet; with wheels now sinking in moss, now\ncraunching the pebbles of the stream, now swept by ferns, and anon\npressing down saplings that, released, spring back with a jerk and an\nimpatient protest of leaves. Onward, through sun-glorified arcades,\nlistening to comments of birds that are all about, though each one\nseems solitary, startled by the beat of a partridge, or catching a\nsight of her nest. Bending low to escape unbending arms of patriarchs\nof the wood that fend the way. Peering anxiously into the gathering\nnight; coming out upon the clearing, where skeletons of forest trees,\nmartyrs to progress, that perished by her axe or her flames, lie\ndimly outlined amid shadows, or stand gaunt against the sky, with\ncharred arms outstretched in motionless appeal.\n\nOr of rides in the lumber-wagon, when grandfather--whom we cannot\ndescribe from lack of words sufficiently expressive of venerableness\nand benignity--held the \"lines,\" and \"Tom and Jerry,\" in sympathy\nwith childish impatience and delight, sped up hill and down,\ntill, amid clatter and rattle, and excited barkings, and joyful\nexclamations, and a peremptory \"whoa!\" and \"stand there, you Jerry!\"\n(Jerry never would stand there, nor anywhere, he was such a horse to\ngo,) followed by a volley of juvenile \"whoas!\" and \"stand, Jerrys,\"\nthe wagon drew up before the house, and a young aunt ran to lift the\nchildren out, while grandmother stood in the door beaming on them a\nsmile whereof the warmth has passed down through the folds of years,\nand glows still on hearts from which time has shut out the light of\nardent fires.\n\nDid I say that crowd and shows were unheeded? That elegant leader\nand lawgiver of society, Mrs. Augustus Jonesnob, who glides along in\nan emblazed carriage, behind those splendid ponies, would not pass,\nif she knew that she and her \"turnout\" elicited only a vague, half\npitying recollection of a \"they say\" that gives her the keeper of a\njunk-shop for grandfather, making it likely that she has no heirloom\nof tapestry, in fadeless azure, and green, and gold, wherewith to\nhang the halls she always dreamed of, without dreaming how bare she\nwould find them.\n\nYoung Augustus--\"Point-Lace Jonesnob,\" the girls call him--rides\nbeside his mother's carriage, well-dressed, well-mounted, smiling\ncomplacently, for he knows that he looks about the thing; and the day\nbeing neither too cold nor too warm, nor muddy, dusty, windy, nor\ntoo early in the season, he thinks it will do to show himself. Does\nany one suppose his smile to be the emanation from some reminiscence\nof \"taking the horses to water\" in boyhood? The riding-master's\nhand, and not the proud father's, held him on the first time he was\nmounted. He has no breezy remembrances of free gallops whither he\nwould; no pensive memories of solemn rides across lonesome barrens,\nwhere heavenward-pointing pines worship God with ceaseless harmonies\nand unfailing incense.\n\nMen whose life, sold for a salary, is the property of others; who\nspend the hours they ought to have for recreation in street-cars,\nwhile ill-used brutes drag them from and to homes in comfortless\nsuburbs, where faded wives, worn with housework that never ends,\nbusy over piles of mending that never diminish, wait, uncheerfully\nruminating devices and economies by which they are for ever trying to\nmake ends approach that are fated never to meet.\n\nBroken-spirited gentlemen in threadbare black, worn and brushed till\nthe seams, notwithstanding the times they have been inked, are gray,\nwalking, walking, in search of employment; asking it deprecatingly,\nfor they are honorable, and are beginning to realize--others have\nlong seen it--their incapacity. Returning faint--the bite at the\nbaker's counter is beyond their means--to pale wives, who meet\nthem with smiles that are more sad than tears, and talk, while\ntheir hearts belie their tongues, of better luck to-morrow. Perhaps\nchildren, too, with eyes that ask--they are too well trained by their\nmother to demand with their lips.\n\nWomen that have seen better days, paying their last dollar--it will\nbring no return--for the ambiguous announcement that makes known\ntheir willingness to accept any position not menial.\n\nElderly women, delicately bred, once sheltered and inclosed by\nrefined prejudices and conventionalisms, obliged, who knows by what\nstress, to step out of the sacred (to them; they are old-fashioned\nladies) retirement of home. If we must refuse to buy the petty\nstationery, print, or book they so courteously proffer, let it be\nseen that we do it with pain; let us not shut the door against these\ntimid sparrows till they have flitted from the steps. They are not of\nthose to whom compassionate hesitation suggests importunity.\n\nWomen narrow-chested and grim-visaged, in whom there is no beauty or\ncharm left--pupils of virtue, to whom she gives neither holiday nor\nreward--toiling up steep flights with bundles of shop-work.\n\nBedraggled women, that lug heavy baskets down wet area steps into\nsunless abodes, where they wash all day, while the babes they have\nnot time to fondle want care and comforting, and must want these or\nbread.\n\nSinful women, at whom, since Christ is dead in the souls of men,\nall may cast stones. For them there is but little help or hope in a\nrighteous world.\n\nThose who, by hallowed memories of purer scenes, have been kept from\nevil.\n\nThose who, though fallen and fouled, still guard, fair and apart,\npictures that fill their eyes with tears and their hearts with\nyearnings--visions of morning stepping down the cliffs into valleys\nwhere they dwelt; of sunsets in mountain countries; tropical lands\nplanted with palms that incline exile-ward; snowy regions where\nblazing hearths and true hearts keep the place of the wanderer warm.\n\nHome dwells pictured in their soul. It is an unpainted road-side\nhouse. Sweet-pinks, marigolds, and holly-hocks grow in the\nfront-yard; morning-glories creep up the clap-boards, festoon\nthe windows, and peep into the wren's nest under the eve-trough.\nIn the maple by the doorstep a pair of robins have made their\nhabitation, and amid the green of the elm that roofs the spring and\nwash-block--the stump of a former mighty tree--is seen the glint of a\nfire-bird's wing.\n\nOr a farm-house, with gardens and rows of hives, and barns with\ntheir swallows, fields of corn and stubble, and upland pasture\nwhere cattle are feeding. In \"the new piece,\" between the pasture\nand higher woodland, buckwheat blossoms for the bees, as it climbs\nperseveringly up the ridge to overtake the poke, that, bending to\nits weight of berries, mingles dawning crimson with changing hues of\nblackberry-vines which hide the rocks. Along stone fences, golden-rod\nand wild-aster still mingle their blooms untouched, though autumn\nhas reached stained fingers forth to trifle with the leaves of his\nfavorite sumach. In the swamp below, the scarlet lobelia burns amid\nclumps of green and brown sedge. Beyond the swamp and meadow, and\nwind-whitened willows by the creek, hills rise and bound the view.\n\nOr it is a homestead, with venerable trees shading a lawn that slopes\nto a lake in which house and trees lie mirrored. They are playing\nwith their brothers on the lawn, while their mother watches them\nfrom her window; or gliding on the lake with companions and loves of\nyouth, steering their boat for a distant headland.\n\nThese are living pictures. Their woods sing Eolian measures; their\nbrooks talk of childhood and innocence; their clouds and seasons are\nalways changing; their swallows ever flying homeward, whither the\ntrees beckon. Miraculous pictures! their sun always shines on our\nbrides; their skies rain constant tears on our dead. Yea, in them the\ndead are risen, and eyes long sealed look down on us with love.\n\nBut beyond the headland the lake has its outlet into a stream that\nwinds and tarries, all the while widening, till it empties into the\nharbor, where ships, laden with costly merchandise, are spreading\nsails for havens of uncertain promise. They fade along the fading\ncoast; glide across the dim belt that separates land's end from sky;\nlike phantoms disappear. And watchers turn, with a foreboding chill,\nfrom windy piers, to confront dirty waterside stores, and pick their\nway amid trucks and bales that obstruct broken side-walks, between\ntall warehouses that glower at each other across lanes, to meet\nodors of fish and oils, and spices and drugs, and countless other\nfoetid smells; to enter dull, ledger-lined offices, or seek, through\njostling ways, ticketed dwellings that are as alike as prison-cells.\n\nAlong the track that divides the farm, and cuts the hill in two,\nshrieks a train, grudging its passengers the glimpse of beautiful\nplaces of the rich; slackening its pace to prolong the dreariness of\nthe ugly outskirts, and, lo! dead rows of houses; long thoroughfares;\nmean streets, with vile shops and squalid swarms; the clash of\nvehicles; confusion of cries; rush of multitudes--the city.\n\nFrom the small house the by-road leads to a turnpike that speeds\ndustily on to a cobble-paved town by the river. The river flows down\nto the city; where all night long, hungrily lapping slimy piers,\nwith dark hints of oblivion, with winks and gleams that the wretched\ninterpret, with noiseless, snaky undulations, and the fascinating\nglitter of its thousand eyes, it charms the lost to loathsome death.\n\nWould we, if cares did not bind us, go back to the scenes of those\npictures? If our mother's face had not gone from the window? If the\nfarm had not been sold? If alien hands had not cut down the maple and\nthe elm, and strange faces and the burr of unknown voices had not\nscared the wrens from their nest? If we had money or time for the\njourney? If we did not feel too much ashamed or disgraced--we have\nbeen so unsuccessful, or false to early promises--to meet the pitying\nor contemptuous looks of our acquaintance? For did they not know how\nit would be? Did not they too, in youth, scent from afar the battle\nthey knew better than to enter without the certainty of winning?\n\nIf we have, or seem to have won it, is there not something in\nourselves that holds us back? We have now no desire for sports of\nchildhood. We are not sorry that our mother faded from her window\nbefore we got hurts that her kisses could not make well. The halo\nthat surrounds venerated figures would pale in the broad light of\nmid-life. We are not so forbearing with the old who are with us that\nwe could trust ourselves to have the departed back.\n\nDo we recognize the boys and girls who lived in the small house by\nthe road, who used to get up early and run laughing to the spring\nto take turns washing in the tin basin that hung against the elm?\nAnd the faces mirrors now show us--are they the same that rose\nradiant from that bath? Could we sleep soundly in a garret, and wake\ndelighted to see snow sifting through the roof? Or relish the food\nwe thought it neither shame nor labor to carry when, bare-footed in\nsummer and shod in calf-skin in winter, we walked a mile to the red\nschool-house down by the 'pike? Would we feel honored if the madam\nwere now to visit us in the modest dress that we once thought the\nperfection of taste?\n\nWhen it was our week to conduct her home, we neither hunted\nbird's-nests, nor swung upon low branches of the \"mill-pines,\"\nnor dipped our feet in mud-puddles to get \"wedding-shoes\" on, nor\nsought berries along the fences, unless it was to string them on\ntimothy-rods and present them shyly for her acceptance.\n\nHave we strength or inclination for harvest work? Then to leaden\nhearts and sluggish blood what pleasure in moonlight sail, or\nmidnight sleigh-ride, or mad gallop over lift and level!\n\nLet us guard our sacred pictures. To their scenes we will not return.\nFor if, instead of patches of sky, the circle of the firmament were\nours, with changing glory of dawn, and noon, and sundown, and deeps\ngleaming with stars, yet our spirits would not soar with their\nswallows. Their mountains would not draw our feet as they did when we\nbelieved that every summit reached was a height gained, knew not that\nthe peaks which pierced the clouds hid higher ranges, yet no nearer\nthe heaven of hope than those which limited our sight.\n\nIs there no spot, dear friend, that you and I would revisit?\n\nBehold a worn foot-path in which we may walk and gather immortelles!\nIt leads to a city whereof the houses are low and hide none of the\nsky; narrower than these, but straitness does not inconvenience\ndwellers who have no call to go to and fro; not uniform--the\noccupants' names are cut into fronts of marble and granite and mossy\nred sand-stone. Some are marked by columns, others by crosses. Around\nmany plants are set. But here are others. The tenants were poor or\nfriendless folk, or strangers; they have only clay walls and roofs\nof sod, upon which every blade, green or sere, all day long and all\nnight, bending lightly to airs of summer or swept low by winter\nwinds, keeps sighing, \"May he rest in peace.\"\n\nOld neighbors are here; but no looks of theirs question us as to\nwhat we have done in the world, or in what failed.\n\nDid the sight of these at last turn inward? and did lips that were so\nready with the Pharisee's prayer close with the cry of the publican?\n\nOld friends! But their hands are cold and will never clasp ours\nagain. Enemies! Between them and us may judgment be the offspring of\nChristian kindness!\n\nAnd here, hedged with arbor-vit\u00e6, is the place of our kin. Those of\nthem who passed hither before our time we could never realize. Others\nare dim remembrances; like the baby sister that came one wild winter\nnight, to our great wonder, and, to our equal sorrow, left us in\nspring for this small habitation.\n\nThese were not long separated. Dear old folks! one roof and one\ntablet for two who had but one mind and one heart. Here lies the\nlittle cousin we quarrelled with at evening, to shed over her in the\nmorning our first remorseful tears. Look through the break in the\nhedge, on that square slab--\n\n    EVELYN GRANT.\n      Aged 35.\n\nOur first school-mistress. We hated her with the impotent bitterness\nof childish hearts outraged. For did she not show partiality to the\ndullest scholar she had?--because his father was rich, the big boys\nsaid; and thus we repeated it to our fond if not judicious friend,\nold Diana, when we complained to her of Miss Evelyn's injustice in\nsending Alf Whitfield up head every Monday.\n\n\"He is the oldest,\" she would say. \"As if oldness is any reason why a\ngreat fellow like that should have a better chance than the rest,\" we\nwould think. If we had understood how much of Miss Evelyn's support\ndepended upon the favor of rich Squire Whitfield, we might have felt\ndifferently. They say that Alf's mother used to beg of the mistress\nto encourage and make much of the bashful half-wit, who often wept\nbecause he could not learn like the others.\n\nWe will pull the old weeds from her grave. They shall not choke\nflowers planted by the orphan nephews she worked so hard to bring\nup respectably--worked without a complaint long after the cough we\nmocked behind our primers had hacked into her vitals.\n\nLet us follow this road, beyond the pines--a little higher--here. The\nspot we have thought and dreamed about but never before seen.\n\nIf any one should ask why we came, hardly pausing, by so many mounds\nof soldiers who died in the same cause, as may be read on their\ntablets, we would answer that, with the soul of this one, all glory\nfor us passed out of our marvellous sunsets, warmth from the color\nof our autumns, charm from our ice-bound winters, sweetness from the\nbreath of our springs.\n\nDown there, bordering this field consecrated to Catholic dead, is the\n\"colored folks' ground.\"\n\nHow tidy it looks. Formerly it was a huddle of neglected hillocks;\nmany of them sunken as if they who, deprecating scorn, had crept\nthrough the world in the shadow of the wall, shrank even here from\nobtruding.\n\nHow many of us Catholics, of the thousands that crowd that church of\nwhich we see the cross above the hill-top, or lie here with hands\ncrossed to God, ever offered a prayer for those neglected souls,\nliving or dead?\n\nBefore that church was built there came from the West Indies,\nfollowing the fortunes of an exiled family, a gray-haired negro. He\ndid not persevere in hearing Mass because the children insulted\nhim on the street--waited for him with stones in their hands at the\ncorners of the church. He died, and, to fulfil his last wish, some of\nhis people planted a cross upon his unsodded grave.\n\nI used to know every mound, from that Egyptian-faced vault,\n\n    \"Against whose portal I had thrown,\n    In childhood, many an echoing stone;\n    And shrank to think, poor heart of sin,\n    It was the dead that groaned within;\"\n\nto the cheerful nook where the nurseryman's children sleep under\ntheir coverlet of flowers. From the hero's pillar by the highway,\nwith the record,\n\n    \"He lived as mothers wish their sons to live,\n    He died as fathers wish their sons to die,\"\n\nto the monument of the beloved woman whose husband and daughters came\nevery year from distant homes to add a tribute of plants and garlands\nto the granite offering they had raised to her memory.\n\nHere, broken and half buried, is the old slab with death's-head and\nbones, and the verse exhorting all Christians to pray for the soul of\nPeter Curran.\n\nUnder this willow--she that planted it, in the belief that it would\nshade her rest, lies far away--our patriarch is buried: a father\nto orphans; to the poor a brother. That memorial in the stranger's\nground--the only one--he caused to be placed above the remains of\nthe decayed gentleman he entertained so many years and laid to rest\nat his own cost. Another, to whom he gave shelter, lies beside \"the\nchevalier.\" The droll Swede, the whaleman, is buried behind them\nboth. In our village foreigners were not looked upon with favor in\nthose ante-emigration times; and this one was so blundering that no\none would give him work after his honesty was proved. They were going\nto send him to jail as a vagrant, when Uncle Allan made up his mind\nthat he needed just such a man for odd jobs. Bastian never learned\nenough English to thank him, but the tears that wet his parchment\ncheeks the day they brought his benefactor here were expressive.\n\nFigures homely yet gracious, how they rise in memory!\n\nSome fell asleep in hope; others drew back in doubt, or struggled\nwith doom. Some, having done their best, lay down, offering it and\nthat wherein they had failed to God, beside others who had nothing to\noffer but remorse.\n\nAll these yet speak to us, with more significance on this October\nafternoon in the October of our life than they did in past autumns;\nwhile to every one, according to his need, they teach a lesson.\n\nThey say to the covetous, \"Not one of your things shall pass through\nthe gate of this city.\"\n\nTo the envious, \"Behold the state of him you wished to change places\nwith yesterday.\"\n\nThey promise those who are kept awake by care \"a blessed sleep.\"\n\nThey speak of rest to the world-weary; to the good, of beatitude; to\nthe bad, of judgment; to all, of the end that is hastening on swift\nwings.\n\n\n\n\nFREE RELIGION.[37]\n\n\nThis Free Religious Association appears to be composed of men and\nwomen who, some thirty years ago, were, or would have been, called\n_come-outers_ in Boston and its vicinity, but who are now generally\ncalled radicals, a name which they seem quite willing to accept. They\nare universal agitators, and see or imagine grievances everywhere,\nand make it a point wherever they see or can invent a grievance, to\nhit it; at least, to strike at it. They were conspicuous in the late\nabolition movement, are strenuous advocates for negro equality--or,\nrather, negro superiority--stanch women's rights men, in a word,\nreformers in general. They claim to have a pure and universal\nreligion; and though some of them are downright atheists, they\nprofess to be more Christian than Christianity itself, and their aim\nwould seem to be to get rid of all special religion, so as to have\nonly religion in general. They say, in the first article of their\nconstitution:\n\n     \"This association shall be called the Free Religious\n     Association--its objects being to promote the interests of\n     pure religion, to encourage the scientific study of theology,\n     and to increase fellowship in the spirit; and to this end all\n     persons interested in these objects are cordially invited to its\n     membership.\"\n\nNothing can be fairer or broader, so far as words go. Ordinary\nmortals, however, may be puzzled to make out what this religion\nin general, and no religion in particular, really is; and also to\nunderstand how there can be pure religion and scientific theology\nwithout God. Our radical friends are not puzzled at all. They have\nonly to call man God, and the scientific study of the physiological\nand psychological laws of human nature the scientific study of\ntheology, and every difficulty vanishes. Whoever believes in himself\nbelieves in God, and whoever can stand poised on himself has in\nhimself the very essence of religion. According to them, the great\nerror of the past has been in supposing that religion consists in\nthe recognition, the love, and the service of a superior power; but\nthe merit of free religion is, that it emancipates mankind from\nthis mother error, discards the notion that they owe obedience to\nany power above humanity, and teaches that man is subject only to\nhimself. Hence the Emersonian maxim, Obey thyself, which, translated\ninto plain English, is, Live as thou listest.\n\nThe aim of the association, the president--whom we remember as a\nhandsome, fair-complexioned, bright-eyed school-boy--tells us in his\nopening address is Unity. He says:\n\n     \"Our aim, let it be understood, is _unity_; not division, discord,\n     conflict--but unity. We are not controversialists. We carry no\n     sword in our hands. We wear no weapons concealed about our person.\n     Our one word is peace--the word which is always most heartily\n     responded to by earnest men. Religion means unity; the very\n     definition of it signifies the power that binds men together;\n     that binds all souls to the divine. The communion of saints--that\n     is the religious phrase; and yet you will pardon me if I say\n     that religion at present is the one word that means division. As\n     interpreted by the religious world, it means war and discord.\n     Subjects are debated on other platforms--social questions,\n     political questions; they are debated and dismissed. In the\n     religious world the discussion goes on more persistently, more\n     bitterly than on any other field; but the issues are always the\n     same, the venue is never changed, conclusions are never reached,\n     and we lack the benefit that comes from the reconciliation of\n     perpetual discussion.\n\n     \"Religion as organized is organized division. The communion is a\n     communion-table, the Christ is a symbol of the sects, the unity is\n     a unity made up of separate departments and families. The ancient\n     religions of the world still hold their own. Buddhism, Brahminism,\n     the religion of Zoroaster, the religion of Confucius, Judaism,\n     fetichism, Sabaism--all stand where they did. All gather in their\n     population; all have their organized activities, as they ever\n     had. No one of them has materially changed its front; not one of\n     them has been disorganized; not one of them has retreated from\n     the ground that from time immemorial it has occupied. They have\n     stormed at each other, they have been mortal enemies; but still\n     they stand where they stood. There is no superstition, however\n     degrading, that does not exist to-day; and Christian missionaries,\n     Catholic and Protestant, have gone out with hearts of flame and\n     tongues of fire, and souls that were all one solid single piece of\n     consecration, and have dashed themselves in hosts with the utmost\n     heroism against those ancient lines of faith; and their weapons\n     have dropped harmless at the foot. Here and there a few hundred,\n     or a few thousand, or a few tens or hundreds of thousands, may\n     have shifted from one faith to the other; but the solid substance\n     of these great religions still endures. The vast aggregates of\n     millions and tens of millions are unaffected. Christianity holds\n     its own, and no more. Buddhism and Brahminism hold their own, and\n     as much. What shall we say to this? Does religion mean unity?\n     The world cannot be all of one form of religion. Religion is\n     deeper than all its several forms. One religion cannot dislodge\n     another; one faith cannot supplant another faith. Put Christianity\n     in the place of Brahminism and Buddhism, and people would not\n     be Christians. They might change their name--they would not\n     change their nature. The inhabitants of countries that have been\n     under the sway of those great faiths do not become Christian\n     men by becoming Christian peoples. The Turks in European Turkey\n     are better men than the Greek Christians in European Turkey.\n     The religions, as such, must hold their places essentially\n     undisturbed. Harmony is not possible at present on that ground--on\n     any sectarian ground.\n\n     \"Christianity itself is a bundle of religions. There is the vast\n     Greek Church, with its patriarchs; there is the enormous Catholic\n     Church, with its pope; here are all the families of the Protestant\n     Church, with their clergy. They hold the same relative position.\n     Protestantism does not subdue Romanism; Romanism will never\n     subdue Protestantism. The Protestant Church and Roman Church have\n     stood face to face for centuries; and thus they will continue to\n     stand, as long as the populations have the genius that God gave\n     them. What is Christendom but an army divided against itself?\n     What is Protestantism but a mingling of warring sects?--each\n     sect falling in pieces the moment it becomes organized for work.\n     Unitarianism does not gain on Orthodoxy; Orthodoxy does not gain\n     on Unitarianism. Each sect takes up the little portion that\n     belongs to it, and must rest contented; and all the power of\n     propagandism, of sectarian zeal, of fire and earnestness, does but\n     cause the little flame to burn up more brightly for an instant on\n     the local altar; and, when it dies down, the ashes remain on that\n     altar still.\n\n     \"Our word, then, is Unity. But how shall we get it? Not by\n     becoming Catholics; not by making another order of Protestants;\n     not by instituting another sect; but by going down below all the\n     sects--going down to faith. For faith, hope, aspiration, charity,\n     love, worship, we believe, are inherent, profound, indestructible\n     elements of human nature.\" (Pp. 7-9.)\n\nThe rhetoric is not bad; but in what does the unity aimed at consist,\nand how is it to be obtained? Religion, by the speakers who addressed\nthe association, is assumed to be a sentiment, and faith and hope and\ncharity are, we are told, indestructible elements of human nature;\nthen since human nature is one, what unity can the free religionists\naspire to that they and all men have not already, or have not always\nhad? Pass over this; whence and by what means is the unity, whatever\nit consists in, to be obtained? The answer to this question is not\nvery definite, but it would seem the association expect it from\nbelow, not from above; for the president says, we are to obtain\nit only by \"going down below all sects--going down to faith.\" A\nCatholic would have said, We attain to unity only by rising above all\nsects, to a faith which is one and universal, and which the sects\nrend and divide among themselves. But the radicals have outgrown\nCatholicity, outgrown Christianity, and very properly look for faith\nand unity from below. But when they get down, down to the lowest\ndeep, will they find them? What faith or unity will they find in the\nlowest depths of humanity in addition to what all men have always\nhad? If, notwithstanding the unity of nature, sects and divisions\nprevail, and always have prevailed, how, with nothing above nature or\nin addition to it, do you expect to get rid of them, and establish\npractical unity, or to obtain the charity that springs from unity?\n\nThe radicals deny that they are destructives, that they have only\nnegations, or that they make war on any existing church, religion,\nsect, or denomination; they will pardon us, then, if we are unable to\nconceive what they mean by unity, or what unity, except the physical\nunity of nature, there is or can be among those who divide on every\nsubject in which they feel any interest. Does the association propose\nto get rid of diversity by indifference, and of divisions simply by\nbringing all men to agree to differ? We certainly find only unity\nin denying among the individuals associated, who agree in nothing\nexcept that each one holds himself or herself alone responsible for\nhis or her own personal views and utterances. Some of them would\nretain the Christian name, and others would reject it. Mr. Francis\nEllingwood Abbott argues that it is not honest to hold on to the name\nafter having rejected the thing. By professing to be a Christian\na man binds himself to accept Christianity; and whoso accepts\nChristianity, binds himself to accept the Catholic Church, which\nembodies and expresses it. We make an extract from his address:\n\n     \"As I look abroad in the community, I see two extreme types of\n     religious faith. One is represented in the Roman Church, the\n     great principle of authority. That church has been, and, I think,\n     will always be, the grandest and the greatest embodiment of\n     Christianity in social life. It is worthy of profound respect;\n     and I, for one, yield it profound respect. It took an infidel,\n     Auguste Comte, to portray fairly the service done to the world by\n     the Christian Church--the great Catholic Church--of the middle\n     ages; and we radicals are false to our principles, if we do not\n     do homage to every thing that is great and good and serviceable\n     in its season, even although we think its day of usefulness may\n     have passed. The fundamental principle of the Roman Church is\n     authority, pure and simple. The theology of Rome carries that\n     principle out to the extremest degree. Its hierarchy embodies it\n     in an institution; and, from beginning to end, from centre to\n     periphery, the Roman Catholic Church is consistent with itself\n     in the development of that one idea in spiritual and social and\n     ecclesiastical life.\n\n     \"At the other pole of human thought and experience, I see a\n     very few persons--indeed, so few that I might, perhaps, almost\n     count them on the fingers of one hand--who plant themselves\n     on the principle of liberty alone; who want nothing else; who\n     stand without dogma, without creed, without priesthood, without\n     Bible, without Christ, without any thing but the Almighty God\n     working in their hearts. These two principles of authority and\n     freedom have thus worked out for themselves, at last, consistent\n     expression. Here are the two extremes--Romish Christianity and\n     free religion; and between these two extremes we see a compromise,\n     Protestant Christianity--the compromise between Catholicism and\n     free religion. Every compromise is weak, because it contains\n     conflicting elements. Protestant Christianity is like the image\n     with head of gold and feet of clay. It cannot stand for ever.\n     Either Christianity, as embodied in the Roman Church, is right, or\n     else free religion is right. Have we not learned yet to give up\n     these combinations of opposites, contraries, and incompatibles?\n     Has the war taught us nothing? Are we still trying to make some\n     chimerical mixture, some impossible union of freedom and slavery?\n     I trust not. For my own part, I stand pledged to liberty, pure\n     and simple; and I have come to view all compromises alike, and\n     to cast them utterly away, whether they clothe themselves in the\n     garments of Geneva, or in the last expression of Dr. Bellows and\n     the Unitarian Church.\" (Pp. 32-33.)\n\nMr. Abbott is not quite exact in his phraseology, and does not state\nthe Catholic principle correctly. The principle on which the church\nrests, and out of which grow all her doctrines and precepts, is not\nauthority, but the mystery of the Incarnation, or the assumption of\nhuman nature by the Word. Nor is he himself quite honest according\nto his own test of honesty. To be consistent with himself, he must\nreject not only the term _Christian_, but also the term _religion_,\nand put the alternative, Either Catholicity or no religion. The word\nreligion--from _religare_--means either intensively to bind more\nfirmly, or iteratively, to bind again, to bind man morally to God as\nhis last end, in addition to his being physically bound to God as his\nfirst cause. _Free religion_ is a contradiction in terms, as much so\nas free bondage. Religion is always a bond, a law that binds.\n\nRalph Waldo Emerson differs from Mr. Abbott, and would retain the\nname Christian, though without the reality. We quote a long passage\nfrom his not very remarkable speech, out of deference to his rank as\none of the originators of the movement:\n\n     \"We have had, not long since, presented to us by Max M\u00fcller a\n     valuable paragraph from St. Augustine, not at all extraordinary\n     in itself, but only as coming from that eminent father in the\n     church, and at that age in which St. Augustine writes: 'That which\n     is now called the Christian religion existed among the ancients,\n     and never did not exist from the planting of the human race until\n     Christ came in the flesh, at which time the true religion, which\n     already subsisted, began to be called Christianity.' I believe\n     that not only Christianity is as old as the creation--not only\n     every sentiment and precept of Christianity can be paralleled\n     in other religious writings--but more, that a man of religious\n     susceptibility, and one at the same time conversant with many\n     men--say a much travelled man--can find the same idea in\n     numberless conversations. The religious find religion wherever\n     they associate. When I find in people narrow religion, I find also\n     in them narrow reading.\n\n     \"I object, of course, to the claim of miraculous\n     dispensation--certainly not to the doctrine of Christianity. This\n     claim impairs, to my mind, the soundness of him who makes it, and\n     indisposes us to his communion. This comes the wrong way; it comes\n     from without, not within. This positive, historical, authoritative\n     scheme is not consistent with our experience or our expectations.\n     It is something not in nature, it is contrary to that law of\n     nature which all wise men recognized, namely, never to require\n     a larger cause than is necessary to the effect. George Fox, the\n     Quaker, said that, though he read of Christ and God, he knew them\n     only from the like spirit in his own soul. We want all the aids to\n     our moral training. We cannot spare the vision nor the virtue of\n     the saints; but let it be by pure sympathy, not with any personal\n     or official claim. If you are childish and exhibit your saint as\n     a worker of wonders, a thaumaturgist, I am repelled. That claim\n     takes his teachings out of logic and out of nature, and permits\n     official and arbitrary senses to be grafted on the teachings. It\n     is the praise of our New Testament that its teachings go to the\n     honor and benefit of humanity--that no better lesson has been\n     taught or incarnated. Let it stand, beautiful and wholesome, with\n     whatever is most like it in the teaching and practice of men; but\n     do not attempt to elevate it out of humanity by saying, 'This was\n     not a man,' for then you confound it with the fables of every\n     popular religion; and my distrust of the story makes me distrust\n     the doctrine as soon as it differs from my own belief. Whoever\n     thinks a story gains by the prodigious, by adding something out\n     of nature, robs it more than he adds. It is no longer an example,\n     a model; no longer a heart-stirring hero, but an exhibition, a\n     wonder, an anomaly, removed out of the range of influence with\n     thoughtful men.\" (Pp. 42-44.)\n\nMr. Emerson cannot be very deeply read in patristic literature,\nif he is obliged to go to Max M\u00fcller for a quotation from St.\nAugustine, and he proves by his deductions from the language of this\ngreat doctor and father that he knows little of the Catholic Church.\nSt. Augustine was a Catholic, and taught that, though times vary,\nfaith does not vary, and that as believed the patriarchs so believe\nwe, only they believed in the Christ who was to come, and we in the\nChrist who has come; and the church teaches through her doctors that\nthere has been only one revelation, that this was made, in substance,\nto our first parents in the garden. She teaches us that Christianity\nis not only as old, but even older than creation; for creation with\nall it contains was created in reference to Christ the Incarnate\nWord, and consequently Christianity, founded in the Incarnation, is\nreally the supreme law according to which the universe was created\nand exists. It precedes all other religions, and the various heathen\nor pagan religions and mythologies are only traditions, corruptions,\nperversions, or travesties of it. To the question, \"How is the church\ncatholic?\" the very child's catechism answers, \"Because she subsists\nin all ages, teaches all nations, and maintains all truth.\" How\notherwise could she be Catholic?\n\nThat \"every sentiment [doctrine?] and precept of Christianity can be\nparalleled in other religious writings\" (religions, for Christianity\nis not a writing) may be true in part, if taken separately and\nin an unchristian sense; but certainly not as a connected and\nself-consistent system, in its unity and integrity. But suppose it,\nwhat then? It would only prove that all religions have retained more\nor less of the primitive revelation, which all men held in common\nbefore the Gentile apostasy and the dispersion of the race consequent\non the attempt to build the Tower of Babel; not that all religions\nhave had a common origin in human nature. What we actually find in\npagan religions and mythologies that is like Christianity, is no more\nthan we should expect on the supposition of a primitive revelation\nheld out of unity, and interpreted by pride, folly, and ignorance,\nthe characteristics of every pagan people. But Mr. Emerson is true to\nthe old doctrine which he chanted years ago in _The Dial_:\n\n    \"Out from the heart of nature rolled\n    The burdens of the Bible old;\n    The litanies of nations came\n    Like the volcano's tongue of flame,\n    Up from the burning core below--\n    The canticles of love and woe.\"\n\nNothing can roll out of the heart of nature but nature itself; and\nhence, in order to derive Christianity from within, Mr. Emerson\neliminates whatever is supernatural and external and reduces it to\nsimple nature, which every man from the beginning to the end of the\nworld carries within him, and of which he cannot divest himself. He\nunchristianizes Christianity, makes it an element of human nature,\nconfounds it with the natural laws of the physicists, and then tells\nus it is as old as creation, which is about as much as telling us\nman is as old as--man, or nature is as old as--nature. Well may Mr.\nEmerson be called the Sage of Concord, and be listened to as an\noracle.\n\nAll the speakers, with three exceptions, seemed anxious to have\nit understood that the Free Religious Association has some great\naffirmative truth which is destined to redeem and save the world.\nColonel Higginson, the successor of Theodore Parker, tells us with\ngreat earnestness:\n\n     \"If this movement of ours means any thing, it means not a little\n     petty denial, not a little criticism, not a textual discussion,\n     not a sum in addition or subtraction, like Bishop Colenso's books,\n     not a bit of historical analysis, like Strauss or Renan. These\n     are trivial things; these do not touch people; these do not reach\n     the universal heart. The universe needs an affirmation, not a\n     denial; and the religious movement that has not for its centre the\n     assertion of something, would be condemned already to degenerate\n     into a sect by the time it had the misfortune to get fairly born.\"\n     (P. 58.)\n\nAnd again:\n\n     \"Affirmation! There is no affirmation except the belief\n     in universal natural religion; all else is narrowness and\n     sectarianism, though it call itself by the grandest name, compared\n     with that. It impoverishes a man; it keeps his sympathy in one\n     line of religious communication; it takes all the spiritual life\n     of the race, and says, 'All of this that was not an effluence\n     from Jesus you must set aside;' and so it makes you a member in\n     full standing of some little sect, all of whose ideas, all of\n     whose thoughts, revolved in the mind of some one narrow-minded\n     theologian who founded it. It shuts you up there, and you die,\n     suffocated for want of God's free air outside.\" (P. 59.)\n\nBut the reverend colonel here affirms nothing not affirmed by\nChristianity, nor any thing more than belongs to all men. Natural\nreligion is simply the natural law, the moral law, prescribed to\nevery man through his reason by the end for which he is created, and\nis included in the Christian religion as essential to the Christian\ncharacter. What the free religionist does is not to affirm any thing\nnot universally insisted on by the Catholic Church, but to deny all\nreligion but universal natural religion; that is, he simply denies\nsupernatural revelation, and the supernatural order, or that there is\nany reality broader than nature or above it. Free religion, as such,\nis, then, not affirmative, but purely negative; the negation of all\nreligions in so far as they assert the supernatural. The real thought\nand design of the men and women composing the association is to get\nrid of every thing in every religion that transcends or professes to\ntranscend nature. They make no direct war on the church or even on\nthe sects, we concede; for they take it for granted that when people\nare once fully persuaded that nature is all, and that only natural\nreligion is or can be true, all else will gradually die out of itself.\n\nMrs. Lucy Stone agrees in this with the others, and does not disguise\nher thought. She says:\n\n     \"We come into the world, I believe, every one of us, with all\n     that is needful in ourselves, if we will only trust it--all that\n     is needful to help us on and up to the very highest heights to\n     which a human being can ever climb; but we have covered it over\n     by dogma and creed and sectarian theory, and by our own misdeeds,\n     until these angel voices that are in us cease to be heard; not\n     totally cease--I do not believe they ever totally cease--but\n     they become less and less audible to us. But if we learn to heed\n     their faintest whisper, reverently and obediently, I believe that\n     there is no path where the soul asks you to go that you may not\n     safely tread. It may carry you to the burning, fiery furnace,\n     but you will come out, and the smell of fire even will not be on\n     your garments. It may compel you into the lion's den, but the\n     wild beast's mouth will be shut. You may walk where scorpions are\n     in the way of duty, and you will not be hurt. It is this 'inner\n     light;' it is not a text, it is not a creed, but it is this in\n     ourselves which, if trusted, will lead us into all truth.\n\n     \"I said I did not believe this voice was ever lost in the human\n     soul. I do not forget that men grow very wicked, and women too,\n     for that matter; I do not forget that men and women sometimes\n     appear to us so lost and fallen that it seems as if no power in\n     themselves, or any human power, could help them up; and yet to\n     these worst, men and women, in some hallowed moment, is the word\n     given, 'This is the way: walk ye in it.' And if, at the side of\n     this man or woman, at that very moment, is some helping hand, some\n     voice wise enough to counsel, he or she may be started to walk in\n     that way.\" (P. 100.)\n\nIf Mr. Abbott is the logician of the association, Mrs. Julia Ward\nHowe is decidedly the wit. In the essay she read to the meeting\nshe, with her keen woman's wit and her hard common sense, shows\nup in admirable style the ridiculousness and absurdity of the\nwhole movement. She is not herself indeed free from all taint of\nradicalism, and much she says may be due to her facility in detecting\nand satirizing the follies and absurdities of her friends rather\nthan those of her foes; but her essay proves that she has a soul,\nand knows that it has aspirations that go beyond nature, and wants\nwhich only a supernatural religion can satisfy. She evidently has\nglimpses of a truth higher, deeper, broader, than any recognized\nby any other radical who spoke. She disposes of free religion in a\nsingle sentence, \"He is not religious who does not recognize the\n_obligations_ of religion.\" We have space only for the concluding\nparagraph of her not very logical, self-consistent, but witty,\nshrewd, and satirical essay on _Freedom and Restraint in Religion_:\n\n     \"But, friends, a sudden reaction comes over me. I determine to\n     profess and practise the new religion. I have learned at the\n     free religious club that I possess the first requisite for this,\n     having never studied any theology at all. The ex-divines whom I\n     have met there have so bewailed the artificial ignorance which\n     they acquired in their divinity-school training, that I presume\n     my natural knowledge to be its proper and desired antithesis. I\n     have read the Bhavadgheeta and Mr. Emerson's poems, the psalms and\n     gospel of the new faith. To be no Christian is the next important\n     desideratum; and I believe that I shall find this, as most people\n     do, easier than not. My first rule will be, 'Brahmins, beware\n     of intercourse with Pariahs!' The three hundred incarnations of\n     Vishnu, far more imposing in number than the single excarnation\n     of which the old theology has made so much, shall be preached\n     by me both as precept and example. The Confucian moralities,\n     as illustrated by Californian experience, shall replace the\n     Decalogue. Mr. Emerson's crowning sentence, that he who commits a\n     crime hurts himself, will, of course, suffice to convert a whole\n     society of criminals and reprobates. I will introduce the Joss\n     into prisons, and give the myth of the Celestial Empire a literal\n     interpretation. Our railroad and steamboat system will greatly\n     facilitate the offering of children to the river, with the further\n     advantage of offering the parents too. The strangling of female\n     infants will relieve the present excess of female population in\n     New England, and postpone the pressure of woman suffrage. The\n     burning of widows alone will save the country no small outlay in\n     pensions. Lastly, since the Turkish ethics are coming so much into\n     favor, I should advise a more than Mormon application of them in\n     our midst. Co\u00f6perative housekeeping could then be begun on the\n     most immediate and harmonious footing. And so we will reconvert\n     and transreform, and true progress shall consist in regress.\n\n     \"But, as Archimedes asked to get out of the world in order to move\n     it, we shall be forced to go outside of Christendom in order to\n     accomplish this revolution. And if I may believe my friends of the\n     Free Religious Association, the surest way to do this will be to\n     keep closely in their midst. For, elsewhere, between steamboats\n     and missionaries, we cannot be sure of meeting people who shall be\n     sure of not being Christians.\n\n     \"Perish the jest, and let the jester perish, if in aught but\n     saddest earnest she exchanged the serious for the comic mask.\n     Laughter is sometimes made to convey pathos that lies too deep for\n     tears. I have but faintly sketched the scene-painting that would\n     have to be done to-day, if religion could slip back and miss the\n     sacred and indispensable mediation of Christianity. Take back the\n     English language beyond the noble building of Shakespeare and\n     Milton; take back philosophy beyond the labor of the Germans and\n     the intuition of the Greeks; take back mathematics beyond Laplace\n     and Newton; take back politics from the enlargement of republican\n     experience--you will have yet a harder task when you shall carry\n     religion back to its ante-Christian status and interpretation.\n\n     \"Lastly, and to sum up. The freedom of religion is the\n     satisfaction of obeying the innermost and highest impulses\n     of the human soul, to the disregard of all secondary powers\n     and considerations. I find this freedom inseparable from the\n     constraint which obliges the man toward this highest effort, as\n     the laws of the tidal flow force the wave to high-water mark.\n     Our human dignity consists in the assertion of this freedom, the\n     acknowledgment of this obligation. Intellectual freedom is found\n     in study and the progress of thought, which is ever substituting\n     enlarged and improved for rude and narrow processes. But the\n     liberal heart precedes the liberal mind, and conditions it. To be\n     careless as to authority and rash in conclusions, is not to be\n     free; to be strict in logic and scrupulous in derivation, is not\n     to be unfree. Let me end my discursive remarks with one phrase\n     from a dear, melancholy, Calvinistic poet, who passed his life in\n     damning himself and blessing others, repenting of a thousand sins\n     he was never able to commit:\n\n      'He is the freeman whom the truth makes free,\n        And all are slaves beside.'\"\n                                      (Pp. 53-57.)\n\nA stranger, who gave his name as Gustave Watson, made a brief,\nmodest, sensible speech, which fully refuted the radical pretensions.\nHe told them that he had listened in vain to hear pronounced\nthe great affirmative truth the speakers professed to have. An\nevangelical minister, a Rev. Jesse H. Jones, took up the defence of\nChristianity, but was too ignorant of the Christian faith, and too\nfar gone himself in radicalism, to be able to effect much. He took\nup the weakest line of defence possible, and labored chiefly to show\nthe novelty of Christianity against St. Augustine, and its identity,\nunder one of its aspects, with carnal Judaism or modern socialism. An\northodox Jew sent an essay and a liberal Jew spoke. A professor of\nspiritism made a speech, and several radicals spoke whose speeches we\nare obliged to pass over, though as good as those we have noticed.\n\nWe have refrained as far as possible from ridiculing the proceedings\nof the association, which is no association at all, since it is\nfounded on the principle of free individualism; for we wish to treat\nall men and women with the respect due to ourselves, if not to\nthemselves. The chief actors in the movement we have formerly known,\nand some of them intimately. We have no doubt of their sincerity and\nearnestness; but we must be permitted to say that we have found\nnothing new or striking in their speeches, and we cannot remember the\ntime when we were not perfectly familiar with all their doctrines and\npretensions. Their views and aims were set forth in the New England\nmetropolis nearly forty years ago, if with less mental refinement\nand polish, with an originality and freshness, a force and energy,\nwhich they can hardly hope to rival. They were embodied in 1836,\nand attempted to be realized in the Society for Christian Union and\nProgress, which its founder abandoned because he would not suffer\nit to grow into a sect, because he saw his movement was leading no\nwhither, and could accomplish nothing for the glory of God or the\ngood of mankind here or hereafter, and because, through the grace\nand mercy of God, he became convinced of the truth and sanctity of\nthe Catholic Church against which the Protestant reformers in the\nsixteenth century rebelled. He may not now be very proud of these\nradicals, but they are, to a great extent, the product of a movement\nof which he and Ralph Waldo Emerson were the earliest and principal\nleaders in Boston.\n\nWe readily acknowledge that the pretensions of these radical men\nand women are very great, but they show no great intellectual\nability, and are painfully narrow and superficial. The ministers and\nex-ministers who figured on the occasion exhibited neither depth nor\nbreadth of view, neither strength nor energy of mind. They proved\nthemselves passable rhetoricians, but deplorably ignorant of the\npast and the present, of the religions they believed themselves\nto have outgrown, and especially of human nature and the wants\nof the human soul. They appeared to know only their own theories\nprojected from themselves, and which are as frail and as attenuated\nas any spider's web ever rendered visible by the morning dew. They\npretend to have studied, mastered, and exhausted all the past\nsystems, religions, and mythologies; they pride themselves on the\nuniversality of their knowledge, and their having lost all bigotry,\nintolerance, or severity toward any sect or denomination. They speak\neven patronizingly of the church, and are quite ready to concede that\nshe was good and useful to humanity in her day, in barbarous times,\nand in the infancy of the race; but humanity, having attained its\nmajority, has outgrown her, and demands now a more manly and robust,\na purer and broader and a more living and life-giving religion--a\nreligion, in a word, more Christian than Christianity, more Catholic\nthan Catholicity. Ignorant or worse than ignorant of the lowest\nelements of Catholic teaching, they fancy they have outgrown it,\nas the adult man has outgrown the garments of his childhood. Their\nself-conceit is sublime. Why, they are not large enough to wear the\nfig-leaf aprons fabricated by the reformers of the sixteenth century\nwith which to cover their nakedness. The tallest and stoutest among\nthem is a dwarf by the side of a Luther or a Calvin, or even of the\nstern old Puritan founders of New England; nay, they cannot bear an\nintellectual comparison even with the originators of New England\nUnitarianism.\n\nTake the Reverend Colonel Higginson, a man of good blood and rich\nnatural gifts, one who, if he had been trained in a Christian school,\nand had had his mind elevated and expanded by the study of Christian\ndogmata, could hardly have failed to be one of the great men, if\nnot the greatest man of his age. He has naturally true nobility of\nsoul, rare intellectual power, and genius of a high order; yet he\nis so blinded, and so dwarfed in mind by his radicalism, that he\ncan seriously say, \"There is no affirmation except the belief in\nuniversal natural religion; all else is narrowness and sectarianism.\"\nHe has, then, no views broader than nature, no aspirations that rise\nhigher than nature, and labors under the delusion that men, reduced\nto nature alone, would really be elevated and ennobled. He has never\nlearned that nature is not self-sufficing--is dependent; that it has\nboth its origin and end as well as its medium in the supernatural,\nand could not act or subsist a moment without it--a truth which the\nCatholic child has learned before a dozen years old, and which is a\nsimple commonplace with the Christian; so much so, that he rarely\nthinks it necessary to assert it, far less to prove it.\n\nThis utterance of the reverend colonel is accepted by all the\nradicals. None of them get above second causes; for them all God and\nnature appear to be identical and indistinguishable; and this appears\nto be their grand and all-reconciling doctrine. Hence the religion\nwhich they propose has no higher origin than man, and no higher end\nthan the natural development and well-being of man, individual and\nsocial, in this earthly life. It is the religion of humanity, not\nthe religion of God, and man, not God, is obeyed and worshipped in\nit; yet it seems never to occur to these wise men and women that\nnature either separated from or identified with God vanishes into\nnothing, and their religion with it. But is a religion that is simply\nevolved from humanity, that has no element above the human, and is\nnecessarily restricted to man in this life, and that contemplates\nneither fore nor after, higher, deeper, and more universal than\nChristianity which asserts for us the nature and essence of God,\nteaches us the origin and end of all things, the real relations of\nman to his Maker and to universal nature through all the degrees and\nstages of his existence? No; it is your naturism that is \"narrowness\nand sectarianism.\"\n\nRadicalism has heard of the mystery of the Incarnation, and\ninterprets it to mean not the union of two for ever distinct\nnatures, the divine and human, in one divine person, but one divine\nnature in all human persons. Hence, while the person is human,\ncircumscribed, and transitory, nature in all men is divine, is God\nhimself, permanent, universal, infinite, immortal. This is what\nthe Christian mystery, according to them, really means, though the\nignorant, narrow-minded, and blundering apostles never knew it, never\nunderstood its profound significance. The church took the narrow and\nshallow view of the apostles; and hence our radicals have outgrown\nthe church, and instead of looking back or without, above or beyond\nthemselves, they look only within, down into their own divine nature,\nwhence emanates the universe, and in which is all virtue, all good,\nall truth, all force, all reality. The aim of all moral and religious\ndiscipline must be to get rid of all personal distinction, all\ncircumscription, and to sink all individuality in the divine nature,\nwhich is the real man, the \"one man,\" the \"over-soul\" of which Mr.\nEmerson in his silvery tones formerly discoursed so eloquently and\ncaptivated so many charming Boston girls, who understood him by\nsympathy with their hearts, not their heads, though what he said\nseemed little better than transcendental nonsense to the elder,\ngraver, and less susceptible of both sexes. Impersonal nature is\ndivine; hence the less of persons we are the more divine we are,\nand the more we act from the promptings of impersonal nature the\nmore god-like our acts. Hence instinct, which is impersonal, is a\nsafer guide than reason, which is personal; the logic of the heart is\npreferable to the logic of the head, and fools and madmen superior\nto the wise and the sane. Hence, are fools and madmen profoundly\nreverenced by Turks and Arabs.\n\nBut impersonal nature is one and identical in all men, and identical,\ntoo, with the divine nature. There are no distinct, specific, or\nindividual natures; there is only one nature in all men and things;\nfor all individuality, all difference or distinction, is in the\npersonality. Hence when you get rid of personality, which, after all,\nhas no real subsistence, and sink back into impersonal nature, you\nattain at once to absolute unity, always and ever present under all\nthe diversity of beliefs, views, or persons. Men and women are mere\nbubbles floating on the face of the ocean, and nothing distinguishes\nthem from the ocean underlying them but their bubbleosity. Destroy\nthat, and they are the ocean itself. Get rid of personality, sink\nback into impersonal nature, and all men and women become one, and\nidentical in the one universal nature. Vulgar radicals and reformers\nseek to reform society by laboring to ameliorate the condition of\nmen and women as persons, and are less profitably employed than the\nboy blowing soap-bubbles; for the reality is in the ocean on the\nface of which the bubble floats, not in the bubbleosity. The true\nradicals, who radicalize in satin slippers and kid gloves, seek\nnot to ameliorate the bubbleosity which is unreal, an unveracity,\na mere apparition, a sense-show, but to ameliorate man and society\nby sinking it, and all differences with it, in universal impersonal\nnature.\n\nYet what amelioration is possible except personal? If you get rid of\nmen and women as persons, you annihilate them in every sense in which\nthey are distinguishable from the one universal nature; and suppose\nyou to succeed in doing it, your reform, your amelioration would\nbe the annihilation of man and society; for you can have neither\nwithout men and women as individuals--that is, as persons. To reform\nor ameliorate them in their impersonal nature is both impossible and\nunnecessary; for in their impersonal nature they are identical with\nuniversal nature, and universal nature is God, infinite, immutable,\nimmortal, incapable of being augmented or diminished. Nothing can be\ndone for or against impersonal nature. We see, then, nothing that\nthese refined and accomplished radicals can propose as the object of\ntheir labors but the making of all men and women, as far as possible,\ntalk and act like fools and madmen. This would seem to be their grand\ndiscovery, and the proof of their having outgrown the church.\n\nBut we should be ourselves the fool and madman if we attempted to\nreason with them. They discard logic, reject reason, and count the\nunderstanding as one of the poorest of our faculties; as mean,\nnarrow, personal. Reason and understanding are personal; and all\ntruth, all knowledge, all wisdom, all that is real is impersonal. Is\nnot the impersonality of God, that is, of nature, a primary article\nof their creed? How, then, reason with them or expect them to listen\nto the voice of reason? Reason is too strait for them, and they have\noutgrown it, as they have outgrown the church! They do not even\npretend to be logically consistent with themselves. No one holds\nhimself bound by his own utterances, any more than he does by the\nutterances of another. They are free religionists, and scorn to be\nbound even by the truth.\n\nBut suppose they wish to retain men and women--or women and men, for\nwith them woman is the superior--as persons, how do they expect by\nrestricting, as they do, their knowledge to this life, and making\ntheir happiness consist in the goods of this world alone, to effect\ntheir individual amelioration? Socialism secures always its own\ndefeat. The happiness of this life is attainable only by living\nfor another. Restricted to this life and this world, man has play\nfor only his animal instincts, propensities, and powers. There is\nno object on which his higher or peculiarly human affections and\nfaculties can be exerted, and his moral, religious, rational nature\nmust stagnate and rot, or render him unspeakably miserable by his\nhungering and thirsting after a spiritual good which he has not, and\nwhich is nowhere to be had. The happiness of this life comes from\nliving for a supernatural end, the true end of man, in obedience\nto the law it prescribes. When we make this life or this world our\nend, or assume, with Mr. Emerson, that we have it within, in our own\nimpersonal nature, we deny the very condition of either individual or\nsocial happiness, take falsehood for truth; and no good ever does or\ncan come from falsehood.\n\nIt will be observed by our readers, from the extracts we have made,\nthat the radicals not only confine their views to humanity and to\nthis life, but proceed on the assumption of the sufficiency of man's\nnature for itself. They appear to have, with the exception of Mrs.\nHowe, no sense of the need of any supernatural help. They have no\nsense of the incompleteness and insufficiency of nature, as they\nhave no compassion for its weakness. They never stumble, never fall,\nnever sin, are never baffled, are never in need of assistance. It\nis not so with ordinary mortals. We find nature insufficient for us,\nour own strength inadequate; and, voyaging over the stormy ocean of\nlife, we are often wrecked, and compelled to cry out in agony of\nsoul, \"Lord, save or we perish.\" Whosoever has received any religious\ninstruction knows that it is not in ourselves but in God that we\nlive and move and have our being, and that not without supernatural\nassistance can we attain true beatitude.\n\nIn conclusion, we may say, these radical men and women set forth\nnothing not familiar to us before the late Theodore Parker was an\nunfledged student of the Divinity School, Cambridge, and even before\nmost of them were born. We know their views and aims better than\nthey themselves know them, and we have lived long enough to learn\nthat they are narrow and superficial, false and vain. We have in the\nchurch the freedom we sighed for but found not, and which is not to\nbe found, in radicalism. God is more than man, more than nature, and\nnever faileth; Christ the God-man, at once perfect God and perfect\nman, two distinct natures in one divine person, is the way, the\ntruth, and the life; and out of him there is no salvation, no true\nlife, no beatitude. We do not expect these radicals to believe us;\nthey are worshippers of man and nature, and joined to their idols.\nEsteeming themselves wise, they become fools; ever learning, they are\nnever able to come to the knowledge of the truth, any more than the\nchild is able to grasp the rainbow.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[37] _Proceedings at the Second Annual Meeting of the Free Religious\nAssociation, held in Boston May 27th and 28th, 1869._ Boston: Roberts\nBrothers. 1869. 8vo, pp. 122.\n\n\n\n\nMEMENTO MORI.\n\n\n     \"Come and see how a Christian can die.\"--_Addison to his\n     step-son._\n\nWe read that the celebrated Montaigne wished to make a compilation\nof remarkable death-bed scenes; for, as he said, \"he who should\nteach men how to die would teach them how to live.\" It may not be\nunprofitable for us to recall the last moments of some who have died\nin the Catholic Church. It may give us some new idea of the power\nof faith to sustain the soul in that supreme moment, and show us in\nwhat a super-eminent degree the spirit of the church fits one for\nthe last great change, and fortifies him to meet it hopefully if not\ntriumphantly. Let us, then, in this month, consecrated by so many\npious Catholic hearts to the memory of the dead, draw around the\ndeath-beds of some who are remarkable in various ways, and see if we\nwould not have our last end like theirs. There is a horrid curiosity,\nif no higher feeling, which attracts us to the side of the dying, \"to\nobserve their words, their actions, and what sort of countenance they\nput upon it.\" It is as if we would read the final conflict of the\nsoul, obtain some new insight into the great mystery of death, and\nperhaps catch some glimpse of what awaits us beyond its shadows. Even\nthe unbeliever at such a moment, forced to reflect on the destiny of\nthe soul, exclaims, \"Soul, what art thou? Flame that devourest me,\nwilt thou live after me? Must thou suffer still? Mysterious guest,\nwhat wilt thou become? Seekest thou to reunite thyself to the great\nflame of day? Perhaps from this fire thou art only a spark, only a\nwandering ray which that star recalls. Perhaps, ceasing to exist when\nman dies, thou art only a moisture more pure than the animated dust\nthe earth has produced.\" The mind thus excited to doubt and question\nis already on the road to conviction. To see how a good man meets\nhis fate, is a lesson of heavenly love which fastens itself in the\nmemory; the words that consoled him and that he uttered sink into the\nheart, perhaps to diffuse light when our own time comes.\n\nIf Addison found nothing more imposing, nothing more affecting, than\naccounts of the last moments of the dying; if the great Montaigne\nloved the most minute details respecting them, we need not turn with\nrepugnance from what we have a vital interest in, and what may give\nus some new idea of the blessing of dying in the arms of our Holy\nMother the Church, fortified by her sacraments and sustained by her\nspirit. The French historian Anquetil, in giving an account of the\ndeath of Montmorenci, says, \"It is instructive for persons of all\nconditions in life to witness the death of a great man who unites\nnoble sentiments with Christian humility.\" It is true Dr. Johnson\nsays, \"It matters not how a man dies, but how he lives;\" but a holy\ndeath is generally the crown of a good life, though \"there are dark,\ndark deaths which even the saints have died, the aspect of whose\nbrightness was all turned heavenward, so we could not see it.\"[38]\n\nI do not believe that \"there is more or less of affectation in every\ndeath-bed scene.\" Young, rather, is right:\n\n    \"A death-bed's a detector of the heart.\n    Here tired dissimulation drops her mask\n    Through life's grimace, that mistress of the scene!\"\n\nFather Faber says:\n\n     \"Every Christian death-bed is a world--a complete world--of\n     graces, interferences, compensations, lights, struggles,\n     victories, supernatural gestures, and the action of grand\n     spiritual laws. Each death-bed, explained to us as God could\n     explain it, would be in itself an entire science of God--a summa\n     of the most delicate theology. The varieties of grace in the\n     individual soul are so many infinities of the one infinite life of\n     God. No two deaths are quite alike. The most delicate shades of\n     difference between one death and another would probably disclose\n     to us more of the ways of God, and more of the capabilities of the\n     soul than philosophy has ever taught. Some deaths are so beautiful\n     that they can hardly be recognizable for punishments. Such was\n     the death of St. Joseph, with his head pillowed on the lap of\n     Jesus. The twilight bosom of Abraham was but a dull place compared\n     with the house of Nazareth which the eyes of Jesus lighted. Such\n     was Mary's death, the penalty of which was rather in its delay.\n     It was a soft extinction, through the noiseless flooding of her\n     heart with divine love. As nightingales are said to have sung\n     themselves to death, so Simeon died, not of the sweet weariness of\n     his long watching, but of the fulness of his contentment, of the\n     satisfaction of his desires, of the very new youth of soul which\n     the touch of the Eternal Child had infused into his age, and,\n     breaking forth into music which heaven itself might envy and could\n     not surpass, he died with his world-soothing song upon his lips--a\n     song so sunset-like that one might believe all the beauty of all\n     earth's beautiful evenings since creation had gone into it to\n     fill it full of peaceful spells. Age after age shall take up the\n     strain. All the poetry of Christian weariness is in it. It gives\n     a voice to the heavenly detachment and unworldliness of countless\n     saints. It is the heart's evening light after the working hours\n     of the day to millions and millions of believers. The very last\n     compline that the church shall sing, before the midnight when the\n     doom begins and the Lord breaks out upon the darkness from the\n     refulgent east, shall overflow with the melodious sweetness of\n     Simeon's pathetic song.\"\n\nThus do our words--even dying words--go on vibrating for ever.\n\nHow many have died like St. Oswald, Archbishop of York, and the\nVenerable Bede, repeating the _Gloria Patri_--that act of praise\nwhich St. Jerome found in constant use among the oriental monks, and\nwas the means of introducing it into the western church, where it is\nnow daily repeated by countless tongues.\n\nSt. Ignatius Loyola died with the holy name of Jesus on his lips,\nthat watchword of his glorious order so full of sweetness to the\nheart. So did that angelic youth, St. Aloysius. St. Hubert died\nrepeating the Lord's Prayer; St. Stephen of Grandmont while saying,\n\"Into thy hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit.\" So did St. John of the\nCross, St. Catharine of Genoa, and hundreds of others.\n\nSt. Arsenius, after more than fifty years spent in the desert,\nregarded death with fear. His brethren, seeing him weep in his agony,\nasked him if, like other men, he feared to die. \"I am seized with\ngreat fear,\" he answered, \"nor has this dread ever left me since I\nfirst came into the desert.\" Nevertheless, he expired, in peace and\nhumble confidence, in his ninety-fifth year.\n\nSt. John Chrysostom, when dying, had all his clothes changed, even to\nhis shoes, putting on his best garments, which were white, as for his\nheavenly nuptials; for \"to one who loves,\" says Novalis, \"death is a\nmystery of sweet mysteries--it is a bridal night.\" He then received\nthe blessed sacrament and prayed, ending according to his custom,\nwith, \"Glory be to God for all things.\" Then making the sign of the\ncross, he gave up his soul.[39]\n\nWe read of the poet-monk C\u00e6dmon, \"That tongue, which had composed\nso many holy words in praise of the Creator, uttered its last words\nwhile he was in the act of signing himself with the cross, and thus\nhe fell into a slumber to awaken in paradise and join in the hymns of\nthe holy angels whom he had imitated in this world, both in his life\nand in his songs.\"[40]\n\nThe account of the death of the Venerable Bede is well known, but it\nis one that can always be read again and again with renewed profit,\nand never without emotion.\n\n     \"About a fortnight before the feast of Easter,\" says his disciple\n     Cuthbert, \"he was reduced to a state of great debility, with\n     difficulty of breathing, but without much pain, and in that\n     condition he lasted till the day of the Lord's Ascension. This\n     time he passed cheerfully and joyfully, giving thanks to Almighty\n     God both by day and night, or rather at all hours of the day\n     and night. He continued to give lessons to us daily, spending\n     the rest of his time in psalmody, and the night also in joy and\n     thanksgiving, unless he were interrupted by a short sleep; and\n     yet, even then, the moment he awaked he began again, and never\n     ceased, with outstretched hands, to return thanks to God. I can\n     declare with truth that I never saw with my eyes, nor heard with\n     my ears, of any man who was so indefatigable in giving thanks to\n     the living God.\n\n     \"O truly happy man! He chanted the passage from the blessed\n     Apostle Paul, 'It is a dreadful thing to fall into the hands\n     of the living God,' and several other passages from Holy Writ,\n     warning us to throw off all torpor of soul, in consideration of\n     our last hour. And being conversant with Anglo-Saxon poetry, he\n     repeated several passages and composed the following lines in our\n     tongue:\n\n         'Before the need-fare\n         None becometh\n         Of thought more wise\n         Than is his need.\n         To search out\n         Ere his going hence,\n         What his spirit\n         For good or evil\n         After his death-day\n         Doomed may be.'\n\n     He also chanted the antiphons according to his and our custom.\n     One of these is, 'O King of glory, Lord of hosts, who on this\n     day didst ascend in triumph above all the heavens, leave us not\n     orphans, but send upon us the Spirit of truth, the promised of\n     the Father. Alleluia.' When he came to the words 'leave us not\n     orphans,' he burst into tears and wept much; and after a while he\n     resumed where he had broken off, and we who heard him wept with\n     him. We wept and studied by turns; or rather wept all the time\n     that we studied.\n\n     \"Thus we passed in joy the quinquagesimal days till the aforesaid\n     festival, and he rejoiced greatly, and gave thanks to God for\n     the infirmities under which he suffered, often repeating, 'God\n     scourgeth every son whom he receiveth,' with other passages of\n     Scripture, and the saying of St. Ambrose, 'I have not lived so as\n     to be ashamed to live among you; nor do I fear to die, for we have\n     a gracious God.'\n\n     \"During these days, beside the lessons which he gave us, and\n     the chant of the psalms, he undertook the composition of two\n     memorable works; that is, he translated into our language the\n     Gospel of St. John as far as 'But what are those among so many?'\n     [St. John vi. 9,] and made a collection of extracts from the notes\n     of Isidore the bishop, saying, 'I will not suffer my pupils to\n     read falsehoods, and labor without profit in that book, after my\n     death.' But on the Tuesday before the Ascension his difficulty of\n     breathing began to distress him exceedingly, and a slight tumor\n     appeared in his feet. He spent the whole day and dictated to us\n     with cheerfulness, saying occasionally, 'Lose no time; I know not\n     how long I may last. Perhaps in a very short time my Maker may\n     take me.' In fact, it seemed to us that he knew the time of his\n     death. He lay awake the whole night praising God, and at dawn on\n     the Wednesday morning ordered us to write quickly, which we did\n     till the hour of tierce. At that hour we walked in procession with\n     the relics, as the rubric for the day prescribed; but one of us\n     remained to wait on him, and said to him, 'Dearest master, there\n     still remains one chapter unwritten; will it fatigue you if I ask\n     more questions?' 'No,' said Bede; 'take your pen and mend it, and\n     write quickly.' This he did.\n\n     \"At noon he said to me, 'I have some valuables in my little\n     chest--pepper, handkerchiefs, and incense. Run quickly and bring\n     the priests of the monastery to me, that I may make to them such\n     presents as God hath given to me. The rich of this world give\n     gold and silver and other things of value; I will give to my\n     brethren what God hath given to me, and will give it with love\n     and pleasure.' I shuddered, but did as he had bidden. He spoke to\n     each one in his turn, reminding and entreating them to celebrate\n     masses, and to pray diligently for him, which all readily promised\n     to do.\n\n     \"When they heard him say that they would see him no more in this\n     world, all burst into tears; but their tears were tempered with\n     joy when he said, 'It is time that I return to Him who made me\n     out of nothing I have lived long, and kindly hath my merciful\n     Judge forecast the course of my life for me. The time of my\n     dissolution is at hand. I wish to be released and to be with\n     Christ.' In this way he continued to speak cheerfully till sunset,\n     when the fore-mentioned youth said, 'Beloved master, there is\n     still one sentence unwritten.' 'Then write quickly,' said Bede.\n     In a few minutes the youth said, 'It is finished.' 'Thou hast\n     spoken truly,' replied Bede; 'take my head between thy hands,\n     for it is my delight to sit opposite to that holy place in which\n     I used to pray; let me sit and invoke my Father.' Sitting thus\n     on the pavement of the cell, and repeating, 'Glory be to the\n     Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost,' as he finished\n     the word 'Ghost,' he breathed his last and took his departure for\n     heaven.\"[41]\n\nWe read that St. Dunstan had Mass celebrated in his room on the\nday of his death; and after communicating, he broke forth into the\nfollowing prayer, \"Glory be to thee, Almighty Father, who hast given\nthe bread of life from heaven to those that fear thee, that we may\nbe mindful of thy wonderful mercy to man in the incarnation of thine\nonly-begotten Son, born of the Virgin. To thee, Holy Father, for that\nwhen we were not, thou didst give to us a being, and when we were\nsinners, didst grant to us a Redeemer, we give due thanks through\nthe same thy Son, our Lord and God, who with thee and the Holy Ghost\nmaketh all things, governeth all things, and liveth through ages and\nages without end.\" Shortly afterward he died in the sixty-fourth year\nof his age.\n\nThe Cistercian abbot Aelred of Yorkshire died in wonderful peace\nafter eight years of monastic life, repeating with his last breath,\n\"I will sing eternally, O Lord, thy mercy, thy mercy, thy mercy!\"\n\nWhile St. Wilfrid of York lay dying in the fair town of Oundle, the\nmonks did not cease chanting night and day around his bed, though\nwith much ado, so bitterly they wept. When they came to the one\nhundred and third psalm, and were sweetly and solemnly singing the\nwords, \"Emittes spiritum tuum, et creabuntur, et renovabis faciem\nterr\u00e6,\" \"Thou shalt send forth thy spirit, and they shall be created;\nand thou shalt renew the face of the earth,\" the words stirred the\nsoul of the careworn abbot, by whose pillow lay the Lord's body and\nblood; he turned his head gently, and without a sigh gave back his\nsoul to God.[42]\n\nSt. Gilbert, when he was more than a century old, used to exclaim,\n\"How long, O Lord, wilt thou forget me for ever? Woe is me, for the\ntime of my sojourning is prolonged!\" His soul was at last released\none morning at the hour of dawn, while the monks were repeating the\nverse of the office, \"The night is far spent, the day is at hand.\"\n\nTwenty abbots assembled to witness the death of St. Stephen Harding\nat Citeaux. Hearing them whisper that he had nothing to fear after\nso holy and austere a life, he said to them trembling, \"I assure you\nI go to God in fear and trembling. If my baseness should be found to\nhave ever done any good, even in this I fear lest I should not have\npreserved that grace with the humility and care I ought.\"\n\nSt. Francis of Assisi, when he found he was dying, wished to be\nlaid on the bare ground. When this was done, he crossed his arms\nand said, \"Farewell, my children. I leave you in the fear of God.\nAbide therein. The time of trial and tribulation cometh. Happy are\nthey who persevere in well-doing. For me, I go to God joyfully,\nrecommending you all to his grace.\" He had the passion according to\nthe Gospel of St. John read to him, and then repeated in a feeble\nvoice the one hundred and forty-first psalm. Having said the final\nverse, \"Bring my soul out of prison,\" he breathed his last.\n\nSt. Thomas Aquinas died lying on ashes sprinkled on the floor. When\nhe saw the holy viaticum in the priest's hands, he said, \"I firmly\nbelieve that Jesus Christ, true God and true man, is present in this\naugust sacrament. I adore thee, my God and my Redeemer. I receive\nthee, the price of my redemption, the viaticum of my pilgrimage, for\nwhose honor I have studied, labored, preached, and taught. I hope I\nhave never advanced any tenet as thy word which I had not learned\nfrom thee. If through ignorance I have done otherwise, I revoke it\nall and submit my writings to the judgment of the holy Roman Church.\"\nThus lying in peace and joy, he received the last sacraments, and\nwas heard to murmur, \"Soon, soon will the God of all consolation\ncrown his mercy to me and satisfy all my desires. I shall shortly\nbe satiated in him, and drink of the torrent of my delights; be\ninebriated from the abundance of his house; and in him, the source of\nlife, I shall behold the true light.\"\n\nWhen the viaticum was brought to St. Theresa, she rose up in her bed\nand exclaimed, \"My Lord and my Spouse! the desired hour has at length\ncome. It is time for me to depart hence.\" Her confessor asked her if\nshe wished to be buried in her own convent at Avila. She replied,\n\"Have I any thing of my own in this world? Will they not give me\na little earth here?\" She died with the crucifix in her hands,\nrepeating, as long as she could speak, the verse of the Miserere, \"A\ncontrite and humble heart, O God, thou wilt not despise!\"\n\nThere is a touching account of a renowned and pious knight who, in\nthe ages of faith, made a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. Following\nlovingly the traces of our Saviour's steps, his heart became so\nbroken with sorrow and love that his life flowed out through the\nwound. He visited with tender devotion Nazareth, whose hills leaped\nfor joy when the Divine Word became incarnate in the womb of a\nVirgin; Mount Tabor, whose summit was lit up by God glorifying his\nonly Son; the river Jordan, consecrated by the baptism our Lord\nreceived at the hands of St. John the Baptist; Bethlehem, where in a\npoor manger were heard the first cries of the Infant Word; the Garden\nof Gethsemane, which Jesus bedewed with a bloody sweat; Golgotha,\nwhere by his blood the Redeemer reconciled earth with heaven; and\nthe glorious tomb whence the God-man issued triumphant over death.\nFinally, he came to the Mount of Olives. Here contemplating the\nsacred foot-prints left on the rock by the ascending Saviour, he\npressed his lips upon them with loving gratitude; then gathering\ntogether all the strength of his love, raising his eyes and hands\ntoward heaven, and longing to ascend by the way taken by our Saviour,\n\"O Lord Jesus!\" he cried in all the ardor of his love, \"I can no\nlonger find thee or follow thee in this land of exile; grant that my\nheart may ascend to thee on high!\" And, as he uttered these ardent\nwords, his soul fled to God like an arrow direct to its aim.\n\nI find in an old book the following affecting account of the death\nof Friar Benedict, who died at La Trappe on the twentieth of August,\n1674:\n\n     \"Brother Benedict, of the diocese of Rouen, died five years and a\n     half after his profession, the day of the _f\u00eate_ of our father St.\n     Bernard, aged thirty-two years. And as God visited him peculiarly\n     with his grace in the progress of his disease, and at the time\n     of his death, it has been thought desirable, in order both to\n     recognize the mercy of Christ and for the edification of his\n     community, to record the principal circumstances of his life and\n     death.\n\n     \"He fell sick nearly four years before his death of a disease\n     upon his chest, and although, after that time, he was almost\n     continually oppressed with a violent cough, with extreme pain, and\n     with an intermitting fever, he never manifested even the slightest\n     impatience of his suffering or the least desire to be cured.\n     About Christmas of the year 1673, which preceded his death a few\n     months, his disease increased. But he did not cease to discharge\n     the peculiar offices prescribed to penitents in the monastery.\n     The fever which seized him about the middle of Christmas did\n     not prevent his following the same course of life he had long\n     pursued. Five days after Easter, his disease having considerably\n     advanced, the reverend father abbot ordered him to be conducted to\n     the infirmary. There his fever immediately increased, his limbs\n     inflamed, his cough became more violent, and the struggles in\n     which he passed his nights quite exhausted him. Notwithstanding\n     this, he continued to lie on a hard bed of straw till the moment\n     when they removed him to the ashes, five hours before his death.\n     He rose at four in the morning; he dined at the table of the\n     infirmary, though his weakness was such that he was evidently\n     unable to sustain the weight of his own head. During this time\n     nothing was to be discovered upon his countenance which did not\n     evidence the most complete tranquillity. He had been remarkably\n     ingenious, and had nothing about him which he had not both\n     invented and executed. Three weeks before his death, he said to\n     the father abbot that, as he had been in the habit of constructing\n     many things for the convenience of the monastery, and as it might\n     be troublesome to the abbot to find and introduce workmen into\n     the house after his death, he would on this account, if agreeable\n     to the abbot, instruct one of the brothers in his various arts.\n     The abbot having consented, he instructed a monk in less than a\n     fortnight in the different arts in which he had been accustomed\n     to be employed. And notwithstanding his weakness and pain, he did\n     all this with so much patience and collectedness that he seemed\n     to have lost all remembrance of his sufferings. The father abbot,\n     knowing the grace which God had given to him, and the degree in\n     which God had detached him from the world, thought it his duty\n     to follow up what he believed to be the designs of Providence in\n     regard to him. This led him in the various ordinances of religion\n     to maintain all the rigor which charity and prudence would permit;\n     though in all private communications with him he treated him with\n     the tenderness of a father. One day, when so overcome with pain\n     that he could take nothing, he described his state to the father\n     abbot, accompanying his description with certain expressions of\n     countenance which it is almost impossible to restrain in such\n     circumstances. The father abbot, however, said with severity,\n     (as though he had no compassion for those sufferings in which he\n     sympathized so truly,) that 'he spoke like a man of the world,\n     and that a monk ought to manifest under the worst circumstances\n     the constancy of his soul.' Benedict in an instant assumed that\n     air of severity that never afterward quitted him. The fear lest\n     the great exertions which he made by day and by night, combined\n     with his extreme debility, might suddenly remove him, led them to\n     give him the holy sacrament and extreme unction. He received both\n     with every demonstration of piety. Such, however, was his weakness\n     that he immediately fainted away. The father abbot having asked,\n     before they brought him the extreme unction, if he desired that\n     the whole community should be present at the ceremony, he answered\n     that, 'exterior ceremonies were not of vital importance; that\n     his brethren would derive little edification from him; and that\n     he had more need of their prayers than their presence.' All his\n     conversation during his malady was on the necessity of separation\n     from worldly things, of the joy which he anticipated in death, and\n     of the mercy which God had shown him in suffering him to end his\n     days in the society of the father abbot.\n\n     \"Some days before his death, the father abbot inquired minutely\n     into the state of his mind; he answered in these very words, 'I\n     consider the day of my death as a festival; I have no desire for\n     any thing here, and I cannot better express my total separation\n     from things below than by comparing myself to a leaf which the\n     wind has lifted from the earth. All that I have read in the sacred\n     Scriptures comes home to me and fills me with joy. Nevertheless,\n     I can in no action of my life see any thing which can sustain\n     the judgment of God, and which is not worthy of punishment; but\n     the confidence which I have in his goodness gives me hope and\n     consolation.' He added, 'How can it be that God should show such\n     compassion to a man who has so miserably served him? I desire\n     death alone; what can a man be thinking of, not always to desire\n     it? What joy, my father, when I remember that I am about to\n     refresh myself in the waters of life.'\n\n     \"His ordinary reading, for many years of his life, had been the\n     sacred Scriptures, which were so familiar to him that he spoke of\n     little else. He mentioned to the father abbot so many passages,\n     and repeated them in a manner so touching, so animated, and so\n     devotional, that his hearers were at once edified and astonished.\n     Those passages which were uppermost in his mind respected chiefly\n     the majesty of God; but as he had a most humble opinion of his own\n     life, which had however been, in the main, faithful and pure, he\n     always reverted to the subject of the divine compassion. It was in\n     that he found peace and repose.\n\n     \"On the day of the Assumption, he felt himself so weak that he\n     was unable to leave the infirmary. The father abbot carried him\n     our Lord, whom he received upon his knees, leaning on two of his\n     brethren. Two days afterward, he fell into strong convulsions, and\n     imagined that the hour of his deliverance was come. The father\n     abbot asked, 'Is it with joy that you depart?' 'Yes,' said he,\n     'from my very heart.' He then added, 'Into thy hands I commend my\n     spirit.'\n\n     \"The customary prayers were then offered up for the dying; but\n     the convulsions having left him, the father abbot said that the\n     hour of God was not arrived; and having given orders to remove\n     him from the ashes to his bed, he turned to the father abbot\n     with a serene countenance, and said, 'The will of God be done.'\n     He lived three days waiting with anxiety the time when God would\n     have mercy upon him. And such was his desire of death that the\n     father abbot was obliged more than once to say to him that it was\n     not for him to anticipate the designs of Providence. His pangs\n     lasted till within an hour of his death, but he endured them with\n     his accustomed patience and serenity. He said three days before\n     his death that the most dangerous moments were the last, and that\n     he did not doubt the great enemy of man would seek to disquiet\n     him, and therefore requested the prayers of the community. The\n     father abbot, having asked, after some other general discourse,\n     if he knew the guilt of sin, he answered sighing, and, as it\n     were, looking into the recesses of his own soul, and in language\n     expressive of the intensity of his feelings, 'Alas! once I knew\n     it not; but now I see in the Scripture that God claims, as one of\n     his chief attributes, the power of pardoning sin; \"I am he who\n     blotteth out your iniquities.\" I am therefore convinced that sin\n     is a tremendous offence. I am far, indeed, from being like those\n     who are always overwhelmed with a consciousness of their offences,\n     but yet I believe, upon the testimony of faith and Scripture, that\n     sin is a fathomless gulf of ruin.' These words were accompanied\n     with a manner so extraordinary that they touched the very hearts\n     of those who surrounded him.\n\n     \"His bones having pierced his skin, and his shirt of serge\n     sticking to his wounds, he begged them to move him a little; but\n     at the end of the day, when the person who had the care of him\n     wished again to ease his body, he said, 'My brother, you give me\n     too much ease.' The father abbot having ordered some milk to be\n     brought him, which was the only nourishment he took, he said,\n     'You wish then, my father, to prolong my life, and are unwilling\n     I should die on the day of St. Bernard.' The father abbot having\n     quitted him, he begged, perceiving that his death approached, that\n     he might be called back. As soon as he saw him, he said, 'Father,\n     my eyes fail me--it is finished.' The father having asked him\n     in what state he found himself, and if he was about to approach\n     Christ, 'Yes, father,' said he, 'by the grace of God, I am. I am\n     not indeed sensible of any extraordinary elevation of my mind to\n     God; but through his mercy I am in perfect peace. God be thanked!'\n     This he repeated three times. The father abbot having asked him if\n     he wished to die upon the cross and upon the ashes, 'Yes,' said\n     he, 'from my heart.' With these words he lost his speech, or, at\n     all events, it was impossible to hear any thing intelligible from\n     him except the name of Jesus, which he pronounced repeatedly. They\n     carried him to the straw spread out in his chamber. He was nearly\n     four hours in a dying state, and preserved his recollection during\n     the whole time. His eyes indicating a wandering state of mind,\n     the father arose, took some holy water, and, having scattered\n     it around him, repeated these words, 'Let God arise and let\n     his enemies be scattered.' His face at this moment resumed its\n     serenity. He kissed the cross several times, and, wanting strength\n     to lay hold of it, they observed that he advanced his head to\n     reverence it every time that it was presented to him. At length\n     all his disquietudes ceased; they beheld him calm, peaceful,\n     serene; and he breathed his last sigh with so much tranquillity\n     that those who watched him scarcely perceived his death.\"\n\nWhen William the Conqueror was on his death-bed, he confessed all the\nsins of his life, from his youth up, aloud and before a large number\nof priests and nobles from England and Normandy. We read that, after\na long agony, on Thursday, the ninth of September, as the sun rose in\nglorious splendor, William awoke, and presently heard the great bell\nof the metropolitan church. He asked why it was ringing. \"Seigneur,\"\nreplied his servants, \"it is ringing for prime at the church of our\nLady St. Mary.\" Then the king raised his eyes to heaven and, lifting\nup his hands, said, \"I recommend myself to holy Mary, Mother of God,\nthat by her holy prayers she may reconcile me to her dear and beloved\nSon, our Lord Jesus Christ.\" With these words he expired.[43]\n\nPeter, King of Aragon, at the approach of death, devoutly confessed\nall his sins and received the sacraments. After bidding his family\nfarewell, he took a cross in his hands, lifted his streaming eyes\nto heaven, crossed himself three times, kissed the cross, and then\nsaid, \"O Lord our Father, Jesus Christ our true God! into thy hands\nI commend my spirit. Deign by thy holy passion to receive my soul\ninto paradise with the blessed St. Martin, whose festival Christians\nthis day celebrate.\" And with his eyes still raised heavenward, he\ndeparted.[44]\n\nWhen James, an unlearned lay brother of the order of St. Francis,\ncame to die, he begged pardon of all his brethren, took a wooden\ncross from the head of his bed, kissed it, put it to his eyes, and\nthen said, with tenderness, \"Dulce lignum, dulces clavos, dulcia\nferens pondera, qu\u00e6 sola fuisti digna sustinere Regem coelorum et\nDominum,\" \"O sweet wood, sweet nails, supporting a sweet burden! Thou\nalone wast worthy to sustain the King and Lord of the heavens.\" All\naround him were greatly astonished, for he was unlearned, and they\nhad never heard him speak in Latin.[45]\n\nWe read in the life of St. Gertrude of the death of a young person,\nwho from her infancy upward had always shown a real spirit of\ndetachment from the world. When she found herself in the agony of\ndeath, she bade farewell to all who were present, promising to be\nmindful of them before God. Then turning in her sufferings toward the\nHeavenly Bridegroom, she earnestly said, \"O Lord, who knowest the\nmost secret thoughts of my heart, thou hast known how eagerly I have\nlonged to spend all the powers of my being, even unto old age, in thy\nservice; now that I feel thou desirest to recall me to thyself, all\nmy desire of serving thee in this world is changed to such an ardent\nlonging to behold thee, and be united to thee, that death, however\nbitter it may be to others, only seems sweet to me.\" She wished the\nsisters to read to her the account of the sufferings of our Saviour\nin the Gospel of St. John, and when they came to the words, \"He\nbowed his head and gave up the ghost,\" she asked for a crucifix. She\nlovingly kissed the feet of the image of our Saviour, thanked him for\nhis graces, commended her soul to his care, and then slept peacefully\nin our Lord.\n\nOur own Mother Seton, though she saw the intense grief of all the\ncommunity, and heard the sobs of her daughter, who fainted at her\nside, died with the most profound composure. Her whole appearance\nindicated peace and resignation. Lifting her hands and eyes to\nheaven, she said, \"May the most just, the most high, and the most\namiable will of God be accomplished for ever.\" Her last words were\nthe sacred names of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.\n\nThe poet Tasso, when informed that his last hour was at hand,\nnot only received the warning without alarm, but, embracing the\nphysician, thanked him for tidings so agreeable, and, raising his\neyes to heaven, returned tender and devout thanks to his Creator\nthat, after so tempestuous a life, he now brought him to a calm\nhaven. From this time he did not speak willingly on terrestrial\nsubjects, not even of that fame after death of which through life\nhe had been most solicitous; but resigned himself wholly and with\nthe liveliest devotion to the last solemn offices prescribed by his\nreligion. After confessing with great contrition, and receiving twice\nthe sacrament with a reverence and humility that affected all the\nbeholders, he received the papal benediction humbly and gratefully,\nsaying this was the chariot upon which he hoped to go crowned, not\nwith laurel as a poet into the capital, but with glory as a saint to\nheaven. When he had arranged all his earthly affairs, he begged to be\nleft alone with his crucifix and one or two spiritual advisers, who\nby turns sung psalms, in which he sometimes joined. When his voice\nfailed, his eyes still remained fixed upon the image of the crucified\nRedeemer. His last act was to embrace it closely. His last words,\n\"Into thy hands, O Lord.\"\n\nI quote the following account of the death of the great Raphael, in\nthe form of a letter from Cardinal Bibbiena:\n\n     \"As I entered, he held in his hand a few spring flowers, which\n     he let fall as I handed him the rosary. He pressed the cross to\n     his lips and whispered, 'Maria.' His voice had a peculiar sound,\n     clear but so low as to be scarcely audible. In the sick-room I\n     found Count Castiglione, the good fathers Antonio and Domenico,\n     the painter Giulio, and others. They had moved his couch to\n     the window which stood wide open. Was it the effect of the\n     softening light or of the approaching triumph? Raphael had never\n     appeared more beautiful. His complexion was more roseate, and his\n     thoughtful, brown artist-eyes larger and more luminous than usual.\n     I told him what his holiness had requested me to say.\n\n     \"'And so, dear Raphael,' I concluded, 'may the sympathy which the\n     highest as well as the lowest feels for you, have the power to\n     keep you long with us!'\n\n     \"He smiled sadly.\n\n     \"'You will, you must!' broke in Castiglione. 'Think what a longing\n     for art your attainments have awakened within us. Think of your\n     favorite plan to rebuild classical Rome, with its marble palaces\n     and temples, its triumphal arches and picture galleries!'\n\n     \"'Yes, I desired it,' replied he; 'and if God had granted me\n     longer life, I should have succeeded.'\n\n     \"'Do you still speak,' said I reproachfully, 'as if you would\n     never recover?'\n\n     \"'O father!' said he, 'the separation is not easy for me. If I\n     could describe to you the longing which I have to retain the\n     departing day! How my heart cherished the last ray of the sun that\n     lingered on the hill! How beautiful is the world, how beautiful\n     the faces of men! And now to take leave of them for ever--to sleep\n     without hope of seeing the morrow!'\n\n     \"'Beloved,' said I, 'do not forget that to-day the Saviour died,\n     that we might throw off this mortal life and put on immortality.'\n\n     \"'How should I forget Him from whom I have received every thing?'\n     he answered softly. 'But even this mortal life was beautiful.'\n\n     \"There was a moment's silence. Castiglione had taken Raphael's\n     hand. The latter was looking through the open window at the\n     distant hills that were lit up with the soft glow of the setting\n     sun. Then his glance wandered, evidently in the direction of his\n     thoughts, to the blue heavens, where the evening star looked down\n     quietly like a messenger from the other world.\n\n     \"'I shall see Dante,' said he suddenly.\n\n     \"At this moment one of those present took the cover from Raphael's\n     last picture, which hung on the wall opposite the couch. It is, as\n     you know, an altar-piece--the _Transfiguration_. The sight of the\n     immortal work, the dying master, the subject of the picture, and\n     all remembrances associated therewith, overpowered us, and we wept\n     aloud.\n\n     \"His features began to change quickly, he spoke still, but wearily\n     and without connection, though in significant phrases. Twice we\n     heard those words of Plato, 'Great is the hope, and beautiful the\n     prize!' He mentioned your name, too, and begged that you would lay\n     your hand on his head.... The painter Giulio threw himself on the\n     couch and wept in agony. I asked the others to kneel with me and\n     pray for the dying.\n\n     \"Once more Raphael revived, and, supported by two friends, arose\n     and looked around with wide-open eyes.\n\n     \"'Whence comes the sunshine?' murmured he.\n\n     \"'Raphael!' cried I, and extended both hands toward him, 'do you\n     recognize me?' For a moment it seemed as if he had not heard me,\n     then he spoke again, and the holy calm of his expression, in spite\n     of the death-struggle, bore testimony to his words, 'Happy.'...\n     He did not speak again; but it was full night when a voice broke\n     through the long stillness, 'Raphael is dead!'\"\n\nHe died on Good-Friday, 1520, aged thirty-seven.\n\nBesides these holy and edifying deaths, which might be continued\nindefinitely, we all have treasured up in our heart of hearts the\nsacred memory of some dear ones whose last words will go on vibrating\nin our hearts for ever.\n\n    \"Oh! soothe us, haunt us, night and day,\n    Ye gentle spirits far away,\n    With whom ye shared the cup of grace,\n    Then parted; ye to Christ's embrace,\n    We to the lonesome world again;\n    Yet mindful of the unearthly strain\n    Practised with you at Eden's door,\n    To be sung on, where angels soar\n    With blended voices evermore.\"\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[38] Faber.\n\n[39] Butler.\n\n[40] Mrs. Jameson.\n\n[41] Lingard.\n\n[42] _Life of St. Wilfrid._\n\n[43] Digby.\n\n[44] Ibid.\n\n[45] Digby.\n\n\n\n\nREPLY OF THE PRESBYTERIAN ASSEMBLIES TO THE POPE'S LETTER.\n\n\n     \"TO PIUS IX., BISHOP OF ROME:\n\n     \"In your encyclical letter, dated Sept. 13th, 1868, you invite\n     'all Protestants' to 'embrace the opportunity' presented by the\n     council summoned to meet in the city of Rome during the month of\n     December of the current year, to 'return to the only one fold,'\n     intending thereby, as the connection implies, the Roman Catholic\n     Church. That letter has been brought to the notice of the two\n     General Assemblies of the Presbyterian Church in the United States\n     of America. Those assemblies represent nearly five thousand\n     ministers of the gospel, and a still larger number of Christian\n     congregations.\n\n     \"Believing, as we do, that it is the will of Christ that his\n     church on earth should be one; and recognizing the duty of\n     doing all we consistently can to promote Christian charity and\n     fellowship, we deem it right to say in few words why we cannot\n     comply with your invitation, or participate in the deliberations\n     of the approaching council.\n\n     \"It is not because we reject any article of the Catholic faith.\n     We are not heretics; we receive all the doctrines contained in\n     the ancient symbol known as the Apostles' Creed; we regard as\n     consistent with Scripture the doctrinal decisions of the first six\n     oecumenical councils; and because of that consistency we receive\n     those decisions as expressing our own faith. We believe the\n     doctrines of the Trinity and Person of Christ as those doctrines\n     are set forth by the Council of Nice, A.D. 325; by that of\n     Chalcedon, A.D. 451; and by that of Constantinople, A.D. 680.\n\n     \"With the whole Catholic Church, therefore, we believe that\n     there are three persons in the Godhead, the Father, the Son, and\n     the Holy Ghost; and that these three are one God, the same in\n     substance, and equal in power and glory.\n\n     \"We believe that the Eternal Son of God became man by taking\n     to himself a true body and a reasonable soul; and so was, and\n     continues to be, both God and man, in two distinct natures and one\n     person for ever. We believe that our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ\n     is the Prophet of God, whose teachings we are bound to receive,\n     and in whose promises we confide. He is the high-priest of our\n     profession, whose infinitely meritorious satisfaction to divine\n     justice, and whose ever-prevalent intercession is the only ground\n     of our justification and acceptance before God. He is our King, to\n     whom our allegiance is due, not only as his creatures, but as the\n     purchase of his blood. To his authority we submit; in his care we\n     trust; and to his service we and all creatures in heaven and earth\n     should be devoted.\n\n     \"We believe, moreover, all those doctrines concerning sin, grace,\n     and predestination, known in history as Augustinian. Those\n     doctrines were sanctioned by the Council of Carthage, A.D. 416; by\n     a more general council in the same place, A.D. 418; by Zosimus,\n     Bishop of Rome, A.D. 418; and by the third Oecumenical Council at\n     Ephesus, A.D. 481. It is impossible, therefore, that we should be\n     pronounced heretical without including the whole ancient church\n     in the same condemnation. We not only 'glory in the name of\n     Christians, but profess the true faith of Christ, and follow the\n     communion of the Catholic Church.' Still further to quote your own\n     words, 'Truth must continue ever stable and not subject to any\n     change.'\n\n     \"Neither are we schismatics. We believe in true 'Catholic unity.'\n     We cordially recognize as members of Christ's visible church on\n     earth all who profess the true religion, together with their\n     children. We are not only willing, but earnestly desire, to\n     maintain Christian communion with them, provided they do not\n     prescribe as a condition of such communion that we should profess\n     what the word of God condemns, or do what that word forbids. If\n     any church prescribes unscriptural conditions of fellowship, the\n     error and the fault are with such church, and not with us.\n\n     \"But, although neither heretics nor schismatics, we cannot\n     accept your invitation, because we still hold the principles\n     which prompted our 'ancestors,' in the name of primitive\n     Christianity, and in defence of the 'true faith,' bravely to\n     protest against the errors and abuses which had been foisted\n     upon the church--principles for which our fathers were, by the\n     Council of Trent, representing the church over which you preside,\n     excommunicated and pronounced accursed. The most important of\n     those principles are the following:\n\n     \"FIRST. That the word of God, as contained in the Scriptures of\n     the Old and New Testament, is the only infallible rule of faith\n     and practice. The Council of Trent, however, demands that we\n     receive, _pari pietatis affectu_, the teachings of tradition as\n     supplementing and interpreting the written word of God. This\n     we cannot do without incurring the condemnation which our Lord\n     pronounced on the Pharisees when he said, 'Ye make void the word\n     of God by your traditions.'\n\n     \"SECOND. The right of private judgment. When we open the\n     Scriptures, we find them addressed to the people. They speak to\n     us; they command us to search their sacred pages; they require\n     us to believe what they teach, and to do what they enjoin; they\n     hold us personally responsible for our faith and conduct. The\n     promise of the inward teaching of the Spirit to guide men into the\n     knowledge of the truth, is made to the people of God; not to the\n     clergy exclusively; much less to any special order of the clergy\n     alone. The Apostle John says to believers, 'Ye have an unction\n     from the Holy One, and know all things; and the anointing which\n     ye have received of him abideth with you, and ye have not need\n     that any man teach you.' (1 John ii. 20 and 27.) The Apostle Paul\n     commands us (the people) to pronounce accursed an apostle, or an\n     angel from heaven, who teaches any thing contrary to the divinely\n     authenticated word of God. (Gal. i. 8.) He makes the people the\n     judges of truth and error as accountable to God only; he places\n     the rule of judgment in their hands, and holds them responsible\n     for their decisions. Private judgment, therefore, is not only a\n     right, but a duty, from which no man can exonerate himself or be\n     exonerated by others.\n\n     \"THIRD. We believe in the universal priesthood of believers; that\n     is, that all men have, through Christ, access by one Spirit unto\n     the Father. (Eph. ii. 18.) They need no human priest to secure\n     their access to God. Every man for himself may come with boldness\n     to the throne of grace to obtain mercy and find grace to help in\n     time of need. (Heb. iv. 16.) 'Having, therefore, boldness to enter\n     into the holiest by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way,\n     ... and having a High-Priest over the house of God, we may all\n     draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, having\n     our hearts sprinkled from an evil conscience, and our bodies\n     washed with pure water.' (Heb. x. 19-22.) To admit, therefore,\n     the priesthood of the clergy, whose intervention is necessary to\n     secure for the people the remission of sins and other benefits of\n     redeeming grace, we regard as involving either the rejection of\n     the priesthood of Christ, or a denial of its sufficiency.\n\n     \"FOURTH. We deny the perpetuity of the apostleship. As no man can\n     be a prophet without the spirit of prophecy, so no man can be an\n     apostle without the gifts of an apostle. Those gifts, as we learn\n     from Scripture, are plenary knowledge of the gospel, derived by\n     immediate revelation from Christ, (Gal. i. 12,) and personal\n     infallibility in teaching and ruling. What are the seals of the\n     apostleship, we learn from what St. Paul says to the Corinthians,\n     'Truly the signs of an apostle were wrought among you in all\n     patience, in signs, in wonders, in mighty deeds.' (2 Cor. xii.\n     12.) Modern prelates, although they claim apostolic authority,\n     do not pretend to possess the gifts on which that authority was\n     founded; nor do they venture to exhibit the 'signs' by which\n     the commission of the messengers of Christ was authenticated.\n     We cannot, therefore, recognize them, either individually or\n     collectively, as the infallible teachers and rulers of the church.\n\n     \"Much less can we acknowledge the Bishop of Rome to be Christ's\n     vicar upon earth, possessing 'supreme rule.' We acknowledge our\n     adorable Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ to be the only head of the\n     church, which is his body. We believe that although now enthroned\n     at the right hand of the Majesty on high, he is still present with\n     his people on earth, whom he governs by his word, providence, and\n     spirit. We cannot, therefore, put any creature in his place, or\n     render to a man the obedience which is due to Christ alone.\n\n     \"As the Church of Rome excommunicates all those who profess the\n     principles above enumerated; as we regard these principles to be\n     of vital importance, and intend to assert them more earnestly\n     than ever; as God appears to have given his seal and sanction to\n     these principles by making the countries where they are held the\n     leaders in civilization--the most eminent for liberty, order,\n     intelligence, and all forms of private and social prosperity--it\n     is evident that the barrier between us and you is, at present,\n     insurmountable.\n\n     \"Although this letter is not intended to be either objurgatory\n     or controversial, it is known to all the world that there are\n     doctrines and usages of the church over which you preside which\n     Protestants believe to be not only unscriptural, but contrary\n     to the faith and practice of the early church. Some of those\n     doctrines and usages are the following, namely, The doctrine of\n     transubstantiation and the sacrifice of the mass; the adoration\n     of the host; the power of judicial absolution, (which places\n     the salvation of the people in the hands of the priests;) the\n     doctrine of the grace of orders, that is, that supernatural power\n     and influence are conferred in ordination by the imposition of\n     hands; the doctrine of purgatory; the worship of the Virgin Mary;\n     the invocation of saints; the worship of images; the doctrine of\n     reserve and of implicit faith, and the consequent withholding the\n     Scriptures from the people, etc.\n\n     \"So long as the profession of such doctrines and submission\n     to such usages are required, it is obvious that there is an\n     impassable gulf between us and the church by which such demands\n     are made.\n\n     \"While loyalty to Christ, obedience to the holy Scriptures,\n     consistent respect for the early councils of the church, and the\n     firm belief that pure 'religion is the foundation of all human\n     society,' compel us to withdraw from fellowship with the Church of\n     Rome, we, nevertheless, desire to live in charity with all men. We\n     love all who love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity. We cordially\n     recognize as Christian brethren all who worship, trust, and serve\n     him as their God and Saviour according to the inspired word. And\n     we hope to be united in heaven with all those who unite with us on\n     earth in saying, 'Unto him who loved us, and washed us from our\n     sins in his own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto\n     God--to him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen.' (Rev.\n     i. 6.)\n\n     \"Signed in behalf of the two General Assemblies of the\n     Presbyterian Church in the United States of America.\n\n                    \"M. W. JACOBUS, PH. H. FOWLER,\n\n                                   \"_Moderators_.\"\n\nWe will preface our remarks upon the foregoing document by a few\nwords of explanation to our European readers respecting the bodies\nwhose joint manifesto it is.\n\nThe Presbyterians of the United States are quite distinct from the\nCongregationalists of New England, the descendants of the English\nPuritans, although the two fraternize together to a great extent.\nThe Presbyterian Church is the daughter of the Kirk of Scotland,\nhaving its home in the Middle States, whence it has spread through\nthe country, especially toward the West. Its government is more\nvigorous than that of any other church except the Methodist, and its\ndoctrinal strictness surpasses that of all other large societies.\nIts clergy number about five thousand, having, we believe, somewhere\nnear a half a million of communicants, and three or four times as\nmany members in a looser sense. It is, on the whole, the first\ndenomination as regards respectability, taking the country generally,\nand in all its periods of history; and, if we reckon its allies,\nthe Dutch Reformed and Congregationalist societies, with it, as\nrepresenting the Calvinistic phase of Protestantism, this is the\nsystem which has possessed the same vantage-ground in the British\ncolonies of the United States that the Episcopal Church has taken in\nEngland.[46] Some thirty years ago, the Presbyterian body split into\ntwo great divisions by means of a dispute about rigid and moderate\nCalvinism, and rigid or lax enforcement of the Presbyterian polity.\nThe two General Assemblies which recently met in this city adopted\na plan of reunion which will probably receive general acceptance,\nand fuse the Old and New School Presbyterians together again in one\nbody. The letter to the pope proceeds from the two assemblies, acting\nthrough their respective moderators in virtue of a resolution which\npassed both houses, which explains the fact that it is signed by two\ndistinct presiding officers. With these few prefatory remarks, we\npass to the consideration of the document itself.\n\nWe are very glad that the Presbyterian Assemblies have replied to\nthe pontifical letter. We are sure that all calmly-reflecting persons\nwill agree that in doing so they have fulfilled an obligation of\n_biens\u00e9ance_ required by a sense both of the dignity of the Roman see\nand of their own respectability. They have shown, therefore, more\ncourtesy and more self-respect than either the Eastern patriarchs\nor the Protestant Episcopal bishops, and, so to speak, have taken\nthe water of their haughty rival, the General Convention. The tone\nof the document is remarkably dignified and courteous, and it will\nundoubtedly be so considered by the prelates of the council and the\nHoly Father. We would suggest to the gentlemen whose signatures are\nappended the propriety of making an authentic translation of the\ndocument into the Latin language, and of sending this, with the\noriginal, in an official manner, properly certified, to Rome. The\neditor of the _Evangelist_ seems to apprehend that the addressing of\nthis letter to the pope might be deemed officious or impertinent. We\ncan assure him, however, and all other persons concerned, that this\nis by no means the case. The address of the pope to all Christians\nnot in his communion was no mere formality, but perfectly sincere\nand in earnest. The Nestorian and Eutychian, as well as the Greek\nbishops, were invited to present themselves at the council, although\nthese are far less orthodox on the fundamental doctrines of the\nTrinity and Incarnation than the Presbyterian Assemblies have proved\nthemselves to be, by their full confession of agreement with the\nfaith of the Roman Church on these articles. It is true that the\nabove-mentioned bishops were invited on a different footing--not\nmerely as Christians, but as bishops. The reason of this is, that\ntheir episcopal character is recognized and does not need to be\nproved. Therefore, all they have to do is to purge themselves of\nheresy and schism in order to be entitled, _ipso facto_, to take\ntheir places as constituent members of the council, with the right\nof voting, which will most certainly not be otherwise conceded\nto them. The Protestant bishops could not be invited as bishops,\nbecause their episcopal character is not recognized. If some of\nthem should appear to put in their claim, we have no doubt, from\nthe tenor of letters published in the English Catholic papers,\nthat they would be received with great respect and consideration,\nand be allowed to argue their cause either before the council or\na special congregation. It is not yet too late for some of them,\nwho have sufficient courage and confidence in their cause, to do\nit, and we hope they will. Presbyterian Protestants make no claim\nto episcopal succession or ordination. Consequently they, by their\nown admission, must be regarded by the council, and by all who\nadhere to the hierarchical principle on which the first six councils\nwere constituted, as destitute of any right to a position above\nthat of laymen. Nevertheless, they are the heads and teachers of\nlarge and respectable societies, equal in point of fact, in our\njudgment, to those who call themselves bishops or presbyters in\nepiscopally-governed Protestant societies, and therefore entitled to\nrespect and consideration. No doubt they would receive all this were\nthey to present themselves at the council as representatives of their\nreligious societies. Of course, a council cannot consent to treat as\nopen questions any matters already defined by previous councils, or\nenter into a controversial discussion of doctrines with men who, like\nDr. Cumming, would wish to go there as champions of Protestantism.\nThe only attitude in which it would be proper to appear at a council\nwould be that of persons asking for an explanation of the Catholic\ndoctrines, and of the motives on which they are based, which implies\na disposition to reconsider anew the grounds of the original\nseparation. That this disposition does not exist at present very\nextensively we are well aware, and cannot, therefore, expect that\nthere will be at the approaching council any thing like a conference\nof the heads of Protestantism with the Catholic prelates. There may\nbe other councils, however, at no very distant period, where this\nmay take place with very great advantage, and with the happiest\nresults in reuniting all Christians within the one fold of Christ's\nchurch. It is something, however, to get from a great religious\nsociety like the Presbyterian body of the United States a formal\nstatement of the reasons why they remain separated from the Catholic\nChurch, in the shape of a letter to the pope. Such a statement has\nvery great interest and great weight, and the document before us\nis certainly far superior to the encyclical of the Pan-Anglican\nSynod, or the other manifestoes of a similar kind which have been\nissued from various Protestant assemblies. The amiable editor of the\n_Evangelist_ compares it to \"a hand of iron under a velvet glove.\"\nWe will venture, however, until some stronger and more authoritative\nhand shall be stretched out to measure strength with it, to submit\nour own, though a small one, to its grasp, wearing a glove of the\nsame material. We do this without fear and without ill-will, though\nour remarks are only those of a private individual, having no force\nbeyond the reason that is in them. We do it the more readily, and\nwith greater interest, as the writer of this article is the son of a\nformer moderator of one of these assemblies, and is indebted to that\nrespectable body for some special prayers which it charitably offered\nfor his spiritual welfare.\n\nThe first and most striking feature noticeable in the letter is the\nexculpation from heresy and schism which it puts forward. Nothing\ncould show more clearly that the compilers feel that there is a\n_prima-facie_ case against them. They are in the attitude of men\nwho have broken off from the body of Christendom, separated from\nthe communion which once included all Christians, and put forth\na doctrine special to themselves, thus \"condemned by their own\njudgment,\"[47] as St. Paul says is characteristic of those who turn\naside from sound doctrine. We do not judge any one individual among\nthe Presbyterians to be a formal heretic or schismatic. The authors\nof the separation lived centuries ago, and men of this generation\nhave been placed in their state of separation by the act of their\nancestors. We speak, therefore, only of material heresy and schism,\nnot in an offensive sense, but from the necessity of being distinct\nand adhering to the phraseology which the document before us itself\nuses. We are obliged to say, therefore, that the very exculpation\nit presents is a proof of the existence of that state of heresy and\nschism which is denied. The fact of having departed from the doctrine\nand communion in which the authors of Presbyterianism were educated,\nand which is that of the great body of Christians descending in\nunbroken continuity from the past, is acknowledged. The excuse given\nis, that the church had erred, added to the faith, changed the law,\nand was therefore herself responsible. The very justification which\nis made establishes the truth of the charge. It establishes the fact\nthat particular members of the church set up a private doctrine and\na private organization against the Catholic doctrine and communion,\nwhich is precisely what is meant by heresy and schism.\n\nIt is thus that a person who refuses to submit to the judgment\nof the church judges himself. So long as he professes to submit\nto the church, and disputes not the binding authority of her\ndoctrines, but their proper sense and meaning, his case is one for\nadjudication, like that of Pelagius; but as soon as he rejects\nthe acknowledged doctrine of the church, defined by a competent\ntribunal, as erroneous, he at once pronounces himself an alien from\nthe commonwealth, and by his own sentence forfeits all the rights\nof his citizenship in it. The Presbyterian judicatories act on this\nprinciple. The test of heresy with them is denial of the doctrines\ndefined in their confession of faith. The individual, or even the\ncongregation, is not the final authority. The presbytery, the synod,\nthe general assembly, are all legislative and judicial courts,\ndeciding questions of doctrine and discipline with authority, and\nexacting submission from each individual clergyman and layman as a\ncondition of church fellowship. They avow, therefore, and act on\nthe principle, that the revolt of the individual against church\ndiscipline is, _ipso facto_, schism, and his revolt against church\ndoctrine, _ipso facto_ heresy; so that by his very declaration, that\nhe is in the right and the church in the wrong, he judges himself\nas a schismatic or heretic. Yet they themselves in judging their\nown refractory members have given a far more signal example of that\nself-judgment which St. Paul speaks of. For they have acted in the\nsame manner toward the church universal as their own condemned\nmembers have acted toward them, and have thus sentenced themselves\nin pronouncing upon these their ecclesiastical censure.\n\nThis principle is capable of a more amplified statement and\napplication. Heresy consists essentially in the denial of a part of\nthe Catholic faith, coupled with the profession of the remaining\nparts. It is an affirmation and negation, in the same breath, of\nthe same principles. It is, therefore, self-judged, because the\naffirmation which it makes in general terms of the truth of the\nCatholic faith, and of a greater or lesser number of the distinct\ndogmas of the faith, condemns and contradicts the denial which it\nmakes of some one or more particular doctrines of the same faith.\nMoreover, every sect condemns all the other errors condemned\nby the church, except its own; so that, taking all heresies in\nthe aggregate, they condemn and destroy each other; according\nto the declaration of holy Scripture, _mentita est iniquitas\nsibi_--unrighteousness has proved false to itself.\n\nWe find, therefore, that the spokesmen of the Presbyterian assemblies\nadmit the obligation of Catholic unity, profess their belief in\nthe Catholic church and the Catholic faith, and yet do not venture\nto assert that the Presbyterian family is the Catholic Church, its\ndoctrine the Catholic faith; that it possesses unity in itself, and\nthat all those Christians who are separated from it are bound to\nseek admission into its fold. They take what they implicitly admit\nto be an exceptional, abnormal position; they profess themselves to\nbe only a fragmentary portion of Christendom, and excuse themselves\nfor their isolation on the plea that there is a chasm separating\nthem from the great mass of Christians which they cannot pass. When\nwe examine the special points made in this plea more closely, we\nfind that all the positive affirmations of doctrine are affirmations\nof truths held in common with the Catholic Church, and that all the\nstatements peculiar to the authors of the document are protests or\nnegations. The Trinity, Incarnation, Redemption, etc., are palpably\nCatholic doctrines. The Augustinian doctrines of sin, grace, and\npredestination, so far as they are the statements or definitions\nof Catholic faith in opposition to the heresy of Pelagius, are\ndogmas, and so far as they are the opinions of a school, are sound\nopinions, though open to discussion. No Catholic writer ever dreamed\nof censuring them as heretical. The inspiration and infallibility\nof the holy Scriptures, the priesthood of all Christians, the\nright and duty of private judgment, the illumination and inward\nguidance of individual believers by the Holy Spirit, are all sound\nCatholic doctrines, when properly explained and harmonized with\nother doctrines. These are the principal positive statements of\nthe document, and they add nothing whatever in the shape of new,\nliving, constructive principle of belief or organization to that\nsum of truth which the Presbyterians have received from the old\ntradition. Although some of the negations of Catholic doctrine are\nput in a positive form, yet it is only the mode of expression which\nis positive, while the substance of the proposition is a negation.\nFor instance, the proposition that Scripture is the sole authority,\nso far as it enunciates a truth which is positive, declares the\ninspiration and infallibility of the Scripture; but so far as it\ngoes beyond that declaration, is really a negation of the authority\nof the unwritten word, expressed in the form of an affirmation that\nthe Scripture is the _sole_ authority. So, also, the whole of what\nis peculiar to the Presbyterian doctrine as distinguished from\nthe Catholic, in the affirmation of the universal priesthood, the\nrights of individual reason, the inward light of the Holy Spirit, is\nderived from a negation of the hierarchical and sacerdotal orders,\nthe authority of the church, and her infallibility. Then follows a\nlong list of Catholic doctrines which are denied, and which the Roman\nChurch is accused of having added to the ancient creed. We cannot be\nexpected to go into the details of these doctrines singly, for the\npurpose of proving that the church has defined and proposed them on\nsufficient motives.\n\nThere are plenty of books in which the reverend gentlemen of the\nPresbyterian Church, and the intelligent laymen who adhere to\nthat communion, can find the full and complete statement, with\nthe proofs, of every portion of Catholic doctrine and discipline.\nFor certain portions of it, they need not look beyond the bounds\nof Protestantism. The divines of the Church of England, and the\ncontroversial writers of the High-Church party in the United States,\nhave proved the hierarchical principle, the episcopal succession,\nthe grace of the sacraments, the real presence, and other doctrines\nakin to these, with solid arguments from Scripture and history which\nthe advocates of Presbyterianism have never been able to refute. A\nsection of the clergy of another Presbyterian communion, to wit, the\nGerman Reformed, have been led by their study of Scripture and the\nancient authors to adopt and advocate similar principles totally\ncontrary to those of the reverend moderators. They certainly cannot\nput forth their statements, therefore, as certain and evident facts\nor truths, admitted by all who have studied the Scriptures and\nancient authors, even among Protestants. Their reiteration of them\nconsequently establishes nothing, proves nothing; in no wise can be\nalleged as a justification of their position. It is a mere defining\nof their position, which gives no new information whatever to any\nperson, and therefore the discussion may justly be relegated to the\narena of regular polemics.\n\nSo far as the reverend doctors have made use of arguments, however,\nit is proper that we should pay some attention to these, and this\nthey have done in regard to a few points, although with the brevity\nto which the nature of their document restricted them.\n\n(1.) Their first argument is against the authority of tradition.\nIt is that, by receiving the teachings of tradition as of equal\nauthority with the teachings of Scripture, we incur the condemnation\npronounced by our Lord against the Pharisees when he said, \"_Ye\nmake void the word of God by your traditions_.\" The answer to this\nis obvious. The traditions of the Pharisees were private, human,\nrecent traditions, not derived from the oral teaching of Moses\nor other inspired prophets, but from the unauthorized glosses or\ninterpretations of the text of the law, made by the rabbis and\nscribes exercising their own private judgment. They were contrary\nto the true sense of the law, subversive of it, and maintained\nin opposition to the authority of Jesus Christ, the divinely\ncommissioned interpreter and judge of doctrine. What has this to do\nwith a tradition descending from the oral teaching of Jesus Christ\nand the apostles, agreeing with, explaining, and supplementing the\nteaching of the Scripture? The canon of the New Testament is such a\ntradition, and the Presbyterians have, consequently, if their opinion\nis a true one, incurred the condemnation of the Lord by receiving it.\nThat traditions which are derived from the pure, original source of\nrevelation are to be received, is proved by the commandment of St.\nPaul to the Thessalonians to \"_Stand firm: and hold the traditions\nwhich you have learned, whether by word or our epistle_.\"[48] This\nis precisely what Catholics do. We hold all that has been delivered\nto us by the apostles, whether transmitted through the Scriptures\nor through tradition. Presbyterians reject apostolic and Catholic\ntradition, but make void the word of God; that is, they pervert or\ndeny a great portion of the doctrine revealed by Jesus Christ through\nthe apostles, by their own human, unauthorized traditions. Thus, they\nreject a number of the books of the Old Testament declared canonical\nby the same apostolic tradition which fixes the canon of the New\nTestament, by following the tradition of the Jews. They follow, in\nrespect to divers other essential points of doctrine as well as\ndiscipline, the traditions of Luther and Calvin. Practically, they\nare entirely under the control of this human, modern tradition, which\nis designated by the reverend moderators as \"the principles which\nprompted our 'ancestors,' in the name of primitive Christianity, and\nin defence of the 'true faith,' bravely to protest against the errors\nand abuses which had been foisted upon the church;\" that is to say,\nagainst Catholic and apostolic tradition.\n\n(2.) Their second argument is in favor of the right of private\njudgment--that is, according to their way of understanding this\nright--against the authority of the teaching church as the final,\nsupreme judge of doctrine. The argument in brief is, that the\nScriptures address the individual mind and conscience of every reader\nin an authoritative manner, commanding him to search their pages,\npromising him the divine illumination to understand their meaning,\nholding him responsible to God for the belief and practice of their\nteachings, and forbidding him to listen to any teacher who shall\npresent to him any doctrine differing from that which they contain.\nSuppose we grant all this. What then? Presbyterianism gains nothing.\nIt cannot defend itself against other forms of Protestantism. It\ncannot establish its system either of doctrine or discipline.\nMoreover, an able, profound, biblical scholar, such as is Dr. Pusey,\nfor example, will be able to prove from the Scripture the greater\nnumber of all those Catholic doctrines against which these divines\nprotest as errors of the Roman Church. Among these doctrines thus\ncontained in Scripture, and ascertainable even by one who begins\nhis search properly qualified and disposed, but without any other\nauthority except private judgment to direct him, are the authority\nof tradition and of the church. What now is the individual to do?\nThe Scripture, as he supposed when he began to search it, teaches\nthe right and duty of private judgment upon its own contents, as\nthe exclusive method of learning the truths revealed from heaven to\nmen. He has followed this method conscientiously, relying on the\npromise of divine illumination made to all sincere seekers after\ntruth, and he now finds himself referred to another authority,\nthat of the church. What is he to do now? Reject the Scriptures\nand the whole system of positive Christianity as inconsistent\nand self-contradictory? The Presbyterian divines cannot sanction\nthis conclusion. Then he must conclude that he had imperfectly\napprehended what the Scriptures teach respecting the right and\nduty of the individual to judge of their true sense and meaning,\nand must harmonize in some way their teaching on this point with\ntheir teaching on the other point, namely, the authority of the\nchurch. This is the way in which many have reached the church by\nthe road of private judgment. They have opened and searched the\nScriptures, assuming at the outset that they are the inspired word\nof God, addressed to them as individuals and intelligible to their\nown private reason, assisted by grace, without any extrinsic aid or\ninterpreter. The fact that they have been able to reach the same\nknowledge of their true sense which the Catholic Church imparts to\nher children in a shorter way, is no proof, however, that this is\nthe ordinary way in which the Lord intended that men should gain\nthis knowledge. We deny totally that it is. It is very easy to\nassume the Scriptures in arguing with Catholics who affirm their\nauthority. We deny, however, that the assumption is justifiable on\nProtestant principles. When the reverend doctors quietly say, \"We\nopen the Scriptures,\" we meet them at once with a denial of their\nlogical right to assert that there are any Scriptures to be opened.\nIf the word of God is manifested to each individual directly through\na book, without human media, that book must be a miraculous work of\nGod created by him immediately, and authenticated by some manifest\nsign from heaven. The Bible is not such a book. It is not a book at\nall, in the strict sense of the word. It is a collection of writings\nmade by the church, authenticated as divine by her authority, and\ntherefore always presupposing her existence and the existence of that\nfaith and those laws by which she is constituted the church. To say\nthat the exhortations of the sacred books of Scripture are addressed\nto each individual singly, without reference to the church of which\nhe is a member or of the doctrine which she teaches, is about as\nsensible as to say that St. Paul's direction to \"salute Andronicus\nand Junias\" was directed to the moderators of the two assemblies.\n\nIf all explicit teaching of the revealed truths were contained in\nthe Scripture, exclusively, and sufficiently for the immediate\ninstruction of all the faithful, the Scripture would clearly and\ndistinctly affirm this, and furnish us with a description of itself\nor canon specifying the books which are inspired, duly authenticated\nby St. John, the last of the apostles. It does nothing of the\nkind, and the moderators are forced to allude to certain indirect\nreferences which are made to the authority of the Scripture in some\nof the sacred books. These indirect statements are not without\ntheir value as proofs of the Catholic doctrine of inspiration, but\nthey by no means support the position of the moderators. Our Lord\ndirects the unbelieving Jews to search the Scriptures of the Old\nTestament, because they testify of him, the living teacher, as\nthe Vicar of Christ now points to the pages of the New Testament,\nwhere Protestants may find the proofs of his divine commission and\nauthority. St. Timothy is commended as having studied the same\nScriptures of the old law, which made him \"wise unto salvation\" by\npreparing him to receive the oral teaching of St. Paul. St. Peter\nincidentally informs us that the epistles of St. Paul are a portion\nof the inspired Scripture, when he gives the caution to all who read\nthem that in them \"_are some things hard to be understood, which\nthe unlearned and unstable wrest, as also the other Scriptures, to\ntheir own perdition_.\"[49] All this is in perfect harmony with the\nteachings of the Catholic Church, as any one may see without our\ntaking the trouble to develop the matter any further.\n\nThe promise of the Holy Spirit to the faithful generally is not\nin the least contrary to the doctrine of the infallibility of\nthe teaching church, and the duty of obeying its decisions. It\nis a necessary condition to the participation in this light of\nthe Holy Spirit that an individual should be a member of the body\nof Christ--the church--in which the Spirit resides. He must be\ninstructed and baptized in the faith, the true doctrine must be\ngiven to him, the key to the sense of the sacred writings must be\nfurnished him, the criterion of discernment between true and false\ninterpretations of the revelation of Christ must exist in his mind,\nin order that he may exercise his judgment rightly. Under these\nconditions, the private Christian can possess the faith in himself in\nsuch a way that he needs no man to tell him what the true doctrine\nof Christ is, and detects at once the heresy of any false teacher,\neven though he be a priest or bishop, who attempts to preach his\nown new and private opinions contrary to the Catholic faith. This\nis that supernatural, Catholic instinct pervading the church and\nkeeping the faithful loyal to their religion, under the longest and\nbloodiest persecutions, like those which the Irish and the Poles have\nendured with such martyr-like constancy. This \"unction from the Holy\nOne\" was in the fathers of the first six councils, by the confession\nof the reverend doctors themselves, and in the universal church\nwhich adhered to the true faith attacked by the Arian, Nestorian,\nand Monophysite heretics. And if so, this same unction must have\nenabled them to understand the true doctrine of the apostles on all\nother points of the Christian faith, as well as on the Trinity and\nIncarnation. If this unction is in all true Christians, then they\nmust all believe alike, in all ages and all places. Why, then, do the\nPresbyterian divines reject the doctrines of the fathers of the first\nsix centuries, and the doctrines of all Christendom during these and\nsubsequent centuries, until the revolution of the sixteenth century,\nconcerning the sacraments, the priesthood, and other matters of the\nmost essential character?\n\n(3.) The third argument is, that the doctrine of a human priesthood\nimplies a denial of the priesthood of Jesus Christ, or of its\nsufficiency. We are surprised to see such manifestly inconsequent\nreasoning in a document coming from a body of such high repute for\nability and learning as the Presbyterian clergy. The affirmation\nthat the Bible is the word of God implies, then, a rejection of\nJesus Christ as the Word of God, or a denial of his sufficiency.\nThe recognition of human teachers and pastors implies, then, the\nrejection of Jesus Christ as the teacher and pastor, or the denial\nof his sufficiency. What, then, are the five thousand Presbyterian\npastors but so many usurpers of the titles and offices of Jesus\nChrist? Christ and the Holy Spirit are sufficient for each man\nwithout any human intervention. Away, then, with your church, your\nsacraments, your assemblies, your ministers, your confession of\nfaith, your bibles. Every man is enlightened by the Holy Spirit, and\nhas unrestricted access to God through Jesus Christ, as the fanatics\nsaid in the time of Luther, who had no argument by which he could\nrefute them, and was forced to call on the princes to use the more\nefficacious weapon of the sword, and to sweep away the too consequent\nbut most unfortunate imitators of his own example by a deluge of\nblood.\n\n(4.) The fourth argument is, that there can be no apostolic\nsuccession in the church, because bishops do not possess the gifts\nand perform the miracles of the apostles. This argument merely\nproves that the apostles can have no successors in that which was\npeculiar to themselves as founders of the church, or fathers in\nthe spiritual order of the line of succession. They alone received\nimmediately from Jesus Christ the revelation of Christian faith and\nChristian law. Their successors received this deposit from their\nhands without any power to add to it or take from it. There is no\nnecessity that the successors of the apostles should receive by\na new revelation that which they have received from the apostles\nthemselves by tradition. They need not the gifts necessary to\noriginate, but only those necessary to preserve and continue the\nwork of Christ, committed to the apostles. It is, therefore, no\nargument against the infallibility of the episcopate in preserving,\nproclaiming, explaining, or protecting against contrary errors the\ndeposit of faith received from the apostles, to say that it lacks\nthe immediate inspiration necessary to an infallible proclamation of\nrevealed truths at first hand. The miracles wrought by the apostles\nas signs of their apostleship authenticate this revelation as taught\nby their successors to the end of time, and seal the credentials\nof the episcopal line which they founded throughout its entire\nlength without any new miracles. As to the fact of the establishment\nof the hierarchy containing the three distinct grades of bishop,\npriest, and deacon, deriving its power through episcopal ordination\nfrom the apostles, it is enough to refer to the learned works of\nProtestant authors who have fully proved it. Catholic authors do not\nteach that bishops succeed to the extraordinary apostolic office\nof the apostles, but only to their episcopal office. We hold that\nSt. Peter alone has successors to the plenitude of his apostolic\npower, with the reservation of so much as only the founder of the\nline could or need exercise. To this supremacy of the successor of\nSt. Peter the divines object still more strongly than to the power\nof the episcopate, that it substitutes the pope in the place of\nJesus Christ. It is very hard to find by what logical process this\nconclusion is reached. The divines admit that St. Peter and the\napostles were the infallible teachers and rulers of the church. If\ntheir argument is sound, they cannot admit this without substituting\nthe apostles in the place of Jesus Christ. If the church could\nbe governed by a human, infallible authority for half a century,\nwithout prejudice to the supreme authority of Jesus Christ, it\ncould be governed for an indefinite number of centuries in the same\nway, without any such prejudice. It is quite irrelevant to this\nside of the question whether this authority is exercised by one or\nby several, over local churches or over the church of the whole\nworld, Christ is the head of all particular churches as well as of\nthe church universal. If it is compatible with this headship of\nChrist that a man should be the pastor of a single congregation,\nit is quite as much so that he should be a pastor over a diocese,\nover a province, over a nation, over a collection of nations, or\nover the whole world. The reverend doctors have therefore confused\nthe issue. It is simply a question of fact as to what constitution\nJesus Christ actually gave the church, and what powers he delegated\nto his ministers. The Presbyterians, on their own principles, are\nbound to prove from the New Testament alone that our Lord did not\ngive the church an episcopal and papal constitution, but did give\nit a Presbyterian polity. When they made their case out against the\nEpiscopalian divines on the one side, and against such Catholic\nauthors as Archbishop Kenrick, Mr. Allies, F. Bottalla, and F.\nWeninger, on the other, it will be time to listen to them, but not\nsooner.\n\nWe have done with the arguments of the reverend doctors, but we\ncannot withhold an expression of surprise at the signs of the divine\nsanction to their principles which they appeal to, apparently in lieu\nof the miracles which are wanting, or of the four marks by which\nthe church used to be known in the old times. That men believing in\ntotal depravity and election should appeal to the temporal prosperity\nof nations--the mass of whom, on their principles, are hopelessly\ndoomed to everlasting fire, there to be tormented for ever, even for\nthose actions which the world calls virtuous and brilliant--as a\nproof of the divine favor, is somewhat strange. We wonder they did\nnot add, \"Behold we are rich and increased in goods; in this great\ncapital where we are assembled, our churches are principally in the\nupper portion of the city, handsomely carpeted, richly cushioned, and\nprincipally frequented by the wealthier classes. Indeed, we are the\nchurch both of the _\u00e9lite_ and of the elect.\"\n\nWe have done with the arguments by which the reverend doctors sustain\ntheir protest against the Roman Church, and will devote the rest of\nour space to a consideration of those by which they sustain their\nclaim to be recognized as orthodox, Catholic Christians. Their line\nof argument is certainly remarkable, and must strike many of their\nreaders with surprise. It is an attempt to take the position held\nby the Catholic Church during the first five or six centuries, to\nidentify their cause with that of the early fathers and councils,\nto shelter themselves under the \u00e6gis of a Catholic creed, to\nuse Catholic language, appropriate the Catholic name, and make\nprofession of adhering to Catholic unity and the communion of the\nCatholic Church. There must be a wonderful charm and power about\nthis word when even Presbyterians are compelled to bow before its\nmajesty, and to acknowledge that their cause is lost if they cannot\nindicate their right to inherit and blazon on their escutcheon this\nglorious, world-subduing title. \"The name itself of Catholic keeps\nme,\" says St. Augustine, the favorite doctor of the Presbyterians.\nThe divines of the assemblies are, therefore, compelled by the very\nattitude they have taken, in justifying themselves as orthodox\nbelievers before the holy see, to claim that appellation which\nwas the distinctive mark and sign of that ancient body whose\nfaith is acknowledged by both sides as the standard and criterion\nof orthodoxy. This language is, however, evidently only adopted\nfor the occasion. It is not the natural, ordinary phraseology of\nPresbyterians, who are not accustomed to teach and preach to their\nown adherents the necessity of Catholic unity, communion in the\nCatholic Church, agreement with the first six councils, or to call\ntheir doctrine the Catholic faith. These words must have a definite\nmeaning. They are not mere phrases or pure synonyms of other words\nequally significant of the same ideas. Catholic is not merely another\nname for true, or scriptural, or apostolic. It will not do for one\nto give out a system of doctrine which he has constructed by his\nown private judgment upon the Scripture, or learned by a private\nillumination, or taken from the writings of a particular set of\nreligious teachers, and call it Catholic because he thinks it is\nproved to be true, and ought to be universally received. The term\nCatholic includes in its signification completeness and integrity of\ntruth; but its specific sense is concrete, visible universality of\noutward profession, the _quod semper, quod ubique, quod ab omnibus_,\nof Vincent of Lerins. This universality in time and space is the mark\nand outward manifestation of the integral, divine truth, and those\nwho accept it and proclaim it as such must necessarily hold that\nthe indefectibility of the visible church is guaranteed by Almighty\nGod. It is unmeaning for those who hold that the body of the visible\nchurch, as organized under its legitimate pastors, can apostatize\nfrom the pure faith of the gospel, and the line of true believers be\ncontinued invisibly, or in a small, separated section of professed\nChristians, to make use of the word Catholic, or pretend to agree\nwith the fathers of the first six centuries in their profession of\nCatholicity as opposed to heresy. The marks of the church, unity,\nsanctity, catholicity, and apostolicity, if they are really marks, as\ndeclared by all who profess to be Catholics in the genuine, natural,\ncommonly accepted sense of the word, must be so burnt into the object\nthey are intended to mark that they are ineffaceable and easily read\nand known by all men. The young Mohican hero Uncas was recognized\nby the aged Indian chief and prophet Tamenund as the legitimate\nheir of the noblest and most royal line of the northern sachems, by\nthe figure of its sacred emblem, the tortoise, tattooed upon his\nbreast. The name _Catholic_ is, as it were, the _totem_ which marks\na peculiar ecclesiastical race, descended from the ancient fathers,\nindelibly stamped upon its breast as the sure sign of its legitimacy.\nIt is in vain, therefore, that the Presbyterian doctors vaunt their\nacceptance of the Catholic symbol, the Apostles' Creed, including\nas one of its essential articles, \"I believe the holy, Catholic\nChurch.\" They do not believe this article in the Catholic sense,\nas understood by the whole ancient church, namely, as designating a\nwell-known, specific, visible body, and implying a full belief of\nall the doctrines authoritatively proclaimed by that body. Among a\nthousand others we take one text of St. Augustine, which we have hit\nupon at random, expressing this sense: \"Catholica fides est autem\nh\u00e6c--constitutam ab illo matrem ecclesiam, qu\u00e6 Catholica dicitur,\nex eo quia universaliter perfecta est, et in nullo claudicat, et\nper totum orbem diffusa est.\" \"The Catholic faith is this--that the\nmother church was constituted by him, which is called Catholic,\nbecause it is universally perfect, and is diffused through the whole\nworld.\"[50] Moreover, the profession in general terms of holding the\nCatholic faith, or the avowal even of a creed completely orthodox,\navails nothing to those who are outside the Catholic communion, and\nmake their orthodox profession a pretext for keeping up a separate\norganization in opposition to the legitimate pastors. All the\nancient separatists made a loud outcry that they were true, genuine\nCatholics. The modern ones, from the Greeks to the Presbyterians,\nimitate their example. There is a power residing in that name which\nall acknowledge. They feel that their claim to be truly apostolic,\northodox churches, holding the pure doctrine and order established by\nthe apostles and apostolic men, will be utterly demolished if they\nyield the title to Catholicity. Hence they have tried to arrogate it\nto themselves, and to affix nicknames to the Catholic Church. But\ntheir efforts have always been in vain. When they are divested of\nthe disguises and borrowed raiment which they throw around their own\nproper form, the sign on their breast is wanting, and none of the\nblack paint with which they strive to smear it over can mar or cancel\nthe indelible imprint which the numberless lancets of persecution\nhave cut and graven into the very flesh of the majestic figure of\nthe true body of the Son of God. Hear once more St. Augustine: \"The\nChristian religion must be held by us, and the communion of that\nchurch which is Catholic, and is called Catholic, not only by its\nown members, but also by all its enemies. For, whether they will or\nno, the very heretics themselves and the offspring of schisms, when\nthey talk not with their own friends, but with people outside, call\nthe Catholic Church nothing else but Catholic. For they cannot be\nunderstood unless they designate her by that name by which she is\ndenominated by the whole world.\"[51]\n\nThe profession of agreement with the first six councils is equally\nfallacious. Why the first six and not the last twelve? The Catholic\nChurch receives all the eighteen councils with equal veneration, and\nis now preparing herself to celebrate the nineteenth, which will\nhave equal authority with the first, because the fathers will be\nequally congregated together in the Holy Ghost, with the presence\nof Christ in the midst of them, and the inexhaustible virtue of his\npromise, _Lo! I am with you always, even to the consummation of the\nworld_. The separated bodies of Christians are ranged in an ascending\nseries of protesters against these councils, who reject a greater\nor lesser number according to the date or reason of the judgment\npronounced in them against their several errors. The Greeks reject\nall but the first seven, the orthodox Protestants all but six; the\nMonothelites rejected the sixth, the Eutychians the fourth, the\nNestorians the third, the Macedonians the second, the Arians the\nfirst, in which they are followed by the modern Unitarians. It is\nevident enough that there is a principle of consanguinity binding\ntogether all these families, from those who reject the Council\nof Nice to those who repudiate the Council of the Vatican. The\nCatholic Church is marked by the unbroken continuity of oecumenical\ncouncils. The other churches reject as many of these councils as\nseems good in their eyes, and accept the decisions of the others\nbecause they are in accordance with their own opinions. They do not\nsubmit to the councils; they judge them, and ratify such of them as\nthey approve. The profession made by the Presbyterian doctors of\nreceiving six councils amounts, therefore, to nothing as a plea in\ndefence of their orthodoxy. Upon their own principle, they might\njust as rightfully reject these six councils as the seventh. They\nreally reject and deny their authority as councils, they repudiate\nthe very principle on which they were constituted, and affirm their\nown supreme right to judge. They acknowledge the truth of the\ndoctrines which they defined; but it is purely on the ground that\nthese doctrines agree with their own private opinions respecting\nthe sense of the New Testament. The whole of this portion of the\nletter, in which the Presbyterian doctors attempt to use Catholic\nphraseology, is evidently nothing but a piece of special pleading.\nThey do not venture the assertion that the church of the period of\nthe six councils--that is, the three centuries and a half between\nthe years 325 and 680--was identical in doctrine or discipline with\nthe Presbyterian Church of the United States, which they represent.\nNevertheless, they seem to wish to leave the impression on the\nminds of their readers that the fathers, the councils, the common\nbelief and practice of those ages sustain their cause. The editorial\ncomment in the _Evangelist_ boldly asserts that such is the case.\nThe small number of scholars well read in patristic theology who\nare found among the Presbyterian clergy will probably not risk\ntheir reputation for learning or put at hazard the success of their\ncause by any such rash statement. As a general rule, however, the\nPresbyterian clergy and theological students, though well-educated\nscholars in the college curriculum and certain special professional\nbranches taught at the seminaries, have not turned their attention to\nancient Christian history and literature. They know much more about\nTurretin than they do about St. Augustine. It is quite probable,\ntherefore, that a very general impression prevails among them, that\nthey are really on the whole in conformity with the doctrine of the\ngreat fathers of the ancient church. This is a delusion which a\nlittle study of the original works of the fathers themselves would\nsoon dissipate. We could not desire any thing more efficacious for\nthis purpose than the study of St. Augustine, called by Luther\nthe greatest teacher whom God had given to the church since the\ndays of the apostles, and revered in a most remarkable way by all\nthose who follow the Lutheran and Calvinistic confessions.[52]\nThe deeply learned men and independent thinkers among Protestants\nunderstand this well, and the notion of the half-learned sixteenth\nand seventeenth centuries that Protestantism can take its stand on\nthe era of the first six councils is a mere remnant of mist that\nhangs for a while over portions of the landscape, but is destined\nsoon to disappear before advancing light. St. Augustine is\ndiametrically opposed to the first principle of Presbyterianism and\nall Protestantism, that principle which is the dominant idea of the\nPresbyterian reply to the Pope.\n\nHe says, \"Non crederem Evangelio nisi me commoveret Ecclesi\u00e6\nCatholic\u00e6 auctoritas,\" \"I would not believe the gospel unless the\nauthority of the Catholic Church moved me to do it.\"[53] Prof. Reuss,\nof the Protestant theological faculty in the University of Strasburg,\nsays that \"St. Augustine's principles come to their result in this\nfamous saying, diametrically opposed to the fundamental principle\nof all Protestant theology.\"[54] Julius M\u00fcller, another professor\nin the same faculty, says of all the fathers: \"This must be openly\nadmitted by every unprejudiced historical investigation, that not\nmerely the ecclesiastical theology of the middle ages, but even the\npatristic theology of the fourth, fifth, and sixth centuries, are,\nupon every point that is a matter of dispute between Catholicism and\nProtestantism, more on the side of the former than of the latter.\"[55]\n\nPresbyterians cannot make any thing by an appeal from the Council of\nTrent to the first six councils. They have no connection either by\ncontinuity of thought or succession with historical Christianity,\nand their only resource is to maintain that the true interpretation\nof the gospel, which was lost before the Council of Nice assembled\nunder the auspices of Constantine, has been restored by Calvin,\nLuther, and Knox. How they can account for the fact that the church\nwhich, on their theory, had subverted the apostolic church, was\nunerring in its definitions of the great dogmas of the Trinity,\nIncarnation, Original Sin, and Grace, is only known to themselves.\nIt is only by a happy inconsistency that orthodox Protestants have\npreserved that portion of the Catholic faith which they have received\nby tradition from their ancestors. The true Protestant principle of\nindividualism necessarily tends to master the contrary principle of\nfaith in the minds of Protestants, and to produce the doubt, the\ndenial, the hostility to all positive dogmas which marks the most\nadvanced rationalism. All this was working in Luther himself, whose\nbrain contained the seeds of the bitter fruit which has ripened in\nthe minds of his followers in our day. He himself was the prey of\ndoubt, and gave utterance to the strongest expression concerning the\nabsurdity of the principal doctrines of his own system.[56] Thrown\nupon the discussion of what the Scripture is, and what it means,\nwith nothing to appeal to but private judgment, Presbyterianism, or\nany other form of Protestantism, has nothing to look forward to but\nan endless shock and collision of conflicting opinions, which can\nhave no other effect than the resolution of the whole mass into its\ncomponent atoms.\n\nWe have concluded our remarks upon the reply of the Presbyterian\nmoderators to the pope's letter. While we have been forced to point\nout distinctly that the principle of its protest against the doctrine\nand authority of the Roman Church is totally subversive of all\nfaith, yet we willingly acknowledge that some of the most sacred and\nfundamental dogmas of faith are held and professed by the respectable\nbodies in whose name it was written. Their doctrine is like a superb\nancient _torso_ to which plaster limbs and head have been added.\nAlthough their principle is equally destructive of all faith with\nthat of the Arians, yet we by no means regard them in the same light.\nThe authors of heresies who mutilate the faith are very different\nfrom those who receive and hold with reverence this mutilated faith.\nTheir intellectual and moral worth, their philanthropy and zeal for\nGod, the value of many most excellent works which they have written\nin defence of the divine revelation, we fully appreciate. That\ngreat numbers have been and are in the spiritual communion of the\nCatholic Church we sincerely hope. We desire that the schism which\nhas separated them from our visible communion may be healed, not\nonly for their own spiritual good, but also that the Catholic Church\nin the United States may be strengthened by the accession of that\nintellectual and religious vigor which such a great mass of baptized\nChristians contains in itself. Above all things, we desire that all\nwho acknowledge our Lord Jesus Christ as their Lord and Sovereign\nshould be united in mind, and heart, and effort, in order that his\nuniversal kingdom over the nations of the earth may be established as\nspeedily and as completely as possible.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[46] Besides the great bodies above mentioned, there are in\nthe United States eight or ten other societies resembling the\nPresbyterian Church in order and doctrine, and numbering some\nhundreds of thousands of communicants.\n\n[47] Epistle to Titus, iii. 11.\n\n[48] 2 Thess. ii. 14.\n\n[49] 2 Peter iii. 16.\n\n[50] De Genesi ad Litteram. Op. Imp. Cap. 1, \u00a7\u00a7 2 and 4.\n\n[51] De Ver. Rel. v. 2.\n\n[52] The reader is referred to a treatise entitled _Studies in St.\nAugustine_, which is published in the same volume as the _Problems of\nthe Age_, at the office of this magazine.\n\n[53] Con. Ep. Manich. i. 6.\n\n[54] Sur Le Canon, p. 169.\n\n[55] Quoted by D\u00f6llinger. _Church and Churches_, p. 298.\n\n[56] See Audin's _Life of Luther_, vol. ii. p. 418, where references\nand quotations are given.\n\n\n\n\nA HERO, OR A HEROINE?\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nA HERO.\n\n\"You say he is handsome?\"\n\n\"No; I said he was nice-looking, and gentlemanly, as of course\nPhilip's cousin would be. But you know I judge only from a\nphotograph.\"\n\n\"How vain you are of your lover, Jessie! You would be just as proud\nof him if he had not his handsome face, of course?\"\n\n\"Of course I would.\"\n\n\"I will not marry a handsome man! However, tell me some more about\nthe cousin. Why should he bury himself at Shellbeach? I should think\na man of any aspiration could not endure such a contracted life. I\nsuppose he is as gossiping and weak-minded as a country minister.\"\n\n\"My dear Margaret!\"\n\n\"I know you think me uncharitable. The truth is, men exasperate me;\nand then remember I am twenty-five and not engaged.\"\n\n\"You have no one to blame except yourself.\"\n\n\"I don't know about that. Is it my fault that young men are all\nalike, and inexpressibly wearisome? Seriously, I am tired of being\nMiss Lester, and mean to change my condition. Why do you look at me\nin that peculiar manner?\"\n\n\"I was wondering how you would suit the doctor.\"\n\n\"Does he want to be suited?\"\n\n\"I should think so, from his letter.\"\n\n\"Jessie, give it to me this moment. I must see it.\"\n\n\"I will not give it to you. I will read you something he says. No,\nyou are not to look over my shoulder; sit down peaceably, or else I\nshall put the letter in my pocket.\"\n\n\"Why Jessie, what is the matter with you? I never saw you so\ndignified in all my life. I suppose the letter is all about Philip,\nand that is why you choose to keep it to yourself. Well, here I am,\nmeek as a lamb, actually submitting to you. It is too absurd!\"\n\nWith these words, Margaret, who had seated herself on a sofa near her\nfriend, jumped up, seized the letter and tore it open, while Jessie\nheld out her hands imploringly, but did not offer to resist her\nimpetuous companion. Margaret glanced at the first two pages.\n\n\"Philip, Philip. Don't be alarmed; I would not be hired to read it.\nLet me see; what is this? 'Why was not I fortunate enough to have\nyou myself?' Aha! you have two irons in the fire, you artful little\ncreature?\"\n\n\"Don't be silly, Margaret, but read on.\"\n\n\"I don't know about this; I shall not scruple to warn Philip, if\nyou are getting yourself into trouble. What comes next? 'But since\nso charming a companion is beyond my reach, cannot you undertake to\nfind me some one as much like you as possible, or at least just as\nnice, who would not be afraid of a quiet, hard-working life with a\npoor doctor, in the dullest of country towns? A sweet temper is, of\ncourse, the first requirement; moderate personal attractions; some\nsense and experience, and a little money for herself. Of course I\nwant a great many more things, but these will do for the present. So\nif you know of a young woman, strong and healthy--to think that a\ndoctor should have almost forgotten those important items!--send her\ndown here, will you? and I will marry her on the spot.' Well, I will\nnot read any more of your letter, unless there are any more of this\nmodest man's requirements. But seriously, Jessie, I think I would do\nvery well for him, and you may write and tell him I am coming.\"\n\n\"Margaret, of course you are in fun? How can you look so sober? You\nwould not surely mean any thing so improper.\"\n\n\"I am in very earnest, and really it is quite refreshing to be so.\nI am tired out with my third season of balls, operas, Germans, and\nall that kind of nonsense, and I would like to see a little of real\nlife. I have not quite made up my mind what I will do; but I will go\nup-stairs for an hour, and then I will tell you what to write to the\ndoctor. My good old aunty shall be favored with a long visit from her\nniece, whom she has not seen for five years; and in the mean time,\nyou are not to say one word to your mother or to any one else. Do you\nhear, Jessie? Come, promise me.\"\n\nThe promise was given, and Jessie was left in great perplexity for\nnearly two hours, when a message was brought her that Miss Lester\nwould be glad to see her up-stairs. She found her friend at a little\nwriting-table, in a sort of boudoir between their rooms, where the\ngirls used to work and read in the mornings, and receive calls from\ntheir intimate friends.\n\n\"There!\" said Margaret, rising as she entered; \"sit down there,\nJessie, and read what I have written; you are to copy it in your\nanswer to the doctor's letter. Read it aloud to me; I want to hear\nhow it sounds.\"\n\nJessie read as follows:\n\n     \"I highly approve of your wish to marry, and think I can help\n     you in the matter. I have some one in my mind that comes pretty\n     well up to your different requirements--at least those you have\n     specified; for of course I cannot pretend to answer for the\n     'great many more things' which you want, but have not mentioned.\n     Moreover, this young woman is a dear friend of mine, and is\n     willing to marry, if she can be satisfied. She says she will go\n     to Shellbeach and stay with a relation, in order to see and to\n     be seen, on condition that you will be at her disposal to a\n     reasonable degree during her visit, which she will limit to six\n     months, and that, at the end of that time, you will write her a\n     true statement of how you stand affected toward her. On her part,\n     she will promise to marry you, if by that time you both desire it.\n     I may as well tell you that her name is Margaret Lester, and that\n     she will stay with old Miss Spelman, with whom you are on such\n     friendly terms. This whole matter, you will understand, is to rest\n     between you, Miss Lester, and myself.\"\n\nJessie was too much accustomed to her friend's eccentricities to\nbe very much astonished by this unexpected termination to their\nmorning's conversation. She disapproved, however, of the whole\naffair, and remonstrated as strongly as she dared; but she had grown\nto defer to Margaret's stronger will, and now felt it impossible to\noppose her. \"Besides,\" as Margaret said, \"what could be more natural\nthan that she should go to stay with old Aunt Selina? It was only\nwhat she ought to have done before.\" And, to crown all, Jessie was\ninformed that a letter had been already written and sent to Miss\nSpelman, and Margaret intended to go, at any rate.\n\nThe discussion lasted some time, and ended by Jessie's unwillingly\nplacing herself at the desk and writing a letter, which, though it\ncontained the exact words of the copy given above, also enlarged,\nin Jessie's own affectionate language, on her friend's good\nqualities, attractions, and popularity, and had nearly alluded to\nthe very handsome income, which would so far exceed the doctor's not\nunreasonable demand. But that Margaret cut short; it was enough, she\nsaid, that he should believe her to have a little pin-money; for of\ncourse he would expect to support the family, if he had any spirit,\nand if he had not, she would have nothing to do with him. Poor Jessie\ngroaned over Margaret's downright speeches, but did not attempt to\nchange her decision. The letter was at last sealed and sent, and\nJessie could only wonder at Margaret's high spirits for the rest\nof the day. She had never looked handsomer, or been more amusing,\nor played more finely than on that evening, when Mrs. Edgar gave a\nlittle party. She was so kind to the young men, that they all were\ncharmed with her and with themselves, and quite expanded under the\nwarmth of her bright smiles.\n\nJessie, on the contrary, was preoccupied and distressed. She felt\nuncomfortable at what she had done, at the thought of the secret\nshe was keeping from her mother, and troubled when she remembered\nthe approaching separation from her friend. How she wished Margaret\nwere not so hard to please! Why could she not like that pleasant Mr.\nLothrop, who was so handsome, so rich, and who would so gladly have\navailed himself of the smallest encouragement to make her an offer?\nHow kindly she smiled on him to-night! Why couldn't she be satisfied\nwith pleasing him? And then what was the chance that this fastidious\ngirl would take a fancy to Dr. James, whom, though she had never\nseen, she believed to be plain and unattractive? What could come of\nit, except trouble for the poor man? Of course he would fall in love\nwith Margaret, while she would think of nothing but amusing herself.\n\"And I shall have been the instrument of bringing disappointment and\nunhappiness to Philip's cousin and dearest friend.\"\n\nAll these thoughts kept Jessie in a very unenviable state of mind\nduring the evening, and she was thankful when she could escape to her\nown room, and write a long letter, before going to bed, to her absent\nlover; of course not disclosing Margaret's secret, but disburdening\nher mind of many anxieties on her friend's account.\n\nWhile the answers to the letters written in so impulsive a manner are\nbeing expected with some impatience, a few words should be said on\nthe history and circumstances of Margaret Lester, about whom a good\ndeal is to be written in these pages.\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nPRELIMINARY.\n\nMargaret's mother died when she was about fourteen years old, and her\nfather, unwilling to take the direction of his daughter's education,\nplaced her at an excellent boarding-school, where no expense was\nspared to give her every advantage, and where, being perfectly happy,\nshe remained until she was nineteen. It was at this school that she\nformed the friendship with Jessie Edgar which was afterward to be so\ngreat a benefit to her. Jessie was the second daughter of a wealthy\nNew York family, and it was at her home that Margaret passed her\nfirst Christmas vacation, and all her succeeding holidays.\n\nJessie's gentle, yielding nature found great enjoyment in Margaret's\nboldness and self-reliance, and Margaret, who began by protecting\nand supporting the other's timidity and shyness, ended by heartily\nadmiring and loving her sweet and unselfish room-mate. They became\n\"inseparables,\" in school-girl phrase, and when school-days were\nover, and Mr. Lester thought that the best completion to his\ndaughter's education would be a little travelling, Jessie's mother\nconsented to her accompanying her dear friend. For two years they\nvisited beautiful places together, and felt their friendship drawn\nmore closely, as their sympathies became enlarged.\n\nBut this happy experience came to a sudden and sorrowful end. Mr.\nLester had a dreadful fall while they were coming down a mountain,\nand, after lingering a few weeks in extreme suffering, died, leaving\nthe two girls quite alone in a foreign land. They had a sad journey\nhome; he had been the life and soul of their expedition, and, having\ntravelled a good deal before, had been able to be the pleasantest\nkind of guide for them. It had been hard to prevail on Margaret to\nleave the Swiss town where he lay buried in the little graveyard; but\nJessie's love prevailed, and they came safely back together to Mrs.\nEdgar's hospitable house. Once there, the kind friends would not let\nMargaret think of leaving them, and she had grown to consider the\npleasant house almost as her own home.\n\nIt was long before she recovered her high spirits, but at\ntwenty-three she was induced to go into society with Jessie, who\nhad waited for her. She was, from every point of view, a desirable\nmatch--young, rich, and fine-looking; gay and good-humored. Pleased\nwith herself and her surroundings, she thoroughly enjoyed her first\nseason, and was unmistakably a belle. The next year, however, was\na disappointment; there was a sameness in her life and amusements\nthat became irritating to her. Jessie was engaged to be married, and\nMargaret found herself jealous of her friend's divided confidence.\nBut, though she said to Jessie that she would like to follow her\nexample, \"to be able to sympathize with lovers' rhapsodies,\" like the\nprincess in the fairy-tale, she found fault with all her admirers;\ncriticised them, nicknamed them, and discouraged their attentions as\nsoon as these became exclusive. A very gay summer at a fashionable\nwatering-place followed this wearisome winter, and Margaret entered\nupon her third season disposed for any thing but enjoyment. No\none who saw her in society would have guessed her real character.\nHigh-spirited, gay, liking to astonish and slightly shock her friends\nby her behavior, a little of what is termed \"a trainer,\" there lay\nunderneath this careless exterior a depth of real sentiment that only\none or two people whom she truly loved were aware of. To be loved for\nherself, and to love, were her aspirations.\n\nFirst, she was perfectly aware of her own attractions, and believed\nshe could have almost any man of her acquaintance, if she should\nchoose to make herself agreeable to him; but she could not believe in\nany one's disinterested attachment to her.\n\n\"They all know I am rich,\" she would say to Jessie; \"they would not\ntake me and poverty. Now, I would be glad, if I were poor, to marry\na poor man; then I could believe in his love, and we could have some\ntrials to bear together.\"\n\nSecondly, she earnestly wished to love; but this, with her, meant a\ngreat deal. She wanted to look up to some one, to honor and believe\nin him; she thought of this much more than of the sentiment; for she\nknew she should find that with the rest. She was tired of taking the\nlead, and of having her own way. How gladly would she submit herself\nto a noble guide! She imagined herself almost as a queen stepping\ndown from her throne, resigning sceptre and authority, and saying,\nwith Miss Procter,\n\n    \"Love trusts; and for ever he gives, and gives all.\"\n\n\"But these young men,\" she said to Jessie, \"are so intensely\nmatter-of-fact! They would think my brain softening, if they knew\nwhat I wanted and expected to find.\" At another time she said, \"If\nI could only find something a little different! I think I will go to\nAustralia, marry a squatter, and see all the queer animals. My money\nwould be worth while out there.\"\n\nIt has been said that Margaret had a maiden aunt living at\nShellbeach, her mother's only sister. This lady she had seen but once\nsince her return from abroad, when Miss Spelman came to New York on\npurpose to take her niece home with her. Margaret, however, was not\nwilling to leave the Edgars, and so her aunt returned to Shellbeach,\na little offended by her niece's preferring strangers to her own\nflesh and blood, but, on the whole, perhaps relieved that her quiet\nhome was not to be invaded by a person of so startling a character as\nshe conceived Margaret to be. A visit had been agreed upon between\nthem; but this had been declined and deferred so many times that the\nold lady, again offended, had given up proposing it. If it had not\nbeen for Margaret's curiosity about Jessie's friend, Doctor James,\nshe certainly would not have remembered her duty to her mother's only\nsister; while it is equally true that, if it had not been for that\nconvenient relative, she could not for a moment have entertained the\nidea of taking the lion (that is, the doctor) by storm in his den.\nFor of any likelihood of being captivated herself in this adventure,\nit must be acknowledged, she had no thought. Her curiosity, her\nstrongest weak point, was thoroughly excited about this doctor.\nThat a man with a fine education, a profession, and enough money to\nlive respectably, (all which information she had obtained from her\nfriend,) should isolate himself in a stupid little sea-side town,\nbecause he liked to do so and enjoyed it, was to her a mystery which\ndemanded to be cleared up at once. How she should like to astonish\nthis hermit! How she would dress! How she would shock his ideas of\npropriety, if he had any! He would be surprised and overpowered, of\ncourse, and then--well, then she would beat a graceful retreat, and\ncome back to Jessie's wedding in the best of spirits.\n\n\"I shall take C\u00e9cile and the Marchioness and Jimmy, and you will\nsee that we shall have an exciting time. I shall make myself so\ndelightful to dear Aunt Selina that she will not hear of my staying\nless than six months; and I shall study housekeeping, economy, and\nmedicine, and experiment on C\u00e9cile when she is sick.\"\n\n\"Why do you take the Marchioness?\"\n\n\"How can you ask? I must have exercise; and who knows but I may make\nmyself useful by visiting the distant patients when the doctor's\nhorse is tired?\"\n\n\"But why not take Lady Jane? She is much handsomer.\"\n\n\"She is too fine for my purpose. I don't want to seem wealthy, you\nknow; and the Marchioness goes mousing along, her head level with her\ntail, in true Morgan style, and looks any thing but extravagant. Then\nJimmy will keep us awake, and bark at Aunt Selina's cats when other\nexcitement fails.\"\n\n\"How do you know she has any cats?\"\n\n\"Of course she has cats! Half a dozen, I have no doubt. Who ever\nheard of an ancient maiden living alone without cats? How I wish the\nanswers would come!\"\n\nThey did come, in due time; Miss Spelman's first, cordially welcoming\nher niece to Shellbeach for any length of time, or for good and all.\nMargaret felt rather ashamed, as she saw how her aunt had fallen\ninto the trap, and how completely her own good faith had been taken\nfor granted. She mentally resolved that, if it depended on her, Miss\nSpelman should not repent her generosity; she would make herself as\ndelightful as she could, cheerfully give up her own convenience, if\nnecessary, and make up for her long neglect of so disinterested a\nrelation.\n\nThis letter arrived on the third day of expectation; the doctor's,\nnot until a full week had elapsed. \"A doctor's time is not his own,\nand the number of invalids at Shellbeach has been greater than\nusual.\" It would be well to give the letter in full, at least so much\nof it as relates to Margaret and her proposition.\n\n     \"If it were the first of April,\" wrote the doctor, \"I should find\n     no difficulty in comprehending your letter; as it is not, I am\n     inclined to believe that I am being 'sold;' but I do not believe\n     practical jokes are in your line, and you write apparently in good\n     earnest. Therefore, if your original friend seriously recommends\n     such an experiment as this, I can but acquiesce, of course. Miss\n     Spelman also informs me that her niece 'is coming;' so I feel that\n     any opinion I may express on the subject is superfluous. However,\n     it seems to me that there should be an equality of position in\n     this matter, and I will say that I agree to Miss Lester's terms,\n     provided she agrees to mine. I have but one condition, and it\n     is her own: that at the end of the time she appoints she will,\n     simultaneously with me, that is, at a given hour, write me 'a\n     true statement of how she stands affected toward me'--which\n     means, of course, tell me honestly if she loves me. I have a\n     right to say that I think this plan doubtful in its purpose, its\n     practicability, and its probable results.\"\n\nNot a word more was given to the subject; the letter spoke briefly of\nPhilip, of Jessie, and terminated.\n\nMargaret of course saw this letter in the same forcible way that she\nsaw the other. Jessie thought she would be offended, and so she was,\nbut that did not have the result Jessie secretly hoped for.\n\n\"He is not well-bred, and evidently thinks a great deal of himself.\nHow I shall enjoy snubbing him!\"\n\n\"You are going?\"\n\n\"I should think so! Do you suppose I shall disappoint Aunt Selina for\nsuch rudeness as this? But I will have no more second-hand dealings.\"\nAnd so saying, she seized pen and paper, and wrote as follows:\n\n     \"DR. JAMES: I accept your condition. Six months from next Monday,\n     which will be July 18th, at eleven o'clock in the evening, we will\n     write our letters.\n\n                                \"MARGARET LESTER.\"\n\nJessie was not allowed to see this note, which was at once dispatched\nto Shellbeach.\n\n\"And now,\" Margaret said, \"comes the fun of arrangements. We will go\nup-stairs and consult about my clothes, and all that I shall take\nwith me.\"\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nPASSENGERS FOR SHELLBEACH.\n\nDr. James's letter had been received on Tuesday; the following\nMonday, at about three o'clock on a bleak and gray January afternoon,\nMargaret, accompanied by her maid and terrier dog, arrived at\nthe little way-station of Shellbeach, and ascertaining that\nMiss Spelman's carriage had not arrived, walked into the little\nwaiting-room and to the airtight stove, which was, however, barely\nwarm. Her teeth chattered, and she stamped her feet and rubbed her\nhands; the French maid followed, bearing bag and shawls, shivering\nand casting forlorn glances around her. The little dog alone seemed\nin good spirits, and ran about, inquiring into every thing, and\nsnuffled suspiciously at a man who sat wrapped in a shawl, reading a\nbook, and at two small boys, who were partaking of frost which they\nscraped off the windows.\n\n\"Well, we're all frozen, so it's no use saying it's cold,\" said\nMargaret, walking about the room; \"but I'm famished, and as cross as\na bear.\"\n\n\"O mademoiselle! it is terrible,\" cried C\u00e9cile, with a sort of little\nshriek.\n\n\"It is a forlorn place, certainly; let me see if my provisions are\nexhausted,\" Margaret said, taking the bag. The little boys at the\nwindow became deeply interested, and paused in their unsatisfactory\nrepast.\n\n\"One seed-cake! How exciting! What! you want it, do you? Well, take\nit,\" she said to the little dog, who jumped upon her, and while he\ndevoured it she watched him, saying reflectively, \"Little pig! if I\nwere dying of starvation, and it were my last crumb, he would eat it.\nHow do I look, C\u00e9cile? I am all covered with cinders.\"\n\n\"Yes, mademoiselle; you look like a fright.\"\n\nMargaret smiled, and returned to the platform, where she made\ninquiries of a man who was looking helplessly at her trunks how they\nwere to be got to Miss Spelman's. Having arranged that matter, she\nasked,\n\n\"Can't I have that buggy to drive up in? Does it belong to the man\ninside there?\"\n\n\"It belongs to him,\" said the driver, with a grin, and Margaret\nturned away in despair.\n\n\"The train was early,\" said a boy standing by, \"and perhaps the young\nlady's team will be along soon.\"\n\nMargaret, who had her purse in her hand, at once presented the\nboy with twenty-five cents, as an acknowledgment for the ray of\nencouragement he had volunteered. He bore it philosophically, and she\nreturned to the room.\n\n\"C\u00e9cile, it's only two miles to Miss Spelman's; suppose we walk; it\nwill be warmer than waiting here. Give me the bag, and you take the\nshawls, and we will inquire the way.\"\n\nShe accompanied these words with a look of indignation at the man who\nwas fortunate enough to have a buggy at his command; but to her great\nsurprise, he rose, and, approaching her, said:\n\n\"The train was early, and I expected Miss Spelman's carryall; but it\nis evidently not coming, and you must manage with my buggy.\"\n\n\"You are Doctor James?\" said Margaret with an inquisitive look.\n\n\"You are right; and you are Miss Lester,\" he replied. \"I am sorry you\nhave had to wait in the cold; but when I saw you had a companion, I\nthought it would be wiser to wait for the carryall. Miss Spelman said\nshe should probably send; but asked me, at any rate, to meet you. I\nwill drive you home and come back for your maid.\"\n\n\"But it's so cold here, and C\u00e9cile feels the cold more than I. Could\nwe not possibly go three in the buggy? Would it be too much for the\nhorse?\"\n\nThe doctor smiled for the first time; he was pleased by her thought\nfor her maid.\n\n\"You and I are good-sized people, but she is small. I think Rosanna\ncan stand the weight; but it will not do to start cold. I propose we\ngo over to the store and get thoroughly warmed.\"\n\n\"Oh! delightful,\" cried Margaret, \"the thought of being warm again is\nalmost too much for me.\"\n\nThe doctor led the way across the railroad track to a kind of variety\nstore, where there was certainly no reason to complain of the cold.\nThe air was stifling, and conveyed to Margaret's sense of smell the\nimpressions of soap, molasses, peppermint drops, brown paper, and\nonions, at one breath; but she was too grateful to be warm even to\nmake a face, which under other circumstances she would doubtless\nhave done. Seated in chairs before the energetic little stove, she\nand C\u00e9cile toasted hands and feet while the doctor went for the\nhorse. When he returned, they were quite ready to start, and the\nbag being stowed away in the box, they put on all their wrappings,\nby the doctor's advice, and packed themselves into the buggy. Jimmy\ncurled himself under his mistress's feet, the buffalo robe was well\ntucked in, and the sturdy-looking mare started with her load with a\nwillingness which showed she too was glad to have her face toward\nhome. It was cold enough in spite of their comfortable start, and,\nto make matters worse, Margaret's veil blew away; but she would not\nhave alluded to it for the world. The doctor seemed absorbed in his\ndriving, and C\u00e9cile occupied with her aching toes; and allowing it\nto escape seemed to her so feminine and weak-minded a proceeding\nthat she bore the cutting wind in silence rather than expose her\ncarelessness. Her gratitude to the doctor for rescuing her from her\nuncomfortable situation, and the genial feelings produced by her\nwarming at the stove, now gave way to reflections on this man's\nprevious behavior, as he sat wrapped in his shawl, in the cold little\nwaiting-room. What a hard-hearted, outrageous monster he must be! Why\ndid he not speak at once, and be sympathetic and kind? Of course he\nwas studying her, and no doubt criticising her, at that unfavorable\nmoment. It chafed her to think to what an inspection she had been\nexposed, and how utterly she had been at a disadvantage. At last she\nbroke the silence by saying abruptly,\n\n\"Does not extreme hunger add to one's capacity for being cold?\"\n\nShe intended to embarrass him by reminding him of his profession, but\nshe was disappointed; for he answered at once, with a slight movement\nof his mouth, not however a smile,\n\n\"Extreme hunger? Yes; especially such as the poor feel, who may have\ntasted nothing for two or three days, nor meat for as many months.\nHow long is it since you breakfasted?\"\n\n\"At eight,\" she replied shortly.\n\nThe doctor, remembering with a little compunction that he had both\nbreakfasted and dined, hastened to say,\n\n\"That is a long time for a person accustomed to regular meals. I am\nquite sure you will find a better reception in the matter of dinner\nthan you experienced at the station.\"\n\n\"I do not understand why my aunt did not send for me.\"\n\n\"Nor I; she said to me, 'I shall send the carryall, if possible;\nbut you will oblige me by meeting my niece, and if any thing should\nhappen to prevent my man's being there, you will bring her home.' I\nam sure only you and the dog were expected.\"\n\n\"Yes, I said my maid would probably come in a day or two; but she was\nable to get ready to accompany me.\"\n\nThen there was silence once more, till Dr. James drew up his horse\nbefore a well-clipped, flourishing hedge, and, getting out, opened\na small brown gate, and carried the bag and shawls up the neat\ngravelled path. The short afternoon had come to a close, though it\nwas scarcely four o'clock, and the firelight shone pleasantly out\nfrom the windows, where the curtains were drawn aside. The doctor\ndeposited the wrappings on the steps, said hastily, \"Good-by, Miss\nLester, I shall call on you as soon as possible,\" and was in his\nbuggy and driving quickly away before she had time to utter a word.\nShe had stood for a moment, expecting the door to be thrown open at\nonce; she even wondered that her aunt was not awaiting her on the\nthreshold; but as no one appeared, she gave the bell a rather decided\npull. Instantly the door was opened by the neatest of maids, in a\nwhite apron, who beamed upon the guests while she took the bag and\nshawls. Margaret walked at once toward the bright fire, which shone\nout of an open door, and there in the middle of the room stood a\nlittle lady, who met and embraced her, saying in an agitated voice,\n\n\"Welcome, my dearest niece, a thousand times!\"\n\n\"Thank you, aunt; I am almost perished! How pleasant the fire looks!\"\n\nMiss Spelman was trembling in every limb, but Margaret's decided\ntones, quite free from emotion of any kind, composed her. She drew\nan easy-chair to the fire, and then turned to C\u00e9cile, who stood\nhesitating in the hall.\n\n\"You brought your maid, did you not, dear Margaret? That is good; it\nwill make you more at home. Ann, I hope you will make Miss Lester's\nmaid quite comfortable. Her name, my dear? Oh! yes, Cecilia.\" And\nas the woman disappeared, she continued, \"I am glad you have so\nrespectable and steady an attendant, my dear; when I heard she was\nFrench, I feared she might be very dressy and flippant, and get\nrestless in our quiet little household.\"\n\nShe gently helped Margaret to lay aside her things; then, as she\nseated herself in the comfortable chair and held out hands and feet\nto the grateful flame, the little lady once more placed her hand on\nher shoulder, and kissed her forehead.\n\n\"For all the world like your poor father,\" she said softly. As\nMargaret was silent, she continued, \"But I must tell you why I did\nnot send for you. I beg your pardon, my dear child, for such apparent\nneglect. The fact is, I have a new man, and dare not trust him alone\nwith the horses, and I have a cold and was afraid to go out this raw\nday. If it had been milder, nothing should have kept me at home; but\nas I had asked our good doctor to meet you, I knew you would really\nbe provided for. Then, I thought it would seem so uncourteous to let\nhim give his valuable time to going to the station for you, and then\ndisappoint him of the pleasure of bringing you home. You see, I did\nnot look for your maid. O dear! how very rude you must think me.\" And\nthe poor lady stopped short, quite appalled at her own conduct, the\nimpropriety of which for the first time impressed her.\n\n\"No matter now, aunt, I'm safely here.\"\n\n\"And thankful I am to have you, dear; but to think that I should have\nallowed you to drive home alone with a strange young man!\"\n\n\"I was not alone with him.\"\n\n\"But I did not know that; and, O dear me! how did you all get here?\"\n\n\"Why, sandwiched, three in the buggy, of course; C\u00e9cile in the\nmiddle; it was the shortest way. He wanted to bring first me and\nthen C\u00e9cile, but I would not let him. However, don't worry about it\nnow, aunty. I would like to go to my room, I think, and make myself\npresentable; I am covered with cinders.\"\n\n\"Certainly. You will find a fire there, and, I hope, every thing you\nwant. If not, you must let me know.\" So saying, Miss Spelman led the\nway up-stairs to a good-sized room, where a little wood fire was\nburning and candles were lighted. The trunks were already there, and\nC\u00e9cile was unpacking and laying out what her mistress would want.\n\n\"We have tea, generally, at six; but I have ordered it to-day at\nfive, for I know you need both dinner and tea. Cecilia will find me\ndown-stairs if you want any thing.\" With these words, Miss Spelman\nwithdrew and closed the door.\n\n\"I have arrived at that period of starvation,\" remarked Margaret,\n\"when I am resigned to wait indefinitely for my food, provided it\ncomes at last.\" At that moment a knock announced Ann, who brought in\na waiter with cup and saucer and tea-things. \"Miss Spelman thought a\ncup of tea would be warming.\"\n\nVery soon Margaret was sitting in her wrapper and slippers, in a\nlittle rocking-chair, sipping her hot tea, while C\u00e9cile brushed and\narranged her hair. She began to feel fatigued; but that was rather\na delightful sensation, now that she had nothing to do but rest and\nbe comfortable. Before five, she went down to the parlor, where her\naunt once more received her with a little speech, and then came\nthe looked-for tea-dinner. It appeared that Miss Spelman knew what\nwas good as well as Mrs. Edgar, and Margaret, as she surveyed the\nwell-spread table, the spotless linen, the shining glass and silver,\nthe temptingly brown chicken before her, the spongy biscuit and\ndelicate cake, was glad to find that, at least, she would not starve.\n\n\"I begin to feel a sea-air appetite already,\" she exclaimed; \"and O\naunty! how good every thing tastes.\"\n\nMiss Selina was pleased, for she was a hospitable hostess; and when\nshe and Margaret were established before the fire, curtains drawn,\nand the lamp shining brightly, there was a mutual good feeling\nbetween them, which, from that time, nothing disturbed. Margaret,\nas she leaned back in her chair, holding a little screen before her\nface, had now time to examine her aunt more closely, and she studied\nher with considerable curiosity. She was decidedly _petite_, and so\nvery neat and trim about her dress that she made Margaret think of a\nfairy godmother. Her hair was white, although she was not yet sixty;\nshe wore a cap, and soft lace round her throat; her eyes were dark\nand bright, and her smile very sweet and cheerful. She must have\nbeen pretty, Margaret thought, and like that dear mother so well\nremembered.\n\nAfter answering a good many questions about her life in New York,\nMrs. Edgar, Jessie, and her lover, Margaret said rather abruptly,\n\n\"You see a good deal of Doctor James, don't you, aunt?\"\n\n\"Oh! almost every day, my dear. He has to drive very often over to\nSealing, and my house is right on his way. He feels quite attached\nto me, because, once when his sister was staying with him, she was\nsick, and I used to go and sit with her; and at last, when she was\ngetting well, and was able to be moved, I got her to come and make me\na visit; for I thought it must be dull for her, with her brother away\nso much. So he used to come every day to see about her, and he got\ninto the way of dropping in as if he belonged here, and he has kept\nit up ever since.\"\n\n\"What sort of a girl was the sister?\"\n\n\"Oh! she was a charming creature--pretty and picturesque; young, too,\nand very clever for her age; and the doctor thought every thing of\nher, though he used to find fault with her and try to improve her,\nand was always bringing some hard book for Lucy to read, or asking\nme to tell her this, or remind her of that, and not let her forget\nthe other, till I used to think the poor child would have been vexed\nwith both him and me; but she used to laugh and shake her pretty\nbrown curls, and make the best of it all. I grew to love that child,\nMargaret, and I confess to you, if you had not come to me, I would\nvery probably have offered to adopt her, and do for her as if she\nwere my own. I did not suppose you needed any money, my dear,\" she\nadded in an apologetic tone.\n\n\"Don't mention your money, please,\" cried Margaret. \"Dear aunty, I\ncan't manage what I've got now; why should I want any more? By all\nmeans make the pretty Lucy an heiress, and let her come and live\nhere, near her brother.\"\n\nMiss Spelman shook her head, and Margaret continued,\n\n\"But where does Lucy live, and where does the family come from\noriginally?\"\n\n\"They have had a country-seat in Maine for years, and are very nice\npeople, I would think; the doctor, at least, is a perfect gentleman.\nHe has been in the war, was wounded two or three times; and when it\nwas all over, came here because the old doctor was about to move\naway. They knew each other, and so Dr. James just quietly took the\nother's place, and has a great deal more than filled it ever since.\"\n\n\"But why does he choose to live in a little place like this? Jessie\ntold me something of his benevolence; but that doesn't seem reason\nenough to keep him here.\"\n\n\"That is the only reason, I am sure--that, and attachment to the\nplace and people. He does an immense amount of good, my dear; why,\nhe attends all the poor people, for miles around, for nothing!\"\n\n\"But then what does he live on?\"\n\n\"Certainly not on his fees. He has a little money of his own--enough\nfor such a place as this--and that leaves him free, as he says,\nto have no hard money feelings between him and his patients. The\nconsequence is, he is worshipped by the poor, and, in fact, by almost\nevery one both here and at Sealing; they give him no peace, and he\nhas to work like a horse all the time.\"\n\n\"I hope he enjoys it.\"\n\n\"He says he does; but I think the life is too hard for him.\"\n\n\"And does he intend to live here indefinitely?\"\n\n\"He never alludes to living anywhere else; but I hope he may marry\nsome day, and then, no doubt, he would go where his wife wished.\"\n\n\"Don't you think his wishes ought to be hers?\"\n\n\"Certainly, my dear Margaret, I think so; but then, I believe I'm\nold-fashioned.\" Miss Spelman was pleased, that was evident; and then\nshe said she knew her niece was a fine musician, but she was perhaps\n\"too tired to touch the instrument?\"\n\nMargaret smiled, and though she was tired certainly, and sleepy\nbesides, she went with a very good grace to \"the instrument,\" which\nshe found to be an old piano, excellent in its day, but now out of\ntune and jingling; the keys were yellow, and one pedal was broken,\nbut no speck of dust was to be seen inside or out, or on any thing\nelse in Miss Selina's house. Margaret, without thinking much about\nit, played some very modern music, such as she generally played in\nthe evenings at Mrs. Edgar's, deep and difficult music, playing\nwell and carefully, without notes; till she began to realize how\nimpossible any execution would be on such a piano. When she paused,\nMiss Spelman said rather plaintively,\n\n\"That is very fine, my dear; but my taste is not up to the present\nstandard. And--do you play from note, dear Margaret?\"\n\nOn receiving an affirmative reply, she went into an adjoining closet,\nand brought out one or two old music-books, marked on the covers, \"M.\nand S. Spelman,\" and with Margaret and Selina alternately written\non the music within. Margaret had never seen such a collection of\ncurious, old, simple music. She smiled as she played, to see her\naunt's hands beating time, and watched the absorbed expression of\nher face, varying from a smile of content to a look of sadness and\nregret. As she at last closed the piano, she said,\n\n\"I will play these pieces over when I am by myself, and then I shall\ndo them more justice when I play them for you again. Forgive my many\nblunders.\"\n\nThen came cake, fruit, and wine, at nine o'clock, and then Margaret\nwas glad to say \"good-night\" and go to her pleasant room, where she\nfound, to her great satisfaction, that she was soothed to sleep by\nthe breaking of the waves on Shellbeach.\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nA CONFIDENTIAL LETTER.\n\nMY DEAREST JESSIE: I have received your most welcome letter, and only\nwish I could tell you how good it was to hear from you. It made me\nlong to see you, dear; but as I am resolved I will not be so weak as\nto give up and go back to you yet, I will not sentimentalize now, nor\ndwell on my feelings, which, I assure you, are unusually tender for\nme.\n\nI have now been here three whole days, and they seem as many\nmonths; the snow-storm which began the night after my arrival,\nlasted perseveringly till this morning, when there was a beautiful\nclear-away, and my spirits, which were rather drooping, rose at once.\nIt was very cold, and Aunt Selina was afraid to go out, and I was\nlazy, and passed the morning in the house. After dinner, however, I\nbecame desperate, put on my shortest dress and rubber boots, and went\nforth with Jimmy on an exploring expedition. The snow was very deep;\nbut I needed exercise, and enjoyed immensely plunging about in the\nfresh drifts, and getting rid, at the same time, if I must confess\nit, of a fair amount of wrath and resentment, of which your paragon\nof a doctor was the cause. Only think, my dear, of his allowing me\nto be three days here without calling! In such weather, too, when he\nmust have known I was penned up in the house with nothing to amuse\nme, (not that I didn't amuse myself very well, but he could not have\nknown that.) How did he know that I mightn't have caught a severe\ncold in that horrid waiting-room at the station, or driving with him\nin his freezing chaise? And after leaving me in that abrupt way,\nwaiting on the steps here, without a single polite word to me or Aunt\nSelina, as if he said, \"I have been dreadfully bored by having to\nbring you here; now let me get away as fast as I can!\" Well, I was\nprovoked with him, and with myself for caring; but I grew pleasanter\nevery step I took; and when I at last found myself on a high bank\nright over the sea, and the pretty little beach with the dear, blue\nwaves breaking and foaming below me, I was in a state of exhilaration\nand delight that I can't describe. I could hardly have torn myself\naway, except that I was very cold; and the sunset light had almost\nfaded when I got home. Then, my dear, what do you think? Aunt Selina\ngreeted me with, \"O Margaret! what a pity you went out; here Doctor\nJames has been waiting nearly an hour for you, and he wanted so much\nto see you, and was so sorry that he couldn't come before! But, my\ndear, he has been away, and only got home this morning.\" That was\nfunny, was it not? \"He looked so nice,\" Aunt Selina said. \"I wish\nyou could once see him nicely dressed; he doesn't take enough pains\nwith himself generally.\" Now, I know that aunty was as much surprised\nas I that this call had not been made before, and a great deal more\ndisturbed. She praises the doctor on every occasion, and I am sure\nshe wanted him to make a favorable impression on me. She has been\nvery curious about our drive from the station; but I have said very\nlittle about it, except that I thought we were all of us cold and\ncross.\n\nWell, I was nicely wet from my snowy walk; but after I had changed my\ndress and had my tea, I felt splendidly. At eight o'clock the bell\nrang--a wonderful circumstance, so far--and after a little delay in\nthe hall, in walked the doctor. I suppose he could not bear that\nhis get-up should be thrown away, and he really looked very nice\nindeed. I am sure he prides himself on his feet and hands, which\nare small--not in themselves, but for his size--and well shaped.\nHis clothes were any thing but fashionable; but they fitted him\nwell, and looked as if he were at home in them, and something in his\ngeneral appearance made me feel that he had intended to do me honor,\nand I was quite mollified toward him. Aunt Selina was enraptured. I\nwas--can you imagine it?--a little embarrassed, having been wholly\ntaken by surprise at his making his appearance; he was calm and\nat his ease. He explained his apparent neglect of me, expressed\nregret at finding me out this afternoon, and asked about my walk,\netc. He is provoking in many ways, Jessie, but in one especially:\nhe is so stingy of his smiles; I can express it in no other way. He\nis the most serious person I ever saw; even when it would be polite\nto smile, he will not; but moves the muscles round his mouth in a\npeculiar way that makes me want to say to him, \"Well, why don't you\ndo it? It won't hurt you!\" His eyes are not particularly large, but\ngray, and look as if they saw as much as mine, only he does not stare\nas I do, but seems to take in every thing with one glance. I did\nnot find him difficult to talk to, as I imagined I should, but am\nsurprised to find how much he knows. He asked me to play, but did not\nlike the piece; and when I tried him with a little of Aunt Selina's\nmusic--which I described to you in my first letter, you remember--he\nasked for Beethoven. That he enjoyed, I believe, and a few of my\nlittle French airs, one of which he recognized, and I discovered, to\nmy astonishment, that he had been abroad. He spoke of organ music,\nand when I told him about my desire to learn to play on the organ,\nsaid he thought I could do so here, as there were both a good organ\nand organist at Sealing. And, if he arranges it so, I am to take\nlessons once or twice a week, and practise in the little church here.\nWell, dear Jessie, this letter must come to a close, as I am sleepy.\nGive my best love to your dear mother; write soon and tell me all\nabout your own affairs and Philip.\n\n    Always your loving\n                                         MARGARET.\n\n    SHELLBEACH, Dec. 21.\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nA SLEIGH-RIDE.\n\nOn the morning after Margaret had written the letter to her friend,\ngiven above, she was finishing her breakfast at about nine o'clock,\nwhile little Miss Spelman bustled about in her china-closet, and\naround the room, when a jingle of bells was heard, and in a moment\nmore, Dr. James appeared at the dining-room door.\n\n\"Miss Lester, do you feel in the mood for a sleigh-ride? I have to go\nover to Sealing, and shall be glad to take you.\"\n\n\"Oh! yes,\" cried Margaret, jumping up from the table, \"of all things\nwhat I would like best; but I must change my dress, I am afraid. I\nwill not be ten minutes, if you can wait.\"\n\n\"I have a call to make near here, and will come back for you.\"\n\nIn a short time Margaret appeared, dressed in a dark blue suit with\nblack dog-skin furs, and a very jaunty round cap to match on her head.\n\n\"Will you be warm enough?\" asked the doctor, surveying her.\n\n\"I have my cloak besides,\" said Margaret, displaying a very thick and\nheavy mantle, of every color of the rainbow.\n\nAs they drove off, Doctor James remarked,\n\n\"You will set this quiet little place on fire, with your bright\ncolors; we don't see such brilliant things here very often.\"\n\n\"Gay colors are the fashion,\" said Margaret, \"and I almost always\nwear them. I get very tired of them, however, and wish my style were\nnot _prononc\u00e9_. I quite long sometimes to wear neutral tints, and\ncool, delicate colors.\"\n\n\"Miss Edgar wears such shades, does she not? She is so perfectly\nrefined and lady-like.\"\n\nMargaret glanced at him quickly and answered,\n\n\"She does, when she is willing to take the trouble; but I generally\nhave to insist upon her dressing becomingly. When we were in Paris,\nwe were both told about our different styles, and how we should\ndress; and I think it is worth while to consider the subject, and\nJessie does not; that is all.\"\n\n\"Does not Miss Edgar care for dress?\"\n\n\"I think she does; but for dress without any reference to herself.\nShe is very fond of pretty things, and would be quite contented to\nwear a rose-colored bonnet, or a bird-of-paradise evening dress, if I\ndid not prevent it. You admire Miss Edgar very much, do you not, Dr.\nJames?\"\n\n\"As much as I can admire a lady I have never seen. But why should you\nthink that I admire her?\"\n\n\"And if she were not already engaged, you would like to marry her\nyourself, would you not?\"\n\nMargaret spoke impulsively; and before she had uttered the last words\nwould gladly have swallowed the sentence whole, but it was too late.\nThe doctor's face flushed, and he said very slowly,\n\n\"Did Miss Edgar show you that letter?\"\n\n\"Yes--I mean no; that is, I mean, Dr. James, that I took it away from\nher and read it myself. She did not want me to see it; it was all my\nfault. Jessie is gentle, and I am rough, and I tyrannize over her\nvery often.\"\n\nMargaret's voice sounded remorseful, and the doctor softened.\n\n\"There was no reason why you should not have seen that letter, any\nmore than any other. I would not have Miss Edgar other than Philip's\nwife for any thing in the world; and my saying I would have liked her\nmyself, was meant only as a joke, and I am sure she understood it so.\nIndeed, I was far from being in earnest when I wrote that letter.\"\n\nIt was now Margaret's turn to change color, and her face burned; an\nunusual and painful thing for her. She felt at that moment as if she\nwould like to find herself on the opposite side of the world. What an\nabsurd position she was in! This man must regard her as a fool, or\nworse. What business had she to be at Shellbeach at all, or here in\nthis sleigh, beside one on whom she had not the smallest claim, and\nwho had no reason to think her any thing but a forward, unlady-like\ngirl, as she was? These, and many equally disagreeable thoughts\nrushed through her mind, before Dr. James said pleasantly,\n\n\"Is it possible you keep up your city hours here, and breakfast at\nnine o'clock? How luxurious your life must be!\"\n\n\"Does nine seem late to you?\" asked Margaret, making an effort to\nspeak carelessly; \"it is early to me. When we used to come home from\nparties at three or four in the morning, we breakfasted at eleven or\neven twelve. But there is no excuse for sleeping late here, I know; I\nmight go to bed at eight o'clock in the evening, except when we have\na visitor, as we did last night. But you see there are no bells; my\nroom is dark, and C\u00e9cile never comes in till I ring for her. Then,\nAunt Selina says she does not mind.\"\n\n\"Miss Spelman is not a very early riser herself. But, Miss Lester, I\nthink a poor man's household ought to be up with the dawn.\" He smiled\nat her in a friendly way as he spoke, and Margaret laughed.\n\n\"And the mistress of a poor man's household ought to call all the\nmembers of the family, ought she not?\"\n\n\"I think so; that is a very important matter. Yet I know few things\nin our daily life which require more heroism than getting up in the\nmorning at the right time. Though I ought to be accustomed to being\ncalled at any and every hour, I never find it grows easy to forsake\nmy pillow; and whenever it is not imperatively necessary for me to\nget up, I prolong my morning nap in the most cowardly way.\"\n\n\"Were you in earnest when you said getting up early was heroism?\"\n\n\"It is a grand name for a small matter, certainly; but I was in\nearnest when I said it.\"\n\n\"I should so like to be a heroine! It is almost worth while to try\nthe experiment.\"\n\nThey now drove into the main street of the town of Sealing, and there\nDr. James showed Margaret a bookstore, the circulating library, and\npointed out one or two more shops, and asked her if she thought\nshe could occupy herself for half an hour, while he visited a few\npatients.\n\n\"I may be gone even longer than that,\" he said, \"and it would be very\ncold for you to sit in the sleigh and wait.\"\n\n\"I should like to explore the town very well,\" she answered; \"and I\nwill meet you in an hour's time wherever you say. O Dr. James! I want\na sled very much; I delight in coasting. Could I get a good one here?\"\n\n\"There are no toy-shops, properly speaking, but there is an excellent\ncarpenter across the street, and he would make you a satisfactory\nsled, I have no doubt.\"\n\n\"There is coasting about here, I hope?\"\n\n\"Yes, there are one or two capital hills. If you like, we will go to\nthe carpenter's now, before I leave you; perhaps my advice on the\nsubject would be acceptable.\"\n\nThey ordered the sled, and Margaret added, with a sideway glance\nat Dr. James, that the word \"Enterprise\" was to be printed in red\nletters on one side, and \"1867\" on the other. The apothecary's shop\nwas appointed as the place of rendezvous, and the doctor drove away.\n\nHe was back again first; but after waiting and wondering a few\nminutes, she came round the corner, looking at her watch, with a\nbright color, and her dress white with snow.\n\n\"I am on time,\" she cried; \"just an hour, Dr. James; and I have had\nsuch a splendid time! But I have a few things at the different shops;\nwill you stop for them?\"\n\nFrom a small shop, combining the establishments of a small\nwatch-maker, a locksmith, and a bell-hanger, a man came out with a\nparcel which Margaret insisted on holding in her own hands all the\nway home.\n\n\"What do you think it is?\" she asked.\n\n\"I can't imagine what you should want from that shop, but the shape\nis very much like a clock.\"\n\n\"You are right; it is an alarm-clock.\"\n\nDr. James smiled, but made no comment; and as they drove home, she\ngave him an account of the hour she had spent alone.\n\n\"I got one or two books from the library; pretty trashy, I should\nthink, but it was entertaining to read the names of the well-worn\nvolumes on the shelves. I visited the dry-goods store, and then\ndetermined to explore; and pretty soon I found a little street which\nwas one steep hill, down which some small boys were coasting. They\nseemed harmless and meek, and after bestowing upon them a paper\nof sugar-plums I had just bought, I requested the loan of a sled.\nYou should have seen the astonishment depicted on their faces,\nand heard the giggles and rapture when, taking the largest sled\nfrom the unresisting hand of its owner, I asked for instruction as\nto establishing myself upon it and starting, and then went full\nspeed down the hill, regardless of the houses on either side and\nthe shouts of my friends above me. It was splendid, Dr. James! I\ndon't know when I have enjoyed any thing so much! Well, I dragged my\nsled up again, and asked for six more coasts, hinting at more candy\nto be forthcoming; but I found all offers of compensation quite\nunnecessary, as the little fellows were as enraptured as I at the\nperformance, and each begged me pathetically to try his sled. But I\nheld to my first choice; and though on the third coast I upset and\nrolled in the snow, I persevered till I found my hour was almost up,\nand then abandoned my sled to its owner.\"\n\nDr. James seemed much entertained by this description, and Margaret\nadded,\n\n\"But for the credit of human nature, and especially of boy nature,\nwhich I have always considered to be remorseless to the last degree,\nI must tell you that when I fell off my sled into the snow the boys\ndid not laugh at and deride me, but came running down the hill to see\nif I were hurt--a circumstance which pleased me very much.\"\n\nThe drive back to Shellbeach seemed all too short for Margaret; she\nwas left, as before, on the doorstep with her several bundles; but\nthis time she entered as a member of the family, glowing with the\nexercise and almost as noisy as Jimmy, who came barking and leaping\nto welcome his mistress. She gave a detailed account of her drive to\nher aunt, ending with the exclamation, \"And Dr. James both smiled\nand laughed! I feel that I have achieved a triumph!\"\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nANOTHER LETTER.\n\nThe following is a letter which Dr. James wrote to his friend Philip:\n\n     \"You ask me to tell you about Jessie's friend, who has come to\n     stay with my old crony, Miss Spelman, and I see that you are\n     curious to know my sentiments regarding her. I also suspect, from\n     the tone of your remarks, that you think it would be a very good\n     thing for a poor doctor like me, etc., etc. That this coincides\n     with Miss Selina's course of reasoning on this matter, I am pretty\n     certain; for before Miss Lester came she was continually praising\n     her to me, and now I can see that every opportunity is improved\n     to bring us together. Would you believe it, Philip?--when the\n     young lady arrived, Miss Spelman manoeuvred so as to give me a\n     _t\u00eate-\u00e0-t\u00eate_ drive with her from the station to the house! She\n     was disappointed in her plans, as there were both a maid and a dog\n     to be packed into my chaise besides Miss Lester. But what seems so\n     plain to other people's eyes, I cannot say is so to mine. You want\n     a description of her, and add a hope that I have found the ideal\n     of our college days. I laugh as I recall that ideal, and think\n     of the reality before my mind's eye. Picture to yourself, then,\n     a tall young woman--five feet eight inches, I should say--large\n     in proportion, and a decided brunette. She is called handsome,\n     as you know, but I do not agree to this; though if the adjective\n     were _showy_, I should have no objection to make. Her style is\n     rather loud, or, as she herself says, '_prononc\u00e9_.' She has a pair\n     of very brown, inquisitive eyes, which see, I am sure, much more\n     than they have any right to see. She has a good deal of color, but\n     not the changing blush we used to talk of. Her dress? Of course I\n     cannot give you a correct description of that; but the first time\n     I saw her in the house, she wore very deep purple with ornaments\n     of gold, a gold band on her hair, and long, barbarous eardrops.\n     The next time, in the morning, she was dressed (I am not joking)\n     in bright scarlet, worked all over with black; and she went to\n     drive with me in a round fur cap that would have been appropriate\n     to a young swell in New York, but hardly to a lady. But all these\n     objections are, after all, minor, when I come to the great one;\n     my dear fellow, she is an heiress! Now, you know very well my mind\n     on this subject; and I know you will think of my favorite verse,\n\n        'Where I want of riches find,\n        Think what with them I would do,\n        That without them dare to woo.'\n\n     \"But in this case I feel sure that I should not be a disinterested\n     lover. I could never forget her money. By the way, I suspect that\n     she did not intend me to know she was wealthy; Jessie's note gave\n     the impression that she had, as I wished, enough to secure her own\n     comfort; but Miss Spelman took care to let me understand how very\n     well her niece was provided with 'earthly goods.'\n\n     \"I see I am allowing myself to find fault with Miss Lester and\n     criticise her, a thing I have resolved I will not do. I will\n     therefore suppress a good deal more of disapproval I was going to\n     write, and see what I can tell you in her praise. In the first\n     place, I think she is good-tempered; I have seen her thoughtful\n     of her maid, and good-natured when she was both cold and hungry.\n     She is entertaining, intelligent, and companionable. I enjoyed her\n     society when I drove her over to Sealing, and she is wonderfully\n     fresh and simple in her tastes for a _blase_ New Yorker, surfeited\n     with gayeties as she has been. She is a good musician, though she\n     does not sing. Her hands are her best feature: large and shapely\n     and well kept; they are also warm, smooth, and womanly.\n\n     \"Where is my dream, Philip? Would not your gentle Jessie more\n     nearly fulfil it? You will say that dreams 'go by contraries;'\n     true perhaps of those we frame at night, unconsciously; but does\n     that wise maxim hold good of day-dreams and castles in the air\n     also? Now, you have chosen well and wisely for yourself, and\n     my best wish is that you and your loving helpmate may live to\n     enjoy all the bliss you hope for; but I must wait until my wife\n     manifests herself, as I am sure she will, unmistakably, and for\n     that I am content to wait until I am an old man.\"\n\nIt will be seen from this letter that Dr. James had not disclosed,\neven to his old friend, the secret of Margaret's visit to Shellbeach;\nneither was Jessie more communicative on the subject; for they were\nboth rather ashamed of the affair. Margaret herself, to tell the\ntruth, was not free from a like embarrassment; there was something\nmanly and unassuming about the doctor, a freedom from all pretension\nand assertion, that made her feel, when with him, quiet and almost\ndiffident. This, however, she did not acknowledge to herself; and her\nhigh spirits determined her to carry out her plan, and brave all the\nobstacles which her appreciation of the circumstances suggested to\nher. From one point of view, her coming was a success; Miss Spelman\nwas charmed with her, and spoke of her remaining indefinitely. She\nmade much of and petted her in a way Margaret was not accustomed to,\nand which was very pleasant to her. She could almost imagine, now,\nwhat it would be to have a mother's love and care during these years\nof her youthful womanhood. True, her aunt was no support, and her\nadvice was not always wise; but Margaret was both by nature and habit\nself-reliant, and the person was not come, she thought, to whom she\ncould abandon the reins of government, and in whose favor she might\nabdicate.\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nFROM THE LABORING CLASSES.\n\nAfter a week had passed in her aunt's well-ordered household,\nMargaret received a few ceremonious calls from the ladies of\nShellbeach and Sealing, which, in the course of another week, she\nreturned with due formality with her aunt. The visiting acquaintance\nof Miss Spelman at Shellbeach consisted of a few elderly ladies, of\nwhom Margaret saw but little during her visit, though they were kind\nand cordial, and always gave her a pleasant welcome to their houses.\n\nThere was one caller, however, of whom Margaret was destined to see\na good deal, and who deserves a more particular description. She\nwas a lady who might have been between forty and fifty, who came\nwalking into the house without ringing, one windy evening, in rubber\nboots, with which she had been making herself a path in the newly\nfallen snow. She was tall and thin, with heavy eye-brows, and rather\nmasculine bearing and manners, but a very genial smile beamed on her\nlips and in her eyes. Her voice was loud but cheerful, and she gave\nMargaret a warm squeeze of the hand and a good, steady look in the\neye, that seemed to show she was disposed for friendliness.\n\n\"Well now, Martha,\" said Miss Spelman, helping her guest off with\nhood and cloak, and wheeling up a comfortable chair for her to the\nfire, \"where have you been all this long time? And how are you and\nyour poor old father? How does the house stand this cold winter, and\nhow are you getting along altogether?\"\n\nThe visitor seated herself in the chair, tucked up her plain brown\ngown over her knees, and clasped her rough, strong-looking hands,\nseeming to enjoy the cheery blaze; then she answered rather slowly,\n\n\"We are very well off, thank you, Miss Spelman. Father's about the\nsame as usual; he misses the garden now the snow has come. The house\nis pretty tight, and I keep the fires going with Norah's help. You\nknow Dr. James got Norah for us, and a more willing, good-natured\ncreature I never wish to see. She really seems to have brought\nsunshine into the house, and says, 'May the queen of heaven send you\ngood health, sir!' and, 'May the blessed saints look out for you,\nMiss Martha!' quite in the old-country fashion.\"\n\n\"I don't know about Irish help,\" said Miss Spelman; \"I never can get\nalong with them. I haven't had one these ten years, since my poor\nold Bridget died; and then they're always so set about getting to\nchurch, and dreadfully put out if they are prevented now and then.\"\n\n\"Do you think so? Well, Norah says to me, 'I dearly love to go to\nholy Mass, and to pay my respects on the saints' days; but the priest\ntells me to mind my duty in the house first, and I wouldn't feel easy\nto go and leave that poor lamb (one of her names for my father) with\nnone to look after his dinner.'\"\n\n\"Well, long may she prove a treasure, that's all,\" and the old lady\nshook her head doubtfully.\n\n\"You've come to a pretty place, Miss Lester,\" said Martha Burney;\n\"it's pretty enough now, with its fresh white dress of snow; but I\ndon't know what you'll say to it when the young green comes out, and\nthe birds begin to sing. But what do you find to do with yourself?\"\n\n\"Nothing very useful yet. I have given my attention principally to\ncoasting; I have got a new sled, and have found some charming coasts\nabout here. I go out before breakfast.\"\n\n\"Bless me! how many ages is it, I wonder, since I did that?\" cried\nMiss Burney. \"Then you do not keep late hours in the morning?\"\n\n\"I did at first, through force of habit; but now I have an\nalarm-clock, and try getting up at six, and dressing without a fire.\"\n\n\"Very well, very well indeed, for a New Yorker! Ah! I see you will\ndo for the country. You must never go away, but make up your mind to\nsettle down here.\"\n\n\"That's what I mean to have her do,\" said Miss Spelman; \"and Margaret\nsaid she would consider the subject.\"\n\nMiss Burney's call lasted a full hour; then she enveloped herself in\ncloak and hood, and shaking Margaret once more warmly by the hand\ntook her departure.\n\n\"Who is she, aunt? I think she must be a character, and mean to\ncultivate her acquaintance.\"\n\n\"Yes, she has a story. Her father--lamb, indeed!\" cried Miss Spelman,\ninterrupting herself; \"that Norah had better call him 'poor wolf;' to\nbe sure he is reaping the fruits of his misdeeds, but he has richly\ndeserved his troubles. Well, he was a swindler; that is all. His\npoor wife died of the shame when the biggest of his robberies came\nto light, and he went steadily down-hill, with this brave daughter\ntrying to keep him straight. He spent one or two poor little legacies\nshe had left her, and at last became the broken-down, imbecile old\nman he is now. When he was too feeble to prevent her, Martha took him\nout of the great city where he lived, and they somehow found their\nway here; and then she went to work and has supported him ever since.\nShe teaches in the public school over in Sealing; she is the head\nlady teacher now, and with that, and a little she has had left her\nwithin a few years, she supports herself and him.\"\n\n\"Is it not a hard life for her?\"\n\n\"Very, but she prefers obscurity; and that is the best employment she\ncan get here. She is a fine woman, independent and brave, owing no\none any thing and taking care of herself. She had a lover once, they\nsay,\" continued Miss Selina, dropping her voice; \"but when it all\ncame to light about her father's transactions, of course she released\nhim.\"\n\n\"And he accepted it?\"\n\n\"Why, certainly he did, dear Margaret; no man would wish to marry a\nwoman with such a father.\"\n\nMargaret drummed with her foot on the fender, but made no reply.\n\n\"I like Martha Burney's company, and I try to make her come here\noften; but it is hard to induce her to leave her father. She says she\nhas to be away from him so much of each day, that it is not right to\nlet him pass any more time alone.\"\n\n\"Well, I suppose she would not object to my going to see her.\"\n\n\"She would be delighted to see you. She has all her evenings, and\nWednesday and Saturday afternoons. She is very fond of young people.\"\n\nThe Sealing callers do not demand a particular description. There\nwere a few young ladies, none of whom Margaret much liked; she\nthought them assuming and silly. One of them crowned her other\noffences by replying to a question of Margaret's about Miss Burney,\n\"Oh! yes, very estimable person, I believe; I do not know her. Were\nyou aware that she teaches in the public school?\"\n\n    TO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\n\n\nTHE IMMUTABILITY OF THE SPECIES.[57]\n\n\nI.\n\nFor a century and a half, the attention of the scientific world has\nbeen repeatedly called to theories purporting to prove the evolution\nof the species. Before the last dozen years, they elicited nothing\nbut deserved contempt from those conversant with the phenomena of\nwhich they treat. Their absurdity was transparent, alike in their\nconclusion and in the processes by which that conclusion was held to\nhave been reached. They were in succession fully refuted. But there\narose a class of men, somewhat superior in intellect and ingenuity to\nthe propounders of these speculations, who were imbued with similar\natheistic principles. They directed all their efforts toward the\nconception of a theory more capable than the others of attaining a\nrespectable scientific _status_. It would have been matter of great\nsurprise, then, if this concentration of intellectual energy had not\nresulted in something sufficiently plausible to startle the world.\n\nIn the year 1859, Mr. Charles Darwin, one of the first naturalists\nof England, propounded his theory of development, in a work termed\n_The Origin of Species_. This purported to be a full and conclusive\nconfirmation of the hypothesis of evolution. The theory was elaborate\nand ingenious, and on its appearance was immediately advocated by\nmany men to whom it was not wholly unexpected. Its congruity with\ntheir atheistic views can alone furnish an adequate explanation of\nthe haste with which they declared themselves its advocates. This\nharmony with preconceived ideas was confessedly the chief inducement\nurging them to accept the theory. Hear Mr. Herbert Spencer's\nconception of the spirit in which a person should approach the\nsubject: \"Before it can be ascertained how organized beings have been\ngradually evolved, there must be reached the conviction that they\n_have_ been gradually evolved.\" The italics are his own. Mr. George\nHenry Lewes, in an article in the _Fortnightly Review_ for April 1st,\n1868, says:\n\n     \"There can be little doubt that the acceptance or rejection\n     of Darwinism has, in the vast majority of cases, been wholly\n     determined by the monistic or dualistic attitude of the mind.\n     And this explains, what would otherwise be inexplicable, the\n     surprising fervor and facility with which men, wholly incompetent\n     to appreciate the evidence for or against natural selection, have\n     adopted or 'refuted' it.\"\n\nThat Mr. Lewes and other really able men have been so influenced,\nwe entertain not the slightest doubt. But their failure to discover\nand appreciate the evidence against the theory, we ascribe not to\nincompetency, but to the bias of a foregone conclusion. We hail with\ndelight the efforts of these men to sustain the theory, confident\nthat, the greater the light thrown upon it, the more glaringly\npalpable will become its absurdity.\n\nWe purpose to show, in this and other articles, that the facts which\nare seemingly so congruous with the conception of evolution are in\nreality grossly at variance with it, and strictly in accordance with\nthe doctrine of special creations. We will proceed at once to their\nconsideration.\n\nVariations form the data of Darwin's theory. These, as facts, cannot\nbe disputed. Variation is everywhere seen. Scarcely any species,\neither animal or vegetable, has escaped this tendency. While some\nspecies have not presented differences among their individuals\nsufficiently marked for the formation of varieties, a multitude of\nother species display modifications which form the characteristics\nof dozens of widely distinct breeds. Not less than one hundred and\nfifty distinct strains and varieties have descended from the original\nwild pigeon, _columba livia_. All these varieties result from man's\ncareful selection, and his judicious pairing of those individuals\nwhich possess the required modifications. This he does in sure\nreliance on the law of heredity, which transmits to the offspring\nthe most minute peculiarities of the parents, saving, of course,\nwhen they are brought into conflict with opposite characters. These\nvariations are both in the direction of increase and in the direction\nof decrease. Here we find a variety formed by the appearance of a\nmodification not observable in the species under nature, and there\na variety formed by the total or partial suppression of one or more\ncharacters. Now, few portions of the organization are incapable of\nmodification. Darwin has conclusively shown that even the bones and\ninternal organs have been greatly modified. To realize fully the\nextent and scope of variation, it is necessary to consult Darwin's\nlate work, _Animals and Plants under Domestication_. Many of the\nmodifications--especially those most widely divergent--constitute\ndifferences greater than those which distinguish species from\nspecies, and, in some few cases, genus from genus.\n\nIt may here be thought that we have made too great concessions; that\nthe logical and inevitable conclusion from the facts, as we state\nthem, is the evolution of the species. Not so. For the more numerous\nand the more widely divergent the modifications are shown to be, the\nmore easily will we be able to prove to demonstration the fixity of\nthe species.\n\nAs these varieties (or incipient species, as Darwin conceives them\nto be) were formed through the selection by man of slight successive\nmodifications, Darwin affects to believe that variations arose in\nthe wild state; that they were accumulated and preserved by nature\nby a process analogous to man's selection; and that by the long\ncontinued accumulation and conservation, through countless ages, of\nthese modifications, the species have evolved from one another. This\nselective power of nature he infers from the struggle for existence\nconstantly carried on in the wild state, wherein the weak succumb,\nand the fittest, strongest, and most vigorous survive, and, according\nto the theory, attain to a higher development.\n\nMany objections have been urged against Darwin's theory. Some have\nquestioned the efficiency of natural selection; and others have\ncontended that selection necessarily implies a selecter. Some have\nconsidered Darwinism sufficiently disproved by the absence of the\ntransitional links between the different species. Others have\nasserted the inconceivableness of the primordial differentiation of\nparts in organisms when they all presented the simplest structure.\nAnother argument has been adduced from the tendency of domesticated\nanimals and plants, when neglected, to recur to the ancestral form\nunder nature. Some assume a limit to variation; while others have\ncontended that domestication of itself has introduced something\nplastic into organisms, enabling them to vary, and that, therefore,\nthe analogy drawn between animals and plants under domestication\nand those under nature is inadmissible. Others assert that domestic\nanimals and plants have been rendered in an especial manner\nsubservient to the uses and purposes of man. In conformity with\nthis view, they also affirm that the conception of species is, for\nthat reason, not applicable to the creatures under domestication.\nFor ourselves, we concede that the analogy between domesticated and\nnatural animals and plants is a just one, in the light in which the\nphenomena of variation are generally regarded. For we wholly dissent\nfrom the opinion of the introduction by domestication of any thing\nplastic into organisms, and firmly believe in the operation of\nsecondary causes in the formation of varieties.\n\nThese arguments, in the form in which they are adduced, are\ninconclusive. Their weakness springs from an error into which those\nwho have urged them have fallen, which vitiates at the start all\ntheir reasoning. To this error we shall presently advert. But while\nwe cannot concur in their premises, we have something more than an\nintuition of the truth of their common conclusion.\n\nThe facts, of which the _Animals and Plants under Domestication_\nis a vast repertory, admit of a theory more conformable than that\nof Darwin to the phenomena of variation; a theory which fully\naccounts for the appearance of the profitable modifications under\ndomestication, (confessedly inexplicable on Darwin's theory,) and\nfor the formation of races under nature; a theory admitting of\nstill further variation; and which is at the same time strictly\nin accordance with the doctrines of special creations and of the\nimmutability of the species. This teleological explanation, of\nwhich we conceive the phenomena of variation to be susceptible, we\nwill render amenable to all the canons of scientific research. And\nin doing so, we will rely for our proofs upon no evidence but that\nfurnished us by noted evolutionists.\n\nThe seeming concurrence of all the evidence in favor of Darwinism\nresults from a misconception by all of the true nature of its data.\nIn all the arguments adduced by the advocates of special creation in\ndisproof of Darwin's hypotheses, these variations have been tacitly\nadmitted to arise by evolution. That they have thus arisen seems to\nbe taken for granted. In this admission lies their error. Upon this\ncurrent conception of varietal evolution rests the whole evolution\nhypothesis. Upon the validity of this assumption we join issue with\nDarwin, as we conceive that upon this point the whole question\nhinges. For it is not a little illogical to concede the evolution of\nvarieties, and to deny the evolution of species. If we can show that\nthis assumption is invalid, the whole evolution fabric will fall.\n\nDarwin tacitly assumes that the existing state of nature is\nthe normal or primordial condition of animals and plants. The\ndifficulty hitherto experienced in confuting his errors springs from\nacquiescence in this assumption. True it is that Darwin does not\nbelieve in the validity of this assumption, but merely makes it to\nshow the inconceivableness of the negation of evolution. With him\na species is not fixed but fluctuating, and is merely a subjective\nconception, having no objective reality. Believing in the converse\nassumption, we advance the following theory: _That animals and plants\nhave degenerated under nature, and that the favorable modifications\narising under domestication are due to reversion to the perfect type_.\n\nDarwin, in treating of variations, refers them indiscriminately to\nreversion and to evolution. This he does according to no law, rule,\nmethod, or formula. The mere circumstance that he has one subject\nunder consideration, suffices to induce him to ascribe to reversion a\nmodification which, in another portion of his work, he, with strange\ninconsistency, attributes to \"spontaneous variability.\" He affects\nto deem it a sufficient answer to the ascription of characters to\nreversion, to appeal to the absence of such characters in the species\nunder nature. If the assumption of degeneration and subsequent\nfavorable reversion can lay even the least claim to tenability,\nthis answer is in no wise satisfactory. If it can be conclusively\nshown that most, if not all, creatures in a state of nature, are in\na degenerated condition, then the irresistible inference will be,\nin the absence of any other rational explanation, that favorable\nvariations are ascribable to reversion.\n\nWhile, as Herbert Spencer says, \"a comparison of ancient and modern\nmembers of the types which have existed from paleozoic and mesozoic\ntimes down to the present day shows that the total amount of change\n(in animals) is not relatively great, and that it is not manifestly\ntoward a higher organization,\" paleontology furnishes us with\nmany facts showing the great size of ancient mammals, and marked\ndegeneracy in their descendants. Thus, Darwin concurs with Bell,\nCuvier, Nilsson, and others in the belief that European cattle--the\nContinental and Pembroke breeds, and the Chillingham cattle--are the\ndegenerate descendants of the great urus, (_bos primigenius_,) with\nwhich they cannot now sustain a comparison, so greatly have they\ndegenerated. C\u00e6sar describes the urus as being not much inferior in\nsize to the elephant. An entire skull of one, found in Perthshire,\nmeasures one yard in length, while the span of the horn cores is\nthree feet and six inches, the breadth of the forehead between the\nhorns is ten and a half inches, and from the middle of the occipital\nridge to the back of the orbit it is thirteen inches, (_Owen's\nBritish Fossil Mammals_, pp. 500, 501, 502.) The common red deer\nhave so greatly undergone degeneration that the fossil remains of\ntheir progenitors have been held to be those of a distinct species,\n(_strongylocerus spel\u00e6us_.) An advocate of Darwinism--a writer in\nthe _Edinburgh Review_ for October, 1868--differs with Owen on this\npoint, and holds that the common red deer are their descendants,\ngreatly degenerated. From their antlers it is inferred that they\nequalled in height the megaceros, whose height to summit of antlers\nwas ten feet four inches, (_Owen's British Foss. Mam._) So marked\nis the difference in the size of the antlers, says the Edinburgh\nreviewer, that it would be possible to ascertain approximately the\nantiquity of a deposit in which they might be found from that fact\nalone. The horse and the _elephas antiquus_ have also been shown to\nhave decreased in size.\n\nChanges similar to these have been adduced by the advocates of\nevolution, to show the manner in which species have been formed\nunder nature. But these, we apprehend, imply devolution rather than\nevolution. They also serve, contend they, as illustrations of the\nharmony subsisting between the organism and its environment. If by\nthis is meant that the organism responds to every marked change in\nthe environment, we admit the harmony. But if congruity between a\nperfect physiological state and the changed conditions is implied, we\ndemur. Certain conditions are absolutely essential to the growth of\ncharacters and to general perfection. When they are so modified as\nto entail the diminution or loss of any positive feature, this tells\nupon the organism. Darwin, noting that the appearance of certain\ncharacters was invariably consequent upon the presence of certain\nconditions, says (in order to avoid any thing like a teleological\nimplication) that we must not thence infer that those or any\nconditions are absolutely necessary to the growth of any organs or\ncharacters. That Darwin errs, and that full physiological perfection\ncannot exist except where there is full general growth, and full\ngrowth of all parts or organs, we shall clearly demonstrate when, in\na future article, we treat of the laws of compensation or balancement\nof growth, of correlation, of crossing, and of close interbreeding.\nBut whether there exists harmony between the organism or not, there\nis none the less deterioration. And when reversion to the type from\nwhich the organism has degenerated takes place under domestication,\nit is termed evolution.\n\nBut those proofs of degeneration and subsequent favorable reversion\nupon which we chiefly rely are those afforded by Darwin himself.\nOn page 8, Vol. I. of his late work, he says, \"Members of a\nhigh group might even become, and this apparently has occurred,\nfitted for simpler conditions of life; and in this case, natural\nselection would tend to simplify or degrade the organism; for\ncomplicated mechanism for simple actions would be useless or even\ndisadvantageous.\" The efficiency of natural selection in this respect\nwe fully concede.\n\nAnd again, on page 12, \"During the many changes to which, in\nthe course of time, all organic beings have been subjected,\ncertain organs or parts have occasionally become of little use,\nand ultimately superfluous, and the retention of such parts in\na rudimentary and utterly useless condition can, on the descent\ntheory, be simply understood.\" We heartily concur in this explanation\nfurnished by the descent theory, as we fully believe all that is\nattributed to the law of hereditary transmission, the particularities\nof the hypothesis of pangenesis excepted.\n\nTreating of a symmetrical growth, he cites the cases of \"wrong\nfishes,\" gasteropods or shell-fish, of certain species of bulimus,\nand many achitinell\u00e6, verucca, and orchids, and infers, from their\nbeing as liable to be unequally developed on the one as on the other\nside, that the capacity for development is present, and that it is\ndue to reversion. \"And as a reversal of development occasionally\noccurs in animals of many kinds, this latent capacity is probably\nvery common.\" (P. 53, vol. ii.)\n\nOn pages 58, 59, and 60 are given cases of \"the re-development\nof wholly or partially aborted organs.\" The _corydalis tuberosa_\nproperly has one of its two nectaries colorless, destitute of nectar,\nand only one half the size of the other. Its pistil is curved toward\nthe perfect nectary, and the hood, formed of the inner petals, slips\noff the pistil and stamens in one direction alone, so that when a\nbee sucks the perfect nectary, the stigma and stamens are exposed\nand rubbed against the insect's body. \"Now,\" says Darwin, \"I have\nexamined several flowers of the _corydalis tuberosa_, in which both\nnectaries were equally developed, and contained nectar; in this we\nsee only the re-development of a partially aborted organ; but with\nthis re-development the pistil becomes straight and the hood slips\noff in either direction; so that the flowers have acquired the\nperfect structure, so well adapted for insect agency, of dielytra\nand its allies. We cannot attribute these coadapted modifications\nto chance, or to correlated variability; we must attribute them to\nreversion to a primordial condition of the species.\" Upon Darwin's\nhypothesis, all the beautiful, delicate, involved, and harmonious\nadjustments, coadaptations, relations, and dependencies in organic\nnature must, at some time, have arisen by evolution. But here he\napparently assigns their coadaptation as a reason for not ascribing\nthese modifications to chance, or to correlated variability; as\nif their evolution were inconceivable. Does this consist with his\ntheory? What difficulty exists against their evolution now, which\nis not susceptible of being urged with equal if not greater force\nagainst their evolution ages ago? Why push the question further back\nin time? Was the evolution of these modifications less inconceivable\nthen than now? If so, why? In default of an answer, we have no\nalternative but to conclude that all favorable modifications arise by\nreversion.\n\nHaving given several cases of the \"reappearance of organs of which\n_not a vestige could be detected_,\" he declares it \"difficult to\nbelieve that they would have come to full perfection in color,\nstructure, and function unless those organs had, at some former\nperiod, passed through a similar course of growth.\" We surmise that\nat the moment in which Darwin conceived such a difficulty, his\nsingularly powerful imagination was impaired by over-exercise. We\ntrust that, on the recurrence of such a mental state, he will cease\nto marvel at us for experiencing a like difficulty in conceiving the\nevolution of any favorable characters.\n\nAfter giving the opinion of several naturalists--in which he\nconcurs--\"that the common bond of connection between the several\nforegoing cases is an actual though partial _return_ to the ancient\nprogenitor of the group,\" he says, \"If this view be correct, we\nmust believe that a vast number of characters capable of evolution\n(!) lie hidden in every organic being.\" Here Darwin, as if he had\ndemonstrated the tendency to revert too clearly for the tenableness\nof his theory, asserts that the appearance of these characters,\nwhich have been by him attributed to reversion, is attributable to\nevolution. The inconsistency is manifest. But this may be taken as\na type of the whole of Darwinism. For the author, after acquainting\nus, without the slightest apparent hesitation, with facts showing\ndegeneration to have been little short of universal, declares that\nhe is forced to believe that favorable modifications are due to\n\"spontaneous variability,\" as they are otherwise inexplicable;\nseeming to be wholly oblivious of ever having mentioned previous\ndegeneration. This reminds us of another inconsistency of which\nevolutionists are guilty. They never tire of inveighing against the\nreference of phenomena to what they term \"metaphysical entities,\"\nsuch as \"vital power,\" \"inherent tendency,\" \"intrinsic aptitude,\"\netc. But this by no means precludes their use of the same phrases\nwhen treating of phenomena which refuse to be moulded into even\nseeming conformity to their hypotheses. Again, these characters\ncannot be due to evolution if they are a return to the ancient\nprogenitor of the group; for that implies the possession of a larger\nnumber of characters in the progenitor than in its descendants;\nwhich directly militates against evolution, which is an advance from\nthe simpler to the more complex. But Darwinism is in part but an\ningeniously disguised and elaborate revival of the idea of Geoffroy\nSt. Hilaire. He conceived \"that what we call species are various\ndegenerations of the same type.\" Races under nature are, upon our\ntheory, caused by degeneration; they are various degenerations of\na specific type. Observing that races were thus caused, Geoffroy\nSt. Hilaire, we apprehend, instituted an analogy between races and\nspecies, and inferred from the former being various degenerations\nof a specific type, that the latter were the various degenerations\nof a generic (or a still higher) type. He was also induced thus to\nconclude by the fact that characters, which were held in common by\nall the species of a genus, were in some species in a rudimentary\nstate. But the sterility of hybrids precludes the possibility of\nthis common origin of the species. In so far as this hypothesis\nrelates to species, Darwin adopts it. The fact that races have been\nsimilarly caused, he ignores, as that is grossly at variance with\nhis hypothesis of evolution, which lays claim to plausibility only\nin the absence of any rational explanation of the appearance of\nfavorable modifications under domestication. Were races confessed to\nbe the degenerations of a specific type, then it would be apparent\nto the capacity of a boy that the appearance of characters under\ndomestication was due to reversion. Had not Darwin accepted the\nidea of St. Hilaire, his theory would be devoid of its present\nsemblance of unity and coherency. Having started out to prove the\ncommon origin of the species _by evolution_, he preserves the\nappearance of consistency in his illustrations by assuming an\nidentical conclusion, but one arrived at, as he unwittingly shows,\n_by postulating degeneration_. This furnishes him with a seeming\nconfirmation of his theory; but as these hypotheses of degeneration\nand evolution are wholly incongruous, the vain endeavor to blend them\nharmoniously involves him in many inconsistencies and absurdities.\nThus, in endeavoring to prove community of origin of the species,\nhe, in conformity with the conception of degeneration, accounts for\nthe appearance of characters by reversion, and then, apprehensive\nthat this attribution would be wholly subversive of his theory of\ndevelopment, ends by inconsistently and gratuitously terming them\ninstances of evolution. The expressions quoted above illustrate\nthis. He has shown that the modifications are due to a _return_ to\nthe ancient progenitor of the group, and then says, \"If this view be\ncorrect, we must believe that a vast number of characters _capable\nof evolution_ (!) lie hidden in every organic being.\" Many other\ninstances of this inconsistency could be given, but the following\nwill, we trust, suffice. After adducing cases of bud variation, he\nsays, \"When we reflect on these facts, we become deeply impressed\nwith the conviction that, in such cases, the nature of the variation\ndepends but little on the conditions to which the plant has been\nexposed, and not in any especial manner on its individual character,\nbut much more on the general nature or condition, inherited from some\nremote progenitor of the whole group of allied beings to which the\nplant belongs.\" Mark the consistency. The appearance of nectarines\non peach-trees by bud variation is here ascribed to reversion, while\nin numerous other places it is adduced as one of the most striking\ninstances of evolution. He has cited the cases of bud variation\nas instances of evolution, to prove community of origin of the\nspecies, and then assumes the community of origin of the species to\naccount _by reversion_ for the appearance of nectarines and all bud\nvariations. But Darwin may go on involving himself in a succession\nof absurdities, in the just confidence that, however gross they may\nbe, they will not be observable so long as his opponents admit the\nevolution of varieties.\n\nOn page 265, he declares it \"impossible in most cases to distinguish\nbetween the reappearance of ancient, and the first appearance\nof new characters.\" This of course implies that some characters\narise by evolution. Now, how are we to discriminate between those\narising by reversion and those arising by evolution? What is the\ndistinguishing characteristic of the latter? Darwin has failed to\ninform us. We deny evolution in any case--\"sport,\" strain, race,\nvariety, or species. Darwin takes it for granted in the cases of\n\"sport,\" strain, and variety, after having shown degeneration to have\nbeen almost universal. He professes to believe that these are due to\nevolution. What is evolution? Is it not \"a name for a hypothetical\nproperty which as much needs explanation as that which it is used to\nexplain\"? Whence results this belief in evolution? From intuition?\nThis knowledge of the existence of such a potent factor is doubtless\nvery enviable, especially when it is possessed by able scientists.\nBut--to follow a train of thought pursued in another connection--it\nneeds some guarantee of its genuineness. For the first impulse of a\nscientific scepticism is to inquire by what means these scientists\nhave acquired such a knowledge of the cause of variations. If it\nwas gained from a study of nature, then it must be amenable to all\nthe canons of scientific research; and these assure us that the\nappearance of favorable modifications is wholly inexplicable except\nupon the hypothesis of reversion, and that evolution is merely a\nname for a cause of which we are presumed to be ignorant. In science\nan explanation is the reduction of phenomena to a series of known\nconditions, thus bringing what was unknown within the circle of the\nknown. Does the hypothesis of evolution fulfil this requirement?\nHas it not been confessed that \"spontaneous variability,\" or\nevolution, stands in the place of ignorance? Is not the ascription of\ncharacters to evolution a \"shaping of ignorance into the semblance\nof knowledge\"? Has not Darwin shown that such it is, when he frankly\nacknowledges his ignorance of the cause of the appearance of\nfavorable modifications, and when he attributes them to \"an innate\nspontaneous tendency\"? Of what validity, then, can an hypothesis be,\nwhen the assumption upon which it is grounded is, confessedly, wholly\ngratuitous? Before it can be entitled to a hearing in a scientific\ncourt of inquiry, it is necessary that it furnish some warrant for\nassuming evolution. We rely with the most implicit confidence upon\nMr. G. H. Lewes concurring with us in deeming this requisite.\n\nOn page 350, Darwin says, \"Many sub-varieties of the pigeon have\nreversed and somewhat lengthened feathers on the back of their\nheads, and this is certainly not due to the species under nature,\nwhich shows no trace of such a structure; but when we remember\nthat sub-varieties of the fowl, the turkey, the canary-bird, duck,\nand goose all have top-knots or reversed feathers on their heads,\nand when we remember that scarcely a single natural group of birds\ncan be named in which some members have not a tuft of feathers on\ntheir heads, we may suspect that reversion to some extremely remote\nform has come into action.\" A high development of the \"extremely\nremote form,\" together with degeneration under nature and subsequent\nfavorable reversion, is here manifestly implied.\n\nOn page 247, the tendency to prolification is ascribed to reversion\nto a former condition.\n\n\"With domesticated animals,\" says Darwin, on page 353, \"the reduction\nof a part from disuse is never carried so far that a mere rudiment is\nleft, but we have good reason to believe that this has often occurred\nunder nature.\"\n\nSpeaking of the gradual increase in size of our domesticated animals,\nhe says, \"This fact is all the more striking, as certain wild or\nhalf-wild animals, such as red deer, aurochs, park-cattle, and boars,\nhave, within nearly the same period, decreased in size.\" (P. 427.)\n\nOn page 61, Vol. II., he says, \"It is probable that hardly a change\nof any kind affects either parent without some mark being left on the\ngerm. But on the doctrine of reversion, as given in this chapter, the\ngerm becomes a far more marvellous object; for besides the visible\nchanges to which it is subjected, we must believe that it is crowded\nwith invisible characters, proper to both sexes, to both the right\nand left side of the body, and to a long line of male and female\nancestors, separated by hundreds or even thousands of generations\nfrom the present time; and these characters, like those written on\npaper with invisible ink, all lie ready to be evolved (!!!) under\ncertain known or unknown conditions.\" If this is the case, is not\nthe scope of reversion sufficiently wide to cover every favorable\nmodification which has arisen, or may arise, under domestication?\n\nBut these extracts from Darwin's _Animals and Plants under\nDomestication_, strongly confirmatory as they are of our hypothesis,\nill sustain a comparison with the last we shall adduce. Fuller\nconcession no one could reasonably desire.\n\n\"With species in a state of nature,\" says Darwin, on page 317,\n\"rudimentary organs are so extremely common _that scarcely one can\nbe mentioned_ which is wholly free from a blemish of this nature.\"\nStronger confirmation of our hypothesis, short of a full and\nunequivocal confession of its validity, we are utterly unable to\nconceive. Are we not, after this, justified in ascribing to reversion\nevery favorable modification which has arisen or may arise?\n\nHaving thus furnished full warrant for assuming degeneration and\nsubsequent favorable reversion, and for alleging the complete\ngratuitousness of the converse assumption of evolution, let us turn\nour attention to the grand principle of natural selection.\n\nIt is scarcely possible to read Darwin's graphic description of the\nstruggle for existence among animals and plants, and not marvel at\ntheir survival. Creatures under nature are subjected to the greatest\nvicissitudes of climate. Thousands are born into the world with\ndelicate constitutions, inherited from their progenitors. These enter\ninto competition with their fellows for the means of subsistence;\nand although they eventually succumb, they have, during their short\nlives, by this competition, induced the deterioration of their\nstronger companions. All without exception have to struggle, from\nthe hour of their birth to the hour of their death, for existence.\nNatural extinction carries off those whose impaired constitutions\nare inconsistent with prolonged existence. Consequent upon natural\nextinction is the survival of the fittest and strongest. Darwin avers\nthat the weaker portion of the species having been carried off by\nnatural extinction, the next generation, having been derived only\nfrom the stronger portion of the race, will be of a still stronger\nconstitution. This is not the case. Natural extinction does not\narbitrarily carry off the weak, but merely those whose extremely\nimpaired constitutions are incompatible with life. Many survive\nbetween which and the conditions there is little compatibility. And\neven the offspring of those which are the strongest are subjected in\ntheir turn to the same if not worse conditions, and to the same if\nnot severer competition; for the probability is, that the increase in\nthe number of animals and plants has been great. Thus degeneration\nis ever active. If the climate fails to entail deterioration,\nand becomes favorable, the same result is produced by the severe\ncompetition consequent upon \"an astonishingly rapid increase in\nnumbers.\"\n\nDarwin implies that natural selection is something more than the\ncorrelative of natural extinction. That it is, he has not shown. All\nthe facts show that the one is merely the correlative of the other.\nThe semblance of the converse being the case is given, we conceive,\nby the constant use, when speaking of those preserved by natural\nselection, of the superlative, as strongest, fittest, most vigorous.\nUnder nature, unfavorable modifications are ever arising, and those\nanimals and plants which possess them in a marked degree are carried\noff by natural extinction. Natural selection, in its turn, operates\nmerely by the preservation of those organisms which have undergone\nlittle or no modification. The two factors are only different\naspects of the same process. One necessitates the other. More than\nthis, natural selection is not. That it acts by the preservation of\nsuccessive favorable modifications, Darwin has signally failed to\nadduce a single instance to prove. Instances of adaptation he has\nadduced, but they are invariably, except where man has intervened,\nthose of degeneration. A description of the process of natural\nselection is always accompanied with an account of the incessant war\nwaging throughout nature, resulting in natural extinction. Following\nthis is natural selection, preserving the fitter, stronger, and more\nvigorous. Now, a tolerably clear conception of our view may be gained\nby considering that, although those preserved may be the fitter,\nstronger, and more vigorous, in comparison with their brothers or\ncontemporaries, they may be--and the vast majority of the instances\nadduced by Darwin show this to be the case--less fit, less strong,\nand less vigorous than their progenitors. Those instances adduced\nwhich do not imply this, show no advance on the progenitors, but\nmerely a struggle against degeneration and a continuance in the same\nstate. For animals and plants under nature can scarcely hold their\nown. Many of them are reduced to the lowest condition compatible\nwith life. If they do not remain stationary, their movement is in\nthe direction of degeneration. Does not Darwin's assertion, before\nadverted to, that rudimentary organs are so extremely common that\nscarcely a single species can be mentioned which does not possess\nsuch a blemish, imply the pre\u00ebxistence of conditions sufficiently\nadverse to entail unfavorable changes in almost every point or\ncharacter in an organism? It is not a little amusing to see that,\nin numbers of the exemplifications of the process of natural\nselection given by Darwin, the animals and plants are subjected to\nextreme vicissitudes of climate, the severest competition, and other\nunfavorably modifying influences, and although deterioration is\nacknowledged to result, and it is manifest that all are unfavorably\nmodified, he invariably concludes with the assertion that the\nstrongest and most vigorous survive. This assertion is true in one\nsense, but is false when viewed with reference to the inference\nintended to be drawn. It will be seen that the more correct assertion\nwould be, those survive which have undergone less modification or\nnone.\n\nBut independently of these considerations; even upon the supposition\nthat natural selection was equally powerful with man's selection in\nthe formation of varieties or races, that as strongly pronounced\nand as widely divergent modifications as those observable under\ndomestication had arisen under nature, the efficiency of natural\nselection is a matter of no moment. For the argument therefrom begs\nthe whole question. It takes for granted the whole point really\nin controversy. It assumes that those modifications which may\narise, or which have arisen, are due to evolution. It is not in\nthe least inconsistent with our views that favorable varieties or\nraces should arise under nature. As a matter of fact, we deny their\never having arisen. But we are not by this denial estopped from\nbelieving it possible for them to arise in the future. For were the\nconditions to change, and to become as favorable as those to which\nanimals and plants are subjected under domestication, races would\nthen arise. They would probably be fewer in number, but a nearer\napproach to perfection could be attained, the conditions admitting;\nfor man's improvement of the animals and plants under his care\nis retarded, owing to his not being as yet perfectly conversant\nwith the conditions requisite for their full development. But the\nmodifications which may arise under nature will be due to reversion.\nThe improvement of natural species will imply their previous\ndegeneration. Darwin conceives variations to arise by evolution, and\nconcession of this is essential to the validity of his argument.\nThe question then recurs, Are the favorable modifications which\nhave arisen, or which may arise, due to evolution or to reversion?\nUntil this point is settled in favor of the ascription to evolution,\nDarwin's argument from natural selection is wholly irrelevant.\n\nAn illustration may perhaps conduce to a clearer conception of the\nrelation in which the theories of evolution and reversion stand to\neach other. The following will, we believe, fully serve this purpose.\n\nConceive a glass tube, bent into the shape of the letter V, of\nwhich the left leg alone is clearly visible. In this, water is\nseen slowly ascending by a succession of apparently spontaneous\nimpulses. \"Now,\" argue a certain class of philosophers, \"this is a\npeculiar case. The water here manifestly does not acknowledge the\nlaw of gravitation. It must, then, conform to a law _sui generis_;\na law of which we are wholly ignorant; a law which transcends the\nscope of our intelligence. This law, be it what it may, we will\nterm evolution. Now, as this name, given arbitrarily, is the only\nexplanation of which the singular ascent of the water will admit, we\nare forced to conclude that the water will, if similarly confined\nabove as here below, continue to rise for ever. Any theory other\nthan this is inconceivable. The assumption of a limit to the ascent\nof the water is manifestly wholly gratuitous. What evidence is there\nto induce the belief that there exists such a limit?\" But would not\nthe calculations of these philosophers be signally confounded by the\nremoval of the covering of the right leg of the tube, disclosing the\ndownward course of the water from a certain height? The analogy,\nwe presume, is clear to all. The ascent of the water in the left\nleg answers to the appearance of the profitable modifications under\ndomestication, the apex of the tube to the existing state of nature,\nand the descent of the water in the right leg answers to degeneration\nunder nature; while the height from which the water has descended\nin the right leg, and to which in the left leg it is ascending in\nconformity to the rule that water always seeks its own level, in like\nmanner answers to the perfect type of the species from which the\nanimal or plant has degenerated, and to which it is reverting.\n\nBut, even assuming that the argument from the gratuitousness of\nthe assumption of varietal evolution, together with that from the\nexplanation afforded by the theory of reversion, is inconclusive,\nthere is yet another which may be adduced.\n\nDarwin's theory is condemned by its advocates. For it is one of\na class of theories which, they contend, are not entitled to any\nconsideration or hearing in a scientific court of inquiry. Doubtless\nmany of our readers, at least those conversant with science, have\nspent many a pleasant hour perusing numerous well-written pages\nfilled with protests against the ascription of phenomena to such\nentities as \"plastic force,\" \"vital power,\" \"intrinsic aptitude,\"\n\"inherent tendency,\" etc. This attribution is one of the stock\nobjections against every thing which does not tally with the ideas\ncurrent among positivists. The advocates of Darwin, of whom most, if\nnot all, are followers of Comte, wax eloquent and enthusiastic while\non this theme. Here they disport themselves after the manner of men\nconscious of having alighted on a subject highly calculated to call\nforth their most happy thoughts. Here their rhetoric is consummate,\nand their turns of expression singularly felicitous. Their affected\nindignation at the assumed absurdity of thus accounting for phenomena\nknows no bounds. So thrilling is this tirade, and so perfect the\nsimulation of honest indignation, that we, though of a somewhat cold\ntemperament, have, through sympathy, often caught and retained for a\nmoment the infection of enthusiasm. When our feelings ceased to have\nfull sway, and when our reason returned, we were in a fit state to\nappreciate fully the great power of eloquence.\n\nAfter animadverting thus severely on this ascription of phenomena,\nit was not to be expected that these positivists would be guilty\nof the inconsistency of advocating a theory the basis of which was\none of these \"metaphysical entities.\" Very little credence, we\nare sure, would be given to the assertion that the foundation of\nDarwin's theory was an occult quality. For that theory has again\nand again been held up to the world as a shining sample of what can\nbe effected in science by conformity to the positive process of\ndiscovery. Yet such is the case. Darwin, on page 2, Vol. I. of his\nlate work, says, \"If organic beings had not possessed _an inherent\ntendency to vary_, man could have done nothing.\" In numerous other\nportions of his work may be found the reference of variations to\n\"an innate spontaneous tendency,\" (p. 362, Vol. I.,) to \"spontaneous\nor accidental variability,\" (p. 248. Vol. II.,) to the \"nature or\nconstitution of the being which varies,\" (p. 289, Vol. II.,) and to\n\"other metaphysical entities.\" So frequent is the recurrence of these\nexpressions that it is scarcely possible to open any portion of his\nwork and not alight on one. The whole of Darwin's theory is deduced\nfrom this occult quality in animals and plants. And this is a theory\nadvocated by G. H. Lewes, and a number of others who have given in\ntheir adhesion to positivism! If this explanation is, as they claim,\nunphilosophical, are they not bound to withdraw their support from\nsuch a theory? Does not their present position argue a total want\nof consistency? Which is the more entitled to support, even from\ntheir own professed stand-point, a theory which refers favorable\nvariations to an innate tendency in organisms, or that which ascribes\nvariations to reversion? No; as any other view would be incompatible\nwith the success of their darling theory, they are perfectly\ncontent to consider variation as an ultimate law, even though such\na consideration involves a gross inconsistency. Regardless of this,\nthey advance the theory, and, when engaged on a collateral point,\nmarvel at their opponents for doing that which they have done at\nthe start, and complacently extol the clearness of their own views,\nwhich have been arrived at by the aid of an hypothesis based upon the\nsame occult quality against which they are now exhausting all their\neloquence.\n\nThe truth is, that these \"metaphysical entities\" are in almost as\nfrequent use among positivists as among their adversaries. They\nare, perhaps, more ingeniously disguised. But a close examination\nof their speculations will elicit the fact that they are guilty\nof the same (alleged) absurdity, and on a point, as in the present\ninstance, most materially affecting their whole theory. But these\nexplanations are denounced as metaphysical merely to facilitate the\nreception of their finely spun theories. The dawn of science in any\ndepartment of knowledge is invariably preceded by a mist. This acts\nas a false medium, through which the subjects of science are dimly\nseen, presenting a most monstrous aspect. This is rendered still\nmore distorted by the ingenious but absurd theories of men bent\nupon tracing a want of harmony between science and religion. Their\nhypotheses, at first sight, apparently preclude the need of these\nphrases, but they are at last necessitated to use them in accounting\nfor phenomena of which the ascription to known factors would be\ngrossly at variance with their views. The use of these entities\nis in some cases only provisional with us, to be abandoned on the\nadvent of true knowledge; for religion does not shun the light of\ntrue science. In this transitional period between complete ignorance\nand full knowledge, these speculative theories are propounded. They\npurport to furnish an explanation of all phenomena, and to dispense\nwith the necessity of using \"metaphysical entities.\" Their adoption\nis necessitated, contend their propounders, if the converse theories\nare conceded to be unscientific. This we deny, and appeal to the\nexisting low condition of scientific knowledge, which precludes for\na time the possibility of the formation of any well-founded theory.\nThis theory of evolution, for instance, is confessedly founded on\nignorance--ignorance of the law to which its data conform. But when\nscience advances, and when facts are exposed to the clear sunlight of\nprecise and impartial investigation, perfect harmony is observable\nbetween science and religion; and the absurdity of the theories\nwhich were urged for our adoption becomes manifest. Past experience\njustifies our belief that such will ever be the case. For it is only\nthose departments of knowledge which are abandoned to speculation\nwhich present facts seemingly at variance with religion. We refuse to\naccept the alternatives which they offer, confident that, as they are\nat variance with religion, they are not the legitimate products of\ntrue science.\n\nRaces under nature have been formed exclusively by degeneration. By\nthis we do not wish to imply any innate tendency in organisms to\ndegenerate. The degeneration of which we speak is solely induced\nby the direct and indirect action of the conditions of life. Upon\nassuming certain conditions necessary to full growth, the formation\nof natural races becomes deductively explicable. It is with regret\nthat we observe a disposition on the part of some of the advocates\nof special creation to believe growth independent of the conditions.\nThe dependence of growth upon the conditions cannot be disputed. Nor\ndo we wish to dispute it; for it is, to our mind, strong confirmation\nof the doctrine of final causes. The supporters of the evolution\nhypothesis maintain that an organism has the capacity for adapting\nitself to any conditions, so that they are not so marked and sudden\nas to entail extinction. We acquiesce in this thus far--where the\nconditions are favorable, improvement ensues. But with us improvement\nimplies previous degeneration. And when the conditions are adverse,\na change for the worse results in proportion to the change in the\nconditions. Such adaptation as this we admit. But we fancy Darwin\nwould consider this too teleological to be a concession. Adaptation,\nwith him, implies harmony. This harmony we will not gainsay. But if\nthe conditions induce the total or partial suppression of any part\nor character, we contend that this adaptation of the organism to the\nconditions is not consistent with complete physiological integrity.\nThe departure from a state of integrity is directly proportioned to\nthe retardation of growth of either the organism as a whole, or of\nonly one or more of its organs or characters. This repression is the\ncriterion by which to judge of the adverseness of the conditions.\nFor our belief in this incompatibility between full integrity\nand conditions which entail the loss or diminution of any part,\ncharacter, feature, or organ, we will, in a future article, furnish\nfull warrant.\n\nStarting out, then, with perfect specific types, we will be able to\naccount for the formation of races without the aid of an equivocal\nprocess, without postulating any occult quality, and by means in\nevery way analogous to those which, as Darwin has shown, play an\nimportant part in inducing modification.\n\nFrom the instances of degeneration adduced by Darwin, we may infer\nthat the conditions of life were at one time extremely adverse.\nAnd surely, if they were sufficiently unfavorable to involve the\nreduction of most important organs to a rudimentary condition, they\nmust also have caused the suppression of many minor characters. The\nclimate in most countries has been adequately rigorous to act upon\nthe organization as a whole, and thus entail deterioration in size;\nand as these unfavorable conditions ranged from those but little\nunfavorable to those barely compatible with life, the retention\nof the organism in each or several of these stages would create\ndiversity of size; for climate acts with different degrees of force\nin different countries. Then in a single country the animals or\nplants would be subjected to closely similar conditions, and long\ncontinued subjection to these would produce uniformity of size, and\nindigenous races.\n\nIn addition to these modifications consequent upon the direct\naction of the climate on the whole organization, there would result\nminor changes. The conditions of life would in different districts\nor countries be unfavorable to different parts or characters. The\nreduction of these parts would follow, and this would, through\ncorrelation of growth, involve modifications in other portions of the\norganization. For, says Darwin, \"all the parts of the organization\nare to a certain extent connected or correlated together.\"\n\nOwing to these causes there would be disproportionate deterioration\nof the characters. When an organ of which the function is activity\nwould be little exercised, it would become atrophied. Different\nsituations would occasion more or less disuse of organs, and these\nwould consequently be differently modified. Then their modification\nwould call for the modification of other characters. Thus, the\nlegs in some animals are made more or less short by disuse, and by\ncorrelation the head is reduced in size, and changed in shape. Loss\nof characters, such as the crest of feathers on the head, and wattle,\nconjoined with changes in other parts of the organism, would, through\ncorrelation, produce more or less diminution in size of the skull.\nGeneral decrease in size, and loss of tail or tail-feathers, would\nlessen the number of the vertebr\u00e6, which result would induce other\nchanges. When the hair is affected by humidity of climate or other\ncauses, the tusks, horns, skull, and feet become modified. There is\nalso correlation of degeneration between the skin and its various\nappendages of hair, feathers, hoofs, horns, and teeth; between\nwing-feathers and tail-feathers; between the various features of head\nand skull.\n\nWith animals, a small supply of food would cause decrease in size;\nand with plants, an insufficient quantity of the necessary chemical\nelements, together with the starvation consequent upon the close\ncontiguity of other plants, would produce the same result. Diseases\npeculiar to certain localities, heights, and climates have also\nplayed their part in the modification of animals and plants.\n\nGiven, then, a perfect type, the unfavorable action of these\nelements--heat and cold, dampness and dryness, light and electricity,\ndisuse, disease, absence of some of the necessary chemical elements,\nand insufficient supplies of food--together with that of their\ncountless modifications, acting separately and conjointly, directly\nand indirectly through correlation, is amply adequate to the\nproduction of the modifications by which, as we conceive, races have\nbeen formed.\n\nThat it is possible for characters to appear after having been\nlost for a great length of time, is amply shown by Darwin in his\nchapters on reversion. Individuals of breeds of cattle that have been\nhornless for the last one hundred or one hundred and fifty years\noccasionally give birth to horned calves. Characters, he assures\nus, may recur after an almost indefinite number of generations.\n\"From what we see of the power of reversion, both in pure races and\nwhen varieties or species are crossed, we may infer that characters\nof almost any kind are capable of reappearance after having been\nlost for a great length of time.\" Speaking of the transmission of\ncolor during centuries, he says, \"Nevertheless, there is no more\ninherent improbability in this being the case than in a useless and\nrudimentary organ, or even in only a tendency to the production of\na rudimentary organ, being inherent during millions of generations,\nas is well known to occur with a multitude of organic beings. There\nis no more inherent impossibility in each domestic pig, during a\nthousand generations, retaining the capacity to develop great tusks\nunder fitting conditions, than in the young calf having retained for\nan indefinite number of generations rudimentary incisor teeth which\nnever protrude through the gums.\" The power of reversion is further\nshown in the cases of pelorism before given. And again, he urges\nthat, \"It should also be remembered that many characters lie latent\nin organisms ready to be evolved (?) under fitting conditions.\"\nBut it is scarcely necessary to adduce proofs of the possibility of\nreversion; for, if characters arise in species which have confessedly\ndegenerated, it is the height of absurdity to attribute them to\nevolution, rather than to reversion.\n\nMany objections, we are sure, will suggest themselves, and many\ndoubts will be expressed whether the theory here enunciated will\ncover all the facts. We feel confident of succeeding in obviating\nevery difficulty, and in dissipating all such doubts. In this\narticle we have shown upon what an infirm basis the evolution\nhypothesis rests, and have suggested a legitimate alternative. In our\nforthcoming articles, we shall show still further weakness of the\nviews of Darwin and Spencer, and point out facts which, while grossly\nat variance with the development doctrines, afford conclusive proof\nof the objective reality of the species.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[57] _The Origin of Species._ By Charles Darwin, A.M., F.R.S., etc.\nFourth edition.\n\n_The Variation of Animals and Plants under Domestication._ By Charles\nDarwin, A.M., F.R.S., etc. Two volumes, 8vo. London: John Murray.\n1868.\n\n_The Principles of Biology._ Vol. I. By Herbert Spencer. London:\nWilliams & Norgate. 1864.\n\n\n\n\nHAYDN'S FIRST LESSONS IN MUSIC AND LOVE.\n\n\nI.\n\nThe Hungarians, like the Austrians and Bohemians, have great love\nfor music. \"Three fiddles and a dulcimer for two houses,\" says the\nproverb; and it is a true one. It is not unusual, therefore, for\nsome out of the poorer classes, when their regular business fails\nto bring them in sufficient for their wants, to take to the fiddle,\nthe dulcimer, or the harp, playing on holidays on the highway or in\ntaverns. This employment is generally lucrative enough, if they are\nnot spendthrifts, to enable them not only to live, but to lay by\nsomething for future necessities.\n\nAn honest wheelwright, called \"merry Jobst,\" on account of his\nstories and jokes, lived with Elschen his wife, in a cottage in the\nhamlet Rohrau, on the borders of Hungary and Austria. They were\naccustomed to sit by the wayside near the inn on holidays; Jobst\nfiddling, and Elschen playing the harp and singing with her sweet,\nclear voice. Almost every traveller stopped to listen, well pleased,\nand on resuming his journey threw often a silver twopence into the\nlap of the pretty young woman. Jobst and his wife, on returning home\nin the evening, found their day's work a good one.\n\nThe old cantor of the neighboring town of Haimburg passed along the\nroad one afternoon, and in the arbor, opposite the tavern, sat merry\nJobst fiddling, and beside him pretty Elschen, playing the harp and\nsinging. Between them, on the ground, sat a little chubby-faced boy\nabout three years old, who had a small board shaped like a violin\nhung about his neck, on which he played with a willow twig as with a\ngenuine fiddle-bow. The most comical and surprising thing of all was,\nthat the little man kept perfect time, pausing when his father paused\nand his mother had a solo, then falling in with his father again, and\ndemeaning himself exactly like him. Often, too, he would lift up his\nclear voice, and join distinctly in the refrain of the song.\n\n\"Is that your boy, fiddler?\" asked the music-teacher.\n\n\"Yes, sir, that is my little Seperl.\"[58]\n\n\"The little fellow seems to have a taste for music.\"\n\n\"Why not? I shall take him as soon as I can to one who can teach him.\"\n\nThe cantor came from this time twice a week to the house of merry\nJobst to talk with him about his little son, and the youngster\nhimself was soon the best of friends with the good-natured old man.\nSo matters went on for two years, at the end of which time the cantor\nsaid to Jobst, \"If you will trust your boy with me, I will take him,\nand teach him what he must learn to become a brave lad and skilful\nmusician.\"\n\nJobst did not hesitate long, for he saw clearly how great an\nadvantage the instruction of Master Wolferl would be to his son. And\nthough it went harder with pretty Elschen to part with Joseph, who\nwas her only child, yet she gave up at last. She packed up the boy's\nscanty wardrobe in a bundle, gave him a slice of bread and salt and\na cup of milk, embraced and blessed him, and accompanied him to the\ndoor of the cottage, where she signed him with the sign of the cross\nthree times, and then returned to her chamber. Jobst went with them\nhalf way to Haimburg, and then returned, while Wolferl and Joseph\npursued their way till they reached Wolferl's house, the end of their\njourney.\n\nWolferl was an old bachelor, but one whose heart, despite his gray\nhairs, was still youthful and warm. He gave daily lessons to the\nlittle Joseph, and taught him good principles, as well as how to sing\nand to play on the horn and kettle-drum; and Joseph profited thereby,\nas well as by the other instructions he received in music.\n\nYears passed, and Joseph was a well-instructed boy; he had a voice\nas clear and fine as his mother's, and played the violin as well as\nhis father; he likewise blew the horn, and beat the kettle-drum, in\nthe sacred music prepared by Wolferl for church festivals. Better\nthan all, Joseph had a true and honest heart; had the fear of God\ncontinually before his eyes, and was ever contented, and wished well\nto all.\n\nThe more Wolferl perceived the lad's wonderful talent for art, the\nmore earnestly he sought to find a patron for him, for he felt\nthat his own strength could reach little further, when he saw\nthe zeal and ability with which his pupil devoted himself to his\nstudies. Providence so ordered it at length that Master von Reuter,\nchapel-master and musical director in St. Stephen's Church, Vienna,\ncame to visit the deacon at Haimburg. The deacon told Master von\nReuter of the extraordinary boy, the son of the wheelwright Jobst\nHaydn, the pupil of old Wolferl, and created in the chapel-master\nmuch desire to become acquainted with him. The next morning,\naccordingly, Von Reuter went to Wolferl's house, which he entered\nquietly and unannounced. Joseph was sitting alone at the organ,\nplaying a simple but sublime piece of sacred music from an old\nGerman master. Reuter, astonished and delighted, stood at the door\nand listened attentively. The boy was so deep in his music that he\ndid not perceive the intruder till the piece was concluded, when,\naccidentally turning round, he fixed upon the stranger his large dark\neyes, expressive of astonishment indeed, but sparkling a friendly\nwelcome.\n\n\"Very well played, my son!\" said Von Reuter at last. \"Where is your\nfoster-father?\"\n\n\"In the garden,\" said the boy; \"shall I call him?\"\n\n\"Call him, and say to him that the chapel-master Von Reuter wishes to\nspeak to him. Stop a moment! You are Joseph Haydn, are you not?\"\n\n\"Yes, I am Seperl.\"\n\n\"Well, then, go.\"\n\nJoseph went and brought his old master, Wolferl, who with uncovered\nhead and low obeisance welcomed the chapel-master and music director\nat St. Stephen's to his humble abode. Von Reuter, on his part,\npraised the musical skill of his _prot\u00e9g\u00e9_, inquired particularly\nconcerning the lad's attainments, and examined him formally himself.\nJoseph passed the examination in such a manner that Reuter's\nsatisfaction increased with every answer. After this he spent some\ntime in close conference with old Wolferl; and it was near noon\nbefore he took his departure. Joseph was invited to accompany him and\nspend the rest of the day at the deacon's.\n\nEight days after, old Wolferl, Jobst, and pretty Elschen, the younger\nson, little Michael, on her lap, sat very dejectedly together, and\ntalked of the good Joseph, who had gone that morning with Master von\nReuter to Vienna, to take his place as chorister in St. Stephen's\nchurch.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[58] The diminutive for \"Joseph,\" in the dialect of the country.\n\n\nII.\n\nWenzel Puderlein, a noted hair-dresser in the Leopoldstadt of\nVienna, was one day dressing the hair of the Baron von Swieten,\nfirst physician to the empress, when he heard the great man's son\nask permission to present to him a wonderful young musician, whose\ntalents were beginning to attract public attention. Puderlein was\nhappy to say he knew all about him, having long been hair-dresser to\nthe chapel-master Von Reuter, in whose house young Haydn had lived\nten or eleven years. He had been chorister at St. Stephen's, but had\nbeen obliged to relinquish the position two years before, having lost\nhis fine, clear soprano voice after a severe illness.\n\n\"And what does young Haydn now?\" asked the baron.\n\n\"Ah! your honor, the poor fellow must find it hard to live by giving\nlessons, playing, and thus picking up what he can; he sometimes\nalso composes, or what do they call it? He lives in the house with\nMetastasio; not in the first story, like the court poet, but in the\nfifth; and when it is winter, he has to lie in bed and work, to keep\nhimself from freezing; he has a fireplace in his chamber, but no\nmoney to buy wood to burn therein.\"\n\n\"This must not be; this shall not be!\" cried the Baron von Swieten,\nas he rose from his seat. \"Am I ready?\"\n\n\"One moment, your honor--only the string around the hair-bag.\"\n\n\"It is very good as it is. Now begone!\"\n\nPuderlein vanished.\n\n\"And you, help me on with my coat, give me my stick and hat, and\nbring me your young teacher this afternoon.\" Therewith he departed;\nand young Von Swieten, full of joy, went to the writing-table to\nindite an invitation to Haydn to come to his father's house.\n\nMeanwhile Joseph Haydn sat sorrowful, and almost despairing, in his\nchamber. He had passed the morning, contrary to his usual custom, in\nidle brooding over his condition. Now it appeared quite hopeless, and\nhis cheerfulness seemed about to take leave of him for ever, like his\nonly friend and protectress, Mademoiselle de Martinez. That young\nlady had left the city a few hours before. Haydn had instructed her\nin singing, and in playing the harpsichord; and by way of recompense,\nhe enjoyed the privilege of boarding and lodging in the fifth story\nin the house of Metastasio. All this now ceased with the lady's\ndeparture, and Joseph was poorer than before; for all that he had\nsaved he had sent conscientiously to his parents, only keeping so\nmuch as sufficed to furnish him with decent though plain clothing.\n\n\"But where now?\" thought he; and asked himself, sobbing aloud, \"Where\nshall I go, without money?\"\n\nJust then, without any previous knocking, the door of his chamber was\nopened, and, with bold carriage and sparkling eyes, entered Master\nWenzel Puderlein.\n\n\"Come to me!\" cried the hair-dresser, while he stretched his\ncurling-irons like a sceptre toward Joseph, and pressed his\npowder-bag with an air of feeling to his heart. \"To me! I will be\nyour father; I will foster and protect you; for I have feeling for\nthe grand and the sublime, and have discerned your genius. I will\nlead you to art--I myself; and if, before long, you be not in full\nchase, and have not captured her, why, you must be a fool, and I will\ngive you up!\"\n\n\"Ah! worthy Master Puderlein,\" cried Haydn, surprised, \"you would not\nreceive me when I know not where to go nor what to do?\"\n\n\"Now, sit you down on that stool,\" said Puderlein, \"and do not stir\ntill I give you leave. I will show the world what a man of genius can\nmake of an indifferent head.\"\n\n\"Are you determined, then, to do me the honor of dressing my hair,\nMaster von Puderlein?\"\n\n\"Ask no questions; but sit still.\"\n\nJoseph obediently seated himself, and Wenzel began to dress his hair\naccording to the latest mode.\n\nWhen he had done, he said with much self-congratulation, \"Really,\nHaydn, when I look at you and think what you were before I set your\nhead right, and what you are now, I may, without presumption, call\nyou a being of my own creation. Now pay attention: you are to dress\nyourself as quickly as possible, and collect your movables together,\nthat I may send to fetch them this evening. Then betake yourself\nto the Leopoldstadt, to my house on the Danube, No. 7; go up the\nsteps, knock at the door, present my compliments to the young lady\nmy daughter, and tell her you are so and so, and that Master von\nPuderlein sent you; and if you are hungry and thirsty, call for\nsomething to eat and a glass of Ofener or Klosteruenburger; after\nwhich you may remain quiet till I come home, and tell you further\nwhat I design for you. Adieu!\"\n\nTherewith Master Wenzel Puderlein rolled himself out of the door,\nand Joseph stood awhile with his hair admirably well dressed, but\na little disconcerted, in the middle of his chamber. When he had\ncollected his thoughts at length, he gave thanks with tears to God,\nwho had inclined the heart of his generous protector toward him, and\nput an end to his bitter necessity; then he gathered, as Puderlein\nhad told him, his few clothes and many musical notes together,\ndressed himself carefully in his best, shut up his chamber, and after\nhe had taken leave, not without emotion, of the rich Metastasio,\nwalked away cheerfully and confidently, his heart full of joy and his\nhead full of new melodies, toward the Leopoldstadt and the house of\nhis patron.\n\n\nIII.\n\nWhen young Von Swieten came half an hour later to ask for the young\ncomposer, Signor Metastasio could not inform him where \"Giuseppe\"\nhad gone. How many hours of despondency did this forgetfulness on\nthe part of the renowned poet prepare for the poor, unknown, yet\nincomparably greater artist, Haydn!\n\nWhen Joseph, after a long walk, stood at length before Puderlein's\nhouse, he experienced some novel sensations, which may have been\nconsequent on the thought that he was to introduce himself to a young\nlady and converse with her; an idea which, from his constitutional\nbashfulness and his ignorance of the world, was rather formidable to\nhim. But the step must be taken, nevertheless. He summoned all his\ncourage and knocked at the door. It was opened, and a handsome damsel\nof eighteen or nineteen presented herself before the trembling young\nman.\n\nIn great embarrassment he faltered forth his compliments and his\nmessage from Master Wenzel. The pretty Nanny listened to him with an\nexpression of pleasure, and of sympathy for the forlorn condition of\nher visitor. When he had ended, she took him by the hand, to his no\nsmall terror, without the least embarrassment, and led him into the\nparlor, saying in insinuating tones, \"Come in, Master Haydn; it is\nall right. I am sure my papa means well with you; for he concerns\nhimself for every dunce he meets, and would take a poor wretch in for\nhaving only good hair on his head! But you must give in to his humors\na little; for he is sometimes a trifle peculiar. Now tell me, what\nwill you have? Do not be bashful; it is a good while since noon, and\nyou must be hungry from your long walk.\"\n\nJoseph could not deny that such was the case, and modestly asked for\na piece of bread and a glass of water. Nanny, laughing, tripped out\nof the room. Ere long she returned, followed by an apprentice whom\nshe had loaded with cold meats, a flask of wine, tumblers, etc. She\narranged the table, filled Joseph's glass, and invited him to help\nhimself to the cold pastry and whatever else awaited his choice.\nThe youth fell to, timidly at first, then with more courage, till,\nafter he had, at Nanny's persuasion, emptied a couple of glasses,\nhe took heart to attack the cold meats more vigorously than he had\ndone for a long time before; making the observation mentally that\nif Mademoiselle Nanny Puderlein was not quite as _distingu\u00e9_ and\naccomplished as his departed patroness, the honored Mademoiselle\nde Martinez, still, as far as youth, beauty, and polite manners\nwere concerned, she would not suffer by a comparison with the most\ndistinguished dames in Vienna. When Master Wenzel Puderlein came\nhome an hour or two later, he found Joseph in high spirits, with\nsparkling eyes and cheeks like the rose, already more than half in\nlove with the pretty Nanny.\n\nJoseph Haydn lived thus many months in the house of Wenzel Puderlein,\nburgher and renowned _friseur_ in the Leopoldstadt of Vienna, and\nnot a man in the imperial city knew where the poor but gifted and\nwell-educated artist and composer was gone. In vain he was sought\nby his few friends; in vain by young Von Swieten; in vain, at last,\nby Metastasio himself. Joseph had disappeared from Vienna without\nleaving a trace. Wenzel Puderlein kept his abode carefully concealed,\nand wondered and lamented, like the rest, over his loss, when his\naristocratic customers, believing he knew every thing, asked him if\nhe could give them any information as to what had become of Joseph.\nHe thought he had good reason and undoubted right to exercise now\nthe hitherto unpractised virtue of silence; because, as he said to\nhimself, he only aimed at making Joseph the happiest man in the world!\n\nJoseph cheerfully resigned himself to the purposes of his friend, and\nwas only too happy to be able undisturbed to study Sebastian Bach's\nworks, to try his skill in composing quartettos, to eat as much as\nhe wanted, and, day after day, to see and chat with the fair Nanny.\nIt never occurred to him to notice that he lived, in a manner, as\na prisoner in Puderlein's house; that all day he was banished to\nthe garden behind the dwelling or to his own snug chamber, and only\npermitted to go out in the evening with Wenzel and his daughter. It\nnever occurred to him to wish for other acquaintances than their\nnearest neighbors, among whom he was known simply as \"Master Joseph;\"\nand he cheerfully delivered every Saturday to Master Wenzel the\nstipulated number of minuets, waltzes, etc., which he was ordered to\ncompose. Puderlein carried the pieces regularly to a music-dealer\nin the Leopoldstadt, who paid him two convention-guilders for every\nfull-toned minuet, and for other pieces in proportion. This money\nthe hair-dresser conscientiously locked up in a chest, to use it,\nwhen the time should come, for Joseph's advantage. With this view, he\ninquired earnestly about Joseph's greater works, and whether he would\nnot soon be prepared to produce something which would do him credit\nin the eyes of the more distinguished part of the public.\n\n\"Ah! yes, indeed,\" replied the young man. \"This quartetto, when I\nshall have finished it, might be ventured before the public; for I\nhope to make something good of it. Yet what can I do? No publisher\nwould take it, because I have no distinguished patron to whom I could\ndedicate it!\"\n\n\"That will all come in time,\" said Puderlein, smiling. \"Do you get\nthe thing ready, yet without neglecting the dances.\"\n\nJoseph went to work; yet every day he appeared more deeply in love\nwith the pretty Nanny; and the damsel herself looked with very\nevident favor on the dark though handsome youth. Wenzel saw the\nprogress of things with satisfaction; the lovers behaved with great\npropriety, and he suffered matters to go on in their own way, only\ninterfering, with a little assumed surliness, if Joseph at any time\nforgot his tasks in idle talk, or Nanny her housekeeping.\n\nBut not with such eyes saw Mosjo Ignatz, Puderlein's journeyman\nand factotum hitherto; for he thought himself possessed of a prior\nclaim to the love of Nanny. It was gall and wormwood to Ignatz to\nsee Joseph and the fair girl together. He would often fain have\ninterposed his powder-bag and curling-irons between them when he\nheard them singing tender duets; for Nanny had really a charming\nvoice, was very fond of music, and was Joseph's zealous pupil in\nsinging.\n\nAt length Ignatz could no longer endure the torments of jealousy. One\nmorning he sought out the master of the house, to discover to him\nthe secret of the lovers. How great was his astonishment when Master\nWenzel, instead of falling into a violent passion and turning Joseph\nout of doors without further ado, replied, with a smile, that he was\nwell pleased to have it so. In vain Ignatz urged his own prior claims\nto Nanny's favor, and the encouragement he had received from father\nand daughter. His pretensions were treated with the utmost scorn.\n\nThe journeyman declared he would instantly quit the hair-dresser's\ntreacherous roof, and him and his periwig stock. He hastened to pack\nup his goods, demanded and received his wages, and left the house\nvowing vengeance against its inmates. Puderlein was incensed; Nanny\nlaughed; Joseph sat in the garden, troubling himself about nothing\nbut his quartetto, at which he was working.\n\nWenzel Puderlein saw the hour approaching when the attention of\nthe imperial city, and of the world, would be directed to him as\nthe protector and benefactor of a great musical genius. The dances\nJoseph had composed for the music-dealer in the Leopoldstadt were\nplayed again and again in the halls of the nobility. All praised\nthe lightness, the sprightliness and grace that distinguished them;\nbut all inquiries were vain, at the music-dealer's, respecting the\nname of the composer. None knew him, and Joseph himself had no idea\nwhat a sensation the pieces he had thrown off so easily created in\nthe world. Master Wenzel, however, was well aware of it, and waited\nwith impatience the completion of the first quartetto. At length\nthe manuscript was ready. Puderlein received it, took it to the\nmusic publisher, and had it sent to press immediately, which the\nsums he had from time to time laid by for Joseph enabled him to do.\nHaydn, who was confident his protector would do every thing for his\nadvantage, committed all to his hands; he commenced a new quartetto,\nand the old one was soon nearly forgotten.\n\nThey were not forgotten, however, by Mosjo Ignatz Schuppenpelz, who\nwas continually on the watch to play Master Puderlein some ill trick.\nThe opportunity soon offered; his new principal sent him one morning\nto dress the hair of the Baron von F\u00fcrnberg. Young Von Swieten\nchanced to be at the baron's house, and in the course of conversation\nmentioned the balls frequently given by Prince Esterhazy, and the\ndelightful new dances by the unknown composer. In the warmth of his\ndescription the youth stepped up to the piano and began a piece which\ncaused Ignatz to prick up his ears, for he recognized it too well; it\nwas Nanny's favorite waltz, which Joseph had executed expressly for\nher.\n\n\"I would give fifty ducats,\" cried the baron, when Von Swieten had\nended, \"to know the name of the composer.\"\n\n\"Fifty ducats!\" repeated Ignatz. \"Your honor, I can tell your honor\nthe name of the composer.\"\n\n\"If you can, and with certainty, the fifty ducats are yours,\"\nanswered F\u00fcrnberg and Von Swieten.\n\n\"I can, your honor. It is Pepi Haydn.\"\n\n\"How? Joseph Haydn? How do you know? Speak!\" cried both gentlemen\nto the _friseur_, who proceeded to inform them of Haydn's abode and\nseclusion in the house of Wenzel Puderlein; nor did the ex-journeyman\nlose the opportunity of be-powdering his ancient master plentifully\nwith abuse as an old miser, a surly fool, and an arch tyrant.\n\n\"Horrible!\" cried his auditors, when Ignatz had concluded his story.\n\"Horrible! This old _friseur_ makes the poor young man, hidden from\nall the world, labor to gratify his avarice, and keeps him prisoner!\nWe must set him at liberty.\"\n\nIgnatz assured the gentlemen they would perform a good deed by doing\nso; and informed them when it was likely Puderlein would be from\nhome, so that they could find an opportunity of speaking alone with\nyoung Haydn. Young Von Swieten resolved to go that very morning,\nduring the absence of Puderlein, to seek his favorite; and took\nIgnatz along with him. The hair-dresser was not a little elated to be\nseated opposite the baron, in a handsome coach, which drove rapidly\ntoward Leopoldstadt. When they stopped before Puderlein's house,\nIgnatz remained in the coach, while the baron alighted, entered the\nhouse, and ran up stairs to the chamber before pointed out to him,\nwhere Joseph Haydn sat deep in the composition of a new quartetto.\n\nGreat was the youth's astonishment when he perceived his\ndistinguished visitor. He did not utter a word, but kept bowing to\nthe ground. Von Swieten, however, hesitated not to accost him with\nall the ardor of youth, and described the affliction of his friends\n(who they were Joseph knew not) at his mysterious disappearance. Then\nhe spoke of the applause his compositions had received, and of the\npublic curiosity to know who the admirable composer was and where\nhe lived. \"Your fortune is now made,\" concluded he. \"The Baron von\nF\u00fcrnberg, a connoisseur, my father, I myself--we will all receive\nyou; we will present you to Prince Esterhazy; so make ready to quit\nthis house, and to escape, the sooner the better, from the illegal\nand unworthy tyranny of an avaricious periwig-maker.\"\n\nJoseph knew not what to reply; for with every word of Von Swieten his\nastonishment increased. At length he faltered, blushing, \"Your honor\nis much mistaken, if you think I am tyrannized over in this house;\non the contrary, Master Puderlein treats me as his own son, and his\ndaughter loves me as a brother. He took me in when I was helpless and\ndestitute, without the means of earning my bread.\"\n\n\"Be that as it may,\" interrupted young Von Swieten impatiently, \"this\nhouse is no longer your home; you must go into the great world under\nvery different auspices, worthy of your talents. To-morrow the baron\nand I come to fetch you away.\" Therewith he embraced young Haydn with\ncordiality, quitted the house, and drove back to the city, while\nJoseph stood and rubbed his forehead, and hardly knew whether all was\na dream or reality.\n\nBut the pretty Nanny, who, listening in the kitchen, had heard all,\nran in grief and affright to meet her father when he came home, and\ntold him every thing.\n\nPuderlein was dismayed; but he soon collected himself, and commanded\nhis daughter to follow him, and to put her handkerchief to her eyes.\n\nThus prepared, he went up to Haydn's chamber. Joseph, as soon as he\nheard him coming, opened the door and went to meet him, to inform\nhim of the strange visit he had received.\n\nBut Puderlein pushed him back into the chamber, entered himself,\nfollowed by the weeping Nanny, and cried in a pathetic tone, \"I know\nall; you have betrayed me, and are now going to leave me like a\nvagabond.\"\n\n\"Surely not, Master Puderlein. But listen to me.\"\n\n\"I will not listen! Your treachery is clear; your falsehood to me and\nto my daughter! O ingratitude! see here thine image. I loved this\nboy as my own son. I received him, when he was destitute, under my\nhospitable roof; clothed and fed him. I have dressed his hair with\nmy own hands, and labored for his renown; and for my thanks, he has\nbetrayed me and my innocent daughter!\"\n\n\"Master Puderlein, listen to me. I will not be ungrateful; on the\ncontrary, I will thank you all the days of my life for what you have\ndone for me.\"\n\n\"And marry that girl?\"\n\n\"Marry her?\" repeated Joseph, astonished. \"Marry her? I--your\ndaughter?\"\n\n\"Who else? Have you not told her she was handsome? that you liked\nher?\"\n\n\"I have indeed; but--\"\n\n\"No buts; you must _marry_ her, or you are a shameless traitor! Think\nyou a virtuous damsel of Vienna lets every callow bird tell her she\nis handsome and agreeable? My innocent Nanny thought you wished to\nmarry her, and made up her mind honestly to have you. She loves you;\nand now will you desert her and leave her to grief and shame?\"\n\nJoseph stood in dejected silence. Puderlein continued, \"And I--have\nI deserved such black ingratitude from you, eh? have I?\" With these\nwords, Master Wenzel drew forth a roll of paper, unfolded and held\nit up before the disconcerted Joseph, who uttered an exclamation of\nsurprise as he read these words engraved on it, \"Quartetto for two\nviolins, bass viol, and violoncello. Composed by Master Joseph Haydn,\nperformer and composer in Vienna. Vienna, 1751.\"\n\n\"Yes!\" cried Puderlein, triumphantly, when he saw Haydn's joyful\nsurprise--\"yes, cry out and make your eyes as large as bullets. I did\nthat; with the money I received in payment for your dances I paid for\npaper and press-work, that you might present the public with a great\nwork. Still more: I have labored to such purpose among my customers\nof rank that you have the appointment of organist to the Carmelites.\nHere is your appointment. Now go, ingrate, and bring my daughter and\nme with sorrow to the grave.\"\n\nJoseph went not; with tears in his eyes he threw himself into\nPuderlein's arms, who struggled and resisted vigorously, as if he\nwould have repelled him. But Joseph held him fast, saying, \"Master\nPuderlein! listen to me! There is no treachery in me! Let me call you\nfather; give me Nanny for my wife.\"\n\nMaster Wenzel was at last quiet. He sank exhausted into an arm-chair,\nand cried to the young couple, \"Come hither, my children; kneel\nbefore me, that I may give you my blessing. This evening shall be the\nbetrothal, and a month hence we will have the wedding.\"\n\nJoseph and Nanny knelt down and received the paternal benediction.\nAll was festivity in No. 7, on the Danube, that evening, when the\norganist, Joseph Haydn, was solemnly betrothed to the fair Nanny,\nthe daughter of Wenzel Puderlein, burgher and proprietor in the\nLeopoldstadt in Vienna.\n\nThe Baron Von F\u00fcrnberg and young Von Swieten were not a little\nastonished, when they came the next morning to take Haydn from\nPuderlein's house, to find him affianced to the pretty Nanny. They\nremonstrated with him earnestly in private; but Joseph remained\nimmovable, and kept his word, pledged to Puderlein and his bride,\nlike an honorable young man.\n\nAt a later period he had reason to acknowledge that the step he\nhad taken was somewhat precipitate; but he never repented it, and\nconsoled himself, when his earthly muse caused a little discord among\nhis tones, with the companionship of that immortal partner, ever\nlovely, ever young, who attends the skilful artist through life,\nand who proved herself so true to him that the name of Joseph Haydn\nshall, after the lapse of centuries, be pronounced with joyful and\nsacred emotion by our latest posterity.\n\n\n\n\nFROM THE REVUE DU MONDE CATHOLIQUE.\n\nA SKETCH OF THE IRISH VOLUNTEERS.\n\nBY COUNT FRANK RUSSELL KILLOUGH, LATE OF THE PONTIFICAL ARMY.\n\n\nIt was worthy of Catholic Ireland, that noble daughter of the church,\nwhich has preserved intact the faith of St. Patrick in the midst of\nstruggles, trials, and persecutions of every kind, to send to the\npope a legion of her sons to fight beside the generous volunteers\nwhom every vessel brought from France, Belgium, Germany, and\nSwitzerland. As my thoughts revert, after an interval of eight years,\nto this noble band, whose organization I superintended temporarily,\nI love to recall the great natural qualities which redeemed their\ndefects, and, despite their disorders and uproar, and their incessant\nquarrels, won for the Irish the admiration of Lamorici\u00e8re, and\nmerited the approval of the pope, who, after the crisis, desired to\nform around him a guard of these valiant soldiers, these indomitable\nheroes, these Catholics faithful to the death.\n\nUnfortunately, in the midst of the fatigues and excitement of this\nperiod, amid marches and countermarches, orders and countermands,\nit was impossible for me to keep a journal of the thousand and one\nstrange incidents, daily events, interesting or amusing, of which I\nwas a witness; indeed, they would furnish Alexander Dumas abundant\nmatter for dramas and endless tales. I must limit myself to those\nscenes which have left the deepest impression on my memory.\n\nThe 30th of May, 1860, found me in garrison in a small hamlet on\nthe frontiers of Tuscany, Titta della Pieve, situated some leagues\nfrom Lake Trasimene, famous for the struggle between Hannibal and\nthe Romans, which took place upon its border. Thence a sudden order\ndespatched me to Macerata, a small town of the Adriatic Marches,\nwhere I was to organize the Irish Legion. Already a hundred and fifty\nrecruits had arrived, and the order was couched in terms admitting\nof no delay. I left with regret, for in this little hamlet I had\nfound a family, whose hospitality had touched me. It was that of the\n_gonfalonnier_.\n\nThe young matron, simple in her tastes, well educated, and handsome\nas Italians naturally are, had undertaken by her kindness to make us\nforget the ungracious reception which our uniform had won for us in\nPerugian society. And in this she manifested not only sound judgment\nand education, but also rare courage, at this dangerous time, when\nthe least respect toward a pontifical officer merited the stroke of\nthe assassin's dagger. A little later, I was to find her in Rome,\nproscribed for her fidelity by a violent, iniquitous, and vindictive\ngovernment. Will she be able to return to her home despite the cruel\nvexations to which she has been exposed? I know not, and dare not\nhope any thing of Piedmontese mercy. Could I separate myself from\nthat noble Swiss regiment, dear for so many reasons, beneath the\nshadow of whose flag I for the first time drew my sword for the pope?\nAlas! I was obliged to quit for a long time, perhaps, my brethren\nin arms, whose friendship had become a pleasure and encouragement\nand even a necessity, to find in a new corps new associates; and\nthis at the moment when great events were vaguely rumored, when\neach could foresee the necessity of all that was dear to brace up\nagainst the storm, whose distant echoes were already to be heard.\nBut military obedience exacted this sacrifice. I left early on the\nfollowing morning, and, after escaping an attack on the diligence by\ntwelve masked brigands, in the gorges of the Apennines, I arrived at\nMacerata on June 1st.\n\nI immediately received a visit from the almoner of the volunteers,\nwhose appearance deserves particular description.\n\nHe was an Irish Franciscan father, and by his lofty stature and\nsonorous eloquence reminded me of the portrait of the great\nO'Connell, which in my childhood I had seen traced by enthusiastic\nadmirers of his oratory. When Father Bonaventure appeared in the\nmidst of the recruits, the men made way for him respectfully. One of\nthem had been guilty of some breach of discipline. The priest spoke\nsweetly to him, and a few words of tender severity brought tears to\nthe eyes of the offender. Indeed, this monk, with his lofty brow\nand stately gait, his coarse habit falling in ample folds from his\nmassive shoulders, was well calculated to impress these children of\nnature, at once simple but keen, enthusiastic but fickle, good in\nheart but hasty in character, on whom the priest alone has fitted the\nyoke of authority.\n\nI immediately saw the necessity of establishing the best possible\nrelations with this influential man. The preliminaries of our\nconversation being ended, he said, \"My dear captain, will you--\"\n\n\"Pardon me, reverend father, but you give me a title to which I have\nno right. I am only a lieutenant.\"\n\n\"Why, captain dear, this will never do. I have announced to the\nrecruits the arrival of their _captain_; they are prepared to receive\nyou, and all the prestige of your authority will be lost if they find\nthat you are only a lieutenant. No; permit me without offence to\nattribute to you the rank to which you won't be long coming, if all\nthat I have heard of you be true.\"\n\n\"You flatter me infinitely, and I am much obliged for your high\nopinion; but as we have many things to do, let us save our\ncompliments for some future occasion, and look at the men, whom I\nmust inspect without delay.\"\n\n\"Immediately, mon cher commandant--\"\n\n\"Still another thing, Monsieur l'Aumonier--\"\n\n\"They are in the barracks, and I will present you to them. Come with\nme; these good fellows await you with impatience, and I hope you will\nbe pleased with them. Remember, you are captain.\"\n\nI found the recruits, about a hundred and fifty in number, ranged in\ntwo lines along the vast corridor, and I must confess that my first\nimpression was not favorable. They were for the most part ragged,\nevidently fatigued by the long voyage. A long bench stood before them.\n\n\"We must remove this bench,\" said I to the priest. \"It will be in the\nway during my inspection.\"\n\n\"Not a bit of it, captain dear,\" he answered; \"on the contrary, it\nwill assist wonderfully for the ceremony of your presentation. You\nare shorter than I, and my height destroys the effect that you ought\nto produce, (he was six feet eight inches in stature.) Get up on\nthat bench, and you will appear as tall as I, and your prestige will\nincrease proportionally.\"\n\n\"All right, reverend father; here goes for the bench. You are a\ndecided master of scenic art.\"\n\nI acted on his advice, and mounted my platform, while the chaplain\nprepared his countenance and attitude for the grand discourse that\nwas to follow. He waited for silence, and, when he saw all eyes\ndirected toward me and all ears open to him,\n\n\"Boys,\" he said, swinging with majestic movement the loose sleeves\nof his habit, \"welcome this happy day, the object of your ardent\ndesires, on which you will enjoy the honor of enrolling yourselves in\nthe army of the sovereign pontiff, and on which your names, children\nof St. Patrick, will be inscribed on the great list of the defenders\nof the papacy. You see before you, at this moment, the representative\nof that august sovereign for whom your Irish and Catholic hearts beat\nwith filial love. Welcome with acclamations him whom God has sent\nus--the illustrious Captain Russell,\" (here he laid his heavy hand\non my head as if he wished to flatten it,) \"the noble descendant of\nyour ancient kings, the worthy nephew of the gallant Marshal McMahon,\nthe hero of Perugia, into whose hands I gladly resign the authority\nwhich I have hitherto exercised. Now, boys, from the bottom of your\nthroats, hurrah for Captain Russell.\"\n\n\"Hurrah for the captain!\" shouted the hundred and fifty.\n\n\"And you, captain,\" (here he turned his great, benevolent eyes toward\nme,) \"whom the pope has invested with the powers of commander until\nthe arrival of their regular chief, consider in the goodness of your\nheart the devotion of these true sons of Ireland, who, abandoning\ntheir homes and families, came through fatigues, dangers, and\nprivations, over mountains and seas, to place at your disposal their\nlives, their strength, and their heart's blood.\"\n\nI answered this harangue as well as I could, giving with all my\nmight a hurrah for the pope, which was repeated along the line;\nthen, descending from my pedestal, I shook warmly the hand of the\nreverend chaplain, to testify publicly my trust in him, and, after\nthe inspection, occupied myself immediately in forming the companies.\nAlas! the first act of my administration was unlucky, and showed that\nmy brains were not equal to the organization of an Irish regiment.\n\nHaving learned from the chaplain that the recruits of different\nprovinces mutually entertained profound jealousy, I thought I would\nsucceed well in putting all the Dublin men in one company and all the\nKerry men in another. This disposition having been made, I assigned\nto each of the companies one or more apartments of the barracks, and\nordered them to take immediate possession of their quarters.\n\nThis order, simple in appearance, was the occasion of a prodigious\nstorm; and you would be long divining its cause.\n\nWhile the Dublin men executed my order without delay and betook\nthemselves quietly to their quarters on the upper story, the Kerry\nmen, on the contrary, gathered in several noisy groups under the\nconduct of as many leaders, as if they did not understand the orders,\nand finally declared point blank that they would not obey them.\n\n\"Peste, Monsieur l'Aumonier,\" said I to the chaplain, who observed\nwith a certain anxiety the disturbance which was brewing, \"if things\nbegin thus, they do not augur well for the future.\"\n\n\"Wait a bit, captain, before dealing harshly with the culpable. Let\nme find out the motives of their resistance.\"\n\n\"All right, father. I await your rendering an account of them.\"\n\nThe monk stepped firmly up to the mutineers and endeavored to speak\nwith them.\n\n\"We want the upper floor! We'll have the top floor!\" was the only\nanswer he received.\n\n\"But, boys, the upper floor is no better than the lower.\"\n\n\"We want the upper! The Kerry lads are not made to be stowed away on\nthe ground-floor.\"\n\n\"For mercy's sake, listen to reason, or else the captain--\"\n\n\"Down wid Dublin! Kerry for ever!\"\n\nThe monk returned, pale as death, to explain the cause of the tumult.\n\nThe volunteers from \"county Kerry,\" whose blood is proverbially warm,\nwere indignant because I had quartered them on the ground-floor,\nwhile the Dublin lads occupied the upper story; wherefore they were\ndetermined not to budge until this insult was repaired and Kerry\nvindicated.\n\n\"But, reverend father, the order is given, and cannot be revoked\nwithout compromising my dignity. Try to point out to me the leaders;\nI will have them arrested. As to the others--\"\n\n\"Ah! captain, remember their inexperience of discipline.\"\n\n\"That is the very reason why I wish to be severe with the leaders.\"\n\nI had the leaders of the disturbance arrested, and, on seeing\nthis, the remainder quietly dispersed and occupied without further\ndifficulty their allotted barracks.\n\n\"Boys,\" said I, going among them, \"the leaders who have brought you\nastray are scoundrels, whom I am going to punish. They have trifled\nwickedly with that proud sentiment of rivalry which does honor to\nthe different provinces of Ireland. Keep this sentiment of noble\njealousy, of just emulation, keep it for the field of battle, where\nyou can make better use of it than here.\"\n\n\"Hurrah for the pope! hurrah for the chaplain! hurrah for the\ncaptain!\"\n\nA few days later, on a beautiful afternoon in June, the detachment\nof volunteers from Limerick arrived. They numbered about two\nhundred, conducted like the others by their chaplain, a man at once\nindefatigable and full of courage, whose almost juvenile ardor was\nirresistibly communicated to his companions.\n\nI thought that these brave men, fatigued by a long journey and\nnumerous privations, deserved to be well treated by that pope to whom\nthey came thus to offer their arms and blood. Hence, I had prepared\nfor them at the barracks fresh straw mattresses and warm soup, and,\nhaving made these arrangements, went forward to meet them on the road\nto Ancona.\n\nConfused cries and sounding hurrahs soon announced the approach of\nthe column. I presented myself to the new almoner, whom I recognized\nby his long black coat and high gaiters. At once he gave a prodigious\nhurrah for the pope, which was instantly repeated by the two hundred\nvolunteers with an enthusiasm of which the pure races are alone\ncapable. At the same time they brandished enormous cudgels, which\nserved them alike as walking-sticks and weapons, and with which each\nman had provided himself before quitting his native parish.\n\nIt would be difficult to portray the terror which such scenes\nproduced on the peaceful inhabitants of the town, little accustomed\nto such noisy demonstrations. They always avoided meeting the\n_Ollandesi_, as they then ignorantly termed them--the _Verdoni_,\n(canary color, half green and half yellow,) as they afterward called\nthem, from the colors of their uniform. The women were content to\ngaze timidly from the windows at these strange guests; the urchins\nalone, braver or more frolicsome, escorted the newly-arrived, and\nstrove to keep step with these giants of the north, four times as\ngreat as themselves.\n\nDuring the bombardment of Ancona, which lasted six days, I occupied\nwith the fourth Irish company a bastion of the intrenched camp,\nsituated on a height which commanded the city and the defence from\nthe land side. For some days we had nothing to shelter us; and to\nadd to the annoyance, the earth having been lately turned for the\nworks ordered by the general, the first rain changed it to thick mud.\nOn this couch my men had to sleep, with naught above them save the\narch of heaven. Nevertheless, they did not complain, as I might have\nexpected from their previous conduct, and they remained the whole\nnight exposed to a driving rain on this wet soil without uttering one\ncomplaint, so much had the sight of the enemy excited their ardor and\ndeveloped their military virtues. Strange! It had only required a\nfew bomb-shells to change these peasants, so untractable the evening\nbefore, into sober, patient, and warlike soldiers, ready for all\nsacrifices. Every afternoon, about five o'clock, the bombardment\nceased, as if by agreement, and then commenced the most original\nscene which can be imagined.\n\nIn the midst of the terreplein of my bastion they kindled a fire,\nand grouped themselves pell-mell around it, just as chance arranged\nthem, soldiers, non-commissioned and commissioned officers. For\nthe latter seats of honor were reserved, consisting principally of\ninverted wheel-barrows, water-buckets, and old pieces of lumber. The\npipes struck up, the gourds of brandy passed from hand to hand, and\ntongues were unloosed; and as the day had been more or less exciting,\nso was the conversation animated. One of a dramatic turn, endowed\nwith a long and neglected beard and draped majestically in some old\ncloak, recited with upraised hands some scene of mighty Shakespeare.\nAnother, somewhat younger, sung tenderly a national air, a sweet\nmelody of the poet Moore. I have always remembered one of these\ntouching ballads, and cannot resist giving it here:\n\n    \"Rich and rare were the gems she wore,\n    And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore;\n    But oh! her beauty was far beyond\n    Her sparkling gems or snow-white wand.\n\n    \"'Lady, dost thou not fear to stray,\n    So lone and lovely, through this bleak way?\n    Are Erin's sons so good or so cold\n    As not to be tempted by woman or gold?'\n\n    \"'Sir knight! I feel not the least alarm;\n    No son of Erin will offer me harm;\n    For though they love woman and golden store,\n    Sir knight, they love honor and virtue more!'\n\n    \"On she went, and her maiden smile\n    In safety lighted her round the green isle,\n    And blest for ever is she who relied\n    On Erin's honor and Erin's pride.\"\n\nAnother, an inhabitant of the mountains, began some interminable\nlegend, in which the ghosts of his ancestors played an important\npart. Sighs and cries of joy accompanied the recital, broken only\nby the monotonous \"All's well,\" which the sentries on the parapet\npassed from one end of the camp to the other. All listened, awed,\nwonder-stricken, and transported in spirit to the hearths which they\nhad left, and around which they had often kept joyous vigil by the\nlight of the burning turf. Fortunately, no inopportune shell came\nfrom the enemy's batteries to cast its lurid glare over the joyous\ngroup or glitter on the beard of the singer. O pure and romantic\nnatures! Oh! what a natural poesy and gayety surrounds this race,\nwhich we are wont to cover with a cloud of melancholy sadness. Were I\nto live a hundred years, I could not efface the vivid remembrance of\nthose noisy vigils at Bastion No. 8, at the bombardment of Ancona in\n1860.\n\nMomentary enthusiasm was their great motive power. Whoever knew how\nto excite them, could obtain from them whatever he wished. And then,\nto see the play of their chests, their arms and shoulders; they\nseemed like so many Vulcans. The heaviest weights, which an Italian\ncould scarcely move, gun-carriages, shell, beams, blocks of stone,\nthey raised without difficulty, and, placing them on their stalwart\nshoulders, carried them with the greatest ease, one after another.\nFrom this I derived much benefit in a critical situation.\n\nThe Piedmontese having, half by surprise and half by main force,\nseized one of the outposts of Monte Pelago, and having there posted\na battery, whence a raking fire entirely commanded the bastion which\nI occupied, I saw that, in order to protect my men, I must construct\na traverse in the midst of the bastion. But how remove the earth?\nHow perform all the necessary work under the fire whose balls rained\namong us and whistled unpleasantly in our ears? Fortune favored me; a\nheavy rain storm interrupted the bombardment.\n\n\"To work, boys! to work!\" I cried. \"In three hours you must raise\ntwelve feet in length of a traverse, eight feet high, five feet thick\nat the top, and ten at the bottom, which will withstand every thing\nthey may send from Monte Pelago. Here, you terrace-makers, come on\nwith your picks and shovels. And you, Sergeant Tongue--you are a\nmaster carpenter; dress these logs and slabs for me, to make a frame\nfor the work. In this manner, by God's grace, we will get ready a\ntraverse that would keep the devil out, even if we had not the Pope\nwith us. To work, boys! to work!\"\n\nIn a few hours we had the bastion sheltered from the fire of the\nenemy. Alas! my poor traverse, fruit of such generous labor, we\ndid not keep you long. In fact, the following day all was over,\nunfortunately ended; Bastion No. 8, along with all the others, passed\ninto the hands of the enemy.\n\nI did not take part in the defence of Spoleto, that feat of arms so\nglorious for the Irish Legion; but after seeing these volunteers at\nthe bombardment of Ancona, I can easily imagine what must have been\nthat struggle of twenty-four hours of their two companies against ten\nthousand Piedmontese.\n\nAn old cannon of heavy calibre, for many years laid aside as\ncondemned, was buried in a corner of the fortress. Instantly it was\nextricated from the _d\u00e9bris_, transported by main force to a height\nwhence it commanded the enemy, and mounted on a gun-carriage; and the\nrusty old piece, astonished at its resurrection, killed more men on\nthat one day than during the entire century of its past existence.\n\nA decayed, half-ruined gate afforded an entrance into the citadel.\nThe enemy directed their efforts against it. The athletic sons of St.\nPatrick fell to work, and in an hour it was braced up and barricaded\nwith gabions, and firmly resisted two successive assaults of the\nenemy's column.\n\nI could cite twenty instances of this kind, where heroic courage\njoined to prodigious muscular strength worked miracles. But if a more\nprosaic example will suffice to form an idea of the strength of these\niron limbs, I would add, softly and not without a slight blush, that\nduring the period of my command I never saw a guard-house door which\ncould resist their opposing efforts more than two hours, however well\nbolted it might be. After the iniquitous bombardment, which did not\nrespect the white flag floating over all the works of the citadel and\nfort, our general capitulated, and we were obliged to abandon the\nplace. The departure was very trying, and I cannot recall without\ngrief the humiliation of that disastrous day. I do not wish to\nspeak of it, nor could I do so without bitter tears; but it gives me\npleasure to remember a spirited act of the Irish Legion.\n\nIt was six o'clock in the evening; our companies, of which I\ncommanded the last, marched in close column, flanked, alas! by a line\nof Piedmontese, who, I must admit, had more regard for our misfortune\nthan the dastardly population of the city. We passed gloomily the\ngate which leads to the Porta Pia, quickening our step as much as the\nescort would allow, when some of my men came to me. \"Captain,\" said\nthey, \"we have come to say that Ireland will blush for her children\nif she learns that we abandoned this city without bidding a last\nadieu to the pope; we ask permission to salute him after our fashion\nat this last moment.\"\n\n\"I understand; be quiet for a moment, and Ireland will be content\nwith you and with me.\"\n\nA few moments after this, we reached the boundary of the suburbs. As\nthe last man passed the gates of this unfortunate city, judging the\nmoment opportune for the execution of our project, I gave with all\nthe strength of my voice a last hurrah.\n\n\"Hurrah for the pope!\" shouted all in unison. The walls, the\ncity, the gate, even the ocean itself, were shaken. To paint the\nastonishment of our guards would be impossible. They consulted\ntogether for an explanation of what had just occurred. Finally, I\nheard a sous-officer say to his neighbor,\n\n\"_Lasiamo fare, sono Irlandesi!_ Bah! these are Irishmen; of what use\nis it to trouble yourselves about their savage cries?\"\n\nSuch was our departure from Ancona, on the 29th of September, 1860,\nand such the solemn adieu of the Irish Legion to the pontifical soil.\n\n\n\n\nNEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n\n     THE LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF ELIZABETH. By Edwin P. Whipple.\n     Boston: Fields, Osgood & Co. 1869.\n\nThe volume of essays bearing this title is a contribution to our\ncritical literature by a writer who is, perhaps, the best of American\ncritics. If \"to see things as they really are\" is, as Matthew Arnold\nsays, the end and office of true criticism, Mr. Whipple, we think,\nis in literary matters fairly entitled to the distinction we have\nmentioned; and although we are far from having in this country such\ncritics as Taine, or St. Beuve, or even Arnold himself, it is one\nwhich, in these days of improved and improving literary taste among\nAmericans, is real and desirable.\n\nThe essays in the present volume, written originally to be delivered\nas lectures before the Lowell Institute, and then published during\nthe years 1867 and 1868 in the _Atlantic Monthly_, are upon those\nsubjects in which he is most at home, and appears always at his best.\nHe is an enthusiastic and thoroughly appreciative student of English\nliterature, and though, as the authors and the works which form\nthe topics of these essays have been long ago thoroughly discussed\nby such critics as Lamb, Hazlitt, and Leigh Hunt, the critical\nscholar will find but little strikingly new in the book, he cannot\nfail to derive pleasure and profit from many things in it which are\npre\u00ebminently suggestive, and from the greater clearness and precision\nwhich many of his previous ideas will gather.\n\nThe most striking characteristic of Mr. Whipple in these essays is\nthe masterly manner in which he connects the work with the author.\nHe deals less with words than with things; less even with ideas than\nwith mind. He presents to us especially the mental characteristics,\nthe habits of thought and feeling--in a word, the inner self of the\nauthor of whom he is treating. From a careful study of the works\nhe has traced the man, and he gives us now the result; and using\nthe works for illustration and proof, asks us if they are not the\nexpression of the individual character which he has drawn. Thus, it\nis the arrogant and conceited Jonson, the bitter and misanthropic\nMarston, the \"one-souled, myriad-minded\" Shakespeare, rather than\narrogance, misanthropy, or universality in their writings, that he\nportrays by his criticism.\n\nThe book manifests also Mr. Whipple's usual independence, which\nprevents him from becoming the slavish admirer of any author, however\ngreat, and his innate love of moral purity, which he shows especially\nin his criticisms upon the dramatists.\n\nIts style is marked by that wonderful control of language and\nfacility of expression for which Mr. Whipple has always been\ndistinguished. But we think it bears evidence of the object for which\nthe essays were originally prepared--delivery as popular lectures.\nSuch a sentence as we give below seems to us to detract from the\ndignity of style which we might rightfully expect in the author.\nReferring to Jonson's brief occupation as a mason, Mr. Whipple says:\n\n     \"We have no means of deciding whether or not Ben was foolish\n     enough to look upon his trade as degrading; that it was\n     distasteful we know, from the fact that he soon exchanged the\n     trowel for the sword, and we hear no more of his dealing with\n     bricks, if we may except his questionable habit of carrying too\n     many in his hat.\"\n\nSuch things as this, which occur more or less frequently throughout\nthe book, might have been advantageously omitted when Mr. Whipple\ntransferred his essays from the judgment of a mixed audience at a\nlecture-hall, to that of the readers of a book which will be likely\nto find its way only into the hands of those who are interested in\nits subject. But, as a general rule, he uses allusions and anecdotes\nappositely and well, and gains much sprightliness and vivacity in\ntreating of subjects which might otherwise appear somewhat dull to\nthe general reader by witty and humorous illustrations.\n\nHe has also shown a singular felicity of expression in many phrases\nand figures which seem to embody the result of a careful study of the\nauthor, and by them he often succeeds in conveying in one condensed\nand vivid sentence more of the essential idea of his criticism than\nhe could have done in pages of elaborate discussion. Thus, speaking\nof Jonson's tragedies, he says:\n\n     \"They seem written with his fist.\"\n\nOf Chapman he says:\n\n     \"Often we feel his meaning rather than apprehend it. The imagery\n     has the indefiniteness of distant objects seen by moonlight.\"\n\nAnd of Spenser:\n\n     \"In truth, the combining, co\u00f6rdinating, centralizing, fusing\n     imagination of the highest order of genius--an imagination\n     competent to seize and hold such a complex design as our poet\n     contemplated, and to flash in brief and burning words details over\n     which his description lovingly lingers--this was a power denied to\n     Spenser. _He has auroral lights in profusion, but no lightning._\"\n\nMr. Whipple's work seems to us more peculiarly valuable in the\ndiscussion of the minor dramatists and poets of the time--authors\nwho are comparatively unknown to the general mass of readers. But\nthese writers are neglected only on account of the great wealth of\ngenius in which the age abounded. Their real brilliancy appears only\nas darkness by the side of the overpowering light of Shakespeare and\nJonson, Spenser and Bacon. We hope that many will be induced by this\nbook to cultivate an acquaintance with the works of the men of whom\nit treats, and we have the more expectation that this will be so from\nthe fact that not its least praiseworthy characteristic is the care\nand good taste with which the extracts from these authors, by which\nMr. Whipple illustrates his criticisms, have been made. We can only\nregret that they have been so sparingly introduced.\n\nThe author's treatment and discussion of Bacon's genius, and\nhis claim to be the founder of the inductive philosophy, are\nunsatisfactory to our mind; but this subject involves a question into\nwhich it is impossible to enter in this notice.\n\nWe regret that we cannot take leave of this pleasant and on the whole\nadmirable book without being obliged to say, that though it is by\nno means dangerous, it is often annoying to the Catholic reader.\nMr. Whipple seems to be imbued with that prejudice and unfairness\nwhich is so common in English and American literature when alluding\nto the church, and in several places by slight words and phrases\nexpresses that sneering contempt in which authors of his \"liberal\nand tolerant\" views are so apt to indulge toward those who differ\nfrom them in belief. We think, too, that in his introductory chapter\nhe gives altogether too much prominence to the \"Reformation\" as\na means of intellectual awakening. The so-called Reformation may\nindeed have been partially, and in a peculiar sense, a _result_ of\nthe intellectual ferment of the time--an unhappy and deplorable\nresult--but it was not one of its _causes_, as the author seems to\nthink. Those lie further back, in those other great events which Mr.\nWhipple names--the revival of classical learning, the invention of\nprinting, and the discovery of America; events which he and his class\nof writers would do well often to remind themselves were brought\nabout by loyal and devout Catholics.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE WRITINGS OF MADAME SWETCHINE. Edited by Count de Falloux of\n     the French Academy. Translated by H. W. Preston. New York: The\n     Catholic Publication Society, 126 Nassau street. 1869.\n\n_The Life and Letters of Madame Swetchine_, published some eighteen\nmonths since, might dispense us from any more special mention of her\n_Writings_ than to say that she is in both works well and eloquently\nportrayed as a character \"destined to hold a front place among\nthe most powerful, original, pure, and fascinating revealed in all\nhistory.\"\n\nMadame Swetchine was of aristocratic birth, very wealthy,\naccomplished, and even learned. Better than all these, she was\nliberal in ideas, the friend of the poor and lowly, modest, humble,\nand pious. The greatest minds of the age--De Maistre, De Bonald,\nCuvier, Frayssinous, De Falloux, De Broglie, Lacordaire, and\nMontalembert--sought her friendship and hung upon her words. And\nyet even such homage as this never inspired her with the slightest\nliterary vanity or worldly ambition. She wrote much, but never for\npublication. She never specially preserved what she wrote, never\ndesired to. The material of the book before us, collected after her\ndeath by her executor, Count de Falloux, of the French Academy, was\nwritten without any fixed plan, at various periods, upon loose leaves\nin a rapid, illegible hand, most of it in pencil. The manuscript was\ndistributed among several of her literary friends, with whom it was a\nlabor of love to arrange and prepare it for the press.\n\nRarely has unpublished writing had so bright a constellation of\nposthumous interpreters. The \"Thoughts\" are arranged by the Abb\u00e9\nde Cazal\u00e8s and Count Jules de Berton; \"Old Age,\" by Count Paul\nResseguier; \"Resignation,\" by Count Albert De Resseguier and Prince\nA. Galitzin.\n\nThe general title \"Writings\" is eminently proper here, as Madame\nSwetchine never entertained the premeditation implied by the term\n\"works.\" They are marked by a knowledge of the world, a philosophical\nrange of thought, a purity of soul, and an elevation of piety rarely\nunited in one person. Here are a few of her scattered \"Thoughts,\"\nwhich we take almost at random:\n\n     \"Loyalty is patriotism simplified.\"\n\n     \"I like people to be saints; but I want them to be first, and\n     superlatively, honest men.\"\n\n     \"The root of sanctity is sanity. A man must be healthy before he\n     can be holy. We bathe first, and then perfume.\"\n\n     \"We forgive too little--forget too much.\"\n\n     \"Good is slow; it climbs. Evil is swift; it descends. Why should\n     we marvel that it makes great progress in a short time?\"\n\n     \"We must labor unceasingly to render our piety reasonable, and our\n     reason pious.\"\n\n     \"Years do not make sages; they only make old men.\"\n\n     \"Antiquity is a species of aristocracy with which it is not easy\n     to be on visiting terms.\"\n\n     \"The choicest of the public are not always the public choice.\"\n\n     \"The inventory of my faith for this lower world is soon made out.\n     I believe in Him who made it.\"\n\n     \"I allow the Catholic only one right; that, namely, of being a\n     better man than others.\"\n\n     \"Only those faults which we encounter in ourselves are\n     insufferable to us in others.\"\n\n     \"A vast number of attachments subsist on the common hatred of a\n     third person.\"\n\nThe treatise on old age is a classic Christian _De Senectute_, with\nan elevation and morality impossible to Cicero.\n\nThe _Airelles_ (flowers that ripen under the snow) are a series of\nbeautiful reflections, as remarkable for their strength as for their\ndelicacy. They are utterances which sprang from Madame Swetchine's\nown heart, but reached no other; impressions which clothed themselves\nin images to people her solitude. Here are a few which we select with\nhesitation, as we must necessarily confine our choice to the shortest:\n\n     \"To have ideas is to gather flowers. To think is to weave them\n     into garlands.\"\n\n     \"Our vanity is the constant enemy of our dignity.\"\n\n     \"The chains which cramp us most are those which weigh on us least.\"\n\n     \"O widow's mite! why hast thou not, in human balances, the immense\n     weight which celestial pity accords thee?\"\n\n     \"Travel is the frivolous part of serious lives, and the serious\n     part of frivolous ones.\"\n\n     \"We are always looking into the future, but we see only the past.\"\n\n     \"We are often prophets to others only because we are our own\n     historians.\"\n\n     \"We are early struck by bold conceptions and brilliant thoughts;\n     later, we learn to appreciate natural grace and the charm of\n     simplicity. In early youth, we are hardly sensible of any but very\n     lively emotions. All that is not dazzling appears dull; all that\n     is not affecting, cold. Conspicuous beauties overshadow those\n     which must be sought; and the mind, in its haste to enjoy, demands\n     facile pleasures. Ripe age inspires us with other thoughts. We\n     retrace our steps; taste critically what, before, we devoured;\n     study, and make discoveries; and the ray of light, decomposed\n     under our hands, yields a thousand shades for one color.\"\n\n     \"Slavery, for example. Christianity has no need to ordain its\n     abolition--it inspires it; and that is enough for the man who\n     would be governed by the spirit of Christ. It is the imperfect\n     reception of Christianity in the soul which allows slavery to\n     continue; and truth has made no progress unless human bondage\n     has been rendered impossible by its advance. To combat slavery\n     solely from a philanthropic point of view, is too often to lose\n     one's labor, for lust and cupidity mount guard over the system;\n     but to encourage, develop, and stimulate the moral element most\n     antagonistic to human bondage is to accelerate the chances of\n     emancipation, and to multiply them a hundred-fold.\"\n\nThere are various other chapters, comprising a remarkable range of\nsubjects--on the soul, the intellect, on nature, courtesy, music, the\nfine arts, on resignation, the world, the affections, etc.\n\nThe translation is well executed by Miss Harriet W. Preston, and the\ntypography and paper are excellent.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     CATHOLIC DOCTRINE, AS DEFINED BY THE COUNCIL OF TRENT, EXPOUNDED\n     IN A SERIES OF CONFERENCES, DELIVERED IN GENEVA. By the Rev. A.\n     Nampon, S.J. Proposed as a means of reuniting all Christians.\n     Translated from the French, with the approbation of the author,\n     by a member of the University of Oxford. Philadelphia: Peter F.\n     Cunningham. 1869.\n\nWe know of no work recently issued by the American Catholic press\nwhose appearance we more cordially welcome than this of Father\nNampon's, _Catholic Doctrine, as defined by the Council of Trent_.\nIt is truly a book for the times; and we unite with the most Rev.\nArchbishop of Baltimore, whose approbation, together with that of\nthe Archbishops of New York and Cincinnati, and of the Bishop of\nPhiladelphia, it bears, in expressing the conviction that \"it is\nwell calculated to do a great amount of good,\" and the \"hope that\nit may be extensively circulated.\" When the illustrious Bossuet gave\nto the world his incomparable work on Catholic doctrine in contrast\nwith \"Protestant Variations,\" Protestantism was but in its seed-time;\nand the harvest of errors, which it has since so abundantly brought\nforth, had scarcely begun to show itself. Since then, to use the\nwords of the author of the book before us, \"How many new variations\nand divisions have appeared among Protestants! What ruins has the\nexplosion of rationalism scattered on that desolated plain! And what\nweakness has been produced in that which yet remains among them of\nChristian belief! How many doctrines, at that time respected, are now\nthrown aside with contempt in the exercise of private judgment! How\nmuch has the authority of Scripture been shaken! To what an extent\nhave the sublime mysteries of the Trinity, the Incarnation, and,\nindeed, all mystery, all notions of the supernatural, become, in\nthe eyes of an ever-increasing number of those who heretofore were\nChristians, superannuated, absurd, mythological ideas!\"\n\nBut the author of the present volume does not propose to himself to\n_add_ to the work of the great Bossuet--to be a _continuator_ of the\nhistory of the variations. He adopts a different method. Translating\nand setting before the reader the definitions and decrees of the\nsacred Council of Trent, whose work was called forth by, and mainly\ndirected against the errors of the so-called Reformers, or to which\ntheir revolt against the church's authority had given rise, he first\nexpounds the true Catholic doctrine impugned by them, and then\ncontrasts with it the ever-varying opinions and fading beliefs which\nthey undertook to substitute for that doctrine. And this is done so\nclearly and eloquently, and yet so kindly withal, that his book may\nbe specially commended to the Protestant reader, as one wherein he\nwill find Catholic doctrine set forth in its verity, and Protestant\nerror in its deformity, without occasion given to take offence. May\nit fall into the hands of many such readers; and may its perusal be\nto them, as was happily the case with the excellent translator of\nthe book, the occasion of their recognizing the verity of Catholic\ndoctrine, and of their conversion to the Catholic Church!\n\nThe volume is got out in a handsome dress, as are all of Mr.\nCunningham's later publications.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     MAN IN GENESIS AND IN GEOLOGY; OR, THE BIBLICAL ACCOUNT OF\n     MAN'S CREATION, TESTED BY SCIENTIFIC THEORIES OF HIS ORIGIN AND\n     ANTIQUITY. By Joseph P. Thompson, D.D., LL.D. New-York: Samuel R.\n     Wells, 389 Broadway. 1870.\n\nThis is a short treatise of considerable value, showing both research\nand a power of clear reasoning on the part of the author. To a\nvery great extent we concur with his conclusions and opinions, and\naltogether in his estimate of the importance and utility of such\ninvestigations. The student of biblical science will find his book\nuseful to a greater extent than its unpretending size and appearance\nwould indicate; and its general effect, so far as it is circulated\nin the ordinary reading community, must be wholesome, as furnishing\nan antidote to the pseudo-scientific trash which is such a common\narticle of intellectual diet in our day. The lack of a sufficient\nauthority to define what is revealed with certainty prevents the\nauthor from affirming with due assurance some revealed verities, such\nas the unity of the race, and brings down his argument too much to a\nmere balancing of probabilities, a defect which is inherent in modern\npopular theology and philosophy. He makes also an over-estimate of\nthe value of material progress in itself, and its effect on the sum\nof human happiness. Like most Protestant ministers, he is unable\nto keep from betraying his uneasiness in regard to Protestantism\nby bringing in the confident but groundless and unproved assertion\nthat it is the mainspring of all modern civilization, science,\nand progress. Dr. Ewer has fully shown the fallacy of all such\nassumptions, which, at all events, are quite irrelevant to Genesis\nand geology, and would be more appropriately put forth by the author\nin his sermons than in a scientific treatise. There are other things\nwhich are out of keeping with the solid, scholarly character of\nthe best portion of the book, betraying haste and a lack of care\nand finish in the composition. With these deductions, we gladly\nacknowledge our obligations to the learned author for a really\nvaluable contribution to sacred literature.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     A CRITIQUE UPON MR. FFOULKES'S LETTER. By H. I. D. Ryder, of the\n     Oratory. London: Longmans.\n\nMr. Ffoulkes's unfortunate pamphlet is completely pulverized by this\nshort, pithy, and complete reply. Dr. Ward and F. Bottalla have also\nperformed the same task, each in his own way, and we cannot but\ncommiserate any one who falls into the hands of such a trio. We look\nupon Mr. Ffoulkes as a man who has some very good points, and who has\nshown a temper of mind and heart inclining us to judge his mistakes\nvery leniently. His pamphlet is tedious, crude, inconsistent, and\nutterly without any logical or historical basis. It is, nevertheless,\na fair reflex of the state of mind in which many Anglicans are at\npresent detained, so that it is well calculated to do a great amount\nof mischief. Refutations of it are, therefore, not a superfluous\nwork, but a very useful one. We are glad that F. Ryder has answered\nMr. Ffoulkes, for the reason above given; but, apart from this, we\nare glad to see any thing on theological topics from his pen. In our\nopinion he has shown more of the true genius of theology than any\nother of the rising young authors in the Catholic Church of England,\nexcept, perhaps, Fr. Bottalla, who is without his equal in his\nmanner of handling the controversy respecting the papal supremacy.\nF. Ryder is a deep student in certain departments of theology which\nlie below the surface presented in the common text-books; he is\nuncommonly discriminating and judicious, and possesses a fine tact\nwhich enables him to feel the seat and nature of the errors and\nmisconceptions in the English mind most in need of skilful handling.\nWe hope, therefore, that his pen may be employed as frequently as\npossible on theological topics.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS, WITH ILLUSTRATIVE ANECDOTES. From the\n     French of Ernest Menault. With Illustrations. New York: Charles\n     Scribner & Co. 1869. 1 vol. 16mo.\n\nThis is a most interesting work, and is one of the volumes of the\n\"Illustrated Library of Wonders,\" the previous ones of which have\nbeen noticed in our pages. The information given in this little book\nabout insects and animals is highly interesting, and if heeded there\nwould be less need of \"societies for the protection of animals.\"\nIn the preface, the author very justly remarks that \"The marvels\nof animal intelligence claim now more than ever the attention of\nobservers. Without admitting, like some people, that we came from a\nquadruped; without approving the beast-worship of the Egyptians; we\nbelieve that most animals which crawl or walk on the earth, or fly\nin the air, form communities like ourselves. We believe that the\nlower animals possess, in a certain degree, the faculties of man,\nand that our inferior brothers, as St. Francis of Assisi calls them,\npreceded us on earth.\" The illustrations are good, and _apropos_ to\nthe subjects.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     SEEN AND HEARD. Poems, or the Like. By Morrison Heady. Baltimore:\n     Henry C. Turnbull, Jr. 1869.\n\nCriticism is disarmed on taking up the literary productions of an\nauthor who has suffered under almost total loss of sight and hearing\nsince the age of sixteen. That under this double deprivation he\nshould have produced poetry marked by so many vivid passages of\ndescription, is truly remarkable. No wonder that he feelingly seizes\non the fine invocation passage of Young in his _Night Thoughts_:\n\n    \"Silence and Darkness, solemn sisters, twins\n    From ancient Night, who nursed the tender thought\n    To reason, and on reason built resolve--\n    That column of true majesty in man--\n    Assist me; I will thank you in the grave.\"\n\nMr. Heady is known in the West as the Blind Bard of Kentucky, of\nwhich State he is a native.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE WORKS OF HORACE. Edited, with explanatory notes, by Thomas\n     Chase, A.M., Professor in Harvard College. Philadelphia: Eldredge\n     & Brother. New York: J. W. Schermerhorn & Co. 1870.\n\nThis edition of Horace is one of the best we have seen. The type is\nexcellent, the text accurate, the notes neither insufficient nor\nsuperfluous.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     ELEMENTS OF THE GREEK LANGUAGE. Taken from the Greek Grammar of\n     James Hadley, Professor in Yale College. New York: D. Appleton &\n     Co. 1869.\n\nThis excellent \"abridgment of Professor Hadley's Grammar\" will prove,\nwe have no doubt, a very serviceable book. We agree with those who\nhave represented to the professor that his larger grammar is somewhat\ncumbersome to a beginner.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE ELEMENTS OF MOLECULAR MECHANICS. By Joseph Bayma, S.J.,\n     Professor of Philosophy, Stonyhurst College. London and Cambridge:\n     Macmillan & Co.\n\nThis work contains a philosophical, mathematical, and mechanical\ntheory of the ultimate molecular constitution of matter, probably\nthe most generally interesting question now being discussed in the\nscientific world. It is not one which can be dismissed hastily; and\nwe shall, therefore, postpone a fuller notice of this certainly very\nable treatment of the subject to a future number.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\nVOL. X., No. 57.--DECEMBER, 1869.\n\n\n\n\nFATHER HECKER'S FAREWELL SERMON.[59]\n\n\"Render, therefore, to C\u00e6sar the things that are C\u00e6sar's; and to God\nthe things that are God's\"--ST. MATT. xxii 21.\n\n\nThe Pharisees endeavored to entrap our blessed Lord by a dilemma\nwhich would force him to present his doctrine under a false and\nuntenable issue, whichever side of it he might take. He overcame\ntheir cunning by a superior wisdom which reduced them to silence and\ncovered them with shame. In a precisely similar manner the enemies of\nthe church are perpetually endeavoring to force upon her some false\nissue, with equally signal ill success. The Pharisees presented the\nrights of God and the rights of C\u00e6sar as two contrary, antagonistic\nsides of a dilemma, one of which must be chosen to the exclusion of\nthe other, and either one of which would be fatal to the cause of\nJesus Christ. The modern enemies of the church place religion in\nopposition to reason, faith to science, grace to nature, liberty to\nauthority, as if these were contrary and antagonistic to each other.\nThey require us to choose between them. If we choose the first set\nof principles, they expect to ruin our cause by simply showing\nits opposition to the second set; if we choose the second set of\nprinciples, they expect an equally easy victory, because in that case\nreligion and the church become unnecessary. The church will not,\nhowever, permit herself to be placed in any such false position. She\nwill not choose between religion and reason, faith and science, grace\nand nature, authority and liberty, but she will embrace and reconcile\nthem all, giving to each one of them all that is justly due to it.\n\nAt the present moment, when the pope has summoned an oecumenical\ncouncil, the influence of which upon the world is dreaded by\nanti-Catholics and some nominally Catholic statesmen, the cry has\nbecome unusually loud and alarming that the church is assuming an\naggressive attitude against science, civilization, the rights of the\nstate, religious and political liberty. What! the church aggressive,\nher attitude dangerous? It is not long since you all said she was\nan effete institution, an affair of past ages, totally dead! Now\nit seems you have suddenly become afraid of her aggressions, and\nare alarmed lest she should swallow up all modern society. You no\nlonger affect to pity her feebleness, but you exclaim against her\naudacity. Undoubtedly, the convocation of an oecumenical council by\nPius IX. was a very bold act. When you consider his advanced age of\nnearly eighty years, the critical state of Europe, the vastness and\ncomplication of the questions and interests upon which a council must\ndeliberate, and other circumstances well known to you all, which I\nneed not specially enumerate, the act of the pope may very properly\nbe characterized as one of the boldest steps which has ever been\ntaken by any sovereign ruler.\n\nYet, in the light of the Catholic faith, so far from being such\na very bold act, it appears like the most natural and the safest\nthing which he could possibly do. The Catholic faith teaches that\nthe church founded upon the rock of Peter is infallible, by the\npromise and perpetual presence of Christ, the continual, inamissible\nindwelling of the Holy Spirit. In an oecumenical council, where the\nuniversal episcopate is gathered together under the presidency of its\nhead, the successor of Peter, as vicar of Christ, the Catholic Church\nis organized for deliberation and action in the most perfect way\npossible. Who compose a council? The bishops of the world, to whom\nthe right of membership belongs by divine law, and other prelates in\neminent positions to whom the privilege is conceded by ecclesiastical\nlaw. Among them are men of distinct races, of different nations and\nlanguages, and governing dioceses or missions in all the different\nquarters and regions of the globe. The most learned and able men of\nthe Catholic Church, the men who are most experienced in affairs and\nmost intimately connected with the great political interests of the\nworld, the men who have made the greatest sacrifices and performed\nthe most important labors in the cause of God, are to be found\namong them. It is a world-congress of men in every intellectual and\nmoral respect the most venerable that could possibly be collected\non the earth; without comparison superior to any other deliberative\nor legislative assembly. An oecumenical council is, as the church\nteaches and every Catholic is bound to believe, infallibly directed\nand assisted by the Holy Spirit. Its decisions are to be received\nas proceeding from the mouth of God, its definitions of faith are\nfinal, unerring, and unchangeable. It is impossible, therefore,\nto imagine a greater absurdity, a more palpable contradiction,\nthan that of appealing from an oecumenical council to Jesus Christ\nwhile professing to continue a member of the Catholic Church. It is\nappealing from the Holy Spirit to the Son; and, to carry out the\nabsurdity to its utmost length, we have only to suppose one appealing\nfrom the Son to the Father Almighty. The god who is really appealed\nto in such a case is the idol of self in the bosom of the individual.\n\nThe question which is so frequently and anxiously asked, What, then,\nwill the council do? has already been answered by anticipation in\nwhat I have just said, so far as it can be answered, at the present\ntime, or need be answered, to reassure every good Catholic. The\ncouncil will do whatsoever the Holy Ghost dictates. Further than this\nwe cannot say any thing positively. But we can say very distinctly\nand certainly, what the council will _not_ do. If it were to be an\nassembly of Protestant divines, guided each one by his private light,\nor of Swedenborgians, Spiritists, or Mormons, something _piquant_\nmight be expected in the line of new doctrines or new revelations.\nBut since it is a Catholic council, there will be no new revelations\nor new doctrines proclaimed. The church has no mission or authority\nto add any thing to the deposit of faith, committed by our Lord,\norally or by inspiration of the Holy Spirit, to the apostles. Her\noffice is to guard, to teach, to protect, and explain the faith.\nShe decides what Jesus Christ taught to the apostles, and they to\ntheir successors, according to evidence contained in Scripture and\napostolic tradition, assisted by the infallible light of the Holy\nSpirit. Whatever she defines as pertaining to Catholic faith has\nalways been believed in the church. The council will, therefore,\nso far as relates to faith, proclaim no new doctrines, but merely\nexplain, so far as necessary, the ancient faith as it is opposed to\nthe errors of the day, and declare in a more precise and explicit\nmanner that which is really contained in the divine revelation, and,\ntherefore, always implicitly believed by every Catholic.\n\nIn respect to discipline, the church has no power to alter any divine\nlaws; but she has power over her own laws, to add to them, to amend,\nmodify, or abrogate them. In matters of variable discipline, the\ncouncil will, therefore, consider how far any new legislation is\nnecessary and expedient, will make such enactments as it shall deem\nbest, and these will become part of the supreme, universal law of the\nchurch, binding on the conscience of all its members.\n\nBut it is objected, and even some ill-informed or disaffected\nCatholics are found to join in the cry, the Roman court will prevail\nin the council, the bishops will not be free to discuss or decide any\nthing; for every thing has already been determined by the pope, who\nwill impose his will as law upon the council. Be it so! All I have to\nsay, then, is that, if the Roman court prevail, it is the Holy Ghost\nwho prevails through the Roman court. Those who use such language\nknow but little of the real state of things at the Roman court, or\nof the character of the prelates who will compose the council. In\nregard to the Roman court, I can speak from my own personal knowledge\nand experience. There is no sovereign on earth toward whom so much\nfreedom of speech is used, by those whose position and character\nqualify them to give him advice, as the sovereign pontiff. There is\nno place where there is so much freedom of opinion and discussion as\nRome. The former councils, and especially that of Trent, show how\ngreat is the freedom of debate, and how thorough the discussion of\ntopics which prevails in these august assemblies. I will speak of but\none instance, that of the Archbishop of Braga, at Trent, who insisted\nin the most pointed manner on the obligation which rested on the most\nillustrious cardinals to set the example to the rest of the faithful,\nof \"a most illustrious reform.\" So far from giving offence at Rome,\nthe freedom of this holy prelate caused him to be treated by the pope\nwith the most distinguished consideration, and honored by marks of\nthe warmest friendship. The prelates who will compose the council\nof the Vatican are not men who can be either allured or terrified\nby any human or worldly motives into any action contrary to their\nconsciences or their convictions.\n\nBut the pope has already in his recent encyclical and syllabus, with\nthe acquiescence of the great body of Catholic bishops, condemned\nscience, progress, civilization, and liberty.\n\nWhat is the authority on which this assertion is made? The\nnewspapers. The _newspapers_! Who would not be ashamed to cite such\nan authority on such a subject. Newspaper articles written, as some\nof them openly confess, chiefly with a view of making a sensation,\nby persons destitute of the proper information for speaking\nintelligently on ecclesiastical matters, and too frequently not of\na disposition to tell the truth if they knew it. To place faith in\nopposition to science is a patent absurdity, for it is the same as\nopposing truth to truth. And there is no person upon whom the charge\nof maintaining such an absurdity can be fastened with less justice\nthan Pius IX. There is no pontiff who has appeared to take such an\nespecial pride and delight in maintaining by his decisions and by\nthe magnificent language of his pontifical letters the dignity and\nthe rights of human reason as he has, a fact which I could easily\nprove by citations, if the time permitted. But let us know what those\npersons who charge the syllabus with opposing science, signify by\nthat term. If they mean by it the theories of sophists like Humboldt,\nHuxley, Comte, Mill, Spencer, and certain philosophers of Boston,\nwho dethrone God, deify matter, degrade the rational and spiritual\nnature of man, and reduce all knowledge to a chaos of scepticism, the\npope and the church are opposed to all such science as that. Whoever\nupholds it is certainly fully authorized to apply to himself the\ndefinition which his favorite philosophy gives of man; to wit, that\nhe is nothing more than _a finely organized ape_.\n\nWhat do they mean by progress and civilization? Is it the supremacy\nof material interests, the dictatorial control of the state over\neducation, the doctrine that the chief end of man is to establish\nrailways and telegraphic lines? Then the church is opposed to them.\nBut to call her the enemy of civilization in the true, genuine sense\nof the word, is not only false, but the basest ingratitude on the\npart of those to whom she has given that inheritance of civilization\non which all the nations of Christendom are at this moment living.\n\nWhat do they mean by liberty? Freedom from all religion, from all\nmoral restraints, from the bonds and obligations of marriage, the\nsubjection of the church to the power of civil rulers, and the\natheistic constitution of the political and social state? To all\nthese the church is opposed, and these she will resist to the last\ndrop of her blood. And so are you opposed to them, if you have\nthe sentiments of a man or make any pretension to the name of a\nChristian. So are the wisest and most virtuous of those who are out\nof the communion of the church, by whatever name they may choose to\nbe designated. Such false liberalism as this we all alike detest, and\nmust oppose with all our strength; for it is destructive of that only\ntrue liberty which we prize above all things--the \"_liberty of the\nchildren of God_.\"\n\nI have thought it necessary, my dear brethren--I may say my beloved\nchildren in Christ, for I am your pastor--to present before you these\nconsiderations on the eve of my departure to attend the Oecumenical\nCouncil.\n\nIt is not that you have need to be taught these things--for you are\nbelieving and instructed Catholics--that I have presented them before\nyou; but that you may better understand what great benefits and\nblessings we may expect to flow from the deliberations and acts of\nthat great council which is about to assemble, the most numerous and\nthe most important which has been seen in the church for centuries.\nI desire you to look forward, as I do, to a new and glorious era in\nthe church's history, an era of the triumph of faith and holiness, in\nwhich I trust our own country is destined to become the theatre of a\nbrilliant development of the Catholic religion. I earnestly recommend\nto your prayers the success of the great work which is before the\ncouncil, and my own prosperous return to you after its close. As I\nkneel at the sepulchre of the holy apostles SS. Peter and Paul, and\nbefore the holy shrines of the saints, I will remember you; and in\nnow taking my leave of you for a short time, I pray God to give you\nhis blessing, and to keep us all in peace and safety until we shall\nmeet again.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[59] Preached at St. Paul's church, New York, Sunday, October 17th,\n1869, previous to his departure for Europe to attend the Oecumenical\nCouncil.\n\n\n\n\nTRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF CONRAD VON BOLANDEN.\n\nANGELA.\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nTHE ULTRAMONTANE WAY OF THINKING.\n\nOn the following morning no message was sent for the doctor. The\nchild had died, as Klingenberg foretold. Frank thought of the great\naffliction of the Siegwart family--Angela in tears and the father\nbroken down with grief. It drove him from Frankenh\u00f6he. In a quarter\nof an hour he was at the house of the proprietor.\n\nA servant came weeping to meet him.\n\n\"You cannot speak to my master,\" said she. \"We had a bad night. My\nmaster is almost out of his mind; he has only just now lain down.\nPoor Eliza! the dear, good child.\" And the tears burst forth again.\n\n\"When did the child die?\"\n\n\"At four o'clock this morning; and how beautiful she still looks in\ndeath! You would think she is only sleeping. If you wish to see her,\njust go up to the same room in which you were yesterday.\"\n\nAfter some hesitation, Frank ascended the stairs and entered the\nroom. As he passed the threshold, he paused, greatly surprised at the\nsight that met his view. The room was darkened, the shutters closed,\nand across the room streamed the broken rays of the morning sun. On a\nwhite-covered table burned wax candles, in the midst of which stood a\nlarge crucifix; there was also a holy-water vase, and in it a green\nbranch. On the white cushions of the bed reposed Eliza, a crown of\nevergreens about her forehead and a little crucifix in her folded\nhands. Her countenance was not the least disfigured; only about her\nsoftly-closed eyes there was a dark shade, and the lifelike freshness\nof the lips had vanished. Angela sat near the bed on a low stool; she\nhad laid her head near that of her sister, and in consequence of a\nwakeful night was fast asleep. Eliza's little head lay in her arms,\nand in her hand she held the same rosary that he had found near the\nstatue. Frank stood immovable before the interesting group.\n\nThe most beautiful form he had ever beheld he now saw in close\ncontact with the dead. Earnest thoughts passed through his mind. The\nfleetingness of all earthly things vividly occurred to him. Eliza's\ncorpse reminded him impressively that her sister, the charming\nAngela, must meet the same inevitable fate. His eyes rested on the\nbeautiful features of the sufferer, which were not in the least\ndisfigured by bitter or gloomy dreams, and which expressed in sleep\nthe sweetest peace. She slept as gently and confidingly near Eliza as\nif she did not know the abyss which death had placed between them.\nThe only disorder in Angela's external appearance was the glistening\ncurls of hair that hung loose over her shoulders on her breast.\n\nAt length Frank departed, with the determination of returning to make\nhis visit of condolence. After the accustomed walk with Klingenberg,\nhe went immediately back to Siegwart's.\n\nWhen he returned home, he wrote in his diary:\n\n     \"May 21st.--Surprising and wonderful!\n\n     \"When my uncle's little Agnes died, my aunt took ill, and my\n     uncle's condition bordered on insanity; tortured by excruciating\n     anguish, he murmured against providence. He accused God of\n     cruelty and injustice, because he took from him a child he loved\n     so much. He lost all self-control, and had not strength to bear\n     the misfortune with resignation. And now the Siegwart family\n     are in the same circumstances; the father is much broken down,\n     much afflicted, but very resigned; his trembling lips betray the\n     affliction that presses on his heart, but they make no complaints\n     against providence.\n\n     \"'I thank you for your sympathy,' said he to me. 'The trial is\n     painful; but God knows what he does. The Lord gave me the dear\n     child; the Lord has taken her away. His holy will be done.' So\n     spoke Siegwart. While he said this, a perceptible pain changed\n     his manly countenance, and he lay like a quivering victim on the\n     altar of the Lord. Siegwart's wife, a beautiful woman, with calm,\n     mild eyes, wept inwardly. Her mother's heart bled from a thousand\n     wounds; but she showed the same self-control and resignation as\n     Siegwart did, to the will of the Most High.\n\n     \"And Angela? I do not understand her at all. She speaks of Eliza\n     as of one sleeping, or of one who has gone to a place where she\n     is happy. But sometimes a spasm twitches her features; then her\n     eyes rest on the crucifix that stands amid the lighted candles.\n     The contemplation of the crucifix seems to afford her strength and\n     vigor. This is a mystery to me. I cannot conceive the mysterious\n     power of that carved figure.\n\n     \"Misery does not depress these people; it ennobles them. I have\n     never seen the like. When I compare their conduct with that of\n     those I have known, I confess that the Siegwart family puts my\n     acquaintance as well as myself to shame.\n\n     \"What gives these people this strength, this calm, this\n     resignation? Religion, perhaps. Then religion is infinitely more\n     than a mere conception, a mere external rule of faith.\n\n     \"I am beginning to suspect that between heaven and earth there\n     exists, for those who live for heaven, a warm, living union.\n     It appears to me that Providence does not, indeed, exempt the\n     faithful from the common lot of earthly affliction; but he gives\n     them strength which transcends the power of human nature.\n\n     \"I have undertaken the task of putting Angela to the test, and\n     what do I find? Admiration for her--shame for myself; and also the\n     certainty that my views of women must be restricted.\"\n\nHe had scarcely written down these thoughts, when he bit impatiently\nthe pen between his teeth.\n\n     \"We must not be hasty in our judgments,\" he wrote further.\n     \"Perhaps it is my ignorance of the depth of the human heart that\n     causes me to consider in so favorable a light the occurrences in\n     the Siegwart family.\n\n     \"Perhaps it is a kind of stupidity of mind, an unrefined\n     feeling, a frivolous perception of fatality, that gives these\n     people this quiet and resignation. My judgment shall not be made\n     up. Angela may conceal beneath the loveliness of her nature\n     characteristics and failings which may justify my opinion of the\n     sex, notwithstanding.\"\n\nWith a peculiar stubbornness which struggles to maintain a favorite\nconviction, he closed the diary.\n\nOn the second day after Eliza's death the body was consigned to the\nearth. Frank followed the diminutive coffin, which was carried by\nfour little girls dressed in white. The youthful bearers had wreaths\nof flowers on their heads and blue silk ribbons about their waists,\nthe ends of which hung down.\n\nAfter these followed a band of girls, also dressed in white and blue.\nThey had flowers fixed in their hair, and in their hands they carried\na large wreath of evergreens and roses. The whole community followed\nthe procession--a proof of the great respect the proprietor enjoyed\namong his neighbors. Siegwart's manner was quiet, but his eyes were\ninflamed. As the coffin was lowered into the ground, the larks sang\nin the air, and the birds in the bushes around joined their sweet\ncadences with the not plaintive but joyful melodies which were sung\nby a choir of little girls. The church ceremonies, like nature,\nbreathed joy and triumph, much to Richard's astonishment. He did not\nunderstand how these songs of gladness and festive costumes could be\nreconciled with the open grave. He believed that the feelings of the\nmourners must be hurt by all this. He remained with the family at the\ngrave till the little mound was smoothed and finished above it. The\npeople scattered over the graveyard, and knelt praying before the\ndifferent graves. The cross was planted on Eliza's resting-place,\nand the girls placed the large wreath on the little mound. Siegwart\nspoke words of consolation to his wife as he conducted her to the\ncarriage. Angela, sunk in sadness, still remained weeping at the\ngrave. Richard approached and offered her his arm. The carriage\nproceeded toward Salingen and stopped before the church, whose bells\nwere tolling. The service began. Again was Richard surprised at the\njoyful melody of the church hymns. The organ pealed forth joyfully\nas on a festival. Even the priest at the altar did not wear black,\nbut white vestments. Frank, unfamiliar with the deep spirit of the\nCatholic liturgy, could not understand this singular funeral service.\n\nAfter service the family returned. Frank sat opposite to Angela, who\nwas very sad, but in no way depressed. He even thought he saw now and\nthen the light of a peculiar joy in her countenance. Madame Siegwart\ncould not succeed in overcoming her maternal sorrow. Her tears burst\nforth anew, and her husband consoled her with tender words.\n\nFrank strove to divert Angela from her sad thoughts. As he thought it\nwould not be in good taste to speak of ordinary matters, he expressed\nhis surprise at the manner of the burial.\n\n\"Your sister,\" said he, \"was interred with a solemnity which excited\nmy surprise, and, I confess, my disapprobation. Not a single hymn\nof sorrow was sung, either at the grave or in the church. One would\nnot believe that those white-clad girls with wreaths of flowers on\ntheir heads were carrying the soulless body of a beloved being to the\ngrave. The whole character of the funeral was that of rejoicing. How\nis this, Fr\u00e4ulein Angela; is that the custom here?\"\n\nShe looked at him somewhat astonished.\n\n\"That is the custom in the whole Catholic Church,\" she replied. \"At\nthe burial of children she excludes all sadness; and for that reason\nmasses of requiem in black vestments are never said for them; but\nmasses of the angels in white.\"\n\n\"Do you not think the custom is in contradiction to the sentiments of\nnature--to the sorrowful feelings of those who remain?\"\n\n\"Yes, I believe so,\" she answered tranquilly. \"Human nature grieves\nabout many things over which the spirit should rejoice.\"\n\nThese words sounded enigmatically to Richard.\n\n\"I do not comprehend the meaning of your words, Fr\u00e4ulein Angela.\"\n\n\"Grief at the death of a relative is proper for us, because a\nbeloved person has been taken from our midst. But the church, on the\ncontrary, rejoices because an innocent, pure soul has reached the\ngoal after which we all strive--eternal happiness. You see, Herr\nFrank, that the church considers the departure of a child from this\nworld from a more exalted point of view, and comprehends it in a more\nspiritual sense, than the natural affection. While the heart grows\nweak from sadness, the church teaches us that Eliza is happy; that\nshe has gone before us, and that we will be separated from her but\nfor a short time; that between us there is a spiritual union which\nis based on the communion of saints. Faith teaches me that Eliza,\nrescued from all afflictions and disappointments, is happy in the\nkingdom of the blessed. If I could call her back, I would not do it;\nfor this desire springs from egotism, which can make no sacrifices to\nlove.\"\n\nHer eyes were full of tears as she said these last words. But that\npeculiar joy which Richard had before observed, and the meaning of\nwhich he now understood, again lighted up her countenance. He leaned\nback in the carriage, and was forced to admit that the religious\nconception of death was very consoling, even grand, when compared\nwith that conception which modern enlightenment has of it.\n\nThe carriage moved slowly through the silent court-yard, which lay\nas gloomy under the clouds as though it had put on mourning for the\ndead. The chickens sat huddled together in a corner, their heads\nsadly drooping. Even the garrulous sparrows were silent, and through\nthe linden tops came a low, rustling sound like greetings from\nanother world.\n\nAssisted by Richard's hand, Angela descended from the carriage.\nHer father thanked him for his sympathy, and expressed a wish to\nsee him soon again in the family circle. As Richard glanced at\nAngela, he thought he read in her look a confirmation of all her\nfather said. Siegwart's invitation was unnecessary. The young man\nwas attracted more strongly to the proprietor's house as Angela's\nqualities revealed themselves to his astonished view more clearly.\nBut Frank would not believe in the spotlessness and sublime dignity\nof a Christian maiden. He did not change his former judgment against\nthe sex. His stubbornness still persisted in the opinion that Angela\nhad her failings, which, if manifested, would obscure the external\nbrilliancy of her appearance, but which remained hidden from view.\nContinued observation alone would, in Frank's opinion, succeed in\ndisclosing the repulsive shadows.\n\nPerhaps a proud determination to justify his former opinions lay\nless at the bottom of this obstinate tenacity than an unconscious\nstratagem. The young man anticipated that his respect for Angela\nwould end in passionate affection as soon as she stood before him\nin the full, serene power of her beauty. He feared this power, and\ntherefore combated her claims.\n\nThe professor had returned from his excursion into the mountains, and\nrelated what he had seen and heard.\n\n\"Such excursions on historic grounds,\" said he, \"are interesting and\ninstructive to the historical inquirer. What historical sources hint\nat darkly become distinct, and many incredible things become clear\nand intelligible. Thus, I once read in an old chronicle that the\nmonks during choral service sung with such enchanting sweetness that\nthe empress and her ladies and knights who were present burst into\ntears. I smiled at this passage from the garrulous old chronicler,\nand thought that the fabulous spirit of the middle ages had descended\ninto the pen of the good man. How often have I heard Mozart's divine\nmusic, how often have I been entranced by the stormy, thrilling\nfantasies of Beethoven! But I was never moved to tears, and I never\nsaw even delicate ladies weep. Two days ago, I wandered alone among\nthe ruins of the abbey of Hagenroth. I stood in the ruined church;\nabove was the unclouded sky, and high round about me the naked walls.\nHere and there upon the walls hung patches of plaster, and these were\npainted. I examined the paintings and found them of remarkable purity\nand depth of sentiment. I examined the painted columns in the nave\nand choir, and found a beautiful harmony. I admired the excellence\nof the colors, on which it has snowed, rained, and frozen for three\nhundred and twenty years. I then examined the fallen columns,\nthe heavy capitals, the beauty of the ornaments, and from these\nsignificant remnants my imagination built up the whole structure,\nand the church loomed up before me in all its simple grandeur and\ncharming finish. I was forced to recognize and admire those artists\nwho knew how to produce such wonderful and charming effects by such\nsimple combinations. I thought on that passage of the chronicle, and\nI believe if, at that moment, the simple, pure chant of the monks had\nechoed through the basilica, I also would have been moved to tears.\nIf the monks knew, thought I, how to captivate and charm by their\narchitecture, why could they not do the same with music?\"\n\n\"The stupid monks!\" said Richard.\n\n\"If you had spoken those words at my side in that tone as I stood\namid those ruins, they would have sounded like malicious envy from\nthe mouth of the spirit of darkness.\"\n\n\"Your admiration for the monks is indeed a great curiosity,\" said\nFrank, smiling. \"Sybel's congenial friend a eulogist of the monks!\nThat indeed is as strange as a square circle.\"\n\n\"If I admire the splendor of heathenism, must I not also admire the\nfascinating, still depth of Christian childhood? In heathenism as\nwell as in Christianity human genius accomplishes great and sublime\nthings.\"\n\n\"That, in its whole extent, I must dispute,\" said Frank. \"Where is\nthe splendor and greatness of heathenism? The heathen built palaces\nof great magnificence, but crime stalked naked about in them. When\nthe lord of the palace killed his slaves for his amusement, there\nwas no law to condemn him. When lords and ladies at their epicurean\nfeasts would step aside into small apartments, there by artificial\nmeans to empty their gorged stomachs, they did not offend either\nagainst heathen decency or its law of moderation. The marble columns\nproudly supported gilded arches; but when beneath those arches a\nhuman victim bled under the knife of the priests, this was in harmony\nwith the genius of heathenism. The amphitheatres were immense halls,\nfull of art and magnificence, in which a hundred thousand spectators\ncould sit and behold with delight the lions and tigers devour slaves,\nor the gladiators slaughtering each other for their amusement. No.\nTrue greatness and real splendor I do not find in heathenism. Where\nheathen greatness is, there terrible darkness, profound error, and\nhorrible customs abound. Christianity had to contend for three\nhundred years to destroy the abominations of heathenism.\"\n\n\"I will not dispute about it now,\" said Lutz. \"You shall not destroy\nby your criticism the beautiful impressions of my excursion. I\nalso met the Swedes on my tour. About thirty miles from here there\nis, among the hills, a valley. The peasants call the place the\n'murder-chamber.' I suspected that the name might be associated\nwith some historical event, and, on inquiry, I found such to be the\ncase. In the Thirty Years' War, when Gustavus Adolphus, the pious\nhero, passed through the German provinces murdering and robbing, the\ninhabitants of the neighborhood fled with their wives, children,\nand property to this remote valley. They imagined themselves hid in\nthese woods and defiles from the wandering Swedes, but they deceived\nthemselves. Their hiding-place was discovered, and every living\nthing--cows, calves, and oxen excepted--was put to the sword. 'The\nblood of the massacred,' said my informer, 'flowed down the valley\nlike a brook; and for fifty years the neighborhood was desolate,\nbecause the Swedes had destroyed every thing.' Such masterpieces of\nSwedish blood-thirstiness are found in many places in Germany; and\nas the people celebrate them in song and story, it is certain that\nthe pious hero has won for himself imperishable fame in the art of\nslaughter.\"\n\n\"Do you not wish to have the 'murder-chamber' appear in Sybel's\nperiodical?\"\n\n\"No; fable must be carefully separated from history; and in this case\nI want the inclination for the subject.\"\n\n\"Fabulous! I find in the 'murder-chamber' nothing but the true\nSwedish nature of that time.\"\n\nThe professor shrugged his shoulders.\n\n\"Gustavus Adolphus may wander for ever about Germany as the 'pious\nhero,' if for no other purpose than to annoy the ultramontanes.\"\n\nFrank thought of the Siegwart family.\n\n\"I believe we are unjust in our judgments of the ultramontanes,\"\nsaid he. \"I visit every day a family which my father declares not\nonly to be ultramontane, but even clerical, and on account of it\nwill not associate with them. But I saw there only the noble, good,\nand beautiful.\" And he reported circumstantially what he knew of the\nSiegwart family.\n\n\"You have observed carefully; and in particular no feature of Angela\nhas escaped you. This Angela,\" he continued jocosely, \"must be\nan incarnate ideal of the other world, since she has excited the\ninterest of my friend, even though she wears crinoline.\"\n\n\"But she does not wear crinoline,\" said Frank.\n\n\"Not!\" returned the professor, smiling. \"Then it is just right. The\nAngel of Salingen belongs to the nine choirs of angels, and was sent\nto the earth in woman's form to win my proud, woman-hating friend to\nthe fair sex.\"\n\n\"My conversion to the highest admiration of women is by no means\nimpossible; at least in one case,\" answered Richard, in the same\nearnest tone.\n\n\"I am astonished!\" said the professor. \"My interest is boundless.\nCould I not see this wonderful lady?\"\n\n\"Why not? It is eight o'clock. At this hour I am accustomed to make\nmy visit.\"\n\n\"Let us go, by all means,\" urged Lutz.\n\nOn the way Frank spoke of Angela's charitable practices, of her love\nfor the poor, her pious customs, and of her deep religious sentiment,\nwhich manifested itself in every thing; of her activity in household\nmatters, of her modesty and humility. All this he said in a tone of\nenthusiasm. The professor listened with attention and smiled.\n\nAs they went through the gate into the large court-yard, they saw\nAngela standing under the lindens. She held a large dish in her hand.\nAbout her pressed and crowded the representatives of all races and\nnations of that multitude which material progress has raised from\nslavish degradation. From Angela's hand rained golden corn among\nthe chattering brood, who, pressed by a ravenous appetite, hungrily\nshoved, pushed, and upset each other. Even the chivalrous cocks had\nforgotten their propriety, and greedily snatched up the yellow fruit\nwithout gallantly cooing and offering the treasure to the females.\nNimble ducks glided between the legs of the turkeys and snatched up,\nquick as lightning, the grains from their open bills. This did not\nplease the turkeys, who gobbled and struck their sharp bills into the\nbobbing heads of the ducks. A solitary turkey cock alone scorned to\nparticipate in the hungry pleasures of the common herd. He spread his\nwings stiffly like a crinoline around his body, strutted about the\nyard, uttered a gallant guttural gobble, and played the fine lady in\nstyle.\n\nNear the gate stood the stalls. They all had double doors, so that\nthe upper part could be opened while the lower half remained closed.\nAs the two friends passed, they saw a massive head protruding through\nthe open half of one of those doors. The head was red, and was set\nupon the powerful shoulders of a steer who had broken loose from his\nfastening to take a walk about the yard. When he saw the strangers,\nhe began to snort, cock his ears, and shake his head, while his fiery\neyes rolled wildly in his head.\n\n\"A handsome beast,\" said Frank, as he stopped. \"How wide his\nforehead, how strong his horns, how powerful his chest!\"\n\n\"His head,\" said Lutz, \"would be an expressive symbol for the\nevangelist Luke.\"\n\nThe steer was not pleased with these compliments. Bellowing angrily\nhe rushed against the door, which gave way. Slowly and powerfully\ncame forth from the darkness of the stall the colossal limbs of\nthe dangerous beast. The friends, unexpectedly placed in the power\nof this terrible enemy, stood paralyzed. They beheld the colossus\nlashing his sides with his tail, lowering his head threateningly,\nand maliciously stealing toward them like a cat stealing to a mouse\ntill she gets within a sure spring of it. The steer had evidently the\nsame design on the strangers. He thought to crush them with his iron\nforehead and amuse himself with tossing up their lifeless bodies.\nThey saw this, clearly enough, but there was no time for flight. The\nred steer in his mad onset would certainly overtake and run them\ndown. Luckily, the professor remembered from the Spanish bull-fights\nhow they must meet these beasts, and he quickly warned his friend.\n\n\"If he charges, slip quickly to one side.\"\n\nScarcely had the words escaped his trembling lips, when the steer\ngave a short bellow, lowered his head, and, quick as an arrow,\nrushed upon Frank. He jumped to one side, but slipped and fell to\nthe ground. The steer dashed against a wagon that was standing near,\nand broke several of the spokes. Maddened at the failure of his\ncharge, he turned quickly about and saw Frank lying on the ground,\nand rejoiced over his helpless victim. Richard commended his soul\nto God, but had enough presence of mind not to move a limb; he even\nkept his eyes closed. The steer snuffed about, and Frank felt his\nwarm breath. The steer evidently did not know how to begin with the\nlifeless thing, until he took it into his head to stick his horns\ninto the yielding mass. The young man was lost--now the steer lowered\nhis horns--now came the rescue.\n\nAngela had only observed the visitor as the bellowing steer rushed at\nhim. All this took but a minute. The servants were not then in the\nyard; and before they could be called, Richard would be gored a dozen\ntimes by the sharp weapons of the steer. The professor trembled in\nevery limb; he neither dared to cry for help, lest he might remind\nthe steer of his presence, nor to move from the place. He seemed\ndestined to be compelled to see his friend breathe out his life under\nthe torturing stabs.\n\nBefore this happened, however, Angela's voice rang imperatively\nthrough the yard. The astonished steer raised his head, and when he\nsaw the frail form coming toward him with the dish in her hand, he\ngave forth a friendly low, and had even the good grace to go a few\nsteps to meet her.\n\n\"Falk, what are you about?\" said she reproachfully. \"You are a\nterrible beast to treat visitors so.\"\n\nFalk lowed his apology, and, as he perceived the contents of the\ndish, he awkwardly sank his mouth into it. Angela scratched his\njaws, at which he was so delighted that he even forgot the dish and\nheld still like a child. The professor looked on this scene with\namazement--the airy form before the murderous head of the steer. As\nMaster Falk began even to lick Angela's hand, the professor was very\nnear believing in miracles.\n\n\"So now, be right good, Falk!\" said she coaxingly; \"now go back where\nyou belong. Keep perfectly quiet, Herr Frank; do not move, and it\nwill be soon over.\"\n\nShe patted the steer on the broad neck, and holding the dish before\nhim, led him to the stall, into which he quickly disappeared.\n\nFrank arose.\n\n\"You are not hurt?\" asked Lutz with concern.\n\n\"Not in the least,\" answered Frank, taking out his pocket\nhandkerchief and brushing the dust from his clothes. The professor\nbrought him his hat, which had bounced away when he fell, and placed\nit on the head of his trembling friend.\n\nAngela returned after housing the steer. Frank went some steps toward\nher, as if to thank her on his knees for his life; but he concluded\nto stand, and a sad smile passed over his countenance.\n\n\"Fr\u00e4ulein Angela,\" said he, \"I have the honor of introducing to you\nmy friend, Herr Lutz, professor at our university.\"\n\n\"It gives me pleasure to know the gentleman,\" said she. \"But I regret\nthat, through the negligence of Louis, you have been in great danger.\nGreat God! if I had not been in the yard.\" And her beautiful face\nbecame as pale as marble.\n\nRichard observed this expression of fright, and it shot through\nhis melancholy smile like rays of the highest delight; but for his\npreserver he had not a single word of thanks. Lutz, not understanding\nthis conduct, was displeased at his friend, and undertook himself to\nreturn her thanks.\n\n\"You have placed yourself in the greatest danger, Fr\u00e4ulein Angela,\"\nsaid he. \"Had I been able when you went to meet the steer, I would\nhave held you back with both hands; but I must acknowledge that I was\npalsied by fear.\"\n\n\"I placed myself in no danger,\" she replied. \"Falk knows me well, and\nhas to thank me for many dainties. When father is away, I have to go\ninto the stalls to see if the servants have done their work. So all\nthe animals know me, and I can call them all by name.\"\n\nThey went into the house.\n\n\"It is well that my parents are absent to-day, and that the accident\nwas observed by no one; for my father would discharge the Swiss who\nhas charge of the animals, for his negligence. I would be sorry for\nthe poor man. I beg of you, therefore, to say nothing of it to my\nfather. I will correct him for it, and I am sure he will be more\ncareful in future.\"\n\nWhile she spoke, the eyes of the professor rested upon her, and it is\nscarcely doubtful that in his present judgment the splendor of the\nrostrum was eclipsed. Frank sat silent, observing. He scarcely joined\nin the conversation, which his friend conducted with great warmth.\n\n\"This occurrence,\" said Lutz, on his way home, \"appears to me like an\nepisode from the land of fables and wonders. First, the steer fight;\nthen the overcoming of the beast by a maiden; lastly, a maid of such\nbeauty that all the fair ones of romance are thrown in the shade. By\nheaven, I must call all my learning to my aid in order to be able to\nforget her and not fall in love up to the ears!\"\n\nFrank said nothing.\n\n\"And you did not even thank her!\" said Lutz vehemently. \"Your conduct\nwas more than ungallant. I do not understand you.\"\n\n\"Nothing without reason,\" said Frank.\n\n\"No matter! Your conduct cannot be justified,\" growled the professor.\n\"I would like to know the reason that prevented you from thanking\nyour preserver for your life?\"\n\nRichard stopped, looked quietly into the glowing countenance of his\nfriend, and proceeded doubtingly,\n\n\"You shall know all, and then judge if my offensive conduct is not\npardonable.\"\n\nHe began to relate how he met Angela for the first time on the lonely\nroad in the forest, how she then made a deep impression on him, what\nhe learned of her from the poor man and from Klingenberg, and how\nhis opinion of womankind had been shaken by Angela; then he spoke of\nhis object in visiting the Siegwart family, of his observations and\nexperience.\n\n\"I had about come to the conclusion, and the occurrence of to-day\nrealizes that conclusion, that Angela possesses that admirable virtue\nwhich, until now, I believed only to exist in the ideal world. If\nthere is a spark of vanity in her, I must have offended her. She must\nhave looked resentfully at me, the ungrateful man, and treated me\nsulkily. But such was not the case; her eyes rested on me with the\nsame clearness and kindness as ever. My coarse unthankfulness did not\noffend her, because she does not think much of herself, because she\nmakes no pretensions, because she does not know her great excellence,\nbut considers her little human weaknesses in the light of religious\nperfection--in short, because she is truly humble. She will bury\nthis dauntless deed in forgetfulness. She does not wish the little\nand great journals to bring her courage into publicity. Tell me a\nwoman, or even a man, who could be capable of such modesty? Who\nwould risk life to rescue a stranger from the horns of a ferocious\nsteer without hesitation, and not desire an acknowledgment of the\nheroic deed? How great is Angela, how admirable in every act! I was\nunthankful; yes, in the highest degree unthankful. But I placed\nmyself willingly in this odious light, in order to see Angela in full\nsplendor. As I said,\" he concluded quietly, \"I must soon confess\nmyself besieged--vanquished on the whole line of observation.\"\n\n\"And what then?\" said the professor.\n\n\"Then I am convinced,\" said Richard, \"that female worth exists,\nshining and brilliant, and that in the camp of the ultramontanes.\"\n\n\"A shaming experience for us,\" replied the professor. \"You make\nyour studies practical, you destroy all the results of learned\ninvestigation by living facts. To be just; it must be admitted that a\nwoman like what you have described Angela to be only grows and ripens\non the ground of religious influences and convictions.\"\n\n\"And did you observe,\" said Richard, \"how modestly she veiled\nthe splendor of her brave action? She denied that there was any\ndanger in the presence of the steer, although it is well known\nthat those beasts in moments of rage forget all friendship. Angela\nmust certainly have felt this as she went to meet the horns of the\ninfuriated animal to rescue me.\"\n\nFrank visited daily, and sometimes twice a day, the Siegwart family;\nhe was always received with welcome, and might be considered an\nintimate friend. The family spirit unfolded itself clearer and\nclearer to his view. He found that every thing in that house was\npervaded by a religious influence, and this without any design or\nhaughty piety. The assessor was destined to receive a striking proof\nof this.\n\nOne afternoon a coach rolled into the court-yard. The family were at\ntea. The Assessor von Hamm entered, dressed entirely in black; even\nthe red ribbon was wanting in the button-hole.\n\n\"I have learned with grief of the misfortune that has overtaken you,\"\nsaid he after a very formal reception. \"I obey the impulse of my\nheart when I express my sincere sympathy in the great affliction you\nhave suffered in the death of the dear little Eliza.\"\n\nThe tears came into the eyes of Madame Siegwart. Angela looked\nstraight before her, as if to avoid the glance of the assessor.\n\n\"We thank you, Herr von Hamm,\" returned the proprietor. \"We were\nseverely tried, but we are reasonable enough to know that our family\ncannot be exempted from the afflictions of human life.\"\n\nHamm sat down, a cup was set before him, and Angela poured him out a\ncup of fragrant tea. The assessor acknowledged this service with his\nsweetest smile, and the most obliged expression of thanks.\n\n\"You are right,\" he then said. \"No one is exempt from the stroke of\nfate. Man must submit to the unavoidable. To the ancients, blind fate\nwas terrific and frightful. The present enlightenment submits with\nresignation.\"\n\nIf a bomb had plunged into the room and exploded upon the table, it\ncould not have produced greater confusion than these words of the\nassessor. Madame Siegwart looked at him with astonishment and shook\nher head. The proprietor, embarrassed, sipped his tea. Angela's\nblooming cheeks lost their color. Hamm did not even perceive the\neffect of his fatal words, and Frank was scarcely able to hide his\nsecret pleasure at Hamm's sad mishap.\n\n\"We know no fate, no blind, unavoidable destiny,\" said Siegwart, who\ncould not forgive the assessor his unchristian sentiment. \"But we\nknow a divine providence, an all-powerful will, without whose consent\nthe sparrow does not fall from the house-top. We believe in a Father\nin heaven who, counts the hairs of our heads, and whose counsels rule\nour destiny.\"\n\nHamm smiled.\n\n\"You believe then, Herr Siegwart, that divine providence, or rather\nGod, has aimed that blow at you?\"\n\n\"Yes; so I believe.\"\n\n\"Pardon me. I think you judge too hard of God. It is inconsistent\nwith his paternal goodness to afflict your beloved child with such\nmisfortune.\"\n\n\"Misfortune? It is to be doubted whether Eliza's death is a\nmisfortune. Perhaps her early departure from this world is precisely\nher happiness; and then we must reflect that God is master of life\nand death. It is not for us to call the Almighty to account, even if\nhis divine ordinances should be counter to our wishes.\"\n\n\"I respect your religious convictions, Herr Siegwart. Permit me,\nhowever, to observe that God is much too exalted to have an eye to\nall human trifles. He simply created the natural law; this he leaves\nto its course. All the elements must obey these laws. Every creature\nis subject to them; and when Eliza died, she died in consequence of\nthe course of these laws, but not through God's express will. Do you\nnot think that this view of our misfortunes reconciles us with the\nconceptions we have of God's goodness?\"\n\n\"No; I do not believe it, because such a view contradicts the\nChristian faith,\" replied Siegwart earnestly. \"What kind of a God,\nwhat kind of a Father would he be who would let every thing go as\nit might? He would be less a father than the poorest laborer who\nsupports his family in the sweat of his brow.\"\n\n\"And the whole army of misfortunes that daily overtake the human\nfamily? Does this army await the command of God?\"\n\n\"Do not forget, Herr Assessor, that the most of these misfortunes\nare deserved; brought on by our sins and passions. If excesses would\ncease, how many sources of nameless calamities would disappear! For\nthe rest, it is my firm conviction that nothing happens or can happen\nin the whole universe without the express will of God, or at least by\nhis permission.\"\n\nThe official shook his head.\n\n\"This question is evidently of great importance to every man,\" said\nFrank. \"Man is often not master of the course of his life; for it is\ndeveloped by a chain of circumstances, accidents, and providential\ninterferences that are not in man's power. I understand very well\nthat to be subject to blind chance, to an irrevocable fate, is\nsomething disquieting and discouraging to man. Equally consoling,\non the other hand, is the Christian faith in the loving care of an\nall-powerful Father, without whose permission a hair of our head\ncannot be touched. But things of such great injustice, of such\nirresistible power, and of such painful consequences happen on earth,\nthat I cannot reconcile them with divine love.\"\n\nWhile Frank spoke, Angela's eyes rested on him with the greatest\nattention; and when he concluded, she lowered her glance, and an\nearnest, thoughtful expression passed over her countenance.\n\n\"There are accidents that apparently are not the result of man's\nfault,\" said Siegwart. \"Torrents sweep over the land and destroy\nall the fruit of man's industry. Perhaps these torrents are only the\nscourges which the justice of God waves over a lawless land. But I\nadmit that among the victims there are many good men. Storms wreck\nships at sea, and many human lives are lost. Avalanches plunge from\nthe Alps and bury whole towns in their resistless fall. It is such\naccidents as these you have in view.\"\n\n\"Precisely--exactly so. How will you reconcile all these with the\nfatherly goodness of God?\" cried Hamm triumphantly.\n\nThe proprietor smiled.\n\n\"Permit me to ask a question, Herr Assessor. Why does the state make\nlaws?\"\n\n\"To preserve order.\"\n\n\"I anticipated this natural reply,\" continued the proprietor. \"If\nmalefactors were not punished, thieves and desperadoes, their bad\npractices being permitted, would have full play. Then all order would\nvanish; human society would dissolve into a chaos of disorder. God\nalso created laws which are necessary for the preservation of the\nnatural order. Storms destroy ships. If there were no storms, all\ngrowth in the vegetable kingdom would cease. Poisonous vapors would\nfill the air, and every living thing must miserably die. Avalanches\ndestroy villages. But if it did not snow, the torrents would no\nlonger run, the streams would dry up and the wells would disappear,\nand man and beast would die of thirst. You see, gentlemen, God cannot\nabolish that law of nature without endangering the whole creation.\"\n\n\"That explains some, but not all,\" replied Hamm. \"God is\nall-powerful; it would be but a trifle for him to protect us by his\nalmighty power from the destructive forces of the elements. Why does\nhe not do so?\"\n\n\"The reason is clear,\" answered Angela's father. \"God would have\nconstantly to work miracles. Miracles are exceptions to the workings\nof the laws of nature. Now, if God would constantly suppress the\npower, and unceasingly interrupt the laws of nature, then there would\nbe no longer a law of nature. The supernatural would have devoured\nthe natural. The Almighty would have destroyed the present creation.\"\n\n\"No matter,\" said the official. \"God might destroy the natural forces\nthat are inimical to man; for all that exists is only of value\nbecause of its use to man.\"\n\n\"Then nothing whatever would remain. All would be lost,\" said\nSiegwart. \"We speak and write much about earthly happiness that\nsoon passes away. We glorify the beauty of creation; but we forget\nthat God's curse rests on this earth, and it does not require great\npenetration to see this curse in all things.\"\n\n\"You believe, then, in the future destruction of the earth?\" asked\nHamm.\n\n\"Divine revelation teaches it,\" said Siegwart. \"The Holy Scriptures\nexpressly say there will be a new earth and a new heaven; and the\nLord himself assures us that the foundations of the earth will be\noverturned and the stars shall fall from the heavens.\"\n\n\"The stars fall from the heavens!\" cried Hamm, laughing. \"If you\ncould only hear what the astronomers say about that.\"\n\n\"What the astronomers say is of no consequence. They did not create\nthe heavenly bodies, and cannot give them boundaries; besides, we\nneed not take the falling of the stars literally. This expression may\nsignify their disappearance from the earth, perhaps the abolition\nof the laws by which they have heretofore been moved, and the\nreconstruction of those relations which existed between heaven and\nearth prior to the fall. God will then do what you now demand of him,\nHerr von Hamm,\" concluded Siegwart, smiling. \"He will destroy the\ninimical power of nature, so that the new earth will be free from\nthorns, tears, and lamentations.\"\n\nThus they continued to dispute, and the debate became so animated\nthat even Angela entered the list in favor of providence.\n\n\"I believe,\" said she with charming blushes, \"that the miseries of\nthis earthly life can only be explained and understood in view of\nman's eternal destiny. God spares the sinner through forbearance\nand mercy; he sends trials and misfortunes to the good for their\npurification. God demanded of Abraham the sacrifice of his only son;\nbut when Abraham showed obedience to the command, and consented to\nmake that boundless sacrifice, he was provided with another victim to\noffer sacrifice to God.\"\n\n\"Fr\u00e4ulein Angela,\" exclaimed Hamm enthusiastically, \"you have solved\nthe problem. Your comprehensive remark reconciles even the innocent\nsufferers with repulsive decrees. O Fr\u00e4ulein!\"--and the assessor fell\ninto a tone of reverie--\"were it permitted me to go through life by\nthe side of a partner who possesses your spirit and your conciliatory\nmildness!\"\n\nAngela looked down blushing. She was embarrassed, and dared not raise\nher eyes. Her first glance, after a few moments, was at Richard.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFrank wrote in his diary:\n\n     \"Even the preaching tone becomes her admirably. Morality and\n     religion flow from her lips as from a pure fountain that vivifies\n     her soul.\"\n\nAs yet he had not surrendered to Angela.\n\nFrank sprang from an obstinate Westphalian stock; and that the\nWestphalians have not exchanged their stiff necks for those of\nshepherds, is sufficiently proved by their stubborn fight with the\npowers who menaced their liberties. Had Frank been a good-natured\nSouth-German or even Municher, he would long since have bowed head\nand knees to the \"Angel of Salingen.\" But he now maintained the last\nposition of his antipathy to women against Angela's superior powers.\n\nHe visited the Siegwart family not twice, but thrice, even four times\na day. He appeared suddenly and unexpectedly before Angela like a spy\nwho wished to detect faults.\n\nJust as he was going over the court, on one occasion, a tall lad\ncame up to him. The boy came from the same fatal door through which\nMaster Falk had rushed out upon Richard with such bad intentions. The\nservant held his hat in his right hand, and with his left fumbled the\nbright buttons on his red vest.\n\n\"Herr Frank, excuse me; I have something to say to you. I have wanted\nto speak to you for the last three days, but could not because my\nmaster was always in the way. But now, as my master is in the fields,\nI can state my trouble, if you will allow me.\"\n\n\"What trouble have you?\"\n\n\"I am the Swiss through whose fault the steer came near doing you a\ngreat injury. It is inexplicable to me, even now, how the animal got\nloose. But Falk is very cunning. I cannot be too watchful of him.\nHis head is full of schemes; and before you can turn around, he has\nplayed one of his tricks. The chain has a clasp with a latch, and\nhow he broke it, he only knows.\"\n\n\"It is all right,\" replied Frank. \"I believe you are not to blame.\"\n\n\"I am not to blame about the chain. But I am for the door being\nopen, Miss Angela said; and she is perfectly right. Therefore, I beg\nyour pardon and promise you that nothing of the kind shall happen in\nfuture.\"\n\n\"The pardon is granted, on condition that you guard the steer better.\"\n\n\"Miss Angela said that too; and she required me to ask your pardon,\nwhich I have done.\"\n\nAngela stood in the garden, hidden behind the rose-bushes, and heard,\nsmiling, the conversation.\n\nAs Frank passed over the yard, she came from the garden carrying a\nbasketful of vegetables. At the same time a harvest-wagon, loaded\nwith rapes and drawn by four horses, came into the yard.\n\n\"Your industry extends to the garden also, Miss Angela,\" said Frank.\n\"Now I know no branch of housekeeping that you cannot take a part in.\"\n\n\"My work is, however, insignificant,\" she returned. \"In a large house\nthere is always a great deal to do, and every one must try to be\nuseful.\"\n\n\"Your garden deserves all praise,\" continued Richard, eyeing the\ncontents of the baskets. \"What magnificent peas and beans!\"\n\nFor the first time Frank observed in her face something like\nflattered vanity, and he almost rejoiced at this small shadow on\nthe celestial form before him. But the supposed shadow was quickly\nchanged into light before his eyes. \"Father brought these early\nbeans into the neighborhood; they are very tender and palatable.\nFather likes them, and I am glad to be able to make him a salad this\nevening. He will be astonished to see his young favorites of this\nyear, eight days earlier than formerly. There he comes; he must not\nsee them now.\" She covered them with some lettuce.\n\nAnd this was the shadow of flattered vanity! Childish joy, to be able\nto astonish her father with an agreeable dish.\n\nThe loaded wagon stopped in the yard; the horses snorted and pawed\nthe ground impatiently. The servants opened the barn-doors, and Frank\nsaw on all sides activity and haste to house the valuable crop.\n\nSiegwart shook hands with the visitor.\n\n\"The first blessing of the year,\" said the proprietor. \"The rapes\nhave turned out well. We had a fine blooming season, and the flies\ncould not do much damage.\"\n\n\"I have often observed those little flies in the rape-fields,\" said\nFrank. \"You can count millions of them; but I did not know that they\ninjured the crop.\"\n\nThey both went into the house, where a bottle of Munich beer awaited\nthem. Soon after, the servants went through the hall, and Frank heard\nAngela's voice from the kitchen, where she was busily occupied. The\nservants brought bread, plates, cheese, and jugs of light wine to the\nservants' room.\n\n\"Neighbor,\" said Siegwart, \"I invite you to-morrow afternoon at four\no'clock to a family entertainment--providing it will be agreeable to\nyou.\"\n\nThe invitation was accepted.\n\n\"You must not expect much from the entertainment. It will, at least,\nbe new to you.\"\n\nFrank was much interested in the character of this ultramontane\nentertainment. He thought of a May party, a coronation party; but\nrejected this idea, for Siegwart promised a family entertainment, and\nthis could not be a May party. He thought of all kinds of plays,\nand what part Angela would take in them. But the play also seemed\nimprobable, and at last the subject of the invitation remained an\ninteresting mystery to him, the solution of which he awaited with\nimpatience.\n\nAn hour before the appointed time Richard left Frankenh\u00f6he, after\nKlingenberg had excused him from the daily walk. He took a roundabout\nway along the edge of the forest; for he knew that the Siegwart\nfamily would be at divine service, and he did not wish to arrive\nat the house a moment before the time. Sunday stillness rested on\nall. The mountains rose up a deep blue; the vari-colored fields were\npartly yellow; the vineyards alone were of a deep green, and when the\nwind blew through them it wafted with it the pleasant odors of the\nvine-blossoms.\n\nMadame Siegwart was just returning home from Salingen between her two\nchildren. Henry, a youth of seventeen and the future proprietor of\nthe property, had the same manners as his father. He walked leisurely\non the road-side, examining the blooming wheat and ripening corn.\nWhen he discovered nests of vine weevils, he plucked them off and\ncrushed the eggs of the hated enemies of all wine-growers. Angela\nremained constantly at her mother's side, and as she accidentally\nraised her eyes to where Richard stood, he made a movement as though\nhe was caught disadvantageously.\n\nA short distance behind them came Siegwart, surrounded by some men.\nThey often stopped and talked in a lively manner. Frank thought that\nthese men were also invited, and hoped to become acquainted with\nthe _\u00e9lite_ of Salingen. He was, however, disappointed; for a short\ndistance from Siegwart's house the men turned back to Salingen. They\nhad only accompanied the proprietor part of the way. The servants of\nSiegwart also came hastening along the road, first the men-servants,\nand some distance behind them the maid-servants. Frank had observed\nthis separation before, and thought it must be in consequence of the\nstrict orders of the master. Frank considered this narrow-minded, and\nthought of finding fault with it, in true modern spirit. But then he\nconsidered the results of his observations, which had extended to the\nservants. He often admired the industry and regular conduct of these\npeople. He never heard any oath or rough expressions of passion;\nevery one knew his work, and performed it with care and attention.\nHe observed this regular order with admiration, particularly when he\nthought of the disobedience, dissatisfaction, and untrustworthiness\nof the generality of servants. Siegwart must possess a great secret\nto keep these people in agreement and order; therefore he rejected\nhis former opinion of narrow-mindedness, and believed the proprietor\nmust have good reason for this separation of the sexes.\n\nFrank remained for a time under the shadow of an oak, looked at\nhis watch, and finally descended the shortest way. He was expected\nby Siegwart, and immediately conducted to the large room. The\narrangement of the room showed at a glance its use. There was a\nsmall altar at one side, and religious pictures hung on the walls.\nThere was also a harmonium, and on the windows hung curtains on\nwhich were painted scenes from sacred history. In the middle of the\nroom there was a desk, on which lay a book. To the right of the desk\nsat the men-servants, to the left the maids, the Siegwart family in\nthe centre. A smile passed over Frank's countenance at the present\nreligious entertainment--for him, at least, a new sort of recreation.\nAt his entrance the whole assembly rose. He greeted Angela and her\nmother, pressed warmly the hand of Henry, and took the seat allotted\nto him.\n\nAngela ascended the pulpit, sat down and opened the book. She read\nthe life of the servant St. Zitta, whom the church numbers among\nthe saints. Angela read in a masterly manner. The narrative tone\nof her soft, melodious voice ran like a quickening stream through\nthe soul. Some passages she pronounced with plastic force, and\ninto the delivery of others she breathed warm life. All listened\nwith great attention. Zitta's childhood passed in quick review,\nthen her hard lot with a master difficult to please. The servants\nlistened with astonishment. They heard with pious attention of\nZitta's pure conduct, of her fidelity and humility, of her industry\nand self-denial. They all felt personally their own deficiency in\ncomparison with this shining model. When Angela closed the book,\nFrank saw that the servants were deeply impressed. Meditatively they\nleft the room, as though they had heard a striking sermon.\n\n\"Ah!\" thought Frank. \"Now I know one of the means by which Siegwart\ninfluences his people.\"\n\n\"Now comes the second part of the entertainment,\" said the\nproprietor, taking Richard's arm. \"We will now go into the garden.\"\n\nOn the way thither Frank saw under the lindens a long table set\nwith food and wine, and at it sat the servants. Richard heard their\nconversation in passing. They talked of St. Zitta and recounted the\nstriking facts of her life.\n\nNear the garden wall grew a vine-arbor, which caught the cool air\nas it passed and loaded it with pleasant odors. Thousands of the\nflowers of the blooming vine appeared between the indented leaves.\nEach of these diminutive flowers breathed forth a fragrance which for\nsweetness of odor could not be surpassed.\n\nA young brood of goldfinches, who had taken possession of the arbor,\nnow cleared off. They flew up on the dwarf trees, or hid among the\nroses, which of all colors and kinds grew in the garden. The hungry\nyoung ones cried incessantly, and tested severely the parental duty\nof support. But the old ones were not ashamed of this duty. Here\nand there they caught flies and other insects, and carried them to\nthe young ones, who stood with outstretched wings and flabby bills\nwide open. Then the old ones would fly away again, light on the\nbranches--mostly on bean-stalks--make quick dodges, wave their tails,\nsmack their tongues, and seize as quick as lightning a harmless\npassing fly. The sparrows did not behave so harmlessly. They pecked\nat the bright shining cherries that hung in full clusters on the\nswaying branches. Others of this sharp-billed gentry hopped about on\nthe strawberry-beds, and disfigured the large berries as they tore\noff great pieces of the soft meat. One of them had even the boldness\nto hop about on the decorated table that stood at the upper end of\nthe arbor, to strike his sharp bill into the buttered bread, make an\nexamination of the preserves, ogle the slices of ham, and admire the\nblack bottles that stood on the ground. He also took to flight as the\ncompany arrived. The vine-blossoms seemed to send forth a sweeter\nfragrance as Angela, bright and beaming, approached, leaning on the\narm of her mother.\n\n\"Do you have this edifying reading every Sunday?\" asked Richard.\n\n\"Regularly,\" answered the proprietor. \"It is an old custom of our\nfamily, and I find it has such good results that I will not have it\nabolished. The servants are not obliged to be present. They are free\nafter vespers, each one to employ himself as best suits him. But it\nseldom happens that a servant or a maid is absent. They like to hear\nthe legends, and you may have remarked that they listen with great\nattention to the reading.\"\n\n\"I have observed it,\" said Frank. \"Miss Angela is also such an\nexcellent reader that only deaf people would not attend.\"\n\nShe smiled and blushed a little at this praise.\n\n\"I consider it a strict obligation of employers to have a supervision\nover the conduct of the servants,\" said Madame Siegwart. \"Many,\nperhaps most, servants are treated like the slaves in old heathen\ntimes. They work for their masters, are paid for it, and there the\nrelation between master and servant ends. This is why they neglect\ndivine service on Sundays and feast-days; their moral wants are not\nsatisfied, their natural inclinations are not purified by restraints\nof a higher order. The servants sit in the taverns, where they\nsquander their wages, and the maids rove about and gossip. This is\na great injustice to the servants, and full of bad consequences. It\ncannot be questioned that masters should shield their servants from\nerror and keep them under moral discipline.\"\n\n\"Precisely my opinion,\" returned Frank. \"If servants are frequently\nspoiled and general complaint is made of it, the masters are greatly\nin fault. I have long since admired the conduct of your servants. I\nlooked upon Herr Siegwart as a kind of sorcerer, who conjured every\nthing under his charge according to his will. Now a part of the\nsorcery is clear to me.\"\n\n\"Well, you were favorable in your judgment,\" said the proprietor,\nlaughing. \"So you considered me a magician; others consider me an\nultramontanist, and that is something still worse.\"\n\nRichard smiled and blushed slightly.\n\n\"You no doubt have heard this honorable title applied to me, Herr\nFrank?\"\n\n\"Yes, I have heard of it.\"\n\n\"And I scarcely deceive myself in supposing,\" continued Siegwart\ngood-humoredly, \"that your father has spoken to you of his neighbor,\nthe ultramontane.\"\n\n\"You do not deceive yourself at all,\" answered Frank. \"I consider it\na great honor to have become better acquainted with the ultramontane.\"\n\n\"I have often wished to speak to you,\" continued the proprietor, \"of\nthe reason which called forth your father's displeasure with me. I\nsuppose, however, that you have heard it.\"\n\n\"My father never spoke of it, and I am eager to know the unfortunate\ncause.\"\n\n\"It is as follows. About ten years ago your father, with some other\ngentlemen, wished to establish a great factory in this neighborhood.\nThe land on which it was to stand is a marsh lying near a pond, the\nwater of which was to be made of use to the factory. I tried with all\nmy power to prevent this design, and even for social and religious\nreasons. Our neighborhood needed no factory. There are but few very\npoor people, and these support themselves sufficiently well among\nthe farmers. Experience proves that factories have a bad effect on\nthe people in their neighborhood. Our people are firm believers.\nThe peasants keep conscientiously the Sundays and festivals. In all\ntheir cares for the earthly they do not forget the eternal life.\nThis religious sentiment spreads happiness and peace over our quiet\nneighborhood. The factory, which knows no Sunday, and the operatives,\nwho are sometimes very bad men, would have brought a harsh\ndiscordance into the quiet harmony of the neighborhood. I considered\nthese and other injurious influences, and offered a higher price for\nthe swamp than your father and his friends. As there was no other\nconvenient place about, the enterprise had to be given up. Since that\ntime your father is offended with me because I made his favorite\nproject impossible. This is the way it stands. That it is painful to\nme, I need not assure you. But according to my principles and views I\ncould not do otherwise. Now judge how far I am to be condemned.\"\n\n\"I speak freely,\" said Frank. \"You have acted from principles that\none must respect, and which my father would have respected if he had\nknown them.\"\n\nThe proprietor could have observed that he had, in a long letter,\njustified himself to Herr Frank. But he suppressed the observation,\nas he felt it would be painful to his son.\n\n\"Father,\" said Henry, \"hunger and thirst are appeased. Can I ride out\nfor an hour?\"\n\n\"Yes, my son; but not longer. Be back by supper-time.\"\n\nThe young man promised, and, after a friendly bow to Frank, hastened\nfrom the garden. The little circle continued some time in friendly\nchat. The servants under the lindens became noisy and sang merry\nsongs. The maids sat around the tea-table in the kitchen and praised\nSt. Zitta.\n\nThe cook appeared in the arbor and announced that Herr von Hamm was\nin the house, and wished to speak on important business to Herr and\nMadame Siegwart.\n\n\"What can he want?\" said the proprietor in surprise. \"Excuse me,\nHerr Frank; the business will soon be over. I beg you to remain till\nwe return. Angela, prevent him from going.\"\n\nAngela, smiling, looked after her retiring parents and then at\nRichard.\n\n\"I must keep you, Herr Frank. How shall I begin?\"\n\n\"That is very easy, Fr\u00e4ulein. Your presence is sufficient to realize\nyour father's wish. A weak child of human nature cannot resist one\nwho can conquer steers.\"\n\n\"Now you make a steer-catcher of me. Such a thing never happened in\nSpain; for there the steers are not so cultivated and docile as they\nare with us.\"\n\nShe took out her knitting.\n\n\"This is Sunday, Miss Angela!\"\n\n\"Do you consider knitting unlawful after one has fulfilled one's\nreligious duties?\"\n\n\"The case is not clear to me,\" said Frank, smiling secretly at\nthe earnestness of the questioner. \"My casuistic knowledge is not\nsufficient to solve such a question reasonably.\"\n\n\"The church only forbids servile work,\" said she. \"I consider\nknitting and sewing as something better than doing nothing.\"\n\n\"I am rejoiced that you are not narrow-minded, Fr\u00e4ulein. But this\nlittle stocking does not fit your feet?\"\n\n\"It is for little bare feet in Salingen,\" she replied, laying the\nfinished stocking on the table and stroking it with both hands as a\nwork of love.\n\n\"I have heard of your beneficence,\" said Frank. \"You knit, sew, and\ncook for the poor people. You are a refuge for all the needy and\ndistressed. How good in you!\"\n\n\"You exaggerate, Herr Frank. I do a little sometimes, but not more\nthan I can do with the housework, which is scarcely worth mentioning.\nI make no sacrifice in doing it; on the contrary, the poor give me\nmore than I give them; for giving is to every one more pleasant than\nreceiving.\"\n\n\"To every one, Fr\u00e4ulein?\"\n\n\"To every one who can give without denying herself.\"\n\n\"But you are accustomed also to visit the sick, and the hovels of\npoverty are certainly not attractive.\"\n\n\"Indeed, Herr Frank, very attractive,\" she answered quickly. \"The\nthanks of the poor sick are so affecting and elevating that one is\npaid a thousand times for a little trouble.\"\n\nFrank let the subject drop. Angela did not give charities from pride\nor the gratification of vanity, as he had been prepared to assume,\nbut from natural goodness and inclination of the heart. He looked at\nthe beautiful girl who sat before him industriously sewing, and was\nalmost angry at his failure to detect a fault in her pure nature.\n\n\"Do you always adorn the statue of the Virgin on the mountain?\" said\nhe after a pause.\n\n\"No; not now. The month of our dear Lady is over. I always think with\npleasure of the happy hours when in the convent we adorned her altar\nwith beautiful flowers.\"\n\n\"You must have a great reverence for Mary, or you would not ascend\nthe mountain daily.\"\n\n\"I admire the exalted virtues of Mary, and think with sorrow of her\npainful life on earth; and then, a weak creature needs much her\npowerful protection.\"\n\n\"Do you expect, Miss Angela, by such attention as you show the statue\nto obtain protection of the saint?\"\n\n\"No, I do not believe that. The adorning of the pictures of saints\nwould be idle trifling if the heart wandered far from the spirit of\nthe saints. Our church teaches, as you know, that the real, true\nveneration of the saints consists in imitating their virtues.\"\n\nFrank sat reflecting. The examination and probation were thoroughly\ndisgusting to him. Siegwart appeared in the garden, and came with\nquick steps to the arbor. His countenance was agitated and his eyes\nglowed with indignation. Without speaking a word, he drank off a\nglass of wine. Frank saw how he endeavored not to exhibit his anger.\n\n\"Has Herr von Hamm departed?\" asked Richard.\n\n\"Yes, he is off again,\" said the proprietor. \"Angela, your mother has\nsomething to say to you.\"\n\n\"Now guess what the assessor wanted?\" said Siegwart, after his\ndaughter had left the arbor.\n\n\"Perhaps he wanted the Peter-pence collection,\" said Frank, smiling.\n\n\"No. Herr von Hamm wanted nothing more or less than to marry my\ndaughter!\"\n\nFrank was astonished. Although he long since saw through Hamm's\ndesigns, he did not expect so sudden and hasty a step.\n\n\"And in what manner did he demand her?\"\n\n\"It is revolting,\" said the proprietor, much offended. \"Herr von Hamm\ngraciously condescends to us peasants. He showed that it would be\na great good fortune for us to give our daughter to the noble, the\nofficial with brilliant prospects.\"\n\n\"Herr von Hamm does not think little of himself,\" said Richard drily.\n\n\"How did the man ever come to ask my daughter? He and Angela! What\nopposites!\"\n\n\"Which, of course, you made clear to him.\"\n\n\"I reminded the gentleman that identity of moral and religious\nprinciples alone could render matrimonial happiness possible. I\nreminded him that Angela was an ultramontane, whose opinions would\ndaily annoy him, while his modern opinions must deeply offend Angela.\nThis I set before him briefly. Then I told him frankly and freely\nthat I did not wish to make either him or Angela unhappy, and at this\nhe went away angrily.\"\n\n\"You have done your duty,\" said Frank. \"I am also of opinion that\nsimilar convictions in the great principles of life alone insure the\nhappiness of married life.\"\n\nWhen Richard came home, he wrote in his diary:\n\n     \"June 4.--Unconditional surrender. What I supposed only to exist\n     in the ideal world is realized in the daughter of an ultramontane.\n     Angela, compared to our crinolines, our flirts, our insipid\n     coquettes--how brilliant the light, how deep the shadow!\n\n     \"My visits to that family have no longer a purpose. I feel they\n     must be discontinued for the sake of my peace. I dare not dream of\n     a happiness of which I am unworthy. But my future life will feel\n     painfully the want of a happiness the possibility of which I did\n     not dream. This is a punishment for presuming to penetrate the\n     pure, glorious character of the Angel of Salingen.\"\n\nHe buried his face in his hands and leaned on the table. He remained\nthus a long time; when he raised his head, his face was pale, and his\neyes were moist with tears.\n\n    TO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\n\n\nDR. HARWOOD'S PRICE LECTURE.\n\n\nA certain Mr. Price, of Boston, left a sum of money for a course\nof annual lectures, one of which is to be against \"Romanism,\" and\nDr. Harwood, the rector of Trinity church, New-Haven, having been\nselected as the lecturer for the current year, has favored us with\nthe publication of his lecture on \"Romanism,\" in the pages of the\n_New-Englander_, as well as in the form of a separate pamphlet. The\ndignified place which is held by the author of this lecture, as well\nas his personal character and influence, give a considerable weight\nto whatever he may publicly say on such a topic, in addition to the\nintrinsic claim it may have on the attention of both his partisans\nand opponents. On this account, and moreover on account of the\ntangible, well-exposed issue which distinguishes the production of\nthe reverend doctor from most of the _brochures_ of his polemical\nassociates, we have thought it worth while to devote a little time to\nthe discussion of its contents.\n\nDr. Harwood does not attempt a formal argument against the claims of\nthe Roman Church to supremacy over all Christendom. He is addressing\nan audience with whom, as with himself, it is a foregone conclusion\nthat these claims are baseless, and Romanism a fearful, dangerous\nsuperstition. There is a tone of dislike and fear running through\nthe lecture with which the audience is expected to sympathize fully,\nas when something is spoken of whose very mention is sufficient\nto awaken the aversion of all the moral sensibilities without any\nneed of showing reasons. Just as the mere mention of the words\npolytheism, Mohammedanism, Mormonism, call up those sentiments of the\nfalsehood and evil of the things they represent, which are interwoven\nwith the intellectual and moral constitution inherited from our\nancestors, nurtured by education, and governing our judgments like\na second nature, so the mere pronunciation of the terms Rome, pope,\nsacrifice of the mass, with their derivatives and the other phrases\nassociated with them, are quite sufficient to carry away an average\nNew-England audience in a tide of sympathy with any anti-Roman\norator. It was not necessary, therefore, for Dr. Harwood to argue\nwith an audience already convinced, in proof of the position that\nthe Roman Church must be resisted and opposed. The question to be\nconsidered was how best to do it? What are the points to be attacked?\nis one division of the question; by what road, with what weapons\nare these points to be attacked? is the other. With a singular and\nvery honorable manliness and directness, the lecturer puts aside\nall secondary issues and places himself openly in front of the\nfundamental dogmatic basis of the Roman Church, with the avowal that\nit is necessary to the victory of his cause to attack and subvert\nthis central stronghold. He seeks to ascertain, like a topographical\nengineer who is laying out positions for a bombardment, the precise\nsituation and extent of this central work, and the exact spot on\nwhich the heavy guns which are to play upon it must be planted. It\nremains yet to be seen whether his report will be accepted by the\nleaders of his side, and an attempt made to carry out the bold,\nperhaps somewhat hazardous, strategy which he recommends.\n\nAside from all preliminaries and accompaniments which serve to\ngive rhetorical finish and effect to the lecture as a popular\noration, its gist and pith consist in the statement that the two\ndogmas of the sacrifice of the mass and the papal supremacy form the\nconstitutive principle of the Roman Church, which the masters of\nheavy polemics are recommended to step up and overthrow. We have no\nobjection to this issue, and are perfectly willing to fight the whole\ncampaign through on that line. If the doctor intends, however, to\ndefine precisely and scientifically that these two dogmas together\nconstitute the _differentia_ of the doctrine of the Roman Church,\nhis definition is open to criticism. The dogma of the sacrifice of\nthe mass is no part of the _differentia_ which distinguishes the\nRoman Church from the Eastern Christians, or from a respectable\nparty in the author's own communion. The true _differentia_ marking\nthe Catholic Church in the communion and under the headship of the\nBishop of Rome, as a sole and singular organization without its like\namong all the corporate religious societies of the world, is what\nis called in theological language the _juge magisterium ecclesi\u00e6_,\nthe living, perpetual, infallible, supreme authority in spirituals\nexercised in constant and uninterrupted continuity, and keeping\nthe body of the church in indefectible unity. This magistracy is\nfocussed and capitalized in the headship of the primatial see of the\nworld, the Roman Church, and the supremacy of its bishop. A Greek\nor an Anglo-Catholic may hold theoretically that this _magisterium_\nbelongs rightfully to the church, and could be exercised in case\nthe church were assembled in what each of them respectively would\nacknowledge to be an oecumenical council. Neither of them, however,\ncan acknowledge the continuous and present exercise of this plenary\nauthority, because both are obliged to maintain that the church is\nin a disunited, disorganized state. It is precisely because both\nrefuse to acknowledge the papal supremacy, that they deny the church\nin communion with Rome to be the complete church in organized unity\nand its general councils to be oecumenical. It is precisely this\nsupremacy which makes this church an organized unit, and places it\nin the condition to act with full and complete power. The supremacy\nof the pope may, therefore, stand for the _differentia_, and we are\nwilling to accept it as such, with the explanation above given,\nthat it includes also the unbroken unity, together with the plenary\njudicial and legislative power of the Catholic episcopate as a\nwhole, including both the pope as supreme head, and the bishops as\n_conjudices cum papa_, or fellow-judges and rulers, with and under\nthe pope, of the universal church.\n\nThis simplifies the issue, and reduces the controversy, as between\nthe Roman Church on one side, and all professed Christians refusing\nto acknowledge her supremacy as \"mother and mistress of churches\" on\nthe other, to one question only. A victory on this one question is\nfor us complete and decisive, for it enables us to sweep the whole\nbattle-field. If the supremacy we claim for the pope is established,\nthe obligatory force of all the doctrines and laws proclaimed by\nhim as head of the universal church is established also, without\nneed of further argument, or possibility of appeal to any other\ntribunal on the earth or in heaven. If our antagonists could vanquish\nus, our cause would be a lost one; we should be brought down to a\ncommon level with the Greeks as a mere branch of the church, and the\nway would be open for those negotiations in view of the \"reunion\nof Christendom\" which to certain persons seem so desirable. There\nwould still remain, however, a vast field of controversy before one\nholding what we understand to be Dr. Harwood's views could make\nhis position good. The entire hierarchical system of the Eastern\nchurches, maintained also in theory by such a powerful party in the\ndoctor's own church, would remain to be refuted and overthrown.\nSuppose this to be done, and we will readily concede that the system\nof what is called the broad-church school, represented by Stanley,\nRobertson, the author of the book called _Liber Librorum_; to whom we\nthink might be added the New-Haven divines, and the higher school of\nUnitarians, such as Dr. Bellows, Dr. Osgood, Mr. Ellis, Mr. Alger,\nand others; is the most rational and sensible of all the _soi-disant_\nChristian systems which would be left on the ground. Perhaps Dr.\nHarwood, looking on Greek Christianity and the amateur catholicity of\nhis own brethren as without real significance, intended to find some\ndoctrine which might stand for the entire hierarchical, sacramental\nsystem, and which, joined with the doctrine of papal supremacy,\nmight with that make up the _differentia_ of the Roman Church in\nrespect to Protestantism. In this point of view, he has well chosen\nthe doctrine of the sacrifice of the mass. Our preceding strictures\nare merely critical, and we are willing to meet Dr. Harwood on the\nprecise ground he has chosen for himself, the wager of battle being\nthis: that our Lord Jesus Christ established the papal supremacy\nand the sacrifice of the mass, as essential parts of his religion.\nSince the doctor has only appeared, however, in the character of a\nscout, to clear the way for more heavily-armed combatants, and merely\nskirmishes a little in advance, we will skirmish in the same manner,\nwithout engaging more deeply in the controversy than simply to repel\nhis attacks. If the champions he has called on come up, which\nwe very much doubt, we hope they will go to work in earnest, and\nundertake to meet and answer in detail all the proofs and arguments\nadduced by our able writers, at least in English, in support of the\npapal supremacy and the eucharistic sacrifice. Unless they do this,\nthey will not be entitled to any notice at our hands.\n\nSo far as Dr. Harwood merely describes the doctrine we hold\nrespecting the papal supremacy, he is almost entirely correct, and\nso eloquent that the effect produced in his mind by its grandeur,\nin spite of his inward reluctance, is visible. Of argument against\nit there is hardly the semblance, a point we note not to the\nauthor's disadvantage, but merely as a reason for not arguing in its\nfavor. One passing objection he does throw, as he goes by, at the\ntitle supreme pontiff or _pontifex maximus_. This word appears to\nalarm him, and no doubt alarmed all the excellent ladies and other\nworthy persons in his audience, who are easily alarmed by words.\n\"He is regarded as the _pontifex maximus_ of the whole church of\nChrist. _Pontifex maximus!_ The very word brings up memories of the\nimperial city before it became Christian. Julius C\u00e6sar was _pontifex\nmaximus_--the office was held by all the C\u00e6sars--it was held while\nthe disciples of Jesus Christ, worshipping their Lord in the\ncatacombs, or dying in the amphitheatre 'to make a Roman holiday,'\nassociated the office with all cruelty and impiety.\" If this passage\nis any thing more than a rhetorical flourish, it means that the name\nand office of supreme pontiff are bad, unchristian things, because\nthe heathen had them. We ought, then, to carry this principle out\nto its fullest extent. The heathen had an order of men specially\ndevoted to religion, public prayers, holy days, temples, religious\nhymns, etc., therefore we should have none of these. The surplice\nwhich Dr. Harwood wears is derived through the Jews, from the ancient\nEgyptian priests; his prayer-book is full of observances derived from\nthe Roman Church. He preaches sermons and observes a fast of forty\ndays, like the Mohammedans, all of which is very wrong, and reminds\nus painfully of Pharaoh, and the fires of Smithfield, and the cruel\npersecutions of the Turks against the Christians. The Jews had a\nhigh priest appointed by Almighty God. Our Lord is a high-priest,\n_pontifex maximus_. Heathen perversions or travesties of divine\nthings make no argument against the things themselves. Neither is\nthere any reason why names, forms, observances, used by heathen, if\nthey are good and suitable, should not be adopted by Christians, just\nas we appropriate heathen architecture, take possession of heathen\ntemples, and employ heathen philosophy in the service of religion.\nWe have no doubt that Moses imitated the civil and religious customs\nof the Egyptians to a very great extent in the prescriptions of his\nlaw. Parallelisms between the Catholic religion and various false\nreligions may easily enough be pointed out. We laugh at such an\nargument as not worthy of being seriously refuted. The greater the\nnumber of analogies that can be pointed out, the stronger is the\nproof that the principles of our religion are derived from the origin\nof the race, universal, and in accordance with human nature. Rome\nwas not all bad before it was converted. Whatever in it was good did\nnot need to be abolished, but only sanctified. Our Lord drove out\nJupiter, the angels and saints supplanted the imaginary divinities of\nOlympus, the successor of Peter took the place of the successor of\nC\u00e6sar. The glorious temples of the gods became Christian churches,\nand Roman polity became an organizing power over all Christendom. In\nthis was only fulfilled the prophecy of St. Paul, \"_The God of peace\nshall bruise Satan under your feet shortly_.\"[60] This kind of play\nupon words with _pontifex maximus_ will, therefore, help Dr. Harwood\nvery little unless he can disprove the existence of the thing they\nrepresent--a human priesthood with a supreme head over it, possessing\npower delegated by Jesus Christ.\n\nThe lecturer is not precisely accurate in what he says of the\ndefinition of the immaculate conception. The judgment of the Catholic\nbishops and doctors had been for ages manifested, and was taken\nanew in the most formal manner, before Pius IX. proclaimed his\ndefinition. Those few persons among the prelates and theologians\nwho were opposed to the definition, did not merely submit outwardly\nby keeping silence, but inwardly by an interior submission of the\nmind, precisely as a good Christian would have submitted to St.\nPeter himself in a similar case. If Dr. Harwood admits the doctrinal\ninfallibility of the New Testament, he can easily understand that,\nif the meaning of any passage in it about which he had previously\ndoubted should be made clear to him, he would have to give his\ninterior assent to it, even though he must change an opinion he had\nheld all his life long. Precisely so with us. An infallible judgment\nmakes known to us with the certainty of faith the true sense of the\ndivine revelation, which we receive accordingly as equally certain\nand obligatory on the conscience with every other revealed truth.\nWhoever does not give this inward assent becomes a heretic, and\ntherefore Pius IX., in his Bull _Ineffabilis_, pronounces that every\none who does not believe the immaculate conception as a revealed\ntruth has suffered shipwreck of the faith.\n\nIn his account of the Catholic doctrine of the sacrifice of the mass\nthe author of the lecture is less successful, and misrepresents\nit seriously; not intentionally, or through wilful carelessness,\nbut through a misunderstanding of Catholic phraseology. Because\nthe church calls it the _same sacrifice_ with the sacrifice of the\ncross, he appears to think that our Lord is believed to have redeemed\nthe world by the oblation of himself at the institution of the\neucharist, and to be continually repeating this act of redemption in\nthe sacrifice offered daily on our altars. Dr. Seabury, the first\nProtestant bishop of Connecticut, did actually teach that our Lord\noffered himself in the eucharist as a sacrifice, and not on the\ncross. This strange notion of the founder of his own diocese, Dr.\nHarwood incorrectly ascribes to the Catholic Church.\n\n     \"The _sacrifice_ was made or instituted in the night in which\n     he was betrayed; and, in the system of Romanism, this sacrifice\n     is every thing. I do not see that the cross is necessary; for\n     the stress falls upon the sacrifice of the altar, and the\n     worshipper is directed to that sacrifice as vested with objective\n     propitiatory virtue.\"\n\nThe church teaches that our Lord redeemed the world by his death\nand the shedding of his blood upon the cross. He did not redeem it\nby the oblation of himself in the Last Supper, nor does he do so by\nthe sacrifice of the altar; the sacrifice of redemption having been\noffered once for all upon the cross, and not needing to be repeated.\nThe church does not mean by \"same sacrifice\" that the oblation in\nthe eucharist is a similar act of redemption, propitiatory in the\ndivided sense, or merely as containing the body and blood of Christ,\nand presenting them before God. The sacrifice is the same, because\nthe victim is the same, the priest is the same, and all the value or\nmerit contained and applied in the sacrifice of the altar is derived\nfrom the bloody sacrifice of the cross. There is thus a moral unity\nbinding together the innumerable acts of consecration and oblation\nwhich take place on the Christian altars with each other and with\nthe sacrifice of the cross, in one whole, just as the innumerable\nacts of obedience performed by our Lord during his earthly life make\none integral act of obedience with the final and consummating act of\nhis oblation on Mount Calvary. No doubt the intrinsic excellence of\nthe sacrifice of the eucharist is infinite, and therefore sufficient\nfor the redemption of this world or a thousand others, if there\nwere others needing redemption. The merit of the circumcision, the\nfasting, the prayer, the preaching, the poverty and humiliation, the\nlabors and tears of our Blessed Lord was infinite, and fully adequate\nto the redemption of mankind, without the sacrifice of the cross.\nEvery act of love to God the Father proceeding from the sacred heart\nof Jesus Christ in heaven is simply infinite in its intrinsic value.\nYet no Catholic theologian maintains that the meritorious acts of\nour Lord performed while he was a wayfarer on the earth redeemed\nmankind apart from his death, or that he has merited any additional\ngrace for men since his sacrifice was completed. The sacrifice which\nour Lord offered in the Last Supper did not, therefore, constitute\nthat act of expiation to which, in the divine decree, the remission\nof original and actual sin was annexed; and much less is there any\nsuch distinct, expiatory merit in the sacrifice which he perpetually\nmakes of himself in the eucharist, since his meritorious work has\nbeen consummated. He offered himself once for all as a bloody\nsacrifice upon the cross, meriting thereby an eternal redemption. At\nthe Last Supper he offered up himself to the Father as the Lamb who\nwas to be slain the next day, presenting by anticipation the merit\nwhich he would gain by his cruel and ignominious death, as an act\nof adoration, thanksgiving, expiation, and impetration in behalf of\nall those who were included either generally or specially in his\nintention. Doubtless, he frequently in prayer had presented these\nsame merits to his Father; and from the time of Adam's sin these\nsame merits had constituted the only ground on which pardon or grace\nhad been conferred, thus verifying the appellation applied to our\nLord in the Scripture of \"the Lamb slain from the foundation of the\nworld.\" In the sacrifice now offered by the priests of the new law,\nChrist is presented before the Eternal Father as the Lamb who has\nbeen slain. And although, as a sacrifice, the eucharist is equally an\noblation of the body and blood of the Lamb of God with the sacrifice\nof the cross, differing only in the manner of offering, yet as this\nmanner of offering upon the cross by pain, blood-shedding, and death\nconstituted the precise act which expiated sin and redeemed the\nworld, the sacrificial nature of the eucharistic action which it has\nin common with the crucifixion does not derogate from the exclusive\nattribute belonging to the latter as the redemptive expiation or\nthe sacrifice of ransom, blotting out the curse of the fall, and\nreopening the gates of heaven to our lost race. A sacrifice of\nexpiation including all ages, all men, and all sins having been\nonce offered, there is no need and no place for another, which is\nprecisely what St. Paul proves in the Epistle to the Hebrews. Dr.\nHarwood fancies that we have a dread of that epistle. It is not long\nsince we went through that epistle carefully with a theological class\nwithout being aware of any sentiments of repugnance to its doctrine\narising in our minds. It is very true that the unlearned and unstable\nmay wrest this, as they do the other epistles of St. Paul and the\nScriptures generally, to a sense in contradiction to the Catholic\nfaith. To one, however, who is sufficiently learned to understand\nthe real scope and intent of the apostle, or sufficiently docile\nto receive the instruction of competent interpreters, it presents\nno difficulty. St. Paul is not speaking of the eucharist or of the\nChristian priesthood at all, but is confronting the priesthood\nand sacrifices of Jesus Christ in the work of redemption with the\npriesthood and sacrifices of the old law, as these were understood by\nunbelieving or heterodox Jews. The point to be established was, that\nJesus Christ would never give up his priesthood to a successor, or\noffer up another sacrifice similar to the one offered on the cross.\nIt needs no reasoning to show that Catholic priests do not pretend\nto be in the place of Jesus Christ, but simply his instruments. The\nperpetuity of his priesthood is therefore not in the slightest degree\nincompatible with ours, which is in a different line, but rather\nrequires it. Neither is it necessary to prove that we do not pretend\nto offer a sacrifice which expiates sins or atones for persons not\nincluded in the sacrifice of the cross. The doctor misunderstands\nthe phrase \"propitiatory sacrifice.\" The church does not mean that\na new sacrifice is offered for persons whose sins were unatoned for\non the cross, or who have fallen a second time under the curse and\nneed a new ransom. The word \"propitiatory\" merely denotes that in\nthe sacrifice of the altar an application is made of the merits of\nChrist's death to individuals for the remission of temporal penalties\ndue to the justice of God. The redemption was made on the cross; the\napplication of the grace of remission is made in the sacrament of\npenance; the remission of temporal penalties, both for the living\nand the dead, is obtained through the sacrifice of the altar. All\nthe efficacy of the divine eucharist, whether as a sacrifice or a\nsacrament, is derived from the merits of Jesus Christ, which were\nconsummated in his death. It is, therefore, by the application of\nthe merit of the sacrifice of the cross that the sacrifice of the\nmass becomes efficacious to salvation. The Lamb of God is presented\nbefore the Father with the merit acquired by his death upon Mount\nCalvary, and this presentation is an act of supreme adoration, of\nthanksgiving, of impetration, and of satisfaction for the debt due to\nthe divine justice, made in a sensible, visible manner, with mystic\nrites and ceremonies; which is enough to constitute a sacrifice in\nthe strict and proper sense, whatever difference of opinion there may\nbe concerning the essence of the sacrificial act in the eucharist.\nAlthough, therefore, there are many priests and many sacrifices\nnumerically, it is one act performed by one person which is exhibited\nand applied in all, so that there is truly but one sacrifice and\none priest. The reverend doctor might have seen this for himself\nif he had reflected more carefully on the words of the Council of\nTrent which he has himself quoted, _Cujus quidem oblationis cruent\u00e6,\ninquam, fructus per hanc uberrime percipiuntur_--\"The fruits of which\nbloody oblation, indeed, are by this most abundantly partaken of.\"\n\nThe words of the lecturer following his exposition of the doctrine\nare not at first sight intelligible. \"We may be pardoned, then, if we\nask what then is our Lord to us personally?\" It is very difficult to\nsee how the hidden presence of our Lord under the sacramental veils\nis any obstruction to our personal relation to him as our Saviour.\nHow does this presence derogate from the fact that he died for each\nof us on the cross, and is ever living in heaven to make intercession\nfor us? Our adoration of his sacred body and precious blood under\nthe forms of bread and wine does not hinder our meditating upon\nhis passion and death upon the cross, or raising our mental eye to\nhis glorious form at the right hand of God. The author appears to\nimagine that his sacramental presence must destroy his natural mode\nof existence and reduce him to a passive, helpless state of being in\nthe host. But this is only because he fails to conceive the Catholic\ndoctrine that our Lord is present both in heaven and also in the\nhost at the same time, though in two different modes. He says, \"He\nis present with us, we adore that presence, but he is passive and\nlifeless in the hands of a priesthood. No sign or word comes from the\npix. When the church is in travail over a new doctrine, recluse and\nlearned men busy themselves in vast libraries in order to catch the\n_consensus_ of Catholic tradition. A believer may be excused, if,\nlike Mary, he cries out, 'They have taken away the Lord, and I know\nnot where they have laid him!'\" Strange language this from a member\nof the communion of Andrewes, Hooker, Taylor, Pusey, and Hobart! Has\nthe author ever read their glowing words respecting this same theme?\nIs he familiar with the doctrinal books of his own church? Taken away\nthe Lord, when he remains perpetually in our tabernacles awaiting\nthe visits of those true believers who pass hours in sweet communion\nat the foot of the altar, conversing with him as with the friend and\nspouse of their souls? When he is given to them in communion and his\nsacred body rests in their bosoms, kindling there the flames of a\nsacred love often equal to that which glows in the seraphim? Let the\nreverend doctor read the lives of the saints, and ask them if the\nLord is silent when they converse with him in the blessed sacrament,\nor let him even ask the ordinary pious Catholic that question. He\ndoes not indeed break the silence of his hidden state by words\naudible to the bodily ear, but he speaks far more efficaciously to\nthe heart in a way which is unintelligible to cold rationalism, but\nperfectly well known to faith inflamed by love. The divine eucharist\nwas not instituted as a medium for communicating light to the church\nconcerning revealed truths. Christ teaches and rules the church by\nthe Holy Spirit, and not by his human voice. It is his will that\nstudy, meditation, and counsel should be the means by which the\nprelates and doctors of the church obtain the light and assistance of\nthis divine Spirit. Dr. Harwood is not pleased with this arrangement;\nbut as the Lord appears to have determined definitely that it must be\nso, we are afraid that his suggestions will not be attended to. At\nall events, he may console himself with the reflection that he has\ndiscovered an entirely new objection to the Catholic doctrine.\n\nWe have unwittingly passed over one other objection, namely, that the\ndoctrine of the eucharistic sacrifice destroys the idea of communion.\nThe eucharist does not cease to be a sacrament by being a sacrifice.\nIf there is communion among Episcopalians through a reception of\nbread and wine, it would seem that there might be also communion\namong Catholics in receiving the true body and blood of Christ. If\nthe Protestant Episcopal liturgy is a common prayer, certainly the\nCatholic liturgy is equally one, though it is also a sacrifice.\nMoreover, there is, in the strictest sense, communion in the very\nact of offering the sacrifice. The priest, though consecrated by a\nheavenly grace and commissioned by the divine authority of our Lord,\nis consecrated to minister for the people, in their name and as their\nrepresentative. He offers up the sacrifice for the people, and they\noffer sacrifice to God through him, which is signified in the mass by\nthe action of the deacon, who, as the representative of the laity,\nholds the pixis in his hand at the offertory, and placing his right\nhand on the foot of the chalice, recites with the priest the prayer,\n_Offerimus tibi, Domine, calicem_, etc. We will not attempt to prove\nthe truth of the Catholic doctrine of the mass, since the author does\nnot directly attempt to disprove it, but will drop the subject here,\nand proceed to notice what method he proposes to follow in refuting\nthe two grand Catholic doctrines of the papacy and the mass.\n\nThe reverend doctor takes a review of the condition of Protestantism\nas in contrast with that of the Catholic Church, in which we are\nhappy to be able to concur with him as well as to commend the\ngraphic power of his description. He then briefly indicates three\nways of proceeding: one by tradition, one by tradition and Scripture\ntogether, and one by Scripture alone, which he selects, reserving the\nright to appeal to tradition when it is convenient. We will let his\nlanguage speak for itself:\n\n     \"As searchers after truth, we must acknowledge some standard and\n     appeal to some recognized authority. Without this we must follow\n     either our own mental bias, or else become the prey of every man\n     who shall be bold enough to declare that he has and holds the\n     truth of God. I fear very much we have lost sight of this need\n     of appeal to a recognized standard of truth and duty. We are, in\n     this new age, building apparently on the sand; or it would seem\n     that what we had supposed to be rock, on which many were building,\n     has become pulverized, and as the sands shift under the power of\n     the stream, multitudes believe to-day what they did not believe\n     yesterday, and to-morrow they may believe nothing at all.\n\n     \"I touch here a serious evil which is doing more harm to our\n     Protestantism than any direct assaults of Romanism. We seem to be\n     under some spell. Our spiritual ideas are resolving themselves\n     into a series of dissolving views; and all because the mind\n     has not the proper nutriment to impart health and vigor to our\n     religious feelings and convictions. Upon every account it becomes\n     us to recognize the fact that in religion we must have an actual,\n     definite standard of appeal. This we must find either in sacred\n     Scripture or in tradition, or in both combined. If we accept the\n     tradition of the church as law, we might as well abandon the\n     contest with Rome, because the traditions gradually, as they\n     gather force and headway in time, revolve around the papacy. The\n     traditions in the long run have made the papacy; they are its\n     chief support to-day. To accept them bodily, in mass, is to appeal\n     to actual Christendom--to the historic church--as to a standard\n     and law, and not as to a _witness_ of truth. It is to acknowledge\n     the identity of Christian truth and the Christian Church visible.\n     This brings us again to Romanism, or this is the postulate of the\n     Roman Catholic apologist.\n\n     \"If to-day I ask _what is truth?_ and if I allow every church or\n     sect to answer, I am stunned by a confused and unintelligible\n     noise. If I allow one church to answer, and only one, in the midst\n     of the crowd of churches, by my procedure I submit myself, in\n     advance, to that one church. But if I allow none to answer for\n     me, and I recognize, nevertheless, a divine historic revelation,\n     I am compelled to go to sacred Scripture in order to learn what\n     God requires me to believe. Shall we take the sacred Scripture\n     fashioned by Italian workmen? or by Greek, or by Anglican, or by\n     German, or by American workmen? No; but the text in its purity\n     and simplicity. Here we must take our stand whensoever we come to\n     the question of what it is necessary to believe in order to be a\n     Christian; whensoever, in a word, loyalty and the obedience of\n     faith are required or even considered.\n\n     \"I do not mean, however, to deny and repudiate utterly the\n     traditional principle. Christianity is historic. As a social\n     interest, as an organized spiritual fact, it comes to us from\n     the past. We cannot dismiss this past of Christian life and\n     history, any more than we can dismiss the past of our civil life\n     and institutions. The new generation, as it succeeds the old,\n     does not build again from the foundations. A. U. C. represented a\n     fact to the Roman citizen which he never could forget. We measure\n     time in the world's history by the letters A. D. We date our\n     public documents in the United States from the declaration of\n     our independence. We do not create the state anew; we administer\n     it as an existing fact. So in religion. Many things, many words,\n     institutions, and the like have come to us from the past, which\n     we accept and use as a matter of course. We baptize infants, we\n     observe the first day of the week, we use the imposition of hands\n     in ordination and confirmation, we employ the words sacrament,\n     trinity, incarnation, etc., in theology. This is an illustration\n     of the recognition of a traditional principle which is inevitable.\n     We do not, therefore, maintain that we must have a sure and\n     certain warrant of Scripture for all that we may observe and do\n     as Christians, because it is impossible to be confined to the\n     written word under all circumstances, and during all ages. Much is\n     left the conscience and judgment of individuals and of particular\n     churches; but when we come to faith, to what it is necessary to\n     believe as Christians, we must adhere firmly to the Bible, and\n     never for a moment allow any one to impose upon the conscience any\n     thing, as requisite to a true reception of the Gospel, which is\n     not contained therein, nor may be proved thereby.\n\n     \"This, then, is our standard of appeal. Logically and morally\n     it is the right and only standard of appeal in the discussion,\n     especially of the claims and teachings of any and of every church\n     whatsoever. If this be not the tribunal to which we must go, then\n     we must have recourse to the dictum of a church, and then, as we\n     have seen, we allow a church to be its own standard of appeal.\n     Consequently, when Rome proclaims her infallibility, we must allow\n     her claim. When the Church of England disowns infallibility, we\n     may or may not accept her disclaimer. If we do _not_ accept it,\n     then we prove her to be _fallible_, to be mistaken articulately\n     in respect of her own quality and prerogative. We are reduced to\n     absurdity.\n\n     \"We are forced back to sacred Scripture, and in the interests of\n     Christian truth we are compelled to take our stand here. And I\n     declare in all completeness of conviction, that with the Bible in\n     our hands we are triumphant against the doctrine of the supremacy\n     of the pope, and of the sacrifice of the mass. This is to be\n     triumphant against Romanism.\"\n\nDr. Harwood is sagacious enough not to follow the example of the\ngenerality of his Episcopalian associates, which the Presbyterians\nhave been lately seduced by their evil genius into following, that\nis, to appeal to the first six councils. He probably agrees with\nthe author of _Liber Librorum_ and Dr. Stanley, that in A.D. 200 we\nfind the thing he is opposing and anxious to escape from, existing.\n\"How, then, came such an institution into existence? For nothing\ncan be plainer than that about a hundred years after the death of\nJohn _it appears_, although in any thing but apostolic garb. All is\naltered.\" \"No other change,\" says Dean Stanley, \"equally momentous\nhas ever since affected its fortunes; yet none has ever been so\nsilent and secret. The church has now become history, the history\nnot of an isolated community or of isolated individuals, but of\nan organized society, incorporated with the political systems of\nthe world.\"... \"Hard is it to see in such a church any thing but a\nprofound mystery of God, a mystery of spiritual evil, a mystery of\niniquity.\"[61] Dr. Harwood feels it to be necessary to take refuge\nin the obscure period between the year 100 and the year 200 as in a\nchasm separating historical from scriptural Christianity. It is very\neasy to make a theory concerning the silent, sudden change which took\nplace during this century, and then, clearing history by a bound, to\nland in the New Testament. Once there, with full liberty of private\ninterpretation, which means freedom to interpret it by the light of\nany philosophical theory or preconceived opinions one may choose to\nadopt, Dr. Harwood thinks he is safe, and able to defend himself\nto the end against Romanism. He imagines that we are unwilling and\nunable to follow him there, and meet him--or rather the champions of\nhis cause--on their own chosen ground. \"In conclusion, we will ask\nyou to remember that the Roman Catholics have never liked our appeal\nto Scripture. They do not like it to-day any better than they liked\nit three hundred years ago.\" If the doctor thinks we are afraid of\nthe Scriptures, or in any way distrustful of our ability to prove\nour doctrines from it, he is extremely mistaken. We have always\nbeen ready to enter into that part of the argument, and we maintain\nspecifically respecting the two grand doctrines of the papacy and the\nmass that they can be fully and satisfactorily proved from Scripture,\nas in point of fact they have been proved, to mention no others,\nby Mr. Allies and Cardinal Wiseman. We object to the demand that\nScripture should be the only source of appeal, not because we are\nafraid that we shall be defeated by scriptural arguments; but because\nthe demand is unjust, and the assumption on which it is founded is\nbaseless. We demand that the subject shall be discussed in all its\nbearings, on all its grounds, by the light of all the knowledge that\nis attained from every source. We deny the ability of our adversaries\nto establish the authority of Scripture without first assuming\nCatholic principles, and we deny their logical and moral right after\nusing these principles in establishing Scripture, to throw away\nor burn their ladder by denying or ignoring these same principles\nwhen it is a question of establishing the sense of the Scripture,\nexplaining or integrating its statements. If we are to shut out of\nour minds all the ideas of Christianity which are extraneous to\nthe literal statements of the New Testament, to take the attitude\nof learners searching after truth, and to get from the naked text\nwithout other interpreter than itself the sense that is in it, we\nhave a difficult task of doubtful issue before us. John Locke, who\nwas probably as capable of doing this impartially as any Englishman\ncan be, tried it, and proclaimed as the result of his studies that\nonly one idea is demonstrably revealed in the New Testament, namely,\nthat Jesus Christ is the prophet of God to whose teaching and\nprecepts obedience is due. As to his actual teaching and precepts, he\ncould only find probability, concluding, therefore, very justly, that\nthere is no system of doctrine or code of precepts clearly binding\nupon all alike, each one being left to the guidance of a probable\nconscience only.\n\nIt is very difficult, if not impossible, to read the New Testament\nwithout spectacles. For our own part, we are quite sure that the New\nTestament contains more or less explicitly all the principal and\nmany of the minor Catholic doctrines, and that the sense given by\nthe church is the one given by true exegesis and criticism. Yet we\nwill not venture to say how far we should be able to see this without\nCatholic spectacles. We are quite sure that Dr. Harwood also has a\npair of spectacles, and cannot lay them aside if he would. We find\nin point of fact, that ordinarily persons who believe in the Bible\nand read it all their lives, whether Episcopalians, Presbyterians,\nor even Unitarians, are seldom startled out of the belief they have\nbeen taught, and convinced of some different interpretation, merely\nby reading it. It is evident, therefore, that any one exposition made\nof Christianity from the simple text will never be a demonstration in\nthe view of all candid, sincere persons. There will always be various\ninterpretations having more or less probability, and unity will never\nbe reached. Besides this, the degree and extent of inspiration will\nnever be settled, or the limits between the human, transitory element\nand the divine, unchangeable element become fixed. The result will\nbe that we must fall back on philosophy and a system of rationalism.\nLet it be conceded that the ideas in the mind of each sacred writer\nwhen he wrote are clearly apprehended, it will be impossible to\nsecure perfect submission even to the teachings of inspired men,\nwhen the principle of church authority has been cast to the winds.\nThis is the reason why, even at the outset of an argument, and\nbefore we are entitled to cite the authority of tradition as divine\nto one who denies it, we refuse to permit the case to be argued on\nthe scriptural ground alone, even though both parties admit the\ndivine authority of Scripture. We desire to do something more than\nto make a good case, and to establish our interpretation as even\nthe more probable or the most probable. We desire to prove it to a\ndemonstration which does not leave even a slight probability on the\nother side, through which an adversary may creep. We wish to have\nthe question adjudicated and decided, so that it may be clear and\nindisputable that God has revealed and commands all men to believe\nand obey the Gospel of his Son as a distinct and positive law of\nfaith and practice, and not as a mere theory. We are not afraid,\nhowever, that we cannot get the best of it, in a discussion of the\ntext of the New Testament, conducted on the same principles that we\nshould apply to an ancient manuscript about whose contents we have\nno extrinsic light whatever. Those who come nearest to this cold,\ncritical impartiality are men who possess the intellectual keenness\nnecessary to see into ideas as they are, without having any motive\nto misrepresent them. One who is indifferent as to the question\nwhat the sacred writers thought and intended to say, because he\nconsiders their teaching as equivalent only to that of Socrates\nor Confucius, and who is qualified to examine critically the New\nTestament, will at least attempt to state impartially what impression\nit has made on his mind. And that statement will throw some light on\nthe question, What does the text clearly and unmistakably signify\nby itself, apart from ideas on the same subject-matter which are\nderived from Christian tradition? One person of this kind, Mr. Samuel\nJohnson, of Lynn, Massachusetts, who is a leader among the Bostonian\nfree-thinkers, in an article which appeared in _The Radical_ gave\nhis opinion that the doctrine of the papacy is clearly contained in\nSt. Matthew's Gospel. The infidel Jew Salvador, in a work whose name\nwe do not now remember, but which we have attentively read, declares\nthat the Roman Catholic religion is the genuine religion of the\nNew Testament, and that Protestantism is a total misconception of\nChristianity; an opinion we have ourselves personally heard expressed\nby a well-informed and zealous Israelite of our acquaintance. We do\nnot care to press these testimonies too far; but at all events they\nindicate, in connection with the fact that so many learned students\nof the Bible, both Protestant and Catholic, interpret it in a manner\nquite different from that of Dr. Harwood's school, that it does not\non the face of it clearly and unmistakably pronounce in his favor or\nagainst us.\n\nWe insist then, further, that even conceding Dr. Harwood for a\nmoment in possession of the ground on which his belief of the divine\nauthority of the Scripture stands, he is bound to admit all the\nlight that ecclesiastical history throws back on its text, as he\nhimself partially but inconsistently admits, and as all Protestants\nhave ever done so far as it suited their purposes to do so. We\nmay illustrate this by a parallel case. A Christian discusses the\ntext of the Old Testament with a Jew. If the Jew should insist on\nsticking to the text, and interpreting the prophecies exclusively\nby biblical criticism, the Christian could justly insist that the\nfacts of the life of Jesus Christ and the history of Christianity\nmust be considered. The Jew himself would not fail to cite all kinds\nof historical facts not prejudicial to himself against an infidel,\nas manifesting the sense and fulfilment of the prophecies. Let the\nJew shut his eyes to the miracles proving the divine mission and\nmiraculous conception of Jesus, and he can very plausibly explain the\nfamous prediction, \"Behold the Virgin (ha almah) shall conceive,\"\netc., as signifying. \"Behold _this young woman_\"--that is, one\nstanding by and pointed out by Isaias--shall conceive and bear a\nson. So, with all the Messianic passages of the Old Testament, as\none may see by consulting Rabbi Leeser's English translation, with\nnotes, published at Philadelphia. Now, it is a perfectly fair and\nconclusive argument against a Jew to show that the history of Jesus,\nestablished on merely human faith, presents such a correspondence to\nthe prophecies of the Old Testament that it must be regarded as their\nfulfilment. Although the Old Testament alone might not reveal Jesus\nto his individual reason, yet in the light of his life it is shown\nthat these ancient Scriptures testify of him. It is not competent for\nhim to allege his Scripture as a complete and finished revelation,\nrejecting every thing which is not clearly visible on its face; for\nwe can show him that his Scriptures point out the glorious son of\nDavid's royal daughter as the one who will carry out the dispensation\nof Moses to its consummation.\n\nIt is precisely the same case between us and Protestants. We point to\nthe church as presenting historical facts and verities corresponding\nto the somewhat obscure predictions or other declarations of the\nScripture, and manifesting their significance. We show how all\nthat can be learned from the New Testament by itself is in harmony\nwith what the church proclaims herself to be, and declares true\nChristianity to consist in; and we show the Scripture presupposes,\nprovides for, and points toward the church. If we take all those\npassages which relate to the divine eucharist, and place beside them\nthe traditional teaching and practice of the church, we see them at\nonce lit up with meaning and irradiating our minds with the true\nand Catholic doctrine. One is the explanation of the other, and the\nhistorical existence of the sacrifice of the mass confronted with\nthe language of the Scripture demonstrates that it must be the thing\nwhich the sacred writers meant. We take the prediction of our Lord\nto St. Peter, \"Thou art Peter, and on this rock I will build my\nchurch.\" One who knows nothing about the Catholic Church might easily\nbe persuaded that our Lord meant no more than this: \"Thou art firm\nlike a rock in thy faith, and upon such a firm faith I will establish\nall the elect who are an invisible society known to me, and these\nSatan shall never be able to overcome.\" But when that stupendous,\nworld-subduing might of Peter's see which overawes even Dr. Harwood\nis contemplated in history as it emerges from the obscure dawn of the\nChristian era, and goes forward through all time conquering and to\nconquer, its plain correspondence to and fulfilment of the literal\nsignificance of our Lord's words proves conclusively that he meant\nthis, and nothing else. We do not intend, however, to go into this\nargument any further, as Dr. Harwood does not profess to argue the\npoint himself. All we aim at is, to show that the argument must be\nconducted on the ground of history as well as that of Scripture. And\nhere we desire to call attention to an admirable article by President\nWoolsey in the same number of the _New-Englander_, in which Dr.\nHarwood's lecture was first published, on the _Church of the Future_,\nwhich exhibits with rare ability the very idea we are insisting upon,\nthat the true Christianity is the genuine historical Christianity.\n\nThe only true issue which can be made is respecting the genuine,\nhistorical development of the Christian idea. Dr. Harwood and his\nschool cannot escape from this. If, therefore, the champions whom he\nsummons to the controversy respond to his call, they will be bound\nto demonstrate historically that the papal supremacy was a purely\nhuman invention substituted for the authentic constitution which\nthe apostles gave to the Christian church. This Dr. Harwood thinks\ncan be done. \"If the pope be that rock, we can find by the lights\nof history the strata and the law of its structure. We observe it\nacquired shape and size--and there is a hammer which can break it in\npieces.\" If there is such a hammer, we wonder that it has not yet\nbeen found and wielded. In our opinion, the enemies of the papacy\nhave already said every thing which can be said on their side of\nthe question. We are at a loss to know how history can be made to\ngive up any thing new on the subject, any thing which has not been\nalready thoroughly sifted and discussed. We are perfectly willing\nthat our adversaries should try again to look up or manufacture a\nhammer with which to try the effect of their blows upon the Rock of\nPeter. We think they will find that they are undertaking a herculean\ntask. One thing only we must be permitted to observe, that any one\nwho undertakes this controversy ought not to ignore and pass by\nwhat has already been written by Catholic controversialists. It is\nnot fair that the discussion should be always beginning _de novo_,\nand Catholic writers be required to repeat all the labor of their\npredecessors. If Dr. Harwood, or any one else, is disposed to attempt\nour demolition, let him first master all the arguments and evidences\nwhich have been already adduced on our side, give a distinct answer\nto them, and rebut the answers which we have already made to\nanti-papal arguments. Whoever does this with competent learning and\nability, will no doubt receive due attention; but until this is done,\nit will be quite sufficient for us to challenge a refutation of the\nworks of our champions which hitherto have remained unanswered, and\nwhich we confidently affirm to be unanswerable.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[60] Romans xvi. 20.\n\n[61] _Liber Librorum._ Note D, p. 228.\n\n\n\n\nHAYDN'S STRUGGLE AND TRIUMPH.\n\n\nI.\n\n\"Seventeen kreutzers for a morning's work!\" exclaimed a pretty but\nslovenly-dressed young woman, standing at the door of an apartment\nin a mean-looking house in one of the narrow streets of Vienna,\naddressing a man of low stature and sallow complexion, who had just\ncome in. \"And the printers running after you ever since you went\nout! Profitless doings for you to spend your time! At eight, the\nsinging-desk of the brothers De la Merci; at ten, Count de Haugwitz's\nchapel; grand mass at eleven; and all this toil for a few kreutzers!\"\n\n\"What can I do?\" said the weary, desponding man.\n\n\"Do! Give up this foolish business of music, and take to something\nthat will enable you to live. Did not my father, a hair-dresser, give\nyou shelter when you had only your garret and skylight, and had to\nlie in bed and write for want of coals? Had he not a right to expect\nyou would dress his daughter as well as she had been used at home,\nand that she should have servants to wait on her, as in her father's\nhouse?\"\n\n\"You should not reproach me, Nanny. Have I not worked till my health\nhas given way? If fortune is inexorable--\"\n\n\"Fortune! As if fortune did not always wait upon industry in a proper\ncalling. Your patrons admire and applaud, but they will not _pay_;\nyet you _will_ drudge away your life in this ungrateful occupation. I\ntell you, Joseph Haydn, music is not the thing!\"\n\nHere a knock was heard at the door; and the wife, with exclamations\nof impatience, flounced away. The unfortunate artist threw himself on\na seat, and leaned his head on a table covered with notes of music.\nSo entirely had he yielded himself to despondency that he did not\nmove, even when the door opened, till the sound of a well-known voice\nclose at his side startled him from his melancholy reverie.\n\n\"How now, Haydn! what is the matter, my boy?\"\n\nThe speaker was an old man, shabbily dressed, but with something\nstriking and even commanding in his noble features. His large, dark,\nflashing eyes, his olive complexion, and the contour of his face\nbespoke him a native of a sunnier clime than that of Germany. Haydn\nsprang up and welcomed him with a cordial embrace.\n\n\"And when, my dear Porpora, did you return to Vienna?\" he asked.\n\n\"This morning only; and my first care was to find you out. But how is\nthis? I find you thin, and pale, and gloomy. Where are your spirits?\"\n\n\"Gone,\" murmured the composer, and dropped his eyes on the floor. His\nvisitor regarded him with a look of affectionate interest.\n\nIn answer to Porpora's inquiries, Haydn told him of the struggles and\nfailures by which he had been led to doubt his own genius, till he\nhad succumbed under the crushing hand of poverty. \"I am chained,\" he\nconcluded bitterly; and, giving way to the anguish of his heart, he\nburst into tears.\n\nPorpora shook his head, and was silent for a few moments. At length\nhe said:\n\n\"I must, I see, give you a little of my experience. I was, you know,\na pupil of Scarlatti more fortunate than you; for my works procured\nme almost at once a wide-spread fame. I was called for not only in\nVenice, but in Vienna and London.\"\n\n\"Ah! yours was a brilliant lot,\" cried the young composer, looking up\nwith kindling eyes.\n\n\"The Saxon court,\" continued Porpora, \"offered me the direction\nof the chapel and of the theatre at Dresden. Even the princesses\nreceived my lessons; in short, my success was so great that I\nawakened the jealousy of Hasse himself. All this you know, and how I\nreturned to London upon the invitation of amateurs in Italian music.\"\n\n\"Where you rivalled Handel!\" said Haydn enthusiastically. \"Handel,\nwith all his greatness, had no versatility. Your sacred music,\nPorpora, will live when your theatrical compositions have ceased to\nenjoy unrivalled popularity.\"\n\n\"My sacred compositions may survive and carry my name to posterity;\nfor taste in such things is less mutable than in the opera. You\nsee now, dear Haydn, for what I have lived and labored. I was once\nrenowned and wealthy. What did prosperity bring me? Envy, discontent,\nrivalship, disappointment! Would you know to what period I can look\nback with self-approbation, with thankfulness? To the toil of early\nyears; to the struggle after an ideal of greatness, goodness, and\nbeauty; to the self-forgetfulness that saw only the glorious goal\nfar, far before me; to the undismayed resolve that sought only its\nattainment. Or to a time still later, when the visions of manhood's\nimpure and selfish ambition had faded away, when the soul had shaken\noff some of her fetters, and roused herself to a perception of the\neternal, the perfect, the divine; when I became conscious of the\ndelusive vanity of earthly hopes and earthly excellence, but at the\nsame time awakened to the revelation of that which cannot die!\n\n\"You see me now, seventy-three years old, and too poor to command\neven a shelter for the few days that yet remain to me in this world.\nI have lost the splendid fame I once possessed; I have lost the\nriches that were mine; I have lost the power to win even a competence\nby my own labors; but I have not lost my passion for our glorious\nmusic, nor enjoyment of the reward she bestows on her votaries; nor\nmy confidence in Heaven. And you, at twenty-seven, you--more greatly\nendowed, to whom the world is open--_you_ despair! Are you worthy to\nsucceed, O man of little faith?\"\n\n\"My friend, my benefactor!\" cried the young artist, clasping his hand\nwith deep emotion.\n\n\"Cast away your bonds; cut and rend, if your very flesh is torn in\nthe effort; and the ground once spurned, you are free. What have you\nbeen doing?\" And he turned over rapidly the musical notes that lay on\nthe table. \"Here, what is this--a symphony? Play it for me, if you\nplease.\"\n\nSo saying, with a gentle force he led his young friend to the piano,\nand Haydn played from the piece he had nearly completed.\n\n\"This is excellent, admirable!\" cried Porpora, when he rose from the\ninstrument. \"When can you finish this? for I must have it at once.\"\n\n\"To-morrow, if you like,\" answered the composer more cheerfully.\n\n\"To-morrow then; and you must work to-night. I will go and order you\na physician; he will come to-morrow morning--how madly your pulse\nthrobs!--and when your work is done, you may rest. Adieu for the\npresent.\" And pressing his young friend's hands, the eccentric but\nbenevolent old man departed, leaving Haydn full of new thoughts, his\nbosom fired with zeal to struggle against adverse fortune. In such\nmoods does the spiritual champion wrestle with the powers of the\nabyss, and mightily prevail.\n\nWhen Haydn, late that night, threw himself on his bed, weary, ill,\nand exhausted, his frame racked with the pains of fever, he had\naccomplished the first of an order of works destined to endear his\nname to all succeeding time.\n\nWhile the artist lay on a sick-bed, a brilliant _f\u00eate_ was given by\nCount Mortzin, an Austrian nobleman of immense wealth and influence,\nat which the most distinguished individuals in Vienna were present.\nThe musical entertainments given by these luxurious patrons of the\narts were at that time, and for some years after, the most splendid\nin Europe.\n\nWhen the concert was over, Prince Antoine Esterhazy expressed the\npleasure he had received, and his obligations to the noble host.\n\"Chief among your magnificent novelties,\" said he, \"is the new\nsymphony, _St. Maria_. One does not hear every day such music. Who is\nthe composer?\"\n\nThe count referred to one of his friends. The answer was, \"Joseph\nHaydn.\"\n\n\"I have heard his quartettos; he is no common artist. Is he in your\nservice, count?\"\n\n\"He has been employed by me.\"\n\n\"With your good leave, he shall be transferred to ours; and I shall\ntake care he has no reason to regret the change. Let him be presented\nto us.\"\n\nThere was a murmur among the audience and a movement, but the\ncomposer did not appear; and presently word was brought to his\nhighness that the young man on whom he intended to confer so great an\nhonor was detained at home by illness.\n\n\"So! Let him be brought to me as soon as he recovers; he shall enter\nmy service. I like his symphony vastly. Your pardon, count; for we\nwill rob you of your best man.\" And the great prince, having decided\nthe destiny of a greater than himself, turned to those who surrounded\nhim to speak of other matters.\n\nNews of the change in his fortune was brought to Haydn by his friend\nPorpora; and so renovating was the effect of hope that he was strong\nenough on the following day to pay his respects to his illustrious\npatron. His highness was just preparing to ride, but would see the\ncomposer; and he was conducted through a splendid suite of rooms\nto the apartment where the proud head of the Esterhazys deigned to\nreceive an almost nameless artist. The prince, in the splendid array\nsuited to his rank, glanced somewhat carelessly at the low, slight\nfigure that stood before him, and said, as he was presented, \"Is\nthis, then, the composer of the music I heard last night?\"\n\n\"This is he--Joseph Haydn,\" replied the friend who introduced him.\n\n\"So--a Moor, I should judge from his dark complexion. And you write\nsuch music? Haydn--I recollect the name; and I remember hearing, too,\nthat you were not well paid for your labors, eh?\"\n\n\"I have been very unfortunate, your highness--\"\n\n\"Well, you shall have no reason to complain in my service. My\nsecretary shall fix your appointments; and name whatever else you\ndesire. All of your profession find me liberal. Now then, sir Moor,\nyou may go; and let it be your first care to provide yourself with\na new coat, a wig, and buckles and heels to your shoes. I will have\nyou respectable in appearance as well as in talents; so let me have\nno more of shabby professors. And do your best, my little dusky, to\nrecruit in flesh--it will add to the stature; and to relieve your\nolive with a shade of the ruddy. Such spindle masters would be a\nwalking discredit to our larder, which is truly a spendthrift one.\"\n\nSo saying, with a laugh, the haughty nobleman dismissed his new\ndependent. The artist chafed not at the imperious tone of patronage;\nfor he did not yet feel the superiority of his own vocation. It was\nthe bondage-time of genius; the wings were not yet grown which were\nto bear his spirit up, when it brooded over a new world.\n\nThe life which Haydn led in the service of Prince Esterhazy, to\nwhich service he was permanently attached by Nicolas, the successor\nof Antoine, in the quality of chapel-master, was one so easy that\nit might have proved fatal to an artist more inclined to luxury and\npleasure, or less devoted to his art. Now for the first time relieved\nfrom the care of the future, he was enabled to yield to the impulse\nof his genius, and create works which gradually extended his fame\nover all the countries of Europe.\n\n\nII.\n\nOn the evening of a day in the beginning of April, 1809, all the\nlovers of art in Vienna were assembled in the theatre to witness the\nperformance of the oratorio of _The Creation_. The entertainment\nhad been given in honor of the composer of that noble work--the\nillustrious Haydn--by his numerous friends and admirers. He had been\nenticed from Gumpendorf, his retreat in the suburbs, the cottage\nsurrounded by a little garden which he had purchased after his\nretirement from the Esterhazy service, and where he was spending\nthe last years of his life. Three hundred musicians assisted at\nthe performance. The audience rose _en masse_ and greeted with\nrapturous applause the white-haired man, who, led forward by the\nmost distinguished nobles in the city, was conducted to the place\nof honor. There, seated with princesses at his right hand, beauty\nsmiling upon him, the centre of a circle of nobility, the observed\nand admired of all, the object of the acclamations of thousands--who\nwould not have said that Haydn had reached the summit of human\ngreatness, had more than realized the proudest visions of his\nyouth? His serene countenance, his clear eye, his air of dignified\nself-possession, showed that prosperity had not overcome him, but\nthat amid the smiles of fortune he had not forgotten the true\nexcellence of man.\n\n\"I can see plainly,\" remarked one of Haydn's friends, whom we will\ncall Manuel, \"that he will write no more.\"\n\n\"He has done enough; and now we are ready for the farewell of Haydn,\"\nsaid another.\n\n\"The farewell?\"\n\n\"Did you never hear the story? I have heard him tell it often myself.\nIt concerns one of his most celebrated symphonies. The occasion\nwas this: Among the musicians attached to the service of Prince\nEsterhazy, were several who, during his sojourn upon his estates,\nwere obliged to leave their wives at Vienna. At one time his highness\nprolonged his stay at Esterhazy castle considerably beyond the usual\nperiod. The disconsolate husbands entreated Haydn to become the\ninterpreter of their wishes. Thus the idea came to him of composing\na symphony in which each instrument ceased, one after another. He\nadded at the close of every part the direction, 'Here the light is\nextinguished.' Each musician, in his turn, rose, put out his candle,\nrolled up his notes, and went away. This pantomime had the desired\neffect; the next morning the prince gave orders for their return to\nthe capital.\n\n\"He used to tell us a somewhat similar story of the origin of his\nTurkish or military symphony. You know the high appreciation he met\nwith in his visits to England; but notwithstanding the praise and\nhomage he received, he could not prevent the enthusiastic audience\nfrom falling asleep during the performance of his compositions. It\noccurred to him to devise a kind of ingenious revenge. In this piece,\nwhile the current is gliding softly, and slumber beginning to steal\nover the senses of his audience, a sudden and unexpected burst of\nmartial music, tremendous as a thunder-peal, startles the surprised\nsleepers into active attention. I would have liked to see the\nlethargic islanders, with their eyes and mouths thrown open by such\nan unlooked-for shock!\"\n\nA stop was suddenly put to the conversation by the commencement of\nthe performance. _The Creation_, the first of Haydn's oratorios,\nwas regarded as his greatest work, and had often elicited the most\nheartfelt applause. Now that the aged and honored composer was\npresent, probably for the last time, to hear it, an emotion too deep\nfor utterance seemed to pervade the vast audience. The feeling was\ntoo reverential to be expressed by the ordinary tokens of pleasure.\nIt seemed as if every eye in the assembly were fixed on the calm,\nnoble face of the venerated artist; as if every heart beat with\nlove for him. Then came, like a succession of heavenly melodies, the\nmusic of _The Creation_, and the listeners felt as if transported\nback to the infancy of the world. At the words, \"Let there be light,\nand there was light,\" when all the instruments were united in one\nfull burst of gorgeous harmony, emotion seemed to shake the whole\nframe of the aged artist. His pale face crimsoned; his bosom heaved\nconvulsively; he raised his eyes, streaming with tears, toward\nheaven, and, lifting upward his trembling hands, exclaimed, his voice\naudible in the pause of the music, \"Not unto me--not unto me--but\nunto thy name be all the glory, O Lord!\"\n\nFrom this moment Haydn lost the calmness and serenity that had marked\nthe expression of his countenance. The very depths of his heart had\nbeen stirred, and ill could his wasted strength sustain the tide\nof feeling. When the superb chorus at the close of the second part\nannounced the completion of the work of creation, he could bear the\nexcitement no longer. Assisted by the prince's physician and several\nof his friends, he was carried from the theatre, pausing to give\none last look of gratitude, expressed in his tearful eyes, to the\norchestra who had so nobly executed his conception, and followed by\nthe lengthened plaudits of the spectators, who felt that they were\nnever to look upon his face again.\n\nSome weeks after this occurrence, his friend Manuel, who had sent to\ninquire after his health, received from him a card on which he had\nwritten, to notes of music, the words, \"_Meine kraft ist dahin_,\"\n\"My strength is gone.\" Haydn was in the habit of sending about these\ncards, but his increased feebleness was evident in the handwriting\nof this; and Manuel lost no time in hastening to him There, in his\nquiet cottage, around which rolled the thunders of war, terrifying\nothers but not him, sat the venerable composer. His desk stood on one\nside, on the other his piano; he smiled, and held out his hand to\ngreet his friend.\n\n\"Many a time,\" he murmured, \"you have cheered my solitude, and now\nyou have come to see the old man die.\"\n\n\"Speak not thus, my dear friend,\" cried Manuel, grieved to the heart;\n\"you will recover.\"\n\n\"Not here,\" answered Haydn, and pointed upward.\n\nHe then made a sign to one of his attendants to open the desk, and\nreach him a roll of papers. From these he took one and gave it to\nhis friend. It was inscribed in his own hand, \"Catalogue of all my\nmusical compositions, which I can remember, since my eighteenth year.\nVienna, 4th December, 1805.\" Manuel, as he read it, understood the\nmute pressure of his friend's hand, and sighed deeply. That hand\nwould never trace another note.\n\n\"Better thus,\" said Haydn softly, \"than a lingering old age of care,\ndisease, perhaps of poverty! No; I am happy. I have lived not in\nvain. I have accomplished my destiny; I have done good. I am ready\nfor thy call, O Master!\"\n\nHis spiritual adviser and guide was with him the next hour, and\nadministered the last consolations of religion. The aged man was\nwrapped in devotion. At length he asked to be supported to his\npiano; it was opened, and as his trembling fingers touched the keys,\nan expression of rapture was kindled in his eyes. The music that\nanswered his touch seemed the music of inspiration. But it gradually\nfaded away; the flush gave place to a deadly pallor; and while his\nfingers still rested on the keys, he sank back into the arms of his\nfriend, and gently breathed out his parting spirit. It passed as in a\nhappy strain of melody!\n\nPrince Esterhazy did honor to the memory of his departed friend by\nthe pageant of funeral ceremonies. His remains were transported\nto Eisenstadt, in Hungary, and placed in the Franciscan vault.\nThe prince also purchased, at a high price, all his books and\nmanuscripts, and the numerous medals he had obtained. But his fame\nbelongs to the world; and in all hearts sensible to the music of\ntruth and nature is consecrated the memory of Haydn.\n\n\n\n\nPRAYER.\n\n\n    If men but knew--a wise priest gravely said,\n    His Roman doctor's cap upon his head--\n    If men but knew what they had won by prayer\n    Aside from all their worldly thrift and care,\n    They might be tempted, in a literal sense,\n    \"Always to pray,\" and with just toil dispense.\n\n\n\n\nTHE IMMUTABILITY OF THE SPECIES.\n\n\nII.\n\nOf the several circumstances which led to the conception of\nthe theory here advanced, the first and most important was the\nrecognition of the fact that variation was left unaccounted for upon\nthe hypothesis of evolution. Here, if anywhere, we conceived, was to\nbe found the vulnerable part of Darwinism. It occurred to us that the\nprobabilities were that a theory was false when it had for its data\nphenomena which conform to no law. Our subsequent inquiries furnished\nus with nothing by which to rebut this presumption; but with much to\nconfirm it. Our suspicion at last strengthened into conviction, and\nwe became confident that contemplation of the subject of the cause\nof variation alone could furnish us with a solution of the whole\nquestion.\n\nIt is of laws alone of which we speak in these articles. All\nthe facts adduced by Darwin we accept, and use them merely as\nillustrations. We have nothing in common with those who contend\nthat the refutation of Darwinism lies solely with mere compilers\nof facts--fanciers, florists, and breeders. Darwin has heretofore\nanticipated nothing but a joinder of issue upon facts. He has\napparently never contemplated being met by a demurrer. He has\nendeavored to confound his opponents by a vast multitude of facts;\nand, owing to his reverence for whatever has the sanction of\nantiquity, it has never entered his mind that any one would be so\npresumptuous as to demur to the time-honored conception of _new\ngrowth_, upon which these facts are based. Of this presumption we\nare guilty when we deny the very existence of organic evolution.\n\nIn the preceding article we directly intimated, on several occasions,\nthat no theory other than that of reversion can afford a solution of\nthe mystery of the appearance of favorable modifications. As some\nlittle diversity of opinion exists respecting Darwin's views on the\nsubject of the cause of variation, it may be well for us to dwell\nawhile on this question, and to furnish some evidence substantiating\nour statement.\n\nDarwin, in his _Origin of Species_, candidly and frankly admits that\nhe can assign no satisfactory reason for the appearance of favorable\nmodifications. He ascribes them to \"spontaneous variability,\" and\nassures us that \"our ignorance of the laws of variation is profound.\"\nWe might adduce a number of other expressions equally declaratory of\nhis inability to assign the cause of variation; but as the Duke of\nArgyll has taken such pains to direct attention to this _hiatus_ in\nDarwin's evidence, we cannot refrain from quoting from his _The Reign\nof Law_:\n\n     \"It has not, I think, been sufficiently observed that the theory\n     of Mr. Darwin does not address itself to the same question, (the\n     introduction of new forms of life,) and does not even profess to\n     trace the origin of new forms to any definite law. His theory\n     gives an explanation, not of the processes by which new forms\n     first appear, but only of the processes by which, when they have\n     appeared, they acquire a preference over others, and thus become\n     established in the world. A new species is, indeed, according to\n     his theory, as well as with the older theories of development,\n     simply an unusual birth. The bond of connection between allied\n     specific and generic forms is, in his view, simply the bond of\n     inheritance. But Mr. Darwin does not pretend to have discovered\n     any law or rule according to which new forms have been born from\n     old forms. He does not hold that outward conditions, however\n     changed, are sufficient to account for them. Still less does he\n     connect them with the effort or aspirations of any organisms after\n     new faculties and powers. He frankly confesses that 'our ignorance\n     of the laws of variation is profound;' and says that in speaking\n     of them as due to chance, he means only 'to acknowledge plainly\n     our ignorance of the cause of each particular variation.' Again he\n     says, 'I believe in no law of necessary development.'\" (P. 228.)\n\nOn page 254, the Duke of Argyll continues:\n\n     \"It will be seen, then, that the principle of Natural Selection\n     has no bearing whatever on the origin of species, but only on\n     the preservation and distribution of species when they have\n     arisen. I have already pointed out that Mr. Darwin does not\n     always keep this distinction clearly in view; because he speaks\n     of natural selection 'producing' organs or 'adapting' them. It\n     cannot be too often repeated that natural selection can produce\n     nothing whatever except the conservation or preservation of some\n     variation otherwise originated. The _true_ origin of species\n     does not consist in the adjustments which help varieties to live\n     and prevail; but in those previous adjustments which cause those\n     varieties to be born at all. Now, what are these? Can they be\n     traced or even guessed at? Mr. Darwin has a whole chapter on the\n     laws of variation, and it is here, if anywhere, that we look for\n     any suggestion as to the physical causes which account for the\n     origin as distinguished from the preservation of the species.\n     He candidly admits that his doctrine of natural selection takes\n     cognizance of variations only after they have arisen, and that\n     it regards variations as purely accidental in their origin, or,\n     in other words, as due to chance. This, of course, he adds, is\n     a supposition wholly incorrect, and only serves 'to indicate\n     plainly our ignorance of the cause of each particular variation.'\n     Accordingly, the laws of variation which he proceeds to indicate\n     are merely certain observed facts in respect to variation, and do\n     not at all come under the category of laws, in that higher sense\n     in which the word law indicates a discovered method under which\n     natural forces are made to work.\"\n\nIt will be seen that we have not gone too far in proclaiming Darwin's\ninability to account for variation. In the absence, then, of any\nother rational explanation, are we not necessitated to accept the\ntheory of reversion? What possible objection can be urged against it?\nReversion is not a heretofore unknown factor. Nor is it an occult\nfactor. It is constantly recognized by Darwin. Two chapters of the\n_Animals and Plants under Domestication_ are filled with phenomena\nillustrating its action; and it forms the basis of his lately\npropounded hypothesis of pangenesis.\n\nIn the interval between the publication of his _Origin of Species_\nand the writing of his _Animals and Plants under Domestication_,\nDarwin has received no enlightenment as to the cause of variation. A\nwriter in _The North American Review_ for October, 1868, holds the\ncontrary, and distinctly asserts that Darwin is inclined to adopt\nthe mechanist theory, to attribute the phenomena of variation solely\nto the influence of the physical conditions, and to repudiate the\nidea of a concurrent cause. After speaking of Mr. Herbert Spencer's\nascription of variations to the physical conditions, he says:\n\n     \"In his latest work, Mr. Darwin inclines to adopt the mechanist\n     theory, so far as the cause of variations is concerned. 'We will\n     now consider,' he says, 'the general arguments, which appear to\n     me to have great weight, in favor of the view that variations\n     are directly or indirectly caused by the conditions of life to\n     which each being, and more especially its ancestors, have been\n     exposed.... These several considerations alone render it probable\n     that variation of every kind is directly or indirectly caused by\n     changed conditions of life. Or, to put the case under another\n     point of view; if it were possible to expose all the individuals\n     of a species to absolutely uniform conditions, there would be no\n     variability.' When variations of all kinds and degrees, that is,\n     all the gradual differentiations by which the vast multitude of\n     existing species has been evolved out of the primordial form or\n     forms, are thus attributed solely to the accumulative action of\n     the conditions of life, without any recognition of a concurrent\n     cause in that constant self-adaptation by organisms for which the\n     conditions cannot account, it would seem fairly inferrible that\n     the mechanist theory is supposed to explain the evolution of the\n     species, if not of individual organisms.\"\n\nNow, there is nothing in the expressions quoted from Darwin's work,\nwhich justifies such a construction as _The North American Review_\nhas here placed upon them. Although we, as a vitalist, implicitly\nbelieve in the co\u00f6peration of other than mechanical causes, yet\nwe fully and most unqualifiedly concur in Darwin's assertion that\nthere would be no variability were all the individuals of a species\nexposed to absolutely uniform conditions. This fact is by no means\nincompatible with a belief in \"forces which manifest themselves in\nthe organism.\" We have shown that varieties or races under nature\nare attributable solely to the action of the conditions of life.\nUnder domestication, the changed conditions are the secondary cause\nof favorable modifications, reversion being the primary cause.\nBut without the concurrence of this secondary cause, it is wholly\nimpossible for favorable variations to occur. The expressions of\nDarwin, then, carry with them no implication that variations are\nsolely caused by the changed condition; for the recognition of the\npower of the conditions to the extent claimed by Darwin by no means\nprecludes the belief in a concurrent cause. The conclusion that a\nchange in the conditions is a cause of variation, and that were\nthere no such change there would be no variability, is necessitated\nby the theory here advanced. For, an acquaintance with phenomena\ndisplaying the action of the physical conditions forces upon us the\nteleological inference that certain conditions are essential to\nthe full development of characters. Does it not thence necessarily\nfollow that, when the conditions are dissimilar, modifications will\nresult from the individuals of a species being exposed to conditions\nfavorable or unfavorable in different degrees to the growth of some\nof the parts or features? Darwin's assertion is then quite consistent\nwith a belief in the concurrence of causes not mechanical.\n\nBut the discovery of Darwin's opinion on this point is not left\nsolely to conjecture and speculation. Had the _North American_\nReviewer carefully perused Darwin's late work, he would have found\nmany most unequivocal declarations of the author's belief in the\nconcurrence of other causes. They recur most frequently.\n\nOn page 248, Vol. II., he says, \"Throughout this chapter and\nelsewhere, I have spoken of selection as the paramount power; yet\nits action absolutely depends on what we in our ignorance call\nspontaneous or accidental variability.\"\n\nPage 250: \"Variation depends in a far higher degree on the nature\nor constitution of the being, than on the nature of the changed\nconditions.\"\n\nOn page 291, after giving cases of bud-variation, he says, \"When\nwe reflect on these facts, we become deeply impressed with the\nconviction that in such cases the nature of the variation depends\nbut little on the conditions to which the plant has been exposed,\nand not in any especial manner on its individual character, but\nmuch more on the general nature or constitution, inherited from\nsome remote progenitor of the whole group of allied beings to which\nthe plant belongs. We are thus driven to conclude that in most\ncases the conditions of life play a subordinate part in causing any\nparticular modification; like that which a spark plays when a mass\nof combustible matter bursts into flame--the nature of the flame\ndepending on the combustible matter and not on the spark.\" And again,\non page 288, \"Now is it possible to conceive external conditions\nmore closely alike than those to which the buds on the same tree are\nexposed? Yet one bud out of the many thousands borne by the same\ntree has suddenly, without any apparent cause, produced nectarines.\nBut the case is even stronger than this; for the same flower-bud has\nyielded a fruit one half or a quarter a nectarine, and the other\nhalf or three quarters a peach. Again, seven or eight varieties of\nthe peach have yielded, by bud variation, nectarines; the nectarines\nthus produced no doubt differed a little from each other; but still\nthey are nectarines. Of course there must be some cause internal or\nexternal to excite the peach-bud to change its nature; but I cannot\nimagine a class of facts better adapted to force on our mind the\nconviction that what we call the external conditions of life are\nquite insignificant in relation to any particular variation, in\ncomparison with the organization or constitution of the being which\nvaries.\"\n\nThese assertions that there is something beyond the actions of the\nconditions of life are met with continually in his work, and they\nfully and conclusively show that he is no-wise inclined to adopt the\nmechanist theory. What alternative have we, then, but to conclude\nthat this occult potent factor is reversion?\n\nWe have, we think, sufficiently shown that Darwin does not attribute\nvariations solely to the conditions. But it has been asserted by\nthe _North American_ Reviewer, of whom we have often spoken, that\nMr. Herbert Spencer declares them to be thus solely due. A dozen\ncareful perusals of _The Principles of Biology_ have failed to\ncorroborate such a statement. On the contrary, Mr. Spencer on many\noccasions makes use of the phrase \"spontaneous variations,\" though,\napparently, under protest. It is true that throughout his work there\nis a constant insistance on the great part played by the physical\nconditions in causing variations. The greatest prominence is given\nto this factor. There is also a manifest desire that the mechanical\nforces be taken as adequate to the production of the phenomena. But\nnowhere is there clearly expressed a repudiation of the idea of\nconcurrent cause. In some places there is a recognition of it.\n\nThus, on page 281, Mr. Darwin, after speaking of the action of the\nconditions of life, says, \"Mr. Herbert Spencer has recently discussed\nwith great ability this whole subject on broad and general grounds.\nHe argues, for instance, that the internal and external tissues\nare differently acted on by the surrounding conditions, and they\ninvariably differ in intimate structure; so, again, the upper and\nlower surfaces of true leaves are differently circumstanced with\nrespect to light, etc., and apparently in consequence differ in\nstructure. But, as Mr. Herbert Spencer admits, it is most difficult\nin all such cases to distinguish between the effects of the definite\naction of physical conditions and the accumulation through natural\nselection of inherited variations which are serviceable to the\norganism, and which have arisen independently of the definite action\nof these conditions.\"\n\nIt may be well to remark that the physical conditions are the sole\ncause of variation when viewed in their statical aspect; but when\nviewed in their dynamical aspect, the conditions are, except when\nthe movement is in the direction of degeneration, only the secondary\ncause. For, upon the theory here enunciated, were all the individuals\nof a species fully developed, there would be but one race or variety,\nthat is, the perfect type. The existence of a plurality of races or\nvarieties necessarily implies the unfavorable modification of some of\nthe parts or characters of some of the members of the species.\n\nIt is hardly possible for any one's common sense to be so impaired,\neven by speculation or the bias of a foregone conclusion, as to\ninduce a belief that the characters given below have arisen solely by\nthe action of the physical conditions. When the cases are isolated,\nsuch a belief is, in a small measure, excusable; but when they are\ngiven consecutively, the ascription of the characters solely to\nmechanical causes would imply not a little aberration of mind.\n\nNumerous instances of bud-variation are given by Darwin. Several\nof these we have incidentally adverted to. By this process of\nbud-variation have arisen in one generation alone, and even in one\nseason, nectarines from the peach, the red magnum bonum plum from\nthe yellow magnum bonum, and the moss-rose from the Provence rose.\nMany other instances might be adduced of the appearance of characters\nequally strongly pronounced.\n\nThat the following characters have not arisen in one generation\nis confessedly owing to the lack of scientific knowledge as to\nthe conditions requisite for their growth. The English lop-eared\nrabbit, which is under domestication, weighs not less than eighteen\npounds. The pouter-pigeon is distinguished by the great size of\nits oesophagus; the English carrier-pigeon, by its surprisingly\nlong beak; and the fantail, as its name connotes, by its immense\nupwardly-expanded tail. In the progenitor of these birds, the\nrock pigeon, (_columba livia_,) there is not a trace of these\ncharacters discernible. It is a matter of great surprise to look at\nthe stringy roots of the wild carrot and parsnip, and then to note\nthe astonishingly great improvement which has resulted from their\nsubjection to more favorable conditions. Gooseberries have attained a\ngreat size and weight. The London gooseberry is now between seven and\neight times the weight of the wild fruit. The fruit of one variety of\nthe _curcurbita pepo_ exceeds in volume that of another by more than\ntwo thousand fold!\n\nNow, these strongly pronounced favorable modifications are explicable\nonly upon the theory of reversion. Had they arisen by the slow\naccumulation, through centuries, of successive, scarcely appreciable\nincrements of modification, their being due to evolution, or solely\nto the physical conditions, would be less inconceivable. Darwin's\nprofessedly favorite rule is, _Natura non facit saltum_--\"Nature\nmakes no leaps.\" But we fail to see nature's conformity to it. We\nmust confess that upon the hypothesis of evolution nature indulges\nherself with the most gigantic leaps.\n\nIt might be urged that, upon assuming, for the purposes of the\nargument, that Mr. Herbert Spencer does attribute variations solely\nto the physical conditions, he is thereby discharged from the\nimputation of advocating a theory which is wholly gratuitous. But he\nassuredly is not. He is placed by this ascription of variations in\nno better position, so far as respects this point. He has adduced\nno evidence in favor of their being thus solely ascribable. His\nattribution of them solely to the physical conditions is equally\ngratuitous with his ascription of them to evolution. The fact that\nvariations are due to a change in the conditions, and that variations\nwould be absent were all the individuals of a species subjected to\nabsolutely uniform conditions, is, as we have seen, quite compatible\nwith a belief in a concurrent cause. The necessity of a change in the\nconditions is admitted, and even called for, upon our theory. Mr.\nHerbert Spencer's assumed assertion of variation being due solely to\nmechanical causes would necessarily imply a denial of a concurrent\ncause. But this denial is wholly gratuitous; he has furnished no\nwarrant for it. And again, assuming him to concede a concurrent\ncause, the question then recurs, Are variations attributable to\nreversion or to evolution? As we have seen, there is no foundation\nfor ascribing them to evolution--evolution being merely a name for a\ncause unknown.\n\nIn _The Westminster Review_ for July, 1865, and in _The North\nAmerican Review_ for October, 1868, Mr. Herbert Spencer is taxed\nwith inconsistency. In his _Principles of Biology_, Mr. Spencer\nwrites, \"In whatever way it is formulated, or by whatever language\nit is obscured, this ascription of organic evolution to some\naptitude naturally possessed, or miraculously imposed on them, is\nunphilosophical. It is one of those explanations which explains\nnothing--a shaping of ignorance into the semblance of knowledge. The\ncause assigned is not a true cause--not a cause assimilable to known\ncauses--not a cause that can anywhere be shown to produce analogous\neffects. It is a cause unrepresentable in thought; one of those\nillegitimate symbolic conceptions which cannot by any mental process\nbe elaborated into a real conception. In brief, this assumption of\na persistent formative power, inherent in organisms, and making\nthem unfold into higher forms, is an assumption no more tenable than\nthe assumption of special creations; of which, indeed, it is but\na modification, differing only by the fusion of separate unknown\nprocesses into a continuous unknown process.\" When he proceeds to\ntreat of the waste and repair of the tissues, he finds that they\nrefuse to acknowledge his mechanical principles, and he is forced\nto assume for the living particles \"an _innate_ tendency to arrange\nthemselves into the shape of the organism to which they belong.\" The\ninconsistency was noted, commented upon, and became the subject of\nmuch animadversion.\n\nThis inconsistency, however, is comparatively excusable, as the\nhistological phenomena which he had to explain are complicated and\ninvolved, and have to respond to the influences of divers parts\nof the body. But were we to show that his denunciation of the\n\"ascription of organic evolution to some aptitude,\" is equally\napplicable to the attribution to \"evolution,\" he would be considered,\nwe are sure, guilty of the grossest possible inconsistency. This we\ncan show; for there is no definition of a \"metaphysical entity,\" to\nwhich the term evolution does not answer. Can any one conversant with\nthe works of the first of evolutionists, particularly with his _First\nPrinciples_, _Principles of Psychology_, and _Principles of Biology_,\ngainsay the fact that organic evolution implies a _tendency_ in\norganisms _to advance_, when under the influence of physical\nconditions, from the simpler to the more complex?\n\nMr. Spencer tacitly assumes the inevitable \"becoming of all living\nthings;\" and that organic progress is a result of some indwelling\ntendency to develop, naturally impressed on living matter--some\never-acting constructive force, which, concurrently with other\nforces, moulds organisms into higher and higher forms. Many instances\nof this we might adduce, but we will quote but two. On page 403,\nof his _First Principles_, he speaks of \"a tendency toward the\ndifferentiation of each race into several races.\" And on page\n430, Vol. I. of his _Principles of Biology_, he says, \"While we\nare not called on to suppose that there exists in organisms any\nprimordial impulse which makes them continually unfold into more\nheterogeneous forms, we see that _a liability to be unfolded_ arises\nfrom the action and reaction between organisms and their fluctuating\nenvironments.\"\n\nSurely, it cannot, with any show of reason, be contended that the\nword \"liability\" is not here used as the perfect synonym of that\n\"metaphysical entity,\" the word \"tendency.\" If the concurrence of\na \"liability to be unfolded\" and the physical conditions be the\ndefinition of evolution, were we not warranted in asserting all\nthat we did, with respect to the implication of organic evolution?\nEvolution a \"metaphysical entity\"! The words seem strange. They\nsound like a contradiction in terms; and we know that it is hard to\nrealize the fact that Mr. Spencer has based his whole theory upon\n\"some aptitude.\" But can the fact be gainsaid? Do not the thoughts\nof every one who reads of a \"liability to be unfolded,\" recur to the\npage where Mr. Spencer stigmatizes such phrases as unphilosophical?\nHear again how he characterizes them. \"In whatever manner it is\nformulated, _or by whatever language it is obscured_, this ascription\nof organic evolution to some aptitude _naturally possessed_, or\nmiraculously imposed on them, is unphilosophical. It is one of those\nexplanations which explains nothing--a shaping of ignorance into\nthe semblance of knowledge.\" Every reader will, we are sure, concur\nwith us in the opinion that the evolution hypothesis is here clearly\ncondemned. The special creation theory, as here advocated, involves\nno occult factor. The physical conditions concur with reversion to\ncause the favorable modifications.\n\nWhile we do not join in such a strong protest against the use of what\nare termed \"metaphysical entities,\" as that in which positivists\nare wont to indulge, we cannot but concede that they have often\nretarded the progress of science, and directed the course of inquiry\ninto wrong channels. But the true scientist does not altogether\neschew their use; nor does science preclude his following a middle\ncourse. But that, however, against which we do most earnestly and\nmost indignantly protest is their use for the purpose of showing\nincongruity between science and religion; and their use when there\nis a perfectly legitimate alternative. The advocates of evolution\nendeavor to laugh to scorn such phrases; but, double which way they\nwill, they are forced to use them, if not in one instance, at least\nin another.\n\nWe hope, then, never again to hear \"metaphysical entities\" urged as\nan objection against the special creation theory. But we incline to\nretract that. For the positivists have become, through practice, so\nwell conversant with the phraseology peculiar to this theme, that\nthey are now capable of masterpieces of wit and eloquence. Were they,\nthrough fear of the imputation of inconsistency, to refrain from\nfurnishing the world with these, we would be debarred the pleasure of\ntheir perusal. With reluctance would we forego such opportunities of\ncultivating a delicacy of taste.\n\nIn _Appleton's Journal_ for July 31st, 1869, Mr. Spencer has declared\nthat \"the very conception of spontaneity is wholly incongruous\nwith the conception of evolution.\" Now, to our mind, the theory of\n\"spontaneous generation\" is the perfect analogue of the theory of\nevolution. We conceive that the latter theory is open to the same\nobjections which are urged by Mr. Spencer against the hypothesis\nof heterogenesis. \"No form of evolution,\" he declares, \"organic or\ninorganic, can be spontaneous, but in every instance the antecedent\nforces must be adequate in their quantities, kinds, and distributions\nto work the observed effects.\" Now, do not the alleged cases of\nevolution, equally with those of spontaneous generation, fail to\nfulfil this requirement? Does not Mr. Spencer's assumption of a\ntendency as a concurrent cause with the conditions, imply such a\nfailure? What precludes the advocates of \"spontaneous generation\"\nfrom assuming \"a liability\" in inorganic matter \"to unfold\" into\nmicroscopic organisms? Could not agenesis have resulted from\nthe concurrence of this tendency with mechanical causes? Such\nan explanation is equally open to the believers in \"spontaneous\ngeneration.\" The true _status_ of the evolution hypothesis is really\nno higher than that of the hypothesis of heterogenesis. They are both\nfounded upon similar bases.\n\nTogether with the absurdity of adducing alleged cases of necrogenesis\nas the assumed missing link in the evolution process, might also have\nbeen mentioned, by Mr. Spencer, an objection to which the experiments\nof Professor Wyman are open. It is assumed in those experiments that,\nif fully matured organisms are not able to stand a temperature above\ntwo hundred and eight degrees, their ova would be destroyed when\nsubjected to a temperature of two hundred and twelve degrees. These\nova are allowed to stand only a little over three degrees more than\na developed organism. Is this a fair supposition? Is it not to be\nexpected that, if a fully matured organism can stand a temperature\nof two hundred and eight degrees, its ova, which are almost diatomic\nin character, will sustain a temperature approaching that of\nincandescence? We trust that this digression will be pardoned.\n\nBefore treating of variation under domestication, we may take\noccasion to disclaim any attempt to account for variations of color.\nThese are not so manifestly due to degeneration and subsequent\nfavorable reversion. They accord with our theory; but as this\naccordance is not susceptible of the short and complete demonstration\nof that of all other variations, the limits of our series preclude\nour entering into a long dissertation on the subject. Nor would the\nimportance of modifications of color justify such a course; for\nDarwin characterizes them as phenomena of no consequence, and assures\nus that little attention is paid to them by naturalists.\n\nUnder domestication, animals and plants are subjected to\ncomparatively favorable conditions, to conditions of which they have\nbeen deprived in the state of nature. Thus stimulated, they display\nmarked improvement, and revert to the perfect condition from which\nthey have degenerated. The favorable changes which they present are\nnoted by man, and carefully preserved by crossing and judicious\npairing with those possessing equal advantages. In this way, the best\nare selected and made to transmit to their offspring their improved\ncondition. Each breeder's success is determined by the more or less\nfavorable conditions of the situation, district, or country, and by\nhis sagacity and discrimination in selecting those in which occurs\nthe greatest increase of size. As the conditions vary in different\nlocalities, and as breeders possess different degrees of scientific\nknowledge, animals and plants would be differently improved, and\nthus there is established a series of gradations all answering to\nthe characters of as many varieties. As we have seen, in a somewhat\nsimilar manner races have been formed under nature. They were in part\nestablished by the retention of the animal or plant in several of the\nphases of degeneration; while varieties under domestication are in\npart due to the retention of the organism at each stage of reversion.\nThe greater number of varieties under domestication, as compared\nwith the paucity of races under nature, results in a measure from\nman's selection retaining the organism at almost every gradation.\nUnder nature, the animals of a district or country freely intercross,\nand from this intercrossing results uniformity of character and the\nconsequent existence of only one race in a country. Besides, the\nconditions of life are comparatively uniform in each district; but\nunder domestication man is, by means of his scientific knowledge,\ncontinually varying the conditions.\n\nWe are conscious that this explanation accounts only for difference\nof size. It does not show how wholly different characters have been\nacquired by the various varieties; nor the cause of the possession\nof the greatest structural differences by individuals of the same\nspecies. Were this the sole process by which varieties were formed,\none variety would be merely the miniature of the other. Other\nexplanations are required to illustrate the manner in which the great\ndivergence of character observable under domestication, has been\neffected. These we shall furnish.\n\nDarwin, both in his _Origin of Species_ and in his _Animals and\nPlants under Domestication_, draws particular attention to this\ndivergence of character. It forms a most conspicuous portion of his\ntheory. It displays the gradual acquisition by individuals originally\nalike of differences as great as those characterizing species.\n\nAs Darwin has assured us, there is scarcely a single species under\nnature which does not possess organs in a rudimentary state. Now,\nthese arise under domestication, and are apportioned among the\nseveral varieties. Each organ is developed, and is allotted to a\ncertain variety, of which it forms the peculiarity. In one variety,\nspecial attention is paid to the development of a single organ,\nwhile the remaining organs are left to be developed in and to form\nthe characteristics of other varieties. Thus the upwardly-expanded\ntail in the pigeon constitutes the peculiarity characteristic of the\nfantail; the enlargement of the oesophagus, that of the pouter; and\nthe divergent feathers along the front of the neck and breast, that\nof the turbit.\n\nBy this process--the development of rudimentary organs and their\napportionment among the several varieties--a portion of the\ndivergence of character is effected.\n\nThese rudimentary organs have been the occasion of many a warm\ncontroversy. They are asserted to be totally incongruous with the\ndoctrine of teleology. Their uselessness and occasionally detrimental\nnature, it is contended, preclude the possibility of design. Several\nobjections have been urged against the doctrine of final causes;\nbut those who profess to disbelieve in design concur in according to\nthese organs the greatest prominence.\n\nThe doctrine of final causes is a conception thrust upon us by a\nvast multitude of facts from organic nature. But, now and then,\nexceptional phenomena will present themselves apparently at variance\nwith it. These, as a writer in _The London Quarterly Review_ for\nJuly, 1869, ably maintains, are merely objections, not disproofs.\nOwing to a misconception current among the advocates of special\ncreation, they have been unable to reconcile rudimentary organs\nwith the doctrine of teleology. All the attempts heretofore made to\nharmonize these anomalous features with the doctrine of final causes\nhave been feeble. We may instance one. A Mr. Paget, in his Hunterian\nLectures at the College of Surgeons, argues that the function\nof these organs is \"to withdraw from the blood some elements of\nnutrition, which, if retained in it, would be positively injurious.\"\nWe can readily appreciate the feelings which induce an evolutionist\nto smile at this assumption of excretion as the sole function and\npurpose of a rudimentary organ.\n\nUpon the theory of degeneration and subsequent favorable reversion\nhere propounded, these rudimentary organs are quite congruous with\nthe doctrine of final cause. To obviate the difficulty presented\nby these parts, we have accepted the interpretation of the\nevolutionist. This interpretation we adopted at the start. It forms\nthe basis of our theory--its foundation-stone. That for which the\nevolutionist contends is, that these organs have at one period been\nfully developed. In this we concurred; for it furnished us with an\nexplanation of the favorable modifications under domestication;\nwhile, as we shall show, it is by no means at variance with the\ndoctrine of the immutability of the species. Rudimentary organs imply\ndegeneration, past complexity of structure, and present comparative\nsimplicity of structure; facts at variance with evolution, but\nstrictly in accordance with our theory. We have seen that the\nidea of the normal nature of the existing natural condition has\nrendered the advocates of special creation unable to account for\nthe appearance of profitable modifications. The seeming incongruity\nbetween rudimentary organs and the doctrine of teleology is a\nresult of the same misconception. A curious confusion of ideas,\ngenerated by the assumption of this false position, has urged the\nopponents of evolution tacitly to contend that animals and plants\nwere originally created with these organs in a rudimentary state,\nand that the present condition of these parts is a normal one. We,\nconcurrently with the evolutionists, recognize in these organs\n\"traces of old laws\"--\"records of the past.\" They are the traces of\nlaws which obtained when the conditions were favorable to the full\ndevelopment of the organs. Under domestication, the conditions are\nbeing supplied, and the organs are, in consequence, being developed.\nOn page 386 of his _Principles of Biology_, Mr. Herbert Spencer\nsays, \"And then to complete the proof that these undeveloped parts\nare marks of descent from races in which they were developed, there\nare not a few direct experiences of this relation. 'We have plenty\nof cases of rudimentary organs in our domestic productions--as the\nstump of a tail in tailless breeds--the vestige of an ear in ear-less\nbreeds--the reappearance of minute dangling horns in hornless breeds\nof cattle.'\"\n\nBut together with their being traces of old laws, they are traces\nof laws which so far adhere to the present that the laws of the\nwhole organism fail fully to obtain without their concurrence; and\ntheir concurrence is consequent solely upon the full development of\nthese rudimental features. In other words, full perfection consists\nin the perfect co\u00f6rdination of all the parts, and absence of this\nco\u00f6rdination suffices to throw the organism within the domain of\npathology. The reduction, therefore, of any organ to a rudimentary\ncondition is deleterious to the organism as a whole. We are perfectly\naware that this needs something more than gratuitous affirmation; but\nas the adduction of evidence in this place would be inconsistent with\nthe symmetry and continuity of our argument, we are forced to bespeak\nour readers' indulgence until the publication of the next article of\nthis series. But it is sufficiently clear that, upon assuming the\ntruth of our theory, the difficulty offered to the doctrine of final\ncauses by rudimentary organs is obviated.\n\nIt is manifest that the development of rudimentary organs, with\ntheir distribution among the several varieties, is but a partial\nexplanation of the great divergence of character. There remain to be\nshown, then, other processes by which this has been effected.\n\nDivergence of character has been also caused by the development in\ndifferent varieties of those parts which have been only partially\nsuppressed under nature. This necessarily causes disproportionate\ndevelopment of the characters in the individuals. Proportionate\ndevelopment would occur if all the features of the animal or plant\nwere subjected to equally favorable conditions, and if they were all\nimpartially cared for by man. Convergence of character would thence\nresult. And this convergence of character is at first sight to be\nexpected. For if an animal or plant has, as we have seen, diverged\nin character under nature, and then reverts under domestication\nto the original perfect type, that which is to be anticipated is\nconvergence of character. But some part presents a modification in\nadvance of its fellows. This man seizes and makes it the peculiarity\nof a certain variety. By the careful conservation and judicious\nmating of those individuals which display a tendency to diverge in\nthe same direction, and of those which tend least to develop new\ncharacters, he preserves the type of the variety. Modifications\narising in other points of structure are similarly preserved by other\nbreeders, and characterize other varieties. When a variety is marked\nby a certain peculiarity, the fancier or breeder looks with a jealous\neye upon the acquisition by any individual of any new character, even\nthough it be for the better. When, therefore, any individual of a\nwell-established variety displays a tendency toward the production\nof a new character, it is systematically suppressed. \"Sports\" are\nregarded with disfavor by the fancier or breeder, and rejected as\nblemishes, because they tend to destroy uniformity of character among\nthe members of the variety. Owing to these and similar causes, in\neach variety a different point of structure is admired, selected, and\nattended to, and exclusive attention given to its development, to the\nneglect of the others. All the features are not developed in the same\nvariety, but are distributed among different varieties. Thus, in the\ncarrier-pigeon the length of the beak is the character particularly\nattended to; in the barb, quantity of eye-wattle; and in the runt,\nthe weight and size of the body.\n\nIn this way is effected the disproportionate development upon which\ndivergence of character is consequent. Darwin shows this, with this\ndifference: he believes that the modifications arise by evolution,\nwhile we contend that they arise by reversion. Nor does he concur\nwith us in the use of the term \"disproportionate development;\" for\nthat implies that the presence of all the parts in an individual is\nnecessary to perfection. But he shows the process to be the same, be\nthe law to which the variations conform what it may. On page 245,\nVol. II., he says, \"Man propagates and selects modifications for\nhis own use and fancy, and not for the creature's own good.\" And\non page 220 he asserts, \"that whatever part or character is most\nvalued--whether the leaves, stems, bulbs, tubers, flowers, fruit, or\nseed of plants, or the size, strength, fleetness, hairy covering, or\nintellect of animals--that character will most invariably be found to\npresent the greatest amount of difference both in kind and degree.\"\n\nStrong confirmation of this view that divergence of character is\nattributable to disproportionate development may be drawn from\nthe fact that those species in which is observable the greatest\ndivergence of character are those whose breeding is directed by fancy\nor fashion. Where utility guides selection, there an approximation to\nconvergence of character is seen; but where selection is guided by\nfancy, there is a very strongly-marked tendency toward divergence.\nIn the formation of varieties, fancy nowhere enters as such a\npredominating element as it does in the breeding of pigeons; and\nconsequently, nowhere else is seen such great divergence. Darwin is\never directing attention to this. On page 220, Vol. I., he dwells\nupon it with peculiar emphasis. The converse fact is also seen.\nWith cattle, the object of breeders is not the formation of numerous\nvarieties, but merely the improvement of the animals. An objective\nmode of treatment is here identical with a subjective mode. And here\nwe have comparatively proportionate development, and a consequent\napproach to convergence of character. After citing convergence of\ncharacter in the case of pigs, Darwin says, (Vol. II., page 241,) \"We\nsee some degree of convergence in the similar outline of the body in\nwell-bred cattle belonging to distinct races.\"\n\nIn the foregoing description of the processes of formation of\ndomesticated varieties, we have assumed reversion as the cause of\nmodifications. We have occasion now to speak of a process which\nimplies a cause that is not reversion. Varieties are formed, and\ndisproportionate development and divergence of character effected, by\nman's continuing the process of degeneration commenced under nature.\nSeveral illustrations of this we will adduce.\n\nIn the tumbler-pigeon, the beak is greatly reduced, and, by\ncorrelation, the feet have become of a size so small as to be barely\ncompatible with the bird's existence. Its skull is scarce one half\nthe size of the wild rock-pigeon, its progenitor; and the number of\nthe vertebr\u00e6 has lessened. The ribs are only seven in number, whereas\nthe rock-pigeon has eight. The peculiarity characteristic of this\nvariety is confessedly due to degeneration. We refer to the habit\nof tumbling which Darwin attributes to disease--to \"an affection of\nthe brain.\" (P. 153.) Other varieties of the pigeon also owe some of\ntheir characters to degeneration. In the barb, the beak is .02 of\nan inch shorter than in the wild rock-pigeon. Important characters\nhave correspondingly deteriorated. Darwin, speaking of domesticated\npigeons, says, \"We may confidently admit that the length of the\nsternum, and frequently the prominence of its crest, the length of\nthe scapula and furcula have all been reduced in size in comparison\nwith the same parts in the rock-pigeon.\"\n\nPigs present several cases of deterioration of parts under\ndomestication. Through protection from the climate, the coat of\nbristles has been greatly diminished. By disuse and man's selection,\nthe legs have become of a size scarcely compatible with the animal's\npower of locomotion. Darwin requests us to \"hear what an excellent\njudge of pigs says, 'The legs should be no longer than just to\nprevent the animal's belly from trailing on the ground. The leg is\nthe least profitable portion of the hog, and we therefore require\nno more of it than is absolutely necessary for the support of the\nrest.'\" Fully to realize the extreme shortness of the legs, it is\nnecessary to see them in the possession of a highly improved breed.\nCorrelation with the legs has led to the complete reduction of the\ntusks, and has induced the shortness and concavity of the front of\nthe head which are so characteristic of domestic breeds.\n\nWith pigs, there is disproportionate development and also convergence\nof character. This is owing to all the breeders having aimed at the\nsame object, the reduction of the characters given above, and the\nfull development of the trunk or body. On page 73, Vol. I., Darwin\nsays, \"Nathusius has remarked, and the observation is an interesting\none, that the peculiar form of the skull and body in the most\nhighly cultivated races is not characteristic of any one race, but\nis common to all when improved up to the same standard. Thus the\nlarge-bodied, long-eared, English breeds with a convex back, and the\nsmall-bodied, short-eared Chinese breeds, with a concave back, when\nbred to the same state of perfection, nearly resemble each other in\nthe form of the head and body. This result, it appears, is partly\ndue to similar causes of change acting on the several races, and\npartly to man breeding the pig for one sole purpose, namely, for\nthe greatest amount of flesh and fat; so that selection has always\ntended toward one and the same end. With most domestic animals,\nthe result of selection has been divergence of character, here it\nhas been convergence.\" Divergence of character is solely caused\nby disproportionate development, and proportionate development\nin all the members of the species necessarily causes convergence\nof character; but disproportionate development may also induce\nconvergence, as it has done in this case.\n\nDegeneration has also been the means of the formation of breeds of\ncattle, as the niata cattle, and those distinguished by the complete\nsuppression of the horns.\n\nTailless breeds of animals have been formed; among which may be\nmentioned the rumpless fowl, and tailless cats and dogs.\n\nEars in other animals have been reduced to mere vestiges.\n\nDegeneration is also seen in the great deterioration in size of\ndogs. The turn-spit dog is manifestly a case of degeneration.\nBlumenbach remarks \"that many dogs, such as the badger-dog, have\na build so marked and appropriate for particular purposes, that I\nshould find it difficult to persuade myself that this astonishing\nfigure was an accidental consequence of degeneration.\" \"But,\"\nsays Darwin, \"had Blumenbach reflected on the great principle of\nselection, he would not have used the term degeneration, and he\nwould not have been astonished that dogs and other animals should\nhave become excellently adapted for the service of man.\" (Vol. II.,\npage 220.) It is difficult to conceive why Darwin here ignores the\nfact of degeneration. The peculiar build of the badger-dog is not an\naccidental consequence of degeneration. But it is equally far removed\nfrom being the product solely of selection. Degeneration is not the\nless present because of the operation of selection. Could the two not\nact concurrently? It is clearly manifest that it is the joint action\nof degeneration and selection which accomplishes the appropriateness\nfor particular purposes, and not either alone. Selection, in such a\ncase as this, merely guides the course of degeneration. Unfavorable\nmodifications occur, and such of them as best subserve the uses and\npurposes of man, he selects and preserves; the rest he rejects. Thus\nresults the adaptation of these animals to the service of man.\n\nWith some fowls, the comb has been lost. The Sebright bantam, which\nis one of the greatest triumphs of selection, weighs hardly more than\none pound, and has lost its hackles, sickle-tail feathers, and other\nsecondary sexual characters.\n\nThe Porto Santo rabbit differs in size from the wild English rabbit,\nits progenitor, in the proportion of rather less than five to nine.\n\nThe crooked and shortened legs of the Ancon sheep of New England,\nfrequently referred to by Darwin, also displayed the action of\ndegeneration. This is a case which shows that disproportionate\ndevelopment in a single variety will produce divergence in the\nspecies, even when there is great proportionate development in the\nother varieties.\n\n\"With cultivated plants,\" says Darwin, \"it is far from rare to find\nthe petals, stamens, and pistils represented by mere rudiments, like\nthose observed in natural species.\" (P. 316.) The Red Bush Alpine\nstrawberry is destitute of stolons or runners. In the St. Valery\napple, the stamens and corolla are reduced to a rudimentary state.\nIt has, consequently, to be fertilized by artificial means. This is\neffected by the maidens of St. Valery, each of whom marks her fruit\nwith a ribbon of a certain color, and fertilizes it with the pollen\nof adjacent trees.\n\nThus we have four processes of formation of varieties. 1st. The\nretention of the organism at each stage of reversion, accounting\nonly for differences of size. 2d. The development of rudimentary\norgans and their apportionment among the several varieties. 3d. The\ndevelopment in different varieties of those parts which have been\nonly partially suppressed under nature. 4th. The continuation under\ndomestication of the process of degeneration commenced under nature.\n\nNow, we conceive that, by showing the phenomena of variation to be\nconformable to the theory of degeneration and reversion, and by\nproving the unscientific nature of the assumption of evolution, we\nhave fulfilled the promise made by us at the start. Even as the case\nnow stands, the theory of special creations must commend itself to\nevery truly scientific mind. But it is not our design to leave the\nsubject a mere question of probabilities. It lies within our power to\nprove the doctrine of special creations to demonstration; to place\nour theory upon evidence beyond the reach of cavil.\n\nTo the mind of every reader accustomed to scientific habits of\nthought, it is clear that our next step is to adduce proofs of our\nbelief that the development of all the parts in every individual is\nnecessary to perfection. In this direction we shall push the subject,\nand we now affirm that there is a typical structure--the sum of all\nthe positive features of the species.\n\nWith a full appreciation of the magnitude and importance of the act,\nwe advance the following definition of a species.\n\n_A species is a class of organisms, capable of indefinitely\ncontinued, fertile reproduction among each other, and endowed with\nthe possession--either actual or potential--of character; the\nsuppression, reduction, or disproportionate development of which is\nincompatible with a state of physiological integrity._\n\n\n\n\nA HERO, OR A HEROINE?\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\nTHE LION'S DEN.\n\nDr. James invited Margaret to visit \"the shop,\" and one day, after\nreturning a few calls in Sealing, she stopped, with her aunt,\non their way home, at a plain brown house in the one street of\nShellbeach. There were two square pieces of green, one on each side\nof the front door, shut in with a brown fence; the small door seemed\nquite covered up, for, besides a large shining knocker in the middle,\nthere was above it a brass plate, on which was inscribed \"Dr. James,\"\nin large letters. There also appeared a small bell on one side, and\nanother opposite labelled \"night-bell.\" Which of these advantages\nto improve, was at first rather a puzzle to Margaret; but her aunt\nsettled the question by giving a smart pull to the right-hand bell,\nwhence she concluded that the knocker, on which she had meditated an\nattack, was intended solely for unprofitable ornament.\n\nA tall and thin young man, who had the appearance of having outgrown\nall his clothes, opened the door with a promptness which seemed to\nimply that he had been lying in wait for the favorable moment to\npounce upon them, and which was a little startling to the ladies. He\nsurveyed them both with interest, explained that the doctor was not\nat home, but was expected in, and proposed that they should walk into\nthe parlor and wait. Having ushered them into that apartment, the\nyouth discreetly withdrew.\n\n\"My dear aunt, what a forlorn room! And do you see the dust?\"\n\nMiss Spelman shook her head in a mournful manner, and proceeded to\nestablish herself on a black horsehair couch, (having first gently\nflapped it with her handkerchief,) while Margaret walked about from\none thing to another, commenting and criticising.\n\n\"This is where he sits to write, I suppose. And if here isn't a\nfamily of three little kittens curled up in his arm-chair! I hope he\nwon't mistake them for a cushion, that's all! What piles of books!\nMedicine, medicine, medicine! Oh! here is something of a different\nkind; poetry! who would have imagined it? Shelley, Longfellow,\nTennyson. How many nice things! This bookcase is filled with\ntreasures. The dust can't get in there, that's a comfort! And this\nis a family portrait, I suppose; a lady with one, two, three, six\nchildren. How funny and old-fashioned it is! Here are his pipe and\nsmoking-cap; oh! do see these funny skin slippers;\" and she balanced\none on each hand. \"How I would like to rummage here! Oh! there are\nsleigh-bells.\" And Margaret established herself, prim and proper, in\none of the hard, straight-backed chairs just as Dr. James entered. He\ngave them a pleasant welcome, and conducted them at once into \"the\nshop.\"\n\n\"It's a good time to look about here,\" he observed, \"while John is\ngone with the mare. The shop is his especial sanctum, and I think he\nregards visitors as interlopers.\"\n\nThere was no dust to be seen in that room; every thing was scrubbed\nand brushed till it shone, and absolute neatness reigned.\n\n\"This does not look to me like a shop,\" said Margaret.\n\n\"I can't say I deal in 'slippery-ellum,' 'stick-licorish,' and\n'gum-arrabac-drops,'\" replied the doctor; \"if you want the real\nname, this is a dispensary on a small scale. You see, I have no\nfaith in Mr. Creamer, in Sealing, further than for simple doses.\nYou might buy essence of peppermint or tincture of rhubarb of him,\nto great advantage; but as for compounding pills and powders, I\nprefer to attend to those myself. Then it is a convenience to some\nof my patients, who can make a visit to the doctor and obtain their\nremedies at one and the same time.\"\n\nAt these words, Miss Spelman gave her niece a little nudge, as they\nstood side by side, and looked, as the saying is, volumes; but\nMargaret did not understand, and wondered what her aunt could mean.\n\n\"And who is John?\" she asked.\n\n\"Oh! John is my factotum; as much a part of myself as the shop is.\nYou see he stays here when I am away, and goes on errands; he keeps\nevery thing nice, and can be trusted with simple prescriptions; in\nreturn for which, I impart to him a little medical knowledge; so we\nstand both amicably in each other's debt, which leads to an excellent\nunderstanding between us.\"\n\nAgain Margaret felt herself gently poked; but being as completely in\nthe dark as ever, she was forced to wait for an explanation till a\nfuture time. They admired all the arrangements, till John's return,\nwhen the doctor led them back into the parlor, where, the fire having\nbeen stirred up and the curtains drawn so as to admit the sun, the\naspect of things was more cheerful. Margaret once more admired the\nkittens and books, and accepted the doctor's offer to lend from the\nlatter, by borrowing Miss Procter's poems, in blue and gold, which\nshe espied on a high shelf.\n\nOn their drive homeward, Margaret said,\n\n\"Why did you punch me, Aunt Selina? Was I misbehaving?\"\n\n\"No, indeed! I only wanted you to notice what the doctor was saying.\nWhat was it?\"\n\n\"The first time was when he said his patients could visit him and get\ntheir remedies at the same time.\"\n\n\"Yes, just his benevolence. Those are his poor patients, you see, for\nwhom he has set up that dispensary; he gives them advice and medicine\nfree.\"\n\n\"But then he must have money.\"\n\n\"So he has, a little; but he uses up every cent and more; for he\nsends some to his mother and sister, and takes ever so much care of\nthe poor for miles around.\"\n\n\"But he must have fees from his rich patients; you told me he was as\npopular at Sealing as here.\"\n\n\"Certainly they pay him; but he does not encourage a large practice\nin Sealing, for there is a very good doctor living there, with a wife\nand family. So though Dr. James visits a few patients in Sealing,\nthey are almost all people who used to live here, and are now not\nwilling to give him up. But his fees could not begin to enable him to\ndo all he does, if he had not something of his own.\"\n\n\"The second time you admonished me was when he spoke of his boy.\"\n\nMiss Spelman laughed contemptuously.\n\n\"It was exactly like him to speak as if that matter was a\ngive-and-take affair! The fact is, the boy's mother, a widow, took\nit into her head, like all mothers, that her son was something\nremarkable, and ought to be sent to college; of course without a\npenny to do it with. She disclosed her mind to Dr. James, and the\nend of it was, that he has taken him clean off her hands, gives him\na nice little salary for the work he does in the dispensary, and is\neducating him, besides, to be a first-rate physician; and I suppose\nwhen the doctor goes away from this town, young Richards will just\nstep into his place and have it all his own way. I know all this, you\nsee, because I know the mother. The doctor never breathed a word of\nit, you may be sure; but she told me all about it. And this is what\nDr. James calls a mutual-benefit society, or something of the sort.\"\n\nMargaret laughed; but she was not disposed to praise or admire the\ndoctor, chiefly because she was aware that her aunt expected and\nwished her to do so. She listened attentively, however, to this,\nand as much more information as Miss Spelman chose to volunteer\nabout her favorite, now and then putting in a doubtful question, or\nslightly depreciatory remark, which only elicited fresh praises;\nuntil sometimes the little lady would dimly perceive the game her\nniece was playing, and retire into silence and dignity.\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\nSTUDY OF HUMAN NATURE.\n\nA month had gone, Margaret was astonished to find how quickly. She\nwas contented and happy; interested, too, in her various occupations,\nand, except for missing Jessie's sympathy and companionship, feeling\nno regret for her former life. Such a state of things would have been\nimpossible, had she not been utterly wearied with the whirl of gayety\nand the accumulation of engagements which seemed to her unavoidable\nwhile she remained in New York. But the complete change was reviving\nto her, and, as she said, she had taken up the study of human nature,\nwhich really meant that she had become interested in one person,\nand that person was Dr. James. She saw him a good deal; for he came\nfreely to Miss Spelman's house, he had taken her sleigh-riding,\naccompanied her on expeditions in search of coasting or skating,\nplayed chess with her, and lent her books.\n\nSince that occasion, on their first drive to Sealing, when \"the\nmistress of a poor man's household\" had been alluded to, that ideal\nperson was frequently spoken of with considerable enjoyment of the\njoke by both parties, and once Margaret had asked him outright, what\nhe would consider necessary accomplishments in such a person.\n\n\"I don't know that a poor doctor's wife would differ from the wife\nof any other poor man,\" he had answered her. \"I have in my mind a\nwoman not afraid of work, not requiring amusement nor excitement,\nable to do her own work; you see I say _able_--not that I would\nobject to her having a servant, or perhaps two; but she should\nunderstand and be able to explain and direct all the domestic\narrangements of the house. She should wait on herself; therefore her\ndress should be plain and simple. Especially should she know how to\ncook and sew, to market well, and to be considerate and cheerful to\nher servants. Then, as concerns my professional business, I should\nthink a slight acquaintance with simple medicines and remedies, and\nwhere they are kept in the shop, in case of emergency, would be\nuseful; fortitude to bear the sight of, and even to suffer, pain and\nsickness, so as to set a good example; and, to sum up, a cool head, a\nsteady hand, and presence of mind.\"\n\nWhen Dr. James had ended this minute description, he was struck by\nthe extent of his requirements; and as Margaret's eye met his, they\nboth laughed heartily, and though at the time she made no comment\non his ideal poor man's wife, she often alluded to her virtues\nafterward, before other people, who, of course, could not understand\nwhat she meant, while the doctor, she was delighted to see, was\nslightly embarrassed and at a loss for a reply.\n\nMargaret had seen a little of the Sealing society at a few\ntea-parties, which aimed at being so genteel that they were\ninsufferably stiff and drowsy. Margaret longed to do something to\nwake up the young men, who, dressed in their best, with the stiffest\nof collars and the most surprising cravats, sat with folded hands\nand feet placed close together, helplessly, just where they happened\nto be put, without daring to do more than assent in as few words as\npossible to the stream of conversation kept up by the ladies, who\nseemed to consider it the business of the evening to entertain them.\nShe very nearly proposed \"blind-man's buff\" on one occasion, but her\ncourage failed her at the last moment; she thought it would be a\nhopeless undertaking to attempt to infuse life and activity into such\nfrozen figures. At last, one young woman, named Mary Searle, gave a\nsmall party, and had the independence to propose playing games; and\nwhen Margaret warmly seconded the movement, and set the example by\nsuggesting \"fox and geese,\" she was astonished to behold every body\nbecome at once natural and merry. The young men were metamorphosed,\nforgot their feet and hands, and performed wonders of agility.\nIt dawned upon Margaret that all this restraint must have been\noccasioned wholly by her presence, and she did her best to dispel\nall respect for \"city ways\" by showing that she could romp with the\nmerriest. The evening ended with a Virginia-reel, and from that time\nthe ice was broken, and Margaret saw the people in their pleasantest\nlight--without affectation, simple, kindly, and cheerful. But of\n\"society\" she saw little; the Sealing young ladies complained that\nshe was not \"sociable,\" though when they were with her they got on\nvery well; she said she was \"too busy\" to visit much, and so managed\nto keep a good deal to herself.\n\nOf Martha Burney, however, she saw a good deal, and before long\nmade an arrangement to drive her every morning to her school. The\nMarchioness had come, and Margaret had hired a little sleigh for her\nown use and pleasure.\n\n\"You see I have to get up early now, for my drive with Miss Burney,\"\nshe explained to the doctor; for she was anxious that he should not\nthink she was trying to please him. After leaving her companion, who\nreturned in the afternoon by the cars, she sometimes stopped for her\norgan lesson, and sometimes came directly home, where she practised,\nor shut herself up to study Latin. This latter, however, was a\nsecret. The day she visited Dr. James's dispensary, she had noticed\nLatin names on his jars and vials, and had then and there decided in\nher own mind that some acquaintance with Latin would be indispensable\nto \"a poor doctor's wife.\" So she had bought a dictionary, grammar,\nand one or two Latin books, and now worked laboriously in private,\nevery day, while in the afternoons she walked, drove, or read with\nher aunt.\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\nAN AWAKENING.\n\nOne Sunday evening, Dr. James was sitting in Miss Spelman's pleasant\nparlor; she was dozing in her chair by the fire, and Margaret sat on\na little sofa near her. There had come a long pause, such as very\noften came on Sunday evenings, and on this occasion the doctor had\nbeen more abstracted and inattentive than usual. He sat by the table\nin an arm-chair, studying the fire with a troubled face, and Margaret\nwatched him and wondered what was wrong. At last he started and said,\nas their eyes met,\n\n\"Miss Lester, pardon me. I believe I am very rude; I have a good\ndeal on my mind, and when you stop speaking, my thoughts go off to\nsomething I cannot forget.\"\n\nHe paused a moment, and then, before she could answer him, went on.\n\"They talk about a doctor's becoming callous, and indifferent to pain\nand suffering; I wish it were more true! Of course there are certain\nthings which, when we have seen them borne well and bravely by some,\nwe expect others to meet in the same way, and so seem unfeeling and\nunsympathizing when folks make a great fuss about them.\n\n\"When, however, I see people really suffering and in want, it makes\nme sick at heart, and I cannot forget it. There is a family a couple\nof miles out of the east end of this town who are in great trouble,\nand I don't see what can help them out of it.\" He stopped abruptly\nand stared at the fire again.\n\n\"Dr. James, do you suppose I am not interested? Go on quickly, and\ntell me the rest; for perhaps I can help these poor people.\"\n\nHe looked at her earnestly and continued,\n\n\"The husband is a shoemaker; a good fellow, though thriftless. It is\nthe old story; want of work, a sick wife, a large family, rent due,\nand the wolf at the door. I have been to several people; but money\nseems very scarce just now, and more is needed than I can raise for\nthem. My own funds are very low, and some kind people suggest the\npoor-house at Sealing for them; but that would break their spirit; so\nI can't bear to think of it.\"\n\n\"Why, Dr. James! of course I can help them. Why did you not come to\nme before? Cannot we go to-night and pay the rent, and take them what\nthey need?\"\n\n\"To-morrow will do for them; if you like, however, I can take the\nrent to Mr. Brown to-night. Perhaps you will sleep better for it; I\nknow I shall. To-morrow you can drive there, and do what you think\nbest for them.\"\n\nMargaret's sympathy seemed very consoling to the doctor, and he\ntalked to her freely of the state of the poor people with whom he\ncame in contact. He said he had to see so much misery he could not\npossibly relieve, that it was a constant weight on his mind; it\nhaunted him like a ghost; and even when warm and comfortable himself,\nhe could not forget those wants which he so desired to relieve but\ncould not. Then the people in the neighborhood rendered him but\nlittle assistance; for they either did not realize, or else were\nindifferent to the destitution of their neighbors.\n\nDr. James had never before opened his mind to Margaret as he did that\nevening. He spoke of his intense sympathy with the poor, simply and\nas a matter of course; and every word conveyed to her a reproach,\nfor it made her conscious of her own selfishness and hardness of\nheart. Though she had always given freely, when asked, to fairs and\nsubscriptions, and to charity collectors, she had done so, as she now\nsaw, out of her abundance, and with a cold heart. How much thought\nhad she ever given to the sufferings of the poor? What had she ever\ndone to relieve them? Yet here was a man whose whole life was devoted\nto helping and healing his fellow-creatures, and who reproached\nhimself for enjoying the simplest comforts so long as others were\nwithout them. A whole mine of new thoughts seemed opened in her mind;\nshe longed to be alone; and when Dr. James had left her, after warmly\ngrasping the hand that had given him the rent for his poor family,\nshe said good-night to her aunt as early as possible, and going to\nher own room, she thought long and regretfully of the past, and\nformed a firm resolution to live more nobly for the future.\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\nUNEXPECTED ADVICE.\n\nThe next morning, after driving Martha Burney to Sealing as usual,\nMargaret filled her sleigh with good things at the grocery and\nprovision stores and then made her way, by the directions Dr. James\nhad given her, to the house of John McNally, the poor man of whom\nhe had spoken. She found the distress quite as great as she had\nexpected, and would not have known what to do first, had she not\nfound there a woman from the neighborhood who was endeavoring to\nassist the sick wife. This woman at once made gruel and tea, and put\naway the provisions in their proper places, while Margaret collected\naround her the children, who were half starving, and distributed\namong them a plentiful supply of bread and butter, to which she\nafterward added a dessert of oranges and candy.\n\nPoor John looked on as though it were all a dream, and watched\nMargaret's every movement as he would those of a good fairy, till,\nshe turning to him, said kindly,\n\n\"Will you not sit down and have some breakfast? Perhaps this friend\nof yours will cook some steak for you.\"\n\nThen he mechanically sat down on a chair near the table, and\ncovering his face with his hands, strove to hide tears of joy that\ntrickled down his cheeks. Margaret went into the chamber and sat\nby the wife, who was sitting up in bed drinking her gruel, while\nSusan, the friend, went to cook the steak, the savory smell of which\nsoon filled the little house. Margaret left them with a promise to\nreturn the next day; but before she went, she put into John's hand\na twenty-dollar bill, bidding him get every thing that his wife and\nfamily needed.\n\nWhat a happy day that was for Margaret! She felt so light-hearted\nand joyous that she could hardly attend to her usual duties; but she\nendeavored to study and practise the regular number of hours, saying\nto herself, \"If I am going to do good every day, I must not let it\ninterfere with every thing else.\" In the afternoon she would not go\nout; she was sure the doctor would come, and she could not afford to\nmiss his call. So Miss Selina took one of her friends to drive, and\nMargaret sat at home waiting. Tea-time came and her aunt returned,\nand still the visitor she expected had not appeared; at length, as\nthey left the table, sleigh-bells were heard, and the doctor opened\nthe hall door.\n\n\"There is a lovely moon, Miss Lester; can you not wrap yourself up\nand take a short drive with me?\"\n\nShe hastened to get her hood, muff, and shawl, and in a few moments\nwas flying over the frozen ground, in and out of the white moonlight\nand the dark shadows, the sleigh-bells ringing gayly, and her own\nheart beating fast with joy.\n\nDr. James was the first to speak.\n\n\"You can't think what a pleasure it has been to me all day, to think\nof those poor people relieved from their trouble and wretchedness; I\nam sure it has been a happiness to you also. The poor things consider\nyour help as a direct interposition of providence, and I must say\nthey seem full of gratitude rather to God than to you. They appear to\nconsider you as merely a secondary cause of their relief.\"\n\n\"That is right enough, Dr. James; I owe a great deal more to them\nthan they to me; I was never so happy before in my life.\"\n\n\"I can well believe it. But I must tell you something, Miss Lester,\nthat may diminish your satisfaction a little; which I would not\nmention, however, if I did not think it would be useful in the\nfuture. What you did for the family was, in the main, excellent; but\nyou remember I told you McNally was thriftless! Well, the sum of\nmoney you put into his hands was too large; when he went to Sealing\nfor medicine and things for his wife, some idle fellows got hold of\nhim, and the consequence was, I found him reeling about the street\nthis afternoon, with a small bottle of medicine in his pocket, and\nall his money gone. I took him home, and administered the medicine to\nhis wife myself; it was useless to speak to him then, but to-morrow\nI am going there to talk to him as he deserves, for he has not been\ndrunk before for months.\"\n\n\"Why, I have done more harm than good.\"\n\n\"Not so bad as that, I am sure; you were injudicious, and a great\ndeal too lavish in your bounty.\"\n\n\"Dr. James, it seemed to me very little to leave, when so much was\nneeded; I quite congratulated myself on my prudence.\"\n\n\"It was a great deal of money for a poor man to have in his pocket.\nIn almost all such cases the wife is the one to intrust with the\nmoney; she knows for what it is most needed, and makes it go as far\nas it can; but the best way of all, I think, is to find out, by\ninteresting yourself, what are the wants of the poor, and supply them\nby your personal care. When you have time, you might go and talk with\nRose--that is the wife--and, if you like, give her what she needs.\"\n\n\"I am glad you told me this, Dr. James; it will teach me to be wiser\nnext time. You see I am wholly inexperienced, for I never did any\nthing of the kind before in my life. Now I am determined to try\nagain. Can't you tell me of another case of distress among your\npatients?\"\n\n\"Not at present, I believe, though, for that matter, I believe\nthere is no want of poor people at any time. Miss Lester, excuse my\nasking you; do you want to do good systematically, and practically,\nand perseveringly, or is this only a passing enthusiasm, which will\nvanish when the novelty ceases?\"\n\n\"Dr. James, if I do good perseveringly, as you say, I suppose the\nexcitement will wear off, and it will become a very matter-of-fact,\nunromantic business, perhaps even tedious and inconvenient; still, I\nhave thought about it all to-day, and I have made up my mind to help\nas many people as I can. So long as I remain here, it shall be one of\nmy occupations.\"\n\n\"Very well, then; and for the direction of practical, systematic good\nworks, I advise you to go to the Catholic priest.\"\n\n\"What! to that fat man with the red face, who laughs so loud?\"\n\n\"Ah Miss Lester! if you had a little more medical knowledge, you\nwould be aware that natural temperament is in itself enough to\naccount for the corpulence of some people, to say nothing of the\nsedentary life a priest generally leads; and in finding fault with\nthat laugh, you touch on a tender point; for it is, in my eyes, one\nof Father Barry's shining virtues. It is the 'being jolly' under all\ncircumstances, and in spite of every thing adverse and difficult,\nwhich makes this obscure country priest a great man. Think of his\nlife! What can be more laborious, more self-sacrificing, more\nill-paid, thankless and disheartening? And look at his face! My\ndear Miss Lester, he is an educated man, and yet his intercourse is\nentirely with the rude and ignorant poor of this most bigoted of\nplaces. He is cut off from all those who profess to be people of\neducation here, and who look down on him with contempt and suspicion,\nbecause they cannot even conceive what a life of devotion and\nself-sacrifice means. What could have induced him to choose such a\nlife, liable to be condemned to such a place and such a people, I do\nnot understand.\"\n\n\"Think of your own life, Dr. James.\"\n\n\"Ay, there it is; I often think of the two lives, and naturally\ncompare them. Now, see the difference: I choose this place for\nmyself, and shall stay here as long or as short a time as I see fit;\nhe, as I understand it, is placed here by his bishop, for a year or\nfor his lifetime, he knows not which. Then, I work among these people\nbecause it makes me contented, and because I cannot bear to see\nmisery and not relieve it. But he, strange to say, is not moved by a\nspirit of active benevolence only, or even chiefly, so far as I can\njudge; for he believes human suffering to be the penalty of sin; a\npenalty which must be paid--therefore, better paid in this life than\nin the life to come; and when I say to him, 'Then why do you do good\nto every one within your reach?' he answers, 'For the love of God.'\"\n\n\"Strange!\" Margaret answered, feeling that he expected her to say\nsomething, but with her mind occupied, it must be confessed, rather\nwith her companion's character than with that of the priest.\n\n\"Yes, you see he is as far removed from mere philanthropy as he\ncan be, and yet I know of no life so useful as his; mine grows dim\nbeside it. Then, again, when I compare our lives, he has none of that\nself-approval, or rather self-complacency, which is the staff and\nsupport of mine.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Just what I say. Of course I know that my work is a good and useful\none, and that I do it well. I know, moreover, that there are not many\nmen of my age and abilities who would consent to live such a life\nas mine. Hence I feel at times a self-satisfaction which is to me\ninspiration, and strength, and refreshment. On the contrary, Father\nBarry, though his life appears to me crowded with good works, seems\nto fear that if he should die now his hands would be found empty.\nHis life differs from mine in its motive: he acts from religious\nprinciple, while I help the poor only because it makes me wretched\nto see suffering without trying to relieve it. You see I talk to him\nfreely; I meet him a good deal among my patients, and we have done\nsome good turns for each other. I go to see him, and when he is not\nbusy, often sit with him of an evening; and he is the best company\nI know. But I have been so engrossed by my own reflections that I\nforgot I was giving you advice; by all means if you want to bestow\nrelief where it is most needed, ask his assistance.\n\n\"Why not the minister here, or at Sealing?\"\n\n\"Dr. Thorndike here is, as you know, an old man, too old and infirm\nto visit much; he could not help you; and Mr. Sparks, at Sealing,\nhas a large family, a wife who is always delicate, and a small\nsalary. Poor fellow! he means to do his duty; but his only servant\nis a little girl, and after a wakeful night, walking up and down\nwith the baby, he has to see to the furnace fire, split the wood,\nand do 'chores' generally. Then he has his sermons to write, his\nparishioners to visit, and little tea-drinkings to grace with\nhis presence; of all of which duties I admit he acquits himself\nirreproachably. He is, in fact, quite a model parson, and so, I\nassure you, he is considered at Sealing; but, as you may imagine, he\nhas little time for miscellaneous visiting among the poor. Indeed, he\nis only too glad to have Father Barry assume almost the whole of that\nhard work, and is on the best of terms with him in private, though he\nrails against popery and the priesthood from the pulpit in the most\npopular manner. No; I don't advise you to be guided either by our\nCongregationalist brother here, or our Methodist brother at Sealing.\nFather Barry knows every poor family for twenty miles around, and he\ncan give you as much and more work than you can attend to.\" By this\ntime they were nearing home and the doctor said,\n\n\"I am glad you are not discouraged by this little accident, at the\noutset of your benevolent works; it is brave of you, and deserves\nbetter success next time. You have done well for the beginning, and\nhave reason to feel happy. I will go over to McNally's to-morrow, and\nfrighten him a little, and in the afternoon, or the next day, you can\ngo to see his wife again.\"\n\nDr. James declined to come in; he shook hands warmly with Margaret,\nand drove away. Miss Spelman was very curious to know what had taken\nplace on the drive.\n\n\"Was he agreeable, my dear? Did he tell you about himself?\"\n\n\"Rather about his friend the priest; how strange that he should think\nso much of him.\"\n\nMiss Spelman shook her head, \"I don't approve of that intercourse;\nthese priests are very sly, and who knows that he may not be a Jesuit\nin disguise? I have warned the doctor about it, but he is very\nself-willed. Would you believe it, my dear? The only place he ever\ngoes on Sundays is to the Catholic mass, either at Sealing or here,\nwhere they have it in the hall once a month; on which occasion Father\nBarry always dines with him. I do not mean to say that Dr. James goes\nto the mass every Sunday, for he often sleeps late on that day; but\nhe never goes to church anywhere else.\"\n\n\"I don't blame him,\" said Margaret, \"for not enjoying Dr. Thorndike's\nsermons; they always put me to sleep; or Mr. Sparks's either, for\nthat matter, they are so intensely commonplace! I am sure I could\nwrite a great deal better ones, without having been to college or\nstudied divinity, either.\"\n\n\nCHAPTER XII.\n\nPROGRESS.\n\nMargaret did not see the doctor till the next evening; she had been\nvery busy all day, and so had he; but as she was playing cribbage\nwith Miss Spelman, after tea, he made his appearance, and, declaring\nthat he had plenty of time, and that they must finish their game, he\nsat down before the fire and waited till Miss Spelman triumphantly\nannounced:\n\n\"A double sequence, eight; pairs royal, fourteen; that takes me out,\nmy dear.\"\n\n\"It is a rubber, too,\" Margaret observed, rising and approaching the\nfire. \"Now, Doctor James, I have some business to talk over with you,\nand you must come with me into the dining-room; or I will put on my\ncloak, and we will go out on the piazza.\"\n\n\"It is moonlight out there,\" remarked Miss Spelman, \"if you only\ndress warm enough.\"\n\n\"And will the moon retire behind a cloud, if I should insist on\ncatching cold, aunty? But you need not be afraid; my cloak is very\nwarm; I will put the hood over my head, and we will walk fast up and\ndown all the time. Shall we not, Doctor James?\"\n\nThey proceeded to the piazza, and began their promenade, while Miss\nSpelman, taking occasion to go into the dining-room, stood there in\nthe dark, smiling as she watched their figures pass back and forth\nbefore the window. \"It is all going just right,\" she thought; \"how\nmuch they always have to say to each other!\"\n\nMeanwhile, as soon as they had stepped out of the window, Margaret\nbegan, \"Well, Doctor James, where do you suppose I have been to-day?\"\n\n\"To the McNallys', this afternoon, I suppose.\"\n\n\"Very wisely guessed; but where have I been this morning?\"\n\n\"Really, Miss Lester, you tax my curiosity too far; I am not good at\nguessing.\"\n\n\"I have been to see Father Barry.\"\n\n\"Really!\" he exclaimed, now surprised indeed, for he had not imagined\nshe would act so promptly on their talk of the previous evening. He\ndid not yet understand the energy of her character, her activity\nand earnestness, which made a resolve and its fulfilment almost\nsimultaneous.\n\n\"Why are you surprised? Listen, and I will tell you all about it. I\nhad such a remarkable adventure! You see Miss Burney and I drove to\nSealing this morning, as usual. I did not tell her a word of what I\nwas going to do; I only worked on her sensibilities a little about\nthe McNallys; not that I wanted her to do any thing for them, but\nmerely because I felt like harrowing somebody's feelings. After I\nhad left her, I took my lesson, shopped a little, paid a visit to\nthose silly Gleeson girls--putting off the evil day, you see--and\nthen went straight to Father Barry's house. As I approached, I saw\na woman coming out of the gate, holding in her hand two plates--one\nturned upside down --evidently containing something good. She was\ntalking to herself and saying, 'O God bless him! God bless him!' and\ndid not seem to see me or any thing else. My curiosity was roused,\nand I stopped her by asking, 'God bless whom? And what have you got\nin those plates?' She stared at me for a moment, and then exclaimed,\n'Oh! but he is a darling man!' 'God bless and reward him!' and so on.\nAt last I extorted from her that his reverence had given her 'a bit\nof lovely steak,' for her sick daughter at home. I was interested,\nand hurried past her, up the steps, where I found the door ajar, left\nso probably by the woman, in coming out. I was a little curious, I\nacknowledge, and hence did not stop to ring. After entering, I paused\nto consider what I should do next. There were two closed doors on one\nside of the entry, and one half open, on the other. I approached the\none that was partly open, and stood on the threshold of--what do you\nsuppose? actually the dining-room, with Father Barry seated at the\ntable, eating bread and butter, with a dish of potatoes on the table,\nand before him a saucer containing two boiled eggs. I understood\nhow things were, at a glance; he had sent his own dinner away with\nthat woman, and was dining on eggs instead. Why are you laughing?\"\nMargaret exclaimed, suddenly breaking off.\n\n\"The whole thing is so amusing, and I would say so characteristic.\nYour stopping the woman, entering the house as if it belonged to you,\nseeing all that poor Father Barry was eating for his dinner, and then\nmaking so complete a story out of the whole affair. Forgive me for\nlaughing; you can't think how interested I am. Will you not go on?\"\n\nMargaret, who had been perfectly serious herself, after a moment's\npause continued, \"I was taken aback, you may be sure, and begged\npardon in a very confused manner; but Father Barry rose, and, with\nthe utmost politeness, asked me if there was any thing he could\noffer me. I thought to myself that there was not much left to offer\nany one. So I asked permission to wait till he had finished, and he\nshowed me into a sort of parlor, where something, which must have\nbeen a confessional, made part of the furniture; and there I sat and\nstared at large maps of the county and of Ireland, and pictures of\na pope and of the Virgin, for about ten minutes, when he came and\nasked me to excuse him for keeping me waiting. He knew me before I\ntold him my name, and seemed surprised when I explained what I had\ncome for. He said he wished he could give me Sunday-school work to\ndo, but as I was not a Catholic, that was impossible. However, there\nwas quite enough of other work to be done. He was very kind, and\nwe soon came to a good understanding. The first family he spoke of\nwere the McNallys, and he proposed--only think how sensible!--that I\nshould give John some work to do. He said shoes were very much needed\namong his Sunday-school children, this winter; so he proposed that I\nshould order a number of pairs of different sizes, and bring them by\ninstalments, for him to distribute among his children. Altogether, I\nwas very glad I went, and I see that his advice will be most useful.\nI am going again on Friday.\"\n\n\"I am sure you have been quite successful. Still, don't undertake\nmore than you can perform.\"\n\n\"No. Father Barry said the same; I will take care not to overdo\nthings in the beginning, because I mean to keep it up.\"\n\n\"I found John McNally,\" said the doctor, \"quite overcome by shame\nand remorse; he was sure the lady would never trust him again. I told\nhim he did not deserve that she should. I was very harsh at first,\nand only allowed myself to be softened by degrees. At last I told him\nthat his rent was paid, and that I would try to get him work.\"\n\n\"And I found Rose sitting up, this afternoon,\" said Margaret. \"She\nwould like to do a little plain sewing when she is better, and I\nsaid I would get her some. She says they could get along very well,\nif John could only have steady work to do; but it is so much easier\nto buy shoes in Sealing, that people forget him. Now, Dr. James, I\nhave a plan of moving them to Sealing, and getting a little shoe-shop\nfor John, and then they would be sure to prosper, for he is a good\nworkman, I hear.\"\n\n\"Let me caution you against beginning too impulsively in favor of\nthis one family. Remember that there are others in want, and you\ncannot do so much for all. Besides, I have known a sudden stroke of\ngood luck to prove the ruin of poor and honest people like these.\nI think we can get John more work, and I will take care that other\npeople do not forget him.\"\n\nMargaret was reluctantly persuaded to give up the plan of a removal\nto Sealing, and only comforted herself by ordering of McNally fifty\npairs of shoes for Father Barry's Sunday-school children.\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII.\n\nA PROOF OF FRIENDSHIP.\n\nThere is no need of describing more fully the three winter months\nthat Margaret passed at Shellbeach. The time went faster than ever,\nafter she had offered her services to Father Barry. Under his\ndirection, she did great good; more indeed than any one knew of, for\nshe had obtained a promise from the good priest that he would not\nspeak of her charities. So when Dr. James once or twice tried to lead\nhis friend to speak about the matter, Father Barry, desirous that she\nshould not lose the reward of the \"Father who seeth in secret,\" only\nsmiled and said, \"She knows all about it, you must go to her.\" As for\nthe McNallys, Margaret still considered them as her _prot\u00e9g\u00e9s_, and\ncherished in private the project for improving their condition.\n\nThen she had done something else, a thing of which she was very\nproud, and of which she often afterward boasted--she had taught a\nroomful of children in the public school at Sealing! Old Mr. Burney\nwas growing more and more infirm, and seemed threatened with the\nentire loss of his mind. It became every day more difficult to leave\nhim; and one morning, Margaret, on calling as usual for her friend,\nfound that her father had had a shock of paralysis, and could not\nbe left. Martha had planned to send an excuse by Margaret for her\nabsence; but she could think of no person to supply her place, and\nshe was completely surprised by Margaret's announcing her intention\nto try her hand at managing the children! All remonstrance was in\nvain, and having received a few brief directions, Margaret drove\nrapidly away to Sealing. How her fashionable friends in New York\nwould have opened their eyes, had they been favored with a sight\nof Miss Lester hearing two or three dozen children recite the\nmultiplication-table!\n\nShe returned in the afternoon, radiant, and, as she herself said,\n\"hungry as a bear.\" She gave glowing accounts to Martha of her\nsuccess, and begged to be allowed to try the experiment again on the\nmorrow. Some of the boys, she remarked, evidently \"took her measure;\"\nbut after trying a little impertinence, they gave it up as a bad job,\nand every thing went as well as Martha could have desired. For three\ndays, Margaret kept this up, and gained the hearts of even the most\nobdurate of her scholars. How delighted she was with her success!\nAt the end of that period, as old Mr. Burney had grown better,\nMargaret's school duties came to a close.\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV.\n\nMARGARET'S COURAGE.\n\nIt was early spring. The buds were swelling, the birds beginning to\nsing, and a week of mild weather had filled every one's heart with a\nlonging for out-of-door life, when an excursion was planned by a few\nof the Sealing young people, to a wild and beautiful spot called the\nGlen, a few miles inland, a favorite resort for picnic parties. There\nwere a dozen in all, and they were to go in a large open wagon with\nfour seats, and take their provisions with them. It was the custom of\nthe place for the young men to have the nominal getting-up of these\nexcursions; that is, they incurred the expense of the \"team\" and the\ntrouble of invitations, while the girls prepared the eatables. There\nwas always to be an equal number of ladies and gentlemen; the couples\nwere arranged beforehand, and each youth was in duty bound to devote\nhimself to his companion unremittingly, during the drive and at the\nplace of the picnic.\n\nDr. James had agreed to join this party, an almost unheard-of thing\nfor him to do, and the committee of arrangements had assigned him\nto Margaret, as her escort. This was disinterested on the part of\nthe other ladies; for although they were not supposed to have a\nvoice in the distribution of the gentlemen, their influence was\ncertainly felt, as one or two of the committee very conveniently had\nsisters, who gave their advice at home, and communicated to their\nintimate friends the results of their important deliberations. It\nwas disinterested in them, then, to allow Miss Lester to have as her\nescort the doctor, who was a great favorite, and by far the most\ndesirable man, in the towns of Sealing and Shellbeach combined, for\nan escort, a partner, a husband, or what not. Added to this, it was\nquite an honor to have him devote so much of his precious time to\ntheir picnic; he was, in fact, the lion of the party, and perhaps no\none else could have been selected for his companion without exciting\ndisapprobation, to say the least, in the minds of many of the others.\nSo it seemed to be a wise as well as a magnanimous plan which gave to\nMargaret the privilege of the exclusive attention of Dr. James for\none whole afternoon.\n\nA perception of the state of the case dawned upon her, as the great\nwagon stopped at Miss Spelman's door, and she inwardly smiled when,\nafter seeing her contribution to the feast safely packed away, she\ntook her place between the doctor and a young man, who was usually\naccounted for as being \"in the bank,\" though what office he held in\nthat important institution was left rather uncertain.\n\nShe resolved to repay the politeness of the rest of the party by\nmaking herself generally agreeable, and monopolizing her escort as\nlittle as possible. In this she succeeded admirably, and the whole\ncompany were in high spirits and enjoying themselves to the utmost\nwhen they reached the Glen, and began to walk through pastures and\nover rough and broken ground, before reaching the bed of the brook,\nwhere the picnic proper was to be held. All the provisions were\nset down on the high, flat rock which answered for a table, and\nthen the party broke up into couples, as the girls expressed their\ninclinations, some to sit down on the rocks and others to explore the\nwoods or follow up the stream to its source.\n\nMargaret, to whom every thing was new and interesting, wished to go\nthrough the Glen, and proposed that they should climb the wooded\nbank above them, follow the stream through the woods, and return by\nthe rocks. Dr. James was very willing, and they set out on their\nscramble up the bank, and then along the edge, catching at branches\nor roots of trees for support, and slipping frequently on the wet\nlast year's leaves and damp earth. It was all fun to Margaret; she\nlaughed with an almost childish delight at every difficulty, refused\nall assistance, and kept generally ahead of her companion, who\nseemed inclined to take the rough climbing more leisurely, and was\nnot enraptured when the treacherous leaves landed him in a hole, or\na seemingly firm bough which he grasped gave way in his hand, and\nalmost made him lose his balance and fall.\n\nAt last the head of the Glen was reached; a turn had hidden the rest\nof the party from them, and their voices sounded faint and distant.\n\n\"Now we will go down to those lovely green meadows,\" said Margaret.\n\"But, O Dr. James! what is that?\"\n\n\"Only a bridge across, made of a great pine log. You see the top has\nbeen smoothed.\"\n\n\"A bridge! Then it is meant to be crossed. Come, let us cross it.\"\n\n\"Certainly, if you wish. I have been foolish enough to cross it\nbefore, and am willing to do so again.\"\n\n\"Why was it foolish?\"\n\n\"Because it is dangerous. It is only a few steps across, I\nacknowledge. But look down; how would you like to fall among those\nrocks?\"\n\nAt this moment three or four of the party came round a huge rock\nwhich had hidden them from sight, and evidently noticed the two\nstanding by the bridge.\n\n\"You need not try to frighten me, Dr. James; my nerves are not easily\nshaken. Come, shall I go first?\"\n\n\"If you please. Your stick may be a sort of balance-pole; imagine\nyourself on the tight-rope, and look steadily at that little tree\nbefore you; don't look down. I am in earnest, Miss Lester.\"\n\nMargaret looked at him, laughed, and stepped on the little bridge.\nThe people who were looking at them were frightened, and the girls\nturned away their faces. Margaret made three steady steps, then\npaused.\n\n\"Do you see what a lovely green that water is, just below us?\"\n\nTwo steps more and her stick dropped, she staggered, and put her\nhands to her head.\n\n\"I am falling!\"\n\nBut she felt a strong hand on each of her shoulders, and a voice of\ncommand said,\n\n\"Fix your eyes on that tree, and walk straight on.\" She obeyed, and\nthree more steps brought her to firm ground. Instantly, almost before\nher feet touched the bank, the doctor withdrew his hands, and without\na word, with a displeased and gloomy face, preceded her down the\nbank. He was saying to himself,\n\n\"Now we shall have a scene, and she will say she owes her life to me,\nand call me her preserver, or some such nonsense.\"\n\nMargaret leaned for a moment against the little tree she had been\ntold to look at so steadfastly, and then followed her companion\nthrough the woods. He walked so fast that she was soon out of breath\ntrying to overtake him. When she had done so, she said in a low voice,\n\n\"I am vain and contemptible. I despise myself more than I can\nexpress. Forgive me for giving you so much trouble.\"\n\nDr. James turned; his face was clear, and he smiled upon her with a\nsmile that was sunshine itself; he did not reply, but walked slowly\nby her side, then stooped, and holding something out to her, said,\n\n\"See, here are the first flowers; the little hepatica ventures out\nbefore all the rest. Will you take it? How pretty it is! how delicate\nthe colors are; and the stem is covered with fur. Notice the green\nand brown leaves, too; they add to its beauty and singularity. It is\nmy favorite flower.\"\n\nThe deep flush in Margaret's face had died away, and her voice had\nresumed its usual tone when they joined the rest of the party, and\nsat down to the feast; but her gayety was gone, and it seemed as if\nnothing could recall it. She was abstracted and serious, and not in\naccordance with the merriment around her. At last she arose, and\nwent to a rock, on which she leaned, and watched the little minnows\ndarting about in a green pool of water, when she was startled by the\ndoctor's voice close beside her. He held toward her a small silver\ntumbler, filled with iced claret and water, and said in an undertone,\n\n\"Miss Lester, how can you let a trifle weigh so on your mind, and\ncloud all your enjoyment?\" He was smiling in a friendly way; but she\nlooked at him reproachfully, and said,\n\n\"How can you call it a trifle? It might have cost me my life.\"\n\n\"You are right,\" he replied gravely; \"nothing ought to be called\na trifle whose consequences might be serious; though attendant\ncircumstances make us look at the same thing in such different\nlights at different times. On the bridge, and when I felt angry with\nyou afterward, your conduct seemed to me a most weighty matter; now I\ncan with difficulty recall any thing except the honesty and courage\nof your apology. Having seen and humbly acknowledged your fault, will\nyou not now confer a favor on the whole party by forgetting what is\npast?\"\n\nMargaret smiled, and saying, \"I will, at least, forget myself,\"\naccompanied him back to the party.\n\nShe did her part very well, and, owing in a great measure to her\nefforts, the rest of the picnic and the moonlight drive home were\nquite as pleasant as the setting out had been.\n\n\"She is a brave woman,\" the doctor said to himself that night in his\nstudy; but Margaret was quite unconscious that his opinion of her\nhad been raised instead of lowered, by the occurrences of the picnic\nparty at the Glen.\n\n\nCHAPTER XV.\n\nA CHANGE.\n\nThis little mortification--and it really was one to Margaret's\nhigh spirit, owing to her anxiety to stand well in Dr. James's\nopinion--should have been a lesson to her to give up contradicting\nhim, and opposing her own will to his, and for a time it was so; and\nyet that very wish to please, of which she was conscious and ashamed,\nmade her often dispute with and appear to oppose him, when she would\nhave liked to agree and do as he advised.\n\nShe began to realize something else, too, that had the effect of\nmaking her surround herself, as it were, with an armor of prickles\nand thorns; so that her intercourse with the doctor was far from\npeaceful or pleasant. She felt that the work she was doing among the\npoor was wholly with and for Father Barry; she was helping him, not\nDr. James; and this, she felt, was the doing of the latter, and not\nwithout a reason. At first, when he had recommended her to take the\npriest as her adviser, she had felt a cooling of enthusiasm; still,\nhaving said she meant to persevere, she would not draw back.\n\nIt would have been sweet to her, she knew it now, to help the\ndoctor; to be his friend, confidant, coadjutor; to feel that she was\nmaking his labor, which she revered and sympathized with, easier and\npleasanter. But he had made that impossible; he had directed her\nto go to some one else for help, for counsel, for support, while\nhe stood alone as before, and had never again applied to her for\nassistance for his patients, though she had once or twice asked if\nshe could not relieve them. She understood the pride which prevented\nhim from accepting her money, or placing himself under obligations to\nher. \"He does not like me well enough to let me help him,\" she said\nto herself; and she soon abandoned all those efforts to make herself\nagreeable to him, which at first came so naturally to her.\n\nThe picnic lesson, therefore, though by no means forgotten, had\nceased to influence her actions; and when the real spring-time came,\nwith mild air, and young, fresh green, as May drew to its close\nand June was at hand, Margaret had managed to quarrel with Dr.\nJames several times, and had made herself unhappy and him far from\ncomfortable. He began to come less often to his old friend, Miss\nSpelman's, and to hear less of Margaret's plans and doings.\n\nMiss Selina was much puzzled at the turn things were taking, and yet,\nwhen they disputed, she was half the time uncertain whether they\nwere in fun or in earnest; and it did no good to remonstrate with\nMargaret; for the incomprehensible girl agreed with all she said, and\nacknowledged the doctor to be perfectly right.\n\nThe friendship with Martha Burney continued, however, and at her\nhouse Margaret always appeared to the best advantage, even before\nDr. James. She seemed to stand somewhat in awe of her older friend,\nand was desirous to please; and besides, she had made a kind of\nagreement with herself that when she met the doctor there, she might\nallow herself to be as pleasant and conciliatory as her inclinations\nled her to be. She was in a peculiar frame of mind, and this curious\ncompromise can be better described than explained.\n\nIn the mean time, old Mr. Burney gradually became more and more\nfeeble; soon he lost his mind to such a degree as not to be able\neven to recognize his faithful daughter; and at last, early in May,\nhe died. Margaret could not understand how Martha could grieve as\nshe did at his loss; knowing his character and former misdoings, and\nseeing him a broken-down, witless old man, the daughter's sorrow\nseemed to her unreasonable; but when Martha talked of him as he was\nonce, when his wife was living, handsome and brave and generous, the\nidol of those two fond women, it made her think of her own dear and\nnoble father, lying alone in his quiet resting-place in the little\nSwiss graveyard, and she found she could give the sympathy and\ncomfort which before were impossible.\n\nHis death made little apparent difference. Martha, after the funeral,\nwent quietly on with her school duties, till she \"could think of\nsomething more useful to do,\" she said; and her little household was\nas quiet and homely as usual, only, as it seemed to other people,\nmuch pleasanter. But Martha said,\n\n\"Oh! it was such a difference; she could not work with half the\nspirit now that it was only for herself; she had always had some one\nto live for, and now she could not feel any interest in what she did.\"\n\nMargaret often went for her in her phaeton and brought her back to\nher aunt's to tea, and there grew up between them a sympathy and\naffection that was destined to last for life.\n\n    TO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SANITARY TOPOGRAPHY OF NEW YORK CITY.\n\n\nThe rapid growth of New York City is at present exciting universal\ninterest throughout the country; and as a place of residence, or in\na business point of view, it would be difficult to over-estimate\nthe vast advantages it possesses. Nature has lavished upon the\nisland its choicest gifts; surrounded on one side by the East and\nHarlem rivers, on the other by the beautiful Hudson, the \"Rhine of\nAmerica,\" as an entirety, its advantages for natural drainage and\ngeneral healthfulness cannot be surpassed. But eighteen miles from\nthe Atlantic Ocean, with an admirable harbor, the nations of the\nearth already vie with each other in pouring into the lap of this\ninfant giant their most costly productions and most beautiful works\nof art. It is now the most populous city and the greatest commercial\nemporium of the western hemisphere, and stands with its youthful\nvigor a proud rival of the largest cities of the old world. With the\nvast undeveloped wealth of free America, and the energy and ambition\nof her sturdy sons to press it forward, is it not easy to foreshadow\nthe prospective importance of this metropolis of the Union?\n\nBut one subject of uneasiness presents itself in this glance at\nthe future, and that is the rather limited space which nature's\nbarriers have allowed us, and which threatens eventually to stop the\nprogress of the city. \"Manhattan Island is but thirteen and one half\nmiles long, and has an average width of one and three fifths miles.\nThis gives an area of twenty-two square miles, or fourteen hundred\nacres.\"[62]\n\nWe may consider the city as pretty solidly built up as far north as\nFifty-ninth street, the border of Central Park. The census of next\nyear will probably show the population to number between thirteen\nand fourteen hundred thousand souls; and the rate of increase is\nestimated to be between six and seven per cent per annum. Thus the\npopulation of the island in 1880 will number far above two millions,\nand the city be extended as far northward as Ninetieth street. There\nare but \"37,244 lots of full size, that is, twenty-five by one\nhundred feet, between Eighty-sixth and One Hundred and Fifty-fifth\nstreet.\"[63] This shows conclusively that before many more such\ndecades of years roll round, every available portion of the island\nwill be built upon, and our further expansion apparently prevented.\nBut this, we hope, will be obviated by the erection of the East\nRiver bridge, and other modes of rapid transit to our sister city,\nBrooklyn, and the Jersey shore; thus enabling us to bring within our\nlimits all the territory that will be required.\n\nFor the present, the rapidly increasing number of our commercial\nhouses and the consequent greed for space shown by trade in the\nlower part of the city, as well as our constantly augmenting\npopulation, show conclusively that the better class of residents now\noccupying locations south of Thirty-fourth street will be obliged\nto look elsewhere for homes. That this is to be the case no one\ncan doubt, who has studied the progress of business marts in their\nup-town march, during the last two years. The invasion of Union\nSquare, the magnificent buildings on Broadway between Eighteenth\nand Nineteenth streets, the \"Grand Hotel,\" and, more than all else,\nthe appropriation of the lower end of Fifth Avenue for public\ngalleries, attest this fact, and warn us that no prominent location\nbelow Thirty-fourth street will, in a short time, be safe from\nthe all-powerful grasp of this insatiable demand. With this fact\nbefore us, the question arises, What portion of the island offers\nthe greatest prospective permanency for private residences, and at\nthe same time the best inducements for the happiness and physical\nwell-being of the people?\n\nThat tract of the island bounded on the south by Thirty-fourth\nstreet, on the east by Lexington avenue, on the west by Sixth avenue,\nand on the north by Fifty-seventh street, is undoubtedly very\ndesirable property; but with our rapid growth it is impossible to\ntell what it will be twenty years hence; and besides, we are lured\npast this portion by the many advantages offered by the section north\nof it.\n\nWe have now before us the Central Park, extending from Fifth Avenue\non the east, to Eighth avenue on the west; and stretching out\nin picturesque beauty from Fifty-ninth to One Hundred and Tenth\nstreet. To the east and west of this, we find topographically a very\ndifferent character of country. On the east side from Fifty-ninth to\nNinetieth street, the surface is very uneven; in some parts ledges of\nrock run up one hundred and twenty feet above tide-water, and then\nabruptly descend into valleys almost on a level with tide-water; and\nhere are found the beds of old streams, so many of which formerly\nrolled their sluggish waters through this portion of the island into\nthe East River. The general fall is eastward, though not sufficiently\nso to make natural drainage into the river good. From Ninetieth\nstreet to the Harlem River, we have a perfectly flat plain; unbroken,\nwith the exception of Mount Morris Square, by any marked elevation.\nThe land lies but little above tide-water, and presents every\nappearance of being to a great extent \"made ground.\" This supposition\nis further strengthened by the alluvial character of the soil. Many\nsuppose that a branch of the Hudson once flowed across the island\nat Manhattanville to Hell Gate; but we believe that originally the\nupper portion of Manhattan was a distinct island, and have no doubt\nthe waters of the Hudson washed freely between the two, and in time\nthe amount of soil gradually deposited on either bank limited and\neventually closed the gap, thus giving us our present formation.\n\nOn the west side of the park we have a very different topography.\n\n     \"From Fifty-ninth to One Hundred and Fourth street, the Eighth\n     avenue is nearly the central ridge of the Island. Its average\n     height is twenty to thirty feet above the Fifth avenue. At\n     Fifty-ninth street, the elevation of the Eighth avenue above the\n     tide-level is seventy-six feet four inches, increasing to ninety\n     feet at Seventieth street, reaching one hundred and twenty feet\n     at Eighty-fifth street and one hundred and twenty-two feet at\n     Ninety-second street; descending, it is eighty-nine feet at One\n     Hundred and Fourth street, and gradually falls off to the general\n     low level of Harlem plains.\n\n     \"At One Hundred and Sixth street, the ridge extends\n     north-westwardly, leaving the Eighth avenue, running nearly\n     along the Ninth avenue to One Hundred and Twentieth street; then\n     bending westwardly, and forming the southern hill-side of the\n     Manhattan valley to the Hudson River. The new grade of the Eighth\n     avenue already established, by keeping up elevations and filling\n     depressions, will gradually ascend to and then descend from its\n     summit at Ninety-second street, and make the finest possible grade\n     for any avenue on the island.\"[64]\n\nTo appreciate, one must see the romantic beauty presented by the\nbold bluff of rocky formation against which the crystal waters of\nthe Hudson dash in ceaseless waves and eddies. At points forming\nascents from seventy to one hundred and forty feet above tide-water,\nit stretches away, with varying elevation and constantly changing\nscenery until it reaches Manhattanville. There, as if to make space\nto cradle the village in its rocky embrace, for a few blocks it\ndisappears, only to rise in more stately proportions beyond, forming\nits crowning glory of landscape grandeur at Washington Heights.\n\n     \"There is a high table-land between the Eighth and Ninth avenue\n     ridge on the east, and the Hudson River bank on the west. The\n     surface of this table-land is broken; it has high rocky ridges and\n     mounds in central locations reaching these elevations. At\n\n       Ninth avenue and Sixty-sixth street                    89 feet.\n       Ninth avenue and Seventieth street                     98   \"\n       Ninth avenue and Eighty-fourth street                 120 feet.\n       Ninth avenue and Ninety-first street                  121   \"\n       Ninth avenue and One Hundred and Fifth street         117   \"\n       Tenth avenue and Seventy-seventh street                98   \"\n       Tenth avenue and Eighty-fifth street                  109   \"\n       Tenth avenue and Ninety-Second street                 107   \"\n       Tenth avenue and One Hundred and Fifth street         109   \"\n       Tenth avenue and One Hundred and Seventeenth street   145   \"\n\n     \"Between these elevations, which (except a central ridge or\n     terrace between the Ninth and Tenth avenues from Seventy-ninth to\n     Ninety-fourth street) are not generally continuous, are numerous\n     hollows and valleys, the lowest having an elevation of fifty to\n     sixty feet above the tide-level. The average elevation of this\n     plateau is as much as seventy-five feet; in the more northerly\n     portion, as much as one hundred feet. The surface drainage from\n     this plateau finds its way to the river, through the valleys\n     above indicated, at Sixty-seventh, Eightieth, and Ninety-sixth\n     streets.\"[65]\n\nWith a view to the prospective physical health of the city, the\nauthorities should do every thing possible to destroy the extensively\nprevailing malaria found in it, which emanates from the large tract\nof made ground along the East River, and from the beds of the\noriginal streams, which covered acres of land in the primitive state\nof the island. Few people fully comprehend the insidiousness of this\npoison which affects the system in such a variety of ways and shows\nsuch erratic developments that at times the skill of the physician\nis baffled in attempting to detect its presence. It is rendered more\npermanent in many locations by the miserable condition of the sewers,\nand, where these have not been built, by the irregular grading of\nstreets forming obstructions to the natural drainage of the soil.\nAgain, in many places where sewers have been provided, as along the\ncourse of Seventy-fourth street between Third and Fifth avenues, they\ndo not seem to entirely prevent the generation of the poison, as\nintermittent and remittent fevers are still rife in the surrounding\ndistricts: not properly filling up the beds of the streams in many of\nthese cases may, however, account for this.\n\nOwing to its rocky formation, malaria has found a home in but few\nlocations in the north-western section of the city; and if these\nare examined, they will generally be found to be lots which, by the\ngrading of the streets, have been made lower than the side-walks.\nWhen these are properly filled, the deleterious influence they exert\nwill disappear. In addition to this, the level of this section is\nso much above tide-water that it possesses every advantage for\nnatural, and, when that does not prove sufficient, every facility for\npromoting artificial, drainage.\n\nAccording to the report of the Board of Central Park Commissioners\nfor last year, \"the prevailing winds for the year were west and\nnorth-west.\" Let us see what comparative difference this makes to the\ntwo sections of the city under consideration. The west side receives\nthis wind in all its bracing freshness directly after it has passed\nover the Jersey highlands, on the opposite side of the Hudson. It\ncarries before it all the exhalations from this side toward the east,\nand imparts a healthful vigor to all who come within its influence.\nThe east side, being so much below the level of the west, receives\nbut little of the benefit to be derived from this wind. Again:\n\n     \"When the mercury in the barometer rises, the smoke and injurious\n     emanations are quickly dispelled in the air. When the mercury\n     lowers, we see the smoke and noxious vapors remain in the\n     apartments and near the surface of the earth. Now, every one knows\n     that, of all winds, that from the east causes the mercury in the\n     barometer to rise the highest, and that which lowers it most is\n     from the west. When the latter blows, it carries with it all the\n     deleterious gases it meets in its course from the west. The\n     result is, that the inhabitants of the eastern parts of a city\n     not only have their own smoke and miasmas, but also those of the\n     western parts brought by the west wind. When, on the contrary,\n     the east wind blows, it purifies the air by causing the injurious\n     emanations to rise, so that they cannot be thrown back upon the\n     west. It is evident, then, that the inhabitants of the western\n     parts receive pure air from whatever part of the horizon it comes.\n     We will add, that the west wind is most prevalent, and the west\n     end receives it all fresh from the country.\n\n     \"From the foregoing facts, M. Junod lays down the following\n     directions: First, persons who are free to choose, especially\n     those of delicate health, should reside in the western part of a\n     city. Secondly, for the same reason, all the establishments that\n     send forth vapors or injurious gases should be in the eastern\n     part. Thirdly and finally, in erecting a house in the city, and\n     even in the country, the kitchen should be on the eastern side, as\n     well as all the out-houses from which unhealthy emanations might\n     spread into the apartments.\"[66]\n\nThe absence of foliage is a great disadvantage in malarious\ndistricts, and here the east side of the city enjoys a marked\nsuperiority over the west in the ample and rich character of its\nsoil, which, with proper cultivation would produce trees of luxurious\nfoliage. On account of the small quantity and the poor quality of the\nsoil in many locations in the north-western section of the island,\ntrees are not as numerous as they should be; but it becomes only a\ngreater duty to foster those we have, and to constantly increase\ntheir number by planting others in every desirable location. Too\nlittle regard has in all ages been paid to that beautiful harmony\nestablished by the wisdom of God in nature, and but few persons\nconsider how essential the vegetable kingdom is to animal life.\nWith each inspiration of air which we draw into our lungs to obtain\noxygen, a certain amount of blood is purified, and throws off its\ncarbon. This carbon is rapidly absorbed by plants, and nurtures\nthem; and in return they liberate the oxygen which is absolutely\nnecessary for our being.\n\n     \"Plants absorb their food entirely in a liquid or gaseous form,\n     by imbibition, according to the law of _endosmosis_, through the\n     walls of the cells that form the surface; as when liquids of\n     unequal density are separated by a permeable membrane, the lighter\n     liquid or the weaker solution will flow into the stronger with a\n     force proportionate to the difference in density; but at the same\n     time a smaller portion of the denser liquid will flow out into the\n     weaker, which process is called _exosmosis_. The fluid absorbed by\n     the roots is thus carried from cell to cell, rising principally in\n     the wood, and is attracted to the leaves, or other parts of the\n     plants exposed to the sun and light, by the exhalation which takes\n     place from them, and the consequent inspiration of the sap. Here\n     the crude sap is exposed to sun and light, and assimilated and\n     converted into organizable matter.\"[67]\n\nMan, in his ruthless desire to utilize, according to his weak\nappreciation, every thing placed within his power, destroys the very\nbreastworks against disease and death with which the foresight of the\nCreator has surrounded him. Many instances are recorded where the\nremoval of a grove of trees has rendered entire villages for ever\nafterward a prey to the innumerable miseries produced by malarial\npoison. This fact has been recognized from the earliest days, and\ndemonstrated so clearly by experience, that the more intelligent\ninhabitants of rural districts, where marshes abound, build their\nhomes so that winds passing over them, and consequently laden with\ntheir pestilential exhalations, shall be intercepted by some belt\nof forest-trees. Many parts of Italy would be uninhabitable without\nthe protection of its luxurious vegetable productions, and it is\nwell known that the citizens of Rome are thus shielded from the\nsouth-west wind passing over the dreaded Pontine marshes. The\nsalutary influence of foliage is not felt in the case of malaria\nalone; observers have noticed the comparative immunity from epidemic\ndiseases also enjoyed by those whose homes are thus protected. During\nthe prevalence of cholera in Burlington, Iowa, in 1850, this was\nstrikingly demonstrated.\n\n     \"In the houses on the west side of Main street, north of Court,\n     more deaths took place than in any other portion of the city;\n     and more occurred, in proportion to the number of inmates, in\n     every other house than in the one in front of which were trees,\n     and, what is still more convincing, the natural predisposition\n     to cholera existed to a greater extent among the inmates of this\n     house, than in any other. Another and more striking instance\n     occurred in the two houses nearest the 'old saw-mill.' The house\n     adjoining the mill was surrounded by trees, and not one of the\n     occupants suffered from cholera; while, in the other house, which\n     was exposed, and stood upon the bank of the Mississippi, three\n     deaths took place; and what is more to the point, the family which\n     escaped were new-comers, and suffering from _nostalgia_, and the\n     effects of a change of climate, which act as a predisposing and\n     exciting cause of the disease; while those who lived in the other\n     house were old residents, and had been thoroughly acclimated. Dr.\n     Buckler notices similar facts in his account of the cholera, as it\n     appeared in the Baltimore Alms-house, in 1849.\"[68]\n\nTrees are useful to us in another respect; they moderate temperature.\nIn winter, the heat of the earth is constantly ascending their trunks\nto be given to the air. It is well known that large forests decidedly\nlessen the intense cold, and, in summer, moderate the extreme heat,\nby the great amount of moisture which they exhale from their leaves.\nAgain, who has not felt the happy influence a forest has upon the\nmind? How our petty troubles melt away, and our hearts expand with\ngrateful homage, when we listen to the tuneful harmony of \u00e6olian\nsweetness, as the feathered songsters of the grove, and the passing\nbreezes rustling through the verdant foliage unite to form nature's\norchestra, wafting upward one grand strain of praise to the Deity.\nAnd when, in the autumn of our lives, borne down by blighted hopes\nand ruined ambition, we seek the forest's solitude, every fitful\nbreeze sounds a low wail of sympathy, falling in gentle cadence on\nthe crushed heart.\n\nThe young growth of the trees is particularly noticeable in Central\nPark, and in this respect it will be many years before we can rival\nDruid Hill Park near Baltimore, where the grand old trees, raising\ntheir majestic heads toward heaven, seem whispering to every passing\nzephyr hymns of adoration. Here, art may carve meandering roads, span\nthe crystal streams with elaborate bridges, erect statues in honor\nof man, decorate and adorn to suit the taste of the most fastidious;\nbut high above all these, the majestic oaks wave their luxuriant\nfoliage, and assert the superiority of the works of the Creator\nover the imitations of the creature. Thus it needs but a moment's\nconsideration to see what a material advantage to our comfort,\nphysical well-being, and happiness trees are; and to understand why\nour broad avenues should be bordered with them, and their growth\nfostered as much as possible in our parks; and we may rest assured\nthat succeeding generations will bless us for the forethought which\nwill add so much to the beauty and healthfulness of our metropolis.\n\nThe eastern portion of all large cities is devoted to manufacturing\npurposes, and New York presents no exception to this almost\nuniversal rule. By reason of the comparatively level and easily\ngraded character of the east side, buildings were rapidly erected\nalong the line of the Second, Third, and Fourth avenues; and the\nsuburban villages of Harlem and Yorkville have been most remunerative\nto property-holders on that side of the park. The easy access to\nthe points above named by the city railroads has drawn that kind\nof capital which invests in good substantial tenant-houses. These\npay sufficiently well to prevent their being demolished, even with\na prospect of better pecuniary results from a higher class of\nproperty; and thus are always an obstacle in the way of first-class\nimprovements in a neighborhood.\n\nThe east side possesses a great many advantages which will in\ntime increase its commerce, and render its entire river-side most\nvaluable. Already numbers of manufactories, lumber-yards, and other\nbusiness places occupy nearly the entire water-front as high as\nFiftieth street; and the easy approach to, and gentle slope of its\nbank offering great facility for landing merchandise, will rapidly\nincrease their number toward the northern extremity of the island.\nAgain, should the attempt to relieve Hell Gate of its dangerous\nrocks be successful, a new era of prosperity will dawn for the East\nRiver shore, and every foot of its extent at once receive increased\nvaluation. Piers will spring into existence, and vessels of every\ndescription bearing the precious wares of every clime, will seek this\nhitherto inhospitable channel, and thus lessen their tedious voyage\nby at least two hundred miles.\n\nNorth of Fifty-ninth street on the west side, with the exception\nof the squatter's shanty, removable at a few days' legal notice,\nthere is nothing to impede the numerous and beautiful improvements\ndesigned by the Central Park Commissioners, to whose judgment this\nwork is intrusted. These improvements consist in laying out parks\nand public drives, and in adding in every possible way to the natural\nadvantages of this section. First, at the intersection of Broadway,\nEighth avenue, and Fifty-ninth street we will have the Circle, with\na radius of two hundred and sixteen feet. This will provide at once\nan opening to the grand Boulevard, and also add to the beauty of the\nentrance at this point to Central Park. The ground around this circle\nwill undoubtedly present one of the finest positions in the city\nfor public buildings, and will become as valuable for this purpose\nas that in the neighborhood of Union Square. In this connection we\nwould express a hope that the commissioners will reconsider the\ngreat mistake they have made in closing Sixtieth street between\nEighth avenue and the Boulevard, thereby cutting off the view of\nthe park and its grand entrance from the residents of that street.\nIt would add much to the finish of the circle, and the beauty of\nthe approach to the park, if Fifty-ninth street retained to either\nriver the width it has between Fifth and Eighth avenues. Eventually\na ferry will be established at either extremity of this street, for\nthe accommodation of persons desiring to visit the park; and this\nwith other circumstances, combines to make it very desirable that it\nshould be one of the wide streets. Several efforts have been made to\nhave the Belt Railroad running on this street removed to Fifty-eighth\nstreet, but so far without success. As this change is desired by the\nproperty-owners and residents in the neighborhood of the park, it is\nhoped it will be effected by the Legislature during their session\nthis winter.\n\nFrom the north-western portion of the circle issues the boulevard\nmentioned above. This will be in reality the extension of Broadway,\nand is designed to be one hundred and fifty feet wide, with\ntwenty-two feet of its central portion reserved for a grass-plot, to\nbe bordered on either side with shade-trees. It will extend along the\nline of the old Broadway road \"crossing Ninth avenue at Sixty-fifth\nstreet and Tenth avenue at Seventy-second street, and then passing\nabout midway between the Tenth and Eleventh avenues to One Hundred\nand Fourth street, where it bends to the westward, following the\nline of the Bloomingdale road, and strikes the Eleventh avenue\nat One Hundred and Seventh street, and then follows the Eleventh\navenue to One Hundred and Fifty-fifth street. Beyond One Hundred and\nFifty-fifth street it continues as a part of the improvements of the\nFort Washington district, which are now being carried out by the\ncommissioners under the law of 1865,\"[69] framed for this purpose.\n\nThen we have the Zo\u00f6logical Garden, which is considered a portion\nof Central Park, and which is to occupy the space bounded by\nSeventy-seventh street on the south, Ninth avenue on the west,\nEighty-first street on the north, and Eighth avenue on the east.\nIt should properly be extended, taking in the same blocks from\nSeventy-seventh to Eighty-first street, as an arm of the park, and\ncrossing the intervening avenues and boulevard by arched bridges,\nto the Riverside Park, which skirts the Hudson. This last will be\none of the most beautiful improvements on the island. Commencing at\nSeventy-second street, with the rocky highland, it continues along\nthe bank of the Hudson as far north as One Hundred and Thirtieth\nstreet. It will be bounded on the east by the new River-bank\navenue, which runs along the crest of the highland, and is to be\none hundred feet wide, and on the west by Twelfth avenue. It is\ndifficult to imagine a more charming variety of scenery than this\npark must present from its many prominent points. A continuous view\nof the Hudson for miles will be seen, with the bold highlands of New\nJersey on the opposite shore, and the limpid waters of the river\nadding variety to the charming landscape. Turning toward the north,\nFort Washington looms up in grand proportions against the distant\nhorizon, covered with rich foliage, and studded here and there with\nprincely mansions. Glancing eastward, the park, with its charming\nintermingling of natural and artificial beauty, stretches away toward\nthe East River in endless variety of lawn, shrubbery, and pebbly\npathway; while to the south a grand panoramic view of the island city\nis presented, with its myriad towers and steeples of public buildings\nand of churches, all attesting the prosperity and wealth of the\npeople. We hope the Park Commissioners will consider the extension\nwe have above suggested. If made now, its expense would be light in\ncomparison with the increased value of the property bordering the\nproposed connections; while the combination of the two parks, the\nboulevard, and the Zo\u00f6logical Garden would form a succession of grand\npleasure-grounds such as no city of the world can now boast of.\n\nWe have still to mention Morningside Park, which is to commence at\nOne Hundred and Tenth street, and extend as far north as One Hundred\nand Twenty-third street. It will be somewhat irregular in form and\nits southern portion will be bounded on either side by one of the new\navenues, and the northern extremity by Ninth and Tenth avenues. It is\nmost fortunate that the original intention of cutting down the grade\nof the streets in this section has been changed, and the matter\nleft to the option of the Central Park Commissioners. We may rest\nassured that excellent taste will harmonize their improvements, and\nevery notable point be reserved for some artistic design, and thus\nno natural advantage be destroyed which would add to the beautiful\nsymmetry of the whole.\n\nDuring the progress of these vast improvements a permanent system\nof sewerage should be devised for the comfort and convenience of\nthe inhabitants of this district. At present this could be readily\neffected, as in many parts of the boulevard, Eighth avenue, and side\nstreets, the grade will have to be raised several feet above the\npresent level. This is particularly noticeable in the boulevard in\nthe neighborhood of Eighty-fourth street, where the old Broadway\nroad must lie twenty feet below the grade of the grand drive. It\nshould also be a question as to the kind of sewer to be adopted.\nWe are convinced that throwing away the contents of our sewers is\nan irreparable error, as all the _d\u00e9bris_ passing through them\nshould be used as a fertilizing agent. Throughout the country, but\nmore particularly in the South, is the reckless abuse of the soil\nnoticeable. Our farmers sow and reap their crops year after year\nuntil the earth is worn out, and loses its productive power; then\nthey seek new fields. Our territory is so vast, that the effect of\nthis wretched mode of farming has not as yet been felt; but it must\nbe, sooner or later. In many parts of Europe, the same ruinous policy\nhas been pursued, and now the inhabitants are obliged to import\nguano to sufficiently revivify their impoverished land to raise\neven the lightest crop. We are happy to see that some of our public\nmen have had their attention drawn to this fact. Senator Sprague in\na recent conversation said, \"We are rapidly exhausting our virgin\nsoil, without furnishing it the means of recovery in the shape of\nfertilizers, and extending our railroads to new tracts as fast as we\nwear out the old cultivated ones.\" If we could deodorize the material\nfrom our sewers, and put it to practical uses, we would be gainers\nin many ways. In the first place, our piers would be relieved of\nthe enormous quantity of decomposing matter which may constantly\nbe seen festering under the sun's rays, and emitting pestilential\nexhalations; and secondly, a vast amount of valuable fertilizing\nmaterial would be garnered from this large city, which would go\nfar toward enriching the lands around us; and we may add that this\nexperiment has been tried, and proved not only a success, but also\nhighly remunerative.\n\n     \"Sewerage has been advantageously deodorized and applied to\n     agricultural uses in localities in England, where it could not be\n     conveniently discharged into the sea, by the process of Mr. W.\n     Higgs, of Westminster, which consists in collecting it in large\n     tanks and admitting with it a stream of lime-water, the effect of\n     which is to cause the precipitation of the organic matter with\n     the phosphates, urates, sulphates, etc., and the expulsion of any\n     free ammonia. Through the cover of the tanks the ammonia and all\n     gaseous matters are conveyed by a pipe into a convoluted chamber,\n     where they are fixed by various chemical reagents, and preserved.\n     The tanks, when full, are allowed to remain undisturbed for an\n     hour, when the liquids are drawn off clear and without odor. The\n     pulpy sediments are then collected and dried, and rendered fit\n     for the market. The expense of the process was rated at \u00a31 per\n     ton, and the manure thus prepared was sold at Cardiff for \u00a33 per\n     ton.\"[70]\n\nIt is an unquestionable fact that through the sewers of cities\nenormous quantities of the constituents of plants are conveyed into\nthe sea, and unless saved and restored to the soil, the loss must be\nmade up from other sources, or the lands become impoverished. From\nthe London sewers, refuse matter is thrown into the river Thames; and\nso fearfully does this immense body of filth pollute its waters that\nit has been found necessary during warm weather to neutralize the\nimpurity and destroy the foul gases by throwing large quantities of\ndisinfectants into the river, costing the city as much as \"\u00a320,000 in\nthe summer of 1859.\" They are now constructing an addition to their\nsewers which will carry their contents along the course of the river\neight miles to Barking, into a reservoir a mile and a half long,\nand about one hundred feet wide by twenty-one feet deep. From this\nreservoir it will be, at high-tide, discharged, through numerous\nlarge pipes, into the middle and bottom of the river, at the depth\nof sixty feet below the surface. \"The estimated cost of this vast\nwork is about \u00a34,000,000, and the time fixed for its completion five\nyears.\"[71]\n\nAs the river Seine divides the city of Paris into two parts, so it\ndivides the sewers into two districts, which formerly emptied their\ncontents respectively on the right and left bank of the river. In\norder to prevent the infection of the water of the river, the main\nsewer of the left bank was made to pass its contents through a tunnel\nunder the river, and empty them at Asni\u00e8res, the same point where\nthat of the right bank emptied, thus avoiding the current which\nwashed the discharged material back upon the city.\n\nThus we see that the disposition of sewerage has always been a\nquestion of great import, even to cities situated on large streams of\nwater, into which it could be turned. While proposing a system for\nat once doing away with the nuisance caused by it, and at the same\ntime utilizing it for fertilizing purposes, we are happy to add that\nit is not the first time the plan has been brought forward for New\nYork. Professor Lewis A. Sayre during his administration as Resident\nPhysician of this city, had regular plans drawn up and calculations\nmade as to the cost of the entire work; and also what return could\nwith certainty be expected from the investment. The designs were\nmade by the late John Randall, of Maryland, one of the ablest civil\nengineers the country has ever produced.\n\nThe professor's idea was, to have the street excavated for some\ntwelve feet below its grade. A substantial wall of masonry was to\nbe built on either side to sustain the sidewalk, and a convex iron\ngirder was to cross the entire width of the street, upon which the\npavement could be laid. Within the inclosure thus made, the sewer,\nwater, and gas-pipes could be placed, and trap-doors arranged\nat certain distances to make it possible to get at them without\ndisturbing the pavement. Here could be carried on a vast laboratory\nfor deodorizing the contents of the sewers. His plan also embraced a\nsort of trap by which the yard of each house communicated with the\nmain sewer, and an arrangement by which the fluid portion was allowed\nto drain away from the solids, which in turn were to be dumped from\nthe temporary reservoir in which they were received into a small car\nat the bottom of the excavation, and then carried to the laboratory\nby a regular railroad intersecting every portion of the city.\n\nThis general plan of subterranean sewerage may strike the eye of the\nuninitiated as very expensive; but when we consider the manipulation\na street is subjected to from the time its boundaries are defined\nby the surveyor, until it has been handed over to the city as\ncomplete, by the last contractor, we think the plan will appear\nin a very different light. In the first place, take a street that\nrequires filling up to a certain specified grade. Sealed proposals\nor bids are received from contractors for the work, and the party\nmaking the most advantageous offer obtains the contract, and in due\ncourse of time completes the work. Then, in all probability, a second\nparty obtains a contract to at once put down some kind of pavement.\nAfter this, houses are built upon the street, and a sewer must be\nlaid. This completed, the gas and Croton mains must be put down.\nThen each house must have separate sewer, gas, and water connection.\nThus the pavement is perpetually torn up and relaid, each removal\nrendering it more unfit for travel. Why not, when the street was\nlow enough to lay the sewer without turning out one shovelful of\nearth, put in the pipes for the sewer, gas, and water, and leave\nthe laying of the pavement until it could be done without having it\ntorn up four or five times for necessities which every one knows\nwill arise? Let any one calculate the vast sums of money spent on a\nstreet, in these various changes, and we are sure the amount will\nbe larger than the cost of the plan above proposed, with this great\ndifference, that when the work is completed, in the latter case,\na yield of from six to seven per cent upon the outlay could be at\nonce expected, while in the former there would be constant call for\nadditional expense in repairs. Where the grade of a street requires\nto be raised several feet, it is doubtful if it would cost much\nmore to put up the two walls of masonry and the iron girders than\nit costs to fill up the space with earth and rocks. Contractors pay\nfrom forty to seventy-five cents per load for this filling; and\nevery one knows how very few square feet the carts used for this\npurpose hold. Again, the question of an underground railroad has\nbeen much discussed during the past few years. With this plan of\nsewerage, it would be no more expensive to carry such a railroad over\nthe entire city, worked from given points by stationary engines and\nwire ropes, as is proposed for the overground railroad, than to lay\nsuch a road in the streets of the city; excepting that arrangements\nwould have to be made at certain distances to enable passengers to go\ndown to platforms below, for the purpose of entering the cars. This\nproject would at once put into the hands of the city authorities a\nsubterranean city, and also the vast revenues to be obtained from its\nunderground railroads, and does not present half the difficulties\nthat must have been experienced in bringing the Croton water across\nthe Harlem River.\n\nHaving shown that nature has particularly favored that portion of the\ncity which lies west of the park, and that, from present indications,\nthe highest art will prevail in the magnificent improvements which\nare there going on, we will mention another cause, which will add\nweight to the many reasons already adduced, why it should in the\nfuture become the home of the fashion and wealth of the metropolis.\nIf we look at the great capitals of Europe, we will notice the\ngeneral tendency the affluent classes have shown to select their\nabodes in the western sections of these cities. Paris, London, St.\nPetersburg, Berlin, and others show this conclusively. In each, the\nwestern section is covered with the elegant palaces of the rulers\nand the costly mansions of the rich; while on the east side is found\nthe bustling activity of the work-shops and manufactories. In a\ntranslation from _Le Correspondant_ published in the April number of\nthis magazine, the writer, speaking of this subject, says,\n\n     \"In visiting the ruins of Pompeii and other ancient cities, I\n     have observed, as well as M. Junod, that this custom dates from\n     the highest antiquity. In those cities, as is seen at Paris in\n     our day, the largest cemeteries are found in the eastern parts,\n     and generally none in the western. M. Junod, examining the reason\n     of so general a fact, thinks it is connected with _atmospheric\n     pressure_.\n\n     \"M. Elie de Beaumont has since mentioned some facts which tend\n     to prove the constancy and generality of the rule laid down by\n     M. Junod. He noticed in most of the large cities this tendency\n     of the wealthy class to move to the same side--generally, the\n     western--unless hindered by certain local obstacles. Turin, Li\u00e8ge,\n     and Caen are examples of this. M. Moquin-Tandon has observed the\n     same thing at Montpellier and Toulouse.\"\n\nIn the first part of this article the influence of \"_atmospheric\npressure_\" was fully spoken of, as also the effect of the winds so\nfavorable to residents on the west side. With these facts in view, it\nis easy to foresee that those who possess means will always purchase\nhomes in this portion of the city, which offers the best security\nagainst disease and the greatest guarantee for continued physical\nhealth.\n\nIt is curious to go back to the commencement of the present century,\nand to note the changes in location the growth of the city has\nobliged the wealthy to make since that time. In the early days, State\nstreet, and then Bowling Green, offered to this class attractions\nsuperior to those of any other portion of the city. The ample shade\nof the latter, its stately forest-trees, verdant lawn, and beautiful\nwalks, with the refreshing sea-breeze constantly blowing in from old\nocean, and the magnificent moving panorama in the harbor, made it a\ngreat favorite of our forefathers. They whiled away their time in\nthis charming resort, smoking their pipes, and watching the merry\ngambols of the children. It may be, they canvassed the future of this\ngoodly city, which under their thrifty influences already promised\nwell, never dreaming, however, of the gigantic growth its future\nwas to develop. In time this garden spot changed into the great\n_entrep\u00f4t_, where emigrant ships daily landed vast numbers eager to\nobtain employment and homes in this new country where every thing\npromised wealth and happiness. Greenwich street next absorbed within\nits precincts the votaries of fashion; soon after, it had for rivals\nin public favor East-Broadway and College Place. They, in turn, were\ndeserted for the location between Fourth and Eighth streets. But the\nsame agency being at work here as below, soon brought Union Square\ninto requisition. After this, Fifth and Madison avenues became the\ngrand centres of the opulent classes; and to-day the entire course\nof the former, with its long line of brown-stone architecture and\nregal grandeur, attracts the attention and challenges the admiration\nof the world. But after this avenue reaches Ninetieth street, its\ngrade descends rapidly to the low level of the Harlem plains, and is\nno longer so desirable for residences. At the rate it is now being\nbuilt upon, it will soon be completed to this point, and then in what\ndirection will this current turn? The Harlem Railroad will always\nprove an insurmountable objection to Fourth avenue, which is behind\nit; and it does not require a prophet's power to foresee that the\nGrand Boulevard, the garden parks overlooking the Hudson, and the\ngreat aids to general healthfulness possessed by the west side, will\nprove sufficiently attractive to cause the next move to be in the\ndirection of the beautiful sites which border these improvements.\n\nThe proposed widening of Broadway from Thirty-second to Fifty-ninth\nstreet adds certainty to this prediction. We think it most\nunfortunate that this change did not commence as low down as\nSeventeenth street, and we hope it may yet be found advisable to\ndo so. We would then have a noble thoroughfare starting from the\nBattery, crossing the various avenues diagonally until it reached\nthe beautiful circle at the Eighth avenue entrance to the park; and\nthen continuing as the Grand Boulevard to the upper extremity of the\nisland. This measure, which seems to meet with the disapprobation\nof a large portion of the community, if carried out, would, we are\nconvinced, prove a crowning glory to the metropolis; and it is but\nfitting that the thoroughfare which is to vie with any other in the\nworld should have a continuance in the lower part of the city worthy\nits princely magnificence; for it would then be a subject of pride\nnot only to us but to the whole country, which would regard it as a\nnational ornament.\n\nWe may also look forward to an ever-increasing commercial importance\nfor the east side, with its long line of piers fronting the harbor,\nalways filled with vessels bearing the flags of every commercial\nnation of the world.\n\nIts shore will be covered with capacious warehouses and immense\nmanufactories, from which will resound the noisy bustle and unceasing\nactivity of trade.\n\nA glance at the residences in the different locations mentioned\nabove, as being at various times the homes of those possessing\nwealth, will show that each successive change has been marked by\nan increase in the lavish expenditure of means for the purpose of\nproducing architectural display. With this fact before us, we may\nform an idea of the palatial houses with which, by means of their\nrapidly increasing wealth, the rising generation will crown the\nhill-sides of the western section.\n\nWhen the proposed improvements for this portion of our city have been\ncompleted, the whole, bounded on the one side by Central Park, with\nits many natural and artificial beauties appearing like a fairy-land,\nand on the other by the dancing waters of the Hudson, will give to\nour metropolis attractions superior to those possessed by the most\ncelebrated cities of Europe.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[62] _Encyclopedia._\n\n[63] New York _World_, February 15th, 1868.\n\n[64] New York _World_, February 15th, 1868.\n\n[65] New York _World_, February 15th, 1868.\n\n[66] \"Influence of Locality on Duration of Life.\" CATHOLIC WORLD,\nApril, 1869.\n\n[67] _Public Parks._ John H. Rauch, M.D., of Chicago.\n\n[68] _Public Parks._ John H. Rauch, M.D.\n\n[69] New York _World_, February 15th, 1868.\n\n[70] _New American Cyclop\u00e6dia._\n\n[71] _New American Cyclop\u00e6dia._\n\n\n\n\nTHE BASILICA OF ST. PETER.\n\nTRANSLATED FROM LES ETUDES RELIGIEUSES, HISTORIQUES ET LITTERAIRES.\n\n\nWhile visiting, two or three months since, the Vatican Basilica, it\nseemed to me there was a certain correspondence, a kind of harmony,\nbetween this monument and the great event of which it is soon to\nbe the theatre. Since that time new observations have strengthened\nthis first impression; then reminiscences of a different kind, the\nperusal of various works, unfortunately too limited in numbers, and\nespecially a more attentive examination of St. Peter's, have had the\neffect of defining more clearly what at first was only a vague and\nconfused perception.\n\nBefore my pilgrimage to Rome, I was so fortunate as to visit one\nof the cities which had for a long time been the objects of my\nmost ardent curiosity. I refer to the humble Tyrolean city where,\nmore than three hundred years ago, was held the last and most\nglorious of the general councils. The city of Trent presents nothing\nextraordinary to the eye of the traveller except, perhaps, a kind\nof trident of mountains which gives it its name, and which forms\naround it a group of natural fortifications truly grand. Certain\nmonuments, among others the cathedral of a Roman style, and\nsomewhat interesting, appeared to merit some attention. But that\nwhich attracts and interests the Catholic heart in the most lively\ndegree is the church where the holy Oecumenical Council held its\nimmortal sessions. It bears the name of St. Mary Major, the same as\nthe great Roman basilica so generally known and venerated. In truth,\nthis renowned title is hardly appropriate, if the dimensions of the\nedifice and its architectural merits alone are considered. In these\nrespects it more nearly resembles our modest Parisian church of Notre\nDame des Victoires. This comparison, without being wholly just, may\nyet give a good idea of the sanctuary rendered illustrious by the\nCouncil of Trent.\n\nAs to the local traditions respecting this august assembly, a sojourn\nfar too short prevented me from collecting them as fully as I could\nhave wished. According to the information of a respectable priest\nwith whom I conversed a short time, a great revival of faith, the\neffects of which are still visible, took place in the city on the\nthird commemorative centenary in the month of June, 1863. This same\necclesiastic likewise informed me that the memory of our great Laynez\nhas always been dear to the popular memory, and that the greatest\neulogium that can be passed upon a man who devotes himself to works\nof charity is to compare him to that indefatigable apostle. Probably\nhis learned discourses are nearly forgotten even in the places where\nthey were delivered; his preaching is only remembered because of his\ndeeds, a new proof, among so many others, in support of the divine\nword, \"Wisdom passeth away, ... but charity shall never pass away.\"\n\nNot far from the entrance of Santa Maria Maggiore is a monument,\nerected in 1855 for the first anniversary of the proclamation of the\ndogma of the Immaculate Conception. It bears a statue of her \"who\nhas destroyed all heresies throughout the world,\" and for whom the\nfathers of the Council of Trent formally stipulated an exception\nin the decrees respecting the doctrine of original sin. I noticed\nin the interior of the church a painting representing one of the\nreunions of the council, and especially the crucifix which stood\non a table in the centre of the nave and presided, so to speak, at\nthose solemn assemblies. This crucifix may now be seen above one\nof the side altars. It is regarded with extreme veneration by the\nfaithful. I will not attempt to depict my emotion in celebrating the\nholy mysteries before this sacred image with the same chalice the\ncardinal legate had used, which was kindly loaned me by the venerable\nchaplain. You can easily imagine that the place, the circumstances,\nand those precious relics, without mentioning my own inclinations,\nimposed it on me as a duty to offer up the holy sacrifice for the\nsuccess of the approaching council.\n\nOn the whole, the city of Trent and the sanctuary of the council do\nnot fully correspond with the solemn grandeur of the event which took\nplace therein. It is unnecessary to say that this kind of contrast\ndoes not shock in the least a mind at all familiar with objects\nconnected with the faith. This want of correspondence is frequently\nto be noticed even in a more striking degree. The least supernatural\neye soon forgets the whole edifice and these material objects only\nto behold the great Christian wonders once wrought within so small a\nspace. We say to ourselves, with profound emotion, that this is the\ncenacle of modern times--a real cenacle, in truth, where the light of\nthe Holy Ghost was diffused more abundantly than had ever taken place\nsince the day of Pentecost.\n\nWithout any great effort of the imagination I could see a figure of\nthe religious renovation produced by the holy Council of Trent in\ncircumstances, wholly accidental, that occurred at the time of my\njourney. It was during the latter part of the month of October. On\nthe way from Botzen the country had been ravaged by an inundation\nof the Adige. Everywhere was a scene of desolation sad to behold.\nThe following morning, on the contrary, just as we were starting for\nItaly, a glorious sun rose over the city of Trent. The bold summits\nthat surround it were crowned with such lights as are only seen in\nmountainous countries. Clouds of magic brilliancy hung here and there\nover the deep gorges and on the heights, the fields had resumed their\njoyous and smiling aspect, even the traces of the inundation were\nless sad to behold, and our eyes could linger with a pleasure almost\nwithout alloy on the magnificence of nature.\n\nThe council of the nineteenth century, for which preparations are\nnow being made at Rome and throughout the civilized world, cannot\nbe less fruitful than that of the sixteenth in the regeneration and\nsalvation of souls. The gravest reasons on every hand appear to\njustify this hope, and perhaps it is allowable to find a significant\nsign of it in the happy choice of the place where this great court of\nCatholicity is to be held. At all events, the basilica of St. Peter\nis certainly the most suitable theatre in the whole world in which to\nassemble an oecumenical council. Every thing about it is marvellously\nadapted to this purpose; every thing seems to reveal a preconceived\nharmony that divine Providence is so often pleased to manifest in\nthe accomplishment of his august designs. In speaking thus, I only\nexpress differently, if I am not mistaken, the idea of Sixtus III.\nin the fifth century. This pontiff, having convoked in the ancient\nbasilica of St. Peter a certain number of bishops, wrote to Cyril,\nthe patriarch of Alexandria, to announce this synod, and, among other\nthings, wrote these remarkable words: \"_Ad beatum Petrum Apostolum\nuniversa fraternitas convenit. Ecce auditorium congruens auditoribus,\nconveniens audiendis_.\"[72] \"The whole brotherhood meets at the tomb\nof blessed Peter the Apostle. Behold a place befitting both the\nhearers and the things to be heard.\"\n\nIt cannot be doubted that this suitability, so well understood by\nSixtus III., also occurred to Pius IX., when he designated the tomb\nof St. Peter as the rendezvous of his brethren in the episcopate.\nIt seems to me desirable that an inscription in a conspicuous place\nshould bear the fine expression of Sixtus III. Its meaning and\nadaptation with regard to the approaching council would be more\nstrikingly apparent than they could have been at the particular synod\nof the fifth century.\n\nLet us now enter this august temple and regard with admiration, as\nwe pass, the colossal portico and the vast nave, whose length and\nheight cannot at once be taken in by the unaccustomed eye. Almost at\nthe extremity of the nave, at the right, is the bronze statue of St.\nPeter, which for more than fourteen centuries has received the homage\nof pilgrims. Let us not forget to prostrate ourselves after their\nexample, and press our trembling lips to the feet of the apostle,\nliterally worn by the pious kisses of so many generations. A few\nsteps further on, and we stand before the Confession, that is, the\nglorious sepulchre of the first vicar of Jesus Christ, around which\na hundred lights do not cease to burn night and day. After kneeling\nfor a few moments, not without being penetrated by a powerful but\nsweet emotion which stirs the soul to its very depth, let us rise and\nlook first at the superb baldaquin of gilded bronze which rises to\nthe height of eighty-six feet over the grand altar and the tomb of\nSt. Peter. Above bends over us \"the Pantheon raised in the air\" by\nthe genius of Michael Angelo--the incomparable dome, measuring one\nhundred and thirty feet in diameter, and four hundred and twenty-six\nfeet in height on the outside.\n\nIf, from this central point of the basilica, we look to the right, we\nsee the northern transept extending more than one hundred and sixty\nfeet from the Confession. The altar at the end is consecrated to the\nSaints Processus and Martinian--two Roman soldiers, at first jailers\nof the apostle St. Peter, and then his disciples, baptized by his\nown hand. \"From that time,\" says the Abb\u00e9 Gerbet, \"the remembrance\nof these two saints has constantly clung to that of St. Peter, their\nmaster and their friend, as the shadow follows the body.\" Martyred\nthe same year as he, they were buried near the Aurelian way, not far\nfrom the Vatican. The antique statue of St. Peter, now venerated in\nthe basilica, was formerly in a monastery connected with the cemetery\nwhere these two martyrs reposed. It was afterward placed in the\noratory which Pascal I. had erected in their honor in the ancient\nVatican basilica, whither he had their relics transported. The ashes\nof these two jailers of St. Peter always in a manner gravitated\naround him, until, placed here at his side, they have become for ever\nhis acolytes in this magnificent crypt, as they were his guardians in\nthe dark dungeons of the capitol.[73]\n\nAnother glory is in reserve for Saints Processus and Martinian.\nBefore their altar and in the spacious chapel which is dedicated\nto them are to be held the solemn sessions of the council. Let us\nhope with firm assurance that these faithful guardians of the first\npope, and his immortal acolytes, will keep invisible guard around\nhis successor, and around the bishops, his brethren, when they are\nreunited in this sanctuary to continue the work of the great Fisher\nof Souls.\n\nReturning from the altar of Saints Processus and Martinian, before\nresuming our place by the Confession, let us notice at the left, at\nthe end of the Gregorian chapel, the tomb of Gregory XVI. and the\nmarble statue with his hands raised to bless. Connected with him\nmany interesting thoughts came into my mind. He is the last of the\npopes who joined the church triumphant. His tomb and that of St.\nPeter, so near each other, bring before us the two extremities of\nthe great chain of apostolical succession which extends back from\nour own age to the first Christian era. The intermediate links\nare known to us all through the authentic records of history, and\nthey are represented here almost entire under our eyes. Look first\nat the tombs and statues of the greater number of popes since the\ncommencement of the sixteenth century. It is sufficient to name a\nfew of them. There is the funereal monument of Pius VI. at the foot\nof the staircase leading to the Confession. He merited this post\nof honor, as has been justly remarked, because he was \"the first\npope who died from the martyrdom of exile and captivity after the\nconstruction of the new basilica.\" Two other pontiffs, Benedict\nXIV. and Clement XIII., are entombed close by the transversal nave\nwhere the council is to be held. They will be there on each side\nof the august assembly--the double personification of clerical\nlearning and pontifical firmness. The throne of Pius IX. will\nalmost touch the tomb of Clement XIII. A little further on, in the\nsouthern nave, is the monument of one of the greatest pontiffs of\nthe seventeenth century--that of Innocent XI., the firm antagonist\nof Louis XIV. At the end of the choir, or apsis, the sixteenth\ncentury is represented by Paul III. His tomb is at the right of the\nsymbolic chair of St. Peter, which is supported by the four great\ndoctors. He also was worthy of this privileged spot; for his name\nis indissolubly connected with what have been called \"two of the\ngreatest providential events of modern times,\" (and I can say that\nthe expression is certainly true of the first of these:) he convoked\nthe Council of Trent, and was the first to give his approval to the\nformation of the Society of Jesus. Among the tombs of the pontiffs\nof the fifteenth century we select at hazard those of Sixtus IV.,\nNicholas V., and Eugenius IV., all three rendered illustrious by\nthe great events of their pontificates. The ashes of the two last\nare in the subterranean church of the Vatican. Only six or seven\ntombs represent the preceding ages in the upper church. They are\nthose of St. Gregory the Great, St. Leo the Great, Sts. Leo II.,\nIII., IV., and IX. The crypts spread before us a much longer list.\nConspicuous therein is Boniface VIII., the pontiff who declared the\nfirst jubilee of the fourteenth century; and then, going back into\nthe preceding ages, Alexander III.; Calixtus II.; Urban II., the\nfirst organizer of the Crusades; St. Nicholas I., one of the men who\nmerited by the most brilliant claims the title of great; Adrian I.,\nthe friend of Charlemagne, and celebrated by him in that immortal\nelegy so worthy of the great pope and of the great emperor, and still\nto be read in the portico of St. Peter's; St. Agatho, made glorious\nby the sixth oecumenical council, held at Constantinople; Honorius\nI., the beautiful inscription on whose tomb so eloquently avenges\nundeserved calumny; St. Boniface IV., who consecrated the Pantheon;\nand then a great number of other glorious pontiffs, till we come to\nSt. Simplicius, the second successor of St. Leo the Great. Dating\nfrom the latter, there is an interruption of more than two centuries\nin the pontifical sepulchres of the Vatican. The popes of this time\nrepose in the catacombs, particularly in that of St. Calixtus. But\nuntil the year 202 all the others, with the exception of St. Clement\nI. and of St. Alexander I. in going back from St. Victor to St.\nLinus, the immediate successor of St. Peter, have been deposited\nnear the Prince of the Apostles in the place where St. Anacletus,\neven in the first century, constructed \"the memorial of the blessed\nPeter called the Confession,\" according to the expression of an\nancient inscription on the walls of this sacred crypt. When a portion\nof the pavement was removed in order to construct the monument of\nPius VI., the bones of the first successors of the apostle were\nexposed. Their faces were found turned toward his tomb.\n\nAltogether, the Vatican basilica and its crypts contain the tombs\nof about one hundred and forty popes. Let us not fail to remark\nthat almost all the others are in the catacombs, or the neighboring\nchurches; only a small number of popes have been buried out of Rome.\nWe have then here, without going out of St. Peter's, the greater part\nof that dynasty which is the most ancient and the most glorious in\nthe history of the world. I refer to the privilege it possesses--and\nit alone--of tracing a succession, uninterrupted and of incontestable\nlegitimacy, back to him whom Jesus Christ established as head and\nfoundation of the universal church. Some slight shadows, I know,\nseem to hover here and there over certain links in this descent of\neighteen hundred years, but this cannot disturb an unprejudiced mind\nfor a moment. The glory of the whole line diffuses too powerful and\nsubduing a light for that! Where is the rival church that can show in\nits history, in its monuments, its temples, and even in its tombs, a\nsuccession, a connection, an antiquity, and a proof of catholicity,\nworthy, I will not say of equalling, but of being compared with\nthis? Christian tradition, the liturgy, the frequent language of\nschismatical churches themselves, are agreed in giving the pope\nthe name of Apostolic. This name, as well as that of Catholic,\nof which St. Augustine boasted with such good reason against the\nDonatists, would alone be a strong title in favor of Rome. At all\nevents, it is the unique and incommunicable privilege of the Roman\nChurch to have been built upon the foundation of the apostles--_super\nfundamentum apostolorum_. And this expression of St. Paul, which\nhas not perhaps been sufficiently noticed, is verified at Rome with\na fulness of evidence truly wonderful. It has, in truth, pleased\nDivine Providence to consecrate this church in the eyes of all with\nthe special characteristic of apostolicity, to collect within its\nwalls, if not the entire bodies of all the apostles of Jesus Christ,\nat least considerable portions of their relics. A part of the bones\nof St. Paul repose fraternally beside those of St. Peter in the\nVatican, and, as if to attest more strongly the brotherhood of these\ntwo founders of Christian Rome, a part of the body of St. Peter has\nbeen transported to the basilica of St. Paul beyond the walls, and\ntheir skulls are placed together at St. John Lateran; both thus\ntaking possession of the three great basilicas of Rome. The bodies\nof Sts. Simon and Jude are also at the Vatican. Those of St. James\nthe Minor and St. Philip are in the Church of the Holy Apostles, that\nof St. Matthias at St. Mary Major, and that of St. Bartholomew in\nthe basilica that bears his name. Different churches at Rome possess\nimportant relics of other members of the apostolic college, as well\nas of St. Mark and St. Luke. One apostle delayed longer than the rest\njoining this rendezvous of the glorious dead, and yet it was only\nproper, it would seem, that he should be near Simon Peter, for it was\nhis brother in the flesh, his elder brother. But this vacancy was at\nlast filled up by the agency of Him who directs all human events.\nToward the middle of the fifteenth century, Thomas Paleologus, King\nof Peloponnesus, fearing that the head of St. Andrew, preserved until\nthat time in Achaia, would fall into the hands of the Turks, wished\nto preserve it by confiding it to the Roman Church. At this news\ngreat was the joy of the magnanimous pontiff whose name, destined\nto cast such brilliancy over succeeding ages, was just becoming\nrenowned. Pius II., in order to receive this precious relic, had a\nprocession and ceremonies of extraordinary solemnity, an enthusiastic\ndescription of which has been handed down to us in the annals of\nthat time. The sacred head, which the Saviour of the world \"had more\nthan once, without doubt, touched with his hands and with his divine\nlips,\" (these are the words of Pius II., in an admirable discourse\non this occasion,) was placed not far from the tomb of St. Peter,\nwhere it remained till a sacrilegious hand dared to carry it away\nfrom its sanctuary for a time. But, as is known, Pius IX. had the joy\nof finding it some days after with the seals intact, and henceforth\nthe homage of the faithful will not cease to offer reparation for\nthe outrage committed.[74] To increase devotion toward St. Andrew, a\nunique privilege, which had its origin in the delicate inspirations\nof Christian sentiment, has long been granted to him; the colossal\nstatue of the brother of the Prince of the Apostles stands before the\naltar of the Confession, and on a level with the three great statues\nwhich recall the precious relics of the Saviour's Passion.\n\nThus, it is evident, the apostolic college is in a manner assembled\nin the city of Rome. \"The legend, according to which all the\napostles assembled together to witness the last moments of the\nBlessed Virgin, has in a manner been verified as to their mortal\nremains around the tomb of St. Peter. The first council of Jerusalem\nseems to be held here permanently.\"[75]\n\nThis idea appears to me to give an admirably beautiful significance\nto one of the most solemn prayers of the liturgy which is chanted\nat the mass of the apostles and especially on the festivals of Sts.\nPeter and Paul. Imagine that we hear resounding the voice of Pius\nIX., of a compass and harmony equal to the basilica itself, which\nit fills with its powerful undulations. Listen to this prayer which\nhe addresses the eternal Shepherd: _Gregem tuum, Pastor \u00e6terne,\nnon deseras, sed per beatos apostolos tuos continua protectione\ncustodias; ut iisdem rectoribus gubernetur quos operis tui vicarios\neidem contulisti pr\u00e6esse pastores._ \"Desert not, O eternal Shepherd,\nthy flock, but through the blessed apostles grant it thy unceasing\nprotection; that it may be governed by those rulers whom thou hast\nappointed to continue thy work and to be the pastors of thy people.\"\nDoes it not seem that the truly providential presence of the sacred\nrelics of all the apostles at Rome is like a continual reply of Jesus\nChrist to the supplication of his high-priest? Or raise your eyes\ntoward the radiant dome, as Pius IX. often loves to do while he is\nchanting, and while the _sursum corda_ of his soul is manifested by\nhis looks, do you not behold the mosaics gleaming there on high like\ncelestial apparitions? See the eternal Shepherd who does not cease to\nwatch over his flock, and around him his blessed apostles, his vicars\non earth, who now from the highest heavens continue to protect and\ngovern the lambs and sheep of the divine fold.\n\nI have not yet had the great Christian joy of assisting at the\nfestival of St. Peter in the basilica itself; but on another occasion\nI experienced in the same place, leaning against the balustrade of\nthe Confession, a joy almost comparable. It was on Palm-Sunday,\nwhen the choristers of the Sistine chapel made the arches resound\nwith the grand and solemn affirmations of the Catholic Credo. I\nshall never forget the quiver that passed through my frame when I\nheard resounding these simple words as they were taken up one after\nanother: _et unam--sanctam--Catholicam--et apostolicam--ecclesiam_\n... \"and one--holy--Catholic--and apostolic--church.\" Then my eyes\nwere irresistibly attracted toward the dome, and through the light\nwhich at that moment flooded it I had a sight of the glorious\nfigures with which it is adorned, and which appeared to me like a\nreflection of the church triumphant in the heavens. Then I recalled\nthe gorgeous procession I had just seen pass through the grand nave\nof the basilica--Pius IX. borne on his _Sedia Gestatoria_, and before\nhim the imposing _cort\u00e9ge_ of cardinals, bishops, and prelates, all\nbearing in their hands the triumphal palms--and it seemed to me that\nthis immense inclosure expanded to a still larger size, or rather,\nits walls vanished and gave place to the church universal dispersed\nin the four quarters of the globe, but all bound to the tomb of St.\nPeter, in perpetual communion with him, receiving from him by a\nconstant influence its divine characteristics of unity, sanctity,\ncatholicity, and apostolicity, living by his faith and his love,\nruled and governed by his authority, and always spiritually present\nwhere he is to be found, according to the words of St. Ambrose, the\ntruth of which I had never comprehended so fully, _Ubi Petrus, ibi\necclesia!_ \"Where Peter is, there is the church.\"\n\nBut let us leave these retrospective ideas and evocations, and rather\nendeavor to discover in the basilica of St. Peter the visible signs\nof unity, sanctity, and catholicity, as well as of apostolicity, the\nauthentic marks of which we have just noticed.\n\nAnd first, let us read around the dome these words in colossal\nletters on a golden ground of mosaic, TU ES PETRUS; ET SUPER HANC\nPETRAM \u00c6DIFICABO ECCLESIAM MEA; ET TIBI DABO CLAVES REGNI COELORUM.\n\"Thou art Peter; and upon this rock I will build my church; and I\nwill give to thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven.\" And a little\nlower on the frieze, above the two pillars of the choir, these\nwords recently placed on a similar ground, _Hinc una fides mundo\nrefulget_, \"Hence one faith shines upon the world;\" to correspond\nwith which these other words are hereafter to be engraved above the\nopposite pillars, _Hinc sacerdotii unitas exoritur_, \"Hence the\nunity of the priesthood arises.\" There is a symbolic commentary on\nthis last inscription in the urn placed on the tomb of St. Peter.\nIt contains the palliums which the pope sends to the metropolitans.\nThey are kept in this place to signify that that is the origin and\nsource of all jurisdiction and all ecclesiastical authority. This\nurn and these inscriptions are sufficient to make us understand the\nwhole mystery of Catholic unity. This unity, indeed, is comprehended\nin the decisive words which established Peter as the foundation of\nthe church and confided to him the keys of the kingdom of heaven.\nPeter thus became the true representative of Jesus Christ and the\npersonification, so to speak, of the divine authority. And he\nhimself in his turn transmitted this plenitude of power to the Roman\npontiff, his successor, his inheritor, his universal legatee, thus\nliving again, as it were, in his successor, investing him with his\nauthority, and communicating to him by a continued operation the full\nand entire power of feeding, directing, and governing the universal\nchurch, according to the dogmatic definition of the Council of\nFlorence. From this centre of power the apostolic authority extends\nthrough all ranks of the hierarchy, and by a wonderful ubiquity is\ndiffused without being weakened to the lowest grades of the Catholic\npriesthood. Patriarchs, primates, metropolitans, archbishops, and\nbishops throughout the world are all armed with the plenitude of\nthis authority; all derive from this source their jurisdiction\nand the legitimate exercise of their rights; all, as they love to\nacknowledge, govern their own churches \"by the grace of God and of\nthe apostolic see.\" And this is why throughout the church there is\nthe same government, the same doctrine, the same administration\nof the sacraments and divine worship. There is but one rule of\ngovernment; for, as Bossuet (who was always incomparable when the\nwhole truth illumined his soul) has somewhere said, \"There is such\na sympathy in all parts of the body of the church, that what each\nbishop does according to the rule and spirit of Catholic unity, the\nwhole church, the entire episcopate and the chief bishop, does with\nhim.\" There is the same doctrine; for the Roman see teaches all\nothers, and these again all the faithful, or, to express it better,\nthe different grades of teachers (it is still Bossuet who speaks)\n\"have only one doctrine, by reason of the necessary connection they\nhave with the chair which Peter and his successors have always\noccupied.\"[76] Finally, the administration of the sacraments and\nthe divine worship are the same; for the central authority of Peter\nintervenes in some manner in all the sacramental functions, whether\nto render them legitimate, or, as is seen in the ministry of the\nconfessional, to make them efficacious and valid; and besides, it is\nonly in communion with Peter that God accepts the offering of the\ndivine sacrifice as well as all other acts of worship and prayer.\n\nThe perfect unity that reigns in the hierarchy and the government of\nthe church engenders a not less perfect unity in the entire body of\nthe faithful. Indeed, all the members of the church are reunited and\nbound together by means of the central authority of Peter, always\npresent in the pope, and, through him, in all the representatives of\nthe episcopal hierarchy. All the faithful recognize this peculiar\nauthority as that of Jesus Christ. It is by submission and obedience\nto it that they rise when fallen. It is by faith in this authority\nand its depositaries of every degree that they receive the teachings\nof the true faith. It is to this they have recourse in order to be\nadmitted to the participation of the sacraments and all the treasures\nof the church. And thus all, whoever they may be, remain attached\nto this authority by the intelligence that affirms the same truth,\nthe will that observes the same law, and the heart that draws from\nthe same sources of life; a unity of faith, of obedience, and of the\nsacraments--a triple unity realized by Jesus Christ and his vicar, to\nwhom all hearts, all inclinations, and all minds adhere as luminous\nrays to their centre and source. It is true that this adhesion has\nnot among all the same strength and efficacy; sometimes it is purely\nexterior, and yet it exists in a certain manner till the rupture\nis consummated either by excommunication or by manifest schism and\nheresy. But, thanks be to God, the number of the faithful is always\nimmense in whom this union is full and entire. And they accomplish\nthereby a mystery of unity still more close and wonderful than that\nwhich we have just considered. It is given to the authority of Peter,\nwho visibly unites the faithful, to bind them also together invisibly\nby the ineffable tie of the communion of saints--the crown and full\nconsummation of unity. But no; the vicar of Christ has yet another\nprivilege by virtue of the power that he has received of binding and\nloosing in heaven as well as on earth--he opens the entrance to the\neternal mansions. The souls submissive till the end to his authority,\nand ruled by the power of his attraction, rise and mount to become\nliving stones in the harmonious construction of the celestial temple:\n\n    _Fabri polita malleo,\n    Hanc saxa molem construunt,\n    Aptisque juncta nexibus,\n    Locantur in fastigio._\n\n     \"This vast edifice, even to the pediment, is composed of stones\n     polished by the mallet of the workman and skilfully joined\n     together.\"\n\nIt is thus that the gigantic edifice of the Vatican dome, after\ntaking root around the tomb of the apostles, springs up from the soil\non its four enormous supports, binding them together by the key-stone\nof its vast arches, and then, gathering itself together, rises more\nand more resplendent, more and more transfigured, till, at the moment\nof uniting all its ascending lines, it half opens to form a sublime\nsanctuary around the Ancient of Days, whose form beams forth from its\nvery top.\n\nIt is grand to assist in the basilica of St. Peter at one of these\nsolemnities which are like splendid foreshadowings of the future\nstate of souls in their glorious union with God. Behold around the\nchoir the inscriptions engraved on marble. They recall the dearest\nand most solemn festival that has yet been celebrated in our age--the\nproclamation of the dogma of the Immaculate Conception. That day\nwitnessed under these arches the triumph of Catholic unity, as well\nas the triumph of the Virgin conceived without sin. The accounts of\nocular witnesses, still remembered by all, have made us familiar with\nthat great manifestation of the _cor unum_ and the _anima una_, of\nthe \"one heart\" and \"one soul,\" when, at a word from Pius IX., the\nact of faith, full, absolute, and unanimous, burst forth in loving\ntones from the hearts of the two hundred prelates and bishops, and\nthe multitudes of priests reunited in this basilica, then resounded\nwith one accord from the souls of forty or fifty thousand of the\nfaithful likewise assembled in the same church, and was prolonged\nin repeated echoes from the lips of the two hundred millions of\nCatholics scattered throughout the world. Since that time two or\nthree manifestations almost as glorious have been made in this\nbasilica, and in all cases the great episcopal hierarchy, represented\nby a vast deputation, have inclined before the word of their august\nchief, believing what he believes, approving what he approves, and\ncondemning what he condemns; and in all cases also the universal\nvoice of true Catholics, whether present at Rome bodily or only in\nspirit and in heart, has risen to hail with one acclamation the\ninfallible decisions of the successor of Peter.\n\nBut how can we forget the last festival, so sweetly and deliciously\ntouching, which has just been celebrated in this grand basilica? That\nalso was a brilliant manifestation and triumph of unity; of that\nunity the sweetest and most beautiful of all others--that of brethren\nof the great Catholic family around their father and their pope, to\ncelebrate with him the golden wedding of his old age so long and\npainfully tried, but ever courageous and serene, and always blessed\nby God. There were mingled people of all ages, of every condition,\nand, morally speaking, of every race and nation on the globe. And\nthese representatives of all nations, divided among themselves not\nless by distance than by their interests, prejudices, and hereditary\nenmities, and perhaps--who knows?--on the point of renewing\nold fratricidal struggles, drawn in against their will by the\ncalculations of human policy--they were all there, drawn together and\nunited by mutual love for their common father! And doubtless there\nwas among them another source of division. I refer to divergence of\nopinions--opinions more or less correct, more or less at variance\nwith the truth. There are always such in the bosom of Catholic unity.\nBut admire the strength of this unity, remaining still intact in the\nmidst of these elements of discord. We know that every assent given\nto mere opinions is necessarily conditional in this sense--that\nevery Catholic worthy of the name is always ready to yield them\nto the teachings of revealed truth. Adhesion to the faith, on the\ncontrary, is absolute, without condition or reserve, and moreover,\nthis adhesion extends not only to the truths that the church requires\nus directly and expressly to believe, but also to the whole order of\ntruths contained in the depository of revelation. What takes place,\nthen, when the soul of the believer finds himself clinging to an\nerroneous opinion? That which happens in the physical order when two\nforces are in opposition to one another--the more feeble is absorbed\nby the overruling force. By virtue of the same law of moral dynamics,\nfaith, which is an absolute affirmation, neutralizes and absorbs an\nerroneous opinion, which is only a conditional affirmation; in other\nterms, the latter is disavowed--retracted by the very fact that he\nmakes a genuine act of faith. And this is how, among Catholics, the\nunity of the faith bursts forth and triumphs even in the midst of the\ncauses that would seem to destroy, or at least to modify, it.\n\nYou will not expect me to describe this sacerdotal festival in\ndetail. It was at once solemn and grand, as well as simple, popular,\nand affecting. Besides, other accounts have made you as familiar\nwith all this as it is possible to be with what is indescribable. I\nwill only select from the wonderful whole one thing which perhaps\nescaped general attention. It was at the moment when the grandest _Te\nDeum_ I ever heard was resounding beneath the arches of the basilica\nlike the voice of the great deep. When this verse of the Ambrosian\nhymn was being chanted, _Te per orbem terrarum sancta confitetur\necclesia!_--\"The holy church acknowledges thee throughout the whole\nearth\"--Pius IX. raised his hands to his eyes as if to collect his\nthoughts. It was as if his mind wandered off from one hemisphere to\nthe other--to every region where there is a Catholic church--and saw\nthe entire world communing in thought with him, praying with him,\nand with him rendering glory and thanksgiving to God. And indeed, as\nyou know, at that same hour, millions of souls scattered over the\nglobe were united in a general concert of prayer in order to join\nthemselves more completely to him who was more than ever the great\nChief of Prayer, as the savages of the new world sublimely style the\nvicar of Jesus Christ.\n\nI can boldly declare that in no time, no place, did any man, any king\nand father of a nation, any pontiff, perhaps any saint, have such an\novation, such a manifestation of universal love; and I say further\nthat this was not merely a triumph, but a miracle of supernatural\nunion in the church--a miracle doubtless presaging still greater to\ncome.\n\nI have said that this jubilee of Pius IX. drew representatives\nfrom the whole Catholic world to Rome. The city of unity was on\nthat day also the city of Catholicity _par excellence_. This last\ncharacteristic, however, Rome does not manifest only on extraordinary\noccasions, but permanently by its physical and moral position. \"If a\nnation possessed a cathedral surrounded by a portico to which each\nprovince had furnished an arcade or column which bore its name,\nthis monument would be a harmonious emblem of the diversity to be\nfound in the unity of this people. There is something analogous to\nthis in the Christian world.\" In the shadow of the great basilica\nof the popes most nations have their church, their festivals, and\ntheir national tombs. Each one finds some sacred monument bearing\non the history of his country. Every one breathes here, in the\natmosphere of religion, his native air. National establishments,\nreunited in the same city by political or commercial interests,\nrepresent concord less than division. Counting-rooms are rivals,\naltars are brethren. This is one cause of the sentiment that almost\nevery one experiences who lives for some time in Rome, far from his\nnative country. \"Nowhere does one feel so much at home as in this\ncity.\"[77] If one comes from a remote province of Lower Brittany or\nfrom the extremities of Ireland, from the depths of Ethiopia, the\nIndies, or the two Americas, he finds everywhere sanctuaries, tombs,\ninstitutions, offerings _ex-voto_, and indeed all kinds of mementoes\nthat recall the far-off country. The prelacy, the priesthood, and\nthe religious orders have representatives from all countries. The\narmy itself has a cosmopolitan character. You see there, under the\nnoble garb of the Zouave, the dark skin of the African beside the\nwhite face of the Dutchman or Canadian. Whoever you may be, you are\nsure not to be wholly isolated or unknown. Soon a familiar accent\nor an unforeseen accident will reveal a compatriot or a friend. It\nis impossible to forget your country; it becomes dearer to you than\never. You appreciate it perhaps more fully, but the narrowness of\nyour former attachment is destroyed by contact with the broad spirit\nof Catholicity which penetrates you.\n\nHe who has the leisure to examine certain statistics will find\nat Rome evidences of Catholicity even in examining the list of\ntravellers, or the missives of the mails, or even the catalogues of\ngifts sent to the holy father, and especially that of the offerings\nhe recently received for the jubilee of his priesthood. All this and\nmany other things constantly verify a proverb now misinterpreted,\nand too trivial to be quoted, but which the ancients expressed very\nnobly, \"All roads lead to Rome.\" There is this difference--the roads\nleading to the Rome of Sts. Peter and Paul are far more extended than\nthose of the Rome of Romulus and Remus. What one only accomplished\nby force of arms, the other has effected by the universality of\nevangelical preaching.\n\nWithout leaving the Vatican basilica we can discover, on all sides,\nauthentic proofs of this universality. On the day of solemn\nfunctions, when the pope celebrates the holy sacrifice, a Greek\ndeacon officiates beside a Latin deacon, and chants the Gospel in\nthe language of St. Luke. A Greek archbishop also assists at it as\nwell as one of the Armenian Church. The Syriac Church has also its\nministers at the holy see. The presence of these bishops and these\npriests of different rites is not a mere spectacle unsustained by\nreality. They are representatives of churches scattered throughout\nthe East.[78] We have many other reflections to make on this subject,\nbut they must be reserved, with a thousand things, till a future\ntime. See now, on the tablet that perpetuates the remembrance of the\nformal decision respecting the Immaculate Conception, the names of\nthe bishops who were present. The titles of a great number of their\nchurches would be vainly sought for in the ancient diptychs. They\nassert the presence of the Catholic hierarchy in regions unknown\nto the fathers of Nice or even of Trent. See, further on, the\nconfessionals ranged around the southern transept; the inscriptions\nthey bear notify you that there are penitentiaries and confessors\nwho speak all the principal languages of Europe, including that of\nGreece. Behold also a _bas-relief_, peculiarly significant, under the\nstatue of Gregory XVI. It is symbolical of the most glorious event\nof his reign--the institution of the work of the propagation of the\nfaith. At the feet of the pontiff are the types of almost all races,\nwho render him their tributes of veneration and gratitude. There is\nanother idea under this symbol: it shows that the see of Peter is\nthe source of the apostolic missions, the centre of a power which is\nexpansive and subjugating, and the focus of that divine light which\nseeks to be diffused throughout the entire heart of humanity.\n\nIt is in truth from Rome that the great evangelizers of nations\nhave set out. To mention here only a few, and not the most ancient,\nPatrick, the apostle of Ireland, wished, as is said in his Acts, \"to\nrepair to the see founded on a rock. He wished to comprehend more\nfully the canonical laws of the holy Roman Church, and obtain for\nhis mission and his labors the strength derived from the apostolic\nauthority.\" He came then to the tomb of the holy apostles, and set\nout again with the benediction of Pope St. Celestin I., as at a later\ndate the monk Augustin departed, sent by St. Gregory I. to evangelize\nEngland. Another pope of the same name, St. Gregory II., had the\nglory of conferring his blessing on the monk Wilfrid, the great\napostle of Germany. He summoned him to his presence in the church of\nSt. Peter, and consecrated him bishop after having changed his name\nto Boniface. After his consecration, he placed in the Confession of\nSt. Peter a writing that ended with these words:\n\n     \"I, Boniface, an unworthy bishop, have written with my own hand\n     this paper containing my oath of fidelity, and, in placing it on\n     the sacred body of St. Peter, I promise to keep this vow before\n     God, who is my witness and my judge.\"...\n\nSt. Corbinian, who was also one of the first preachers of\nChristianity in Germany; St. Amandus, who preached on the shores\nof the Garonne, the Escaut, and the Danube, and St. Kilian, who\nevangelized Franconia, came likewise to prostrate themselves at\nthe Confession of St. Peter, whence set forth in other times Paul,\nFormosus, Donatus, Leo, and Marinus, sent by Pope Nicholas I. among\nthe Bulgarians; Egidius, Bishop of Tusculum, sent to Poland by\nPope John XIII.; and Willibald, Prochorius, etc., who received\nan apostolic mission to Vandalia.[79] Let us also mention St.\nAnscharius, who was sent by Gregory IV. as legate to the Swedes,\nDanes, Icelanders, and all the northern nations. Two other apostles\nwho evangelized a great race, now, alas! almost entirely given over\nto schism, kindled their missionary ardor at the tomb of the Prince\nof the Apostles. After having commenced their apostolic labors among\nthe Sclaves, St. Cyril and St. Methodius came to Rome to receive\nepiscopal consecration, and celebrated here the first mass in the\nSclavonic language.[80] Then, their second evangelical expedition\nbeing terminated, they both returned to Rome. One of them, Cyril,\ndied here, and his tomb, placed beside that of Pope St. Clement,\nremains as a perpetual memorial of his attachment to the centre of\nunity and of Catholicity.\n\nIt would take too long to mention here the names of all the other\napostles who set forth from Rome before or after the most illustrious\nof all--St. Francis Xavier. We will only remark that the numerous\npupils that the Roman ecclesiastical seminaries have sent on a\nmission never fail to kindle their zeal at the Confession of the\nPrince of the Apostles.\n\nOne of these seminaries requires special notice, because it is in\nitself a proof of Catholicity and of the principle which engenders\na Catholic spirit. I wish you could have been present, as I was, at\nthe festival that the Propaganda celebrated on the Sunday in the\noctave of the Epiphany. You would have heard speak or chant in their\nown languages Greeks, Syrians, and I know not how many from other\nnations--even a negro from Senegambia, who was not applauded the\nleast, for, though his _wolof_ was understood by hardly any one, his\npowerful and pathetic voice made an extraordinary impression on the\nwhole audience. A composition in verse, recited some years ago at\none of these exhibitions, sets forth in a happy manner the peculiar\ncharacter of this house. Here is an extract from it which you will\nnot read without pleasure:\n\n    \"Toute diversit\u00e9 vient ici se confondre;\n    Le Chinois parle au Turc surpris de lui r\u00e9pondre,\n    Gambier par l'Indoustan se laisse interroger,\n    Le n\u00e8gre ouvre l'oreille aux doux chants de la Gr\u00e8ce,\n    Et dans ce choeur de voix, qui s'aggrandit sans cesse,\n    Dieu pr\u00e9pare une place au B\u00e9douin d'Alger.\n\n    Rome! c'est dans ton sein que leur accord s'op\u00e8re!\n    Dans ce chaos de mots qui divise la terre,\n    L'harmonie appar\u00eet des qu'on prie avec toi;\n    Ton hymne universel est le concert des \u00e2mes,\n    Le Dieu de l'unit\u00e9, que seule tu proclames,\n    En nos accents divers entend la m\u00eame foi.\n\n    Sur tout rivage ou peut aborder une voile,\n    Tes ap\u00f4tres s'en vont, guid\u00e9s par ton \u00e9toile,\n    Des peoples renouer l'antique parent\u00e9;\n    La v\u00e9rit\u00e9 refait ce qu'a d\u00e9truit le crime,\n    Et Rome, de Babel antipode sublime,\n    Du genre humain \u00e9pars reconstruit l'unit\u00e9.\"\n\n     All races are here mingled. The Chinaman converses with the\n     surprised Turk, and Gambia is questioned by Hindostan. The negro\n     listens to the sweet chants of Greece, and in this choir of\n     voices, constantly increasing, Providence has prepared a place for\n     the Bedouin of Algiers.\n\n     Rome, it is in thy bosom that this union is effected! In the\n     confusion of tongues which divides the nations, harmony is\n     restored by union with thee. All souls join in thy universal hymn.\n     The God of unity, whom thou alone proclaimest, hears the same\n     accent of faith in our different languages.\n\n     Thy apostles, guided by thy star, go forth to every shore where\n     a vessel can land, to bind all nations to their venerable head.\n     Truth repairs the devastations of sin, and Rome, sublime antipode\n     of Babel, restores the unity of the scattered human race.\n\nThese verses quoted by the Abb\u00e9 Gerbet, and which he had, I think,\ncomposed himself for that occasion, express with a rare felicity this\nunique character of Christian Rome, which is the harmonious fusion\nof Catholicity with unity. Besides, are not these two prerogatives\none and the same thing under two different aspects? For what is\nCatholicity but a unity which expands and is diffusive? And what is\nunity but Catholicity drawn to its centre?\n\nThe name of Holy City, now synonymous with that of Rome, implies\nanother characteristic, not less brilliant, not less peculiar of the\nchurch which is one and universal. The Vatican basilica--for it is\nthis we are particularly studying--seems to have been constructed\nand arranged expressly to prove that the church is the mother of the\nsaints. Remember, first, that this temple has been for a long time\nthe only sanctuary used at the great festivals of beatification and\ncanonization. It is useless to recall the ceremonies of this kind\nthat have recently been celebrated here with so much solemnity; but\nwhat is not useless to remark is, that the public honors conferred on\nthese heroes of sanctity have always been preceded by examinations\nso minute and scrupulously careful that the most distrustful critic\ncould not, without the loss of human confidence, resist the light\nof evidence. Look up above the arches of the grand nave. There, on\na level with the acanthus leaves of the pilasters, are the colossal\nrepresentations and personifications of the Christian virtues,\nmingling like the flora of heaven with the vegetation of earth. Are\nthere only mere symbols there? Look a little lower down, and you will\ndiscover something else. Ranged around the nave from the choir and\nthe transepts to the porticoes are the statues of the founders of\nthe religious orders, beginning with the patriarch St. Benedict and\nending with St. Vincent de Paul and St. Theresa; and under the form\nof these great leaders, the eye of thought beholds an innumerable\nnumber of holy souls--monks or religious--who, following their\nfootsteps, have acquired the palm of sanctity. This brilliant array\nof saints around the basilica does not end at the threshold of the\ntemple. Go for a moment into the grand portico, and you will see\nthe chain continued and prolonged on the immense colonnade of the\nsquare. There is a whole nation of martyrs, pontiffs, confessors,\nand virgins, ranged like a procession before the Saviour and his\napostles, whose images look down from the fa\u00e7ade of the basilica.\nAnd entering anew into the nave, you will find on the pillars of\nthe three first balustrades at the right and left, the medallions\nof the first popes, almost all martyrs; and this is not a complete\nlist of those who are honored as saints. There are more than eighty\nhere who bear this title; and how many more are also worthy of being\nnumbered with them! For, in spite of some stains that calumny has\nvainly magnified, the successors of Peter have brilliantly justified\nthe title of _Holy See_ conferred on the Roman chair, and have left\nin history the most luminous train in the annals of sanctity. You\nsee also the fine mosaics on the projecting arches of the small\ndomes--they are the doctors and the fathers of the church; and among\nthem you will find these grand oriental figures: St. Flavian, St.\nGermanus of Constantinople, and St. John Damascene. Beneath the\naltars of the lateral chapels you will discover the bodies of these\nother incomparable glories of the ancient oriental church: St. Basil\nthe Great, St. Gregory of Nazianzen, and St. John Chrysostom. The\nwhole church is in a manner paved with the tombs of the saints.[81]\nDo not forget that this is the place where Nero, the greatest of\npersecutors, had the Christians of Rome burned as torches before his\natrocious eyes. Add to all these venerable relics, the numberless\nothers that St. Peter's possesses in its treasury, without mentioning\na second time the ashes of the holy apostles, and your faith will\nbehold a thousand times more beauty and brilliancy in the august\nremains that adorn this grand basilica than in one of its great\nilluminations, though the finest in the world.\n\nAnd what would we find if we could examine all the other sanctuaries\nof Rome and its immense cemeteries? The catacombs alone have\nfurnished for the veneration of the faithful an incalculable number\nof bones of martyrs, and the richness of these mines, so fruitful\nin sanctity, has not yet been exhausted. Different circumstances\nhave contributed to bring together at Rome relics from the entire\nChristian world. The most humble oratories and chapels display such\ntreasures without number. \"One would say that from almost every\nregion where the gospel has been preached--from the mountains of\nArmenia to the forests of America, from the shores of England to the\ncaves of Japan--the most of those who were martyrs by the shedding\nof their blood, or martyrs of charity, have been desirous that some\npart of themselves should join this great council of catacombs.\nThe ancient Christians sometimes designated the cemeteries of the\nmartyrs by the name of councils.\" A list has been drawn up of the\ncountries and cities which were the birthplace, the residence, or\nthe tombs of the saints whose relics are at Rome. This geographical\nselection is in a manner a funereal atlas of the Christian world....\nWhat constellations of tombs are here! An antiquary has happily\nsaid they form _the subterranean heaven_ of Rome.... If you connect\nin imagination with the different parts of this reliquary of the\nuniverse the virtues that each specially represents, and which\naltogether afford the least imperfect likeness of the God-man, you\nwill see in the midst of this _campo santo_ of the Christian world\nthe most sublime image of the Saviour that can be found on earth;\nfor it is not produced by colors, or composed of pieces of marble,\nbut of the members of those who lived the life of Jesus Christ--a\nkind of mosaic doubly sacred by reason of what it represents and the\nmaterials of which it is composed, in which each part contributes to\nreproduce more grandly the image with which it is itself stamped.\nEvery Christian era has contributed to this work, and Rome is the\nsepulchre where this mysterious form will repose till the last\nday.[82]...\n\nThis is not all. Relics much more sacred than those of the saints are\nalso reunited in this great metropolis. Pious pilgrims may venerate\nconsiderable fragments of the wood of the manger and of the true\ncross, as well as the inscription in three languages that Pilate\nattached to it. They can climb the staircase of the pretorium which\nthe Saviour must have ascended and descended several times, and on\nwhich may be still seen traces of his blood. Finally, (for I cannot\ntell all,) from the tribune of the Vatican basilica there is exposed,\non certain solemn occasions, the holy face imprinted on the veil of\nVeronica, a part of the true cross, and the lance that pierced the\nheart of Jesus after his death. What was most precious at Jerusalem\nprovidence has transferred to Rome, to show that it is henceforth a\nnew Jerusalem--the holy city and the treasury of the merits of Jesus\nChrist.\n\nThis accumulation of relics and sacred memorials gives to Rome a\npeculiar power of profoundly moving every Christian heart. It is well\nknown that it is particularly in thus holy city that are wrought the\nwonders of divine grace--the most extraordinary conversions. When\none has a soul reasonable and noble enough to rise above prejudice\nand common views, when one is capable of tasting the gift of God, it\nis impossible not to feel the sweet influence of this atmosphere all\nimpregnated with supernatural odors. All the religious monuments,\nall the sanctuaries, every atom of dust, so to speak, of this\nsoil impregnated with the blood of martyrs, cause in the worthy\nheart, an emotion more penetrating and powerful than any other on\nearth. And whatever frivolity or hatred--too often agreed--may say,\nthese impressions are not weakened by observing the Roman people\nin general, or the majority of the pilgrims to the Holy City, or\nits adopted children; on the contrary, the sight of the crowds\nkneeling on the pavements of the churches or proceeding with grave\nthoughtfulness to the stations and religious festivals, has its share\nin affecting the very fibres of each Christian heart. All this I know\ndoes not move those who quench the light, according to the expression\nof Holy Writ: these can, if they choose, repeat the insolent proverb,\n_Roma veduta, fede perduta_--\"To see Rome is to lose your faith;\"\nand, after all, they are right; for when the eyes are diseased,\nnothing blinds them more easily than the rays of the sun.\n\nIs there any need of adding that in this respect the Roman Church\ndefies all comparison with schismatical or Protestant churches,\nwherever they may be? I confine myself to one question: where is\nthe city in England, Germany, or Russia that, after attracting to\nit the noblest and most sincere souls in the world, imposes on them\nthe irresistible desire of abjuring the religion of their fathers,\nas illustrious Protestants have often done at Rome? This strange\nphenomenon, this power of converting, peculiar to Rome, and to Rome\nalone, suffices to prove to those who can reason from cause to effect\nthat the Roman Church is truly a holy and sanctifying church, as it\nis a church indivisible, catholic, and apostolic--_unam, sanctam,\ncatholicam, et apostolicam ecclesiam_.\n\nAll these privileges, these characteristic signs of the true church\nare found, as we have seen, in the basilica of St. Peter. It is\nmore than certain that no premeditated intention has produced this\nlapidary and monumental synthesis. All has been brought about in\na spontaneous manner--effected only by a sense of the truth here\nset forth, and whose inspirations have been followed. The Vatican\nbasilica has become an immense book, which shows on every leaf the\nauthentic proofs and characteristics assigned by Christian antiquity\nas the means of recognizing the true institution founded by Jesus\nChrist.\n\nIt seems to me there is no need of prolonging these observations to\nshow the correspondence I mentioned at first, between this basilica\nand the solemn reunion which is soon to take place under its arches.\n\nWhen the Council of the Vatican holds there its grand sessions, the\nvery stones of the edifice will cry aloud, _lapides clamabunt_,\nto attest that the church is indivisible--one in its faith, its\ngovernment, its sacraments and worship, and united in all these by\nthe unity of its priesthood to its central authority. The stones of\nthe basilica will proclaim by their inscriptions, their statues,\nand all the sacred mementoes of which they are the witnesses and\ndepositories, that this is the church alone Catholic, the only origin\nand source of Catholicity; alone holy, the only mother of the saints,\nand the only source of sanctity. They will unite their voice to that\nof the monuments and tombs in declaring that this is the church alone\napostolic--the only inheritor of the see and privileges of Peter,\nand, consequently, the only foundation of all other churches.\n\nThe Vatican basilica possesses a particular memorial which I have\nnot yet mentioned, and which is a material proof of the legitimate\nsuccession of Peter in the Roman Church. It is the chair once used\nby the Prince of the Apostles. This incomparable relic was exposed\nto the veneration of the faithful at the eighteenth centenary of\nthe martyrdom of St. Peter. Since that day it has been religiously\nenclosed in the walls of the basilica; but if it is no longer\nvisible to the eye, there is, at the end of the apsis, a symbolical\nrepresentation which eloquently expresses the same idea. It is the\napostolic chair supported by the four great doctors of the East and\nWest, St. Augustine and St. Ambrose, St. Athanasius and St. John\nChrysostom. In conferring on them the glory of supporting the chair\nof Peter the genius of art has only expressed the constant language\nof their deeds and their writings, condensed in an expression of St.\nAugustine, \"The primacy of the apostolic see has always been confined\nto the Church of Rome.\" A similar testimony in favor of the Roman\nprimacy has been given by other doctors and founders of churches\nwhose forms adorn the basilica, or whose bodies repose under its\naltars. They all proclaim the rights of the apostolic see in union\nwith St. Jerome, \"It is on this rock that the church was founded;\nwhoever eats of the lamb out of this house is defiled.\" They all\nproclaim with St. Iren\u00e6us that \"all churches ought to rally around\nthat of Rome on account of its preponderating pre\u00ebminence,\" as the\nsmaller domes of the basilica surround the great dome to render\nhomage to its royal dignity, _propter potiorem principalitatem_.\nFinally, the same testimony is rendered to the supremacy of St.\nPeter's chair by the immense \"council of catacombs,\" by all the\nsaints whose relics repose in this _campo santo_, this \"holy field\"\nof the Christian world. Their remains are the glory of the Roman\ncommunion in which they professed to live and die, and, all dead as\nthey are, they speak and prophesy that this church will be till the\nend the true tabernacle of God with man.\n\nThus, when Pius IX. takes his seat to preside at the august council,\nhe will be surrounded by all the proofs that assert the plenitude\nof his apostolic authority--the testimony of the martyrs and holy\nconfessors, of the doctors and founders of churches, of the popes\nhis predecessors and all the traditions they represent; finally,\nthe testimony of Jesus Christ himself, whose words the Vatican\nbasilica expresses in various ways: \"_Thou art Peter, and upon this\nrock I will build my church.... And I will give to thee the keys\nof the kingdom of heaven.... I have prayed for thee that thy faith\nfail not.... Feed my sheep. Feed my lambs._\" Surrounded by so many\nproofs of his power, of which no other place in the world can give\na recapitulation more solemnly eloquent, the successor of Peter can\nhere claim, with more reason than anywhere else, the prerogatives of\nthe Prince of the Apostles; he can apply to himself the words graven\non the pedestal of the bronze statue of St. Peter, \"Behold in my\nperson the Divine Word, the rock beautifully wrought with gold, upon\nwhich I now stand immovable.\"\n\nThe bishops also will find in the basilica more monuments than in\nany other place in the world that attest the divine right they have\nreceived to govern the church with the successor of St. Peter, and\nunder his supreme authority. The expressive statues of Athanasius,\nAmbrose, Augustine, Flavian, and Germanus of Constantinople, the\nbodies of Basil the Great, Gregory of Nazianzen, and Chrysostom will\nbe there to proclaim the glory, the privileges, and the inalienable\nrights of the episcopacy. But especially the united relics of\nthe apostolic college of whom the bishops are collectively the\nsuccessors, the constant presence of this \"council of Jerusalem\"\nwill be a proof that it belongs to them to judge in all matters of\nfaith and discipline, and to appropriate the august formula, \"It hath\nseemed good to the Holy Ghost and to us\"--_Visum est Spiritui Sancto\net nobis_.\n\nThe Son of God himself will give to the council of the Vatican very\nspecial pledges of his protection and love. I have already mentioned\nthe precious relics of the Passion, the imprint of the divine face,\nhis cross which redeemed the world, and the lance that brought\nforth blood and water from his heart--symbols of baptism and all\nthe treasures of grace. The Catholic faith has the assurance of\nthe divine assistance promised to oecumenical councils. It cannot\nreceive from the presence of these venerable objects any substantial\naugmentation; but they may produce a sensible excitation, and will be\na very special pledge of reasonable hope; and besides, if it is true\nthat certain privileged places have the power of profoundly moving\nthe soul, how can it be denied that this virtue evidently belongs to\nthe basilica of St. Peter? Yes, it is right that the greatest event\nof our age should take place in this temple--the largest in the\nworld--under these arches which astonish us the more the longer we\nregard them, because they give us an ever new sensation of immensity\nand majesty. It is right that the representatives of the universal\nchurch should be face to face with the immortal monuments of\napostolicity, unity, catholicity, and sanctity; in presence of these\ntombs of the sovereign pontiffs and great bishops; in contact, so to\nspeak, with the corner-stone on which whoever falls shall be broken.\nIt is right that in looking down into the glorious tombs of Sts.\nPeter and Paul they should behold the very origin of Christianity;\nand this at a time when there is a question of the renovation and\nmodification of Christian society. Finally, it is right that, in\nlaboring upon this superhuman work, they should have before them\nthe eloquent examples of their glorious predecessors in the same\nwork, and likewise the visible signs and authentic proofs of the\nassistance, protection, and blessing of Heaven. All these mementoes\nand holy objects will inspire the fathers of the council with a\nmore profound sentiment of the greatness of their task and a deeper\nconsciousness of their strength; and when they behold on the dome the\nrepresentation of the Father of light, from whom cometh every perfect\ngift, that of the eternal Shepherd surrounded by his apostles and\nthe Queen of saints, and that of the Spirit of truth hovering over\nthe tomb of St. Peter and over his symbolic chair, they will feel\nmore fully that they are not vain representations; they will hear\nand comprehend with a more profound and intense emotion the words of\nthe divine promises, _Behold I am with you.... As the Father hath\nsent me, so have I sent you.... I will send you the Paraclete, who\nshall teach you all truth.... He who heareth you heareth me: he who\ndespiseth you despiseth me. He who believeth shall be saved: he who\nbelieveth not shall be condemned._\n\nI have endeavored to present some of the reflections suggested by the\nVatican basilica by reason of the coming council. From the same point\nof view we might find many other perspectives not less interesting,\nby taking new positions near the tombs of the holy apostles.\n\nFor the present, however, it is time to close. Let us leave these\nsacred walls after having kissed anew the revered foot of Peter. In\ntraversing the great square, let us read the celebrated inscription\ngraven by Sixtus V. on the obelisk, and which, it is to be hoped,\nwill have, by means of the council, its entire verification,\n_Christus vincit--Christus regnat--Christus imperat. Christus ab omni\nmalo plebem suam defendat_. \"Christ overcomes--Christ reigns--Christ\nrules. May Christ defend his people from every evil.\"\n\nAnd now, before separating, let us ascend for a moment one of the\nhills of Rome to contemplate this great basilica from a distance, at\nthe hour preferred by visitors, when the sun is about to set behind\nthe dome. Here listen to the lines of a poet whose name is dear to us\nby so many titles:\n\n    \"Dall' altezza del Pincio contemplando\n    Il disceso all' occaso Astro primiero,\n    Ammiravam siccome egli, toccando\n    La divina Basilica di Piero,\n    Arricchisca di luce i suoi tesori\n    E con celeste amor si fermi a cingerla\n    Di rubini, zaffiri et fulgid' ori;\n    Io quindi ammutolia.\n    Ma intesi una pi\u00f9 fervida, pi\u00f9 pia\n    Alma esclamar: 'Son quelle\n    Le due dell' universo opre pi\u00f9 belle\n    Onde materia sublimata adornisi:\n    Dio per l'uom quella Lampa in ciel ponea,\n    Al suo Signor l'uomo quel tempio ergea.'\"\n\n    \"Contemplating afar from Pincio's height\n    The monarch orb slow sinking in the west,\n    Enrapt we stood to see him touch the shrine\n    Of Peter, the Basilica divine--\n    Enriching all its treasures with his light:\n    And how his love its grandeur did invest\n    With robe of rubies, sapphires, and bright gold.\n    And I withal grew voiceless at the sight;\n    But one, a soul of purer beat than mine,\n    Made utterance at my side, 'In these behold\n    Two works, of all which matter can unfold\n    Of ornament, creation's loveliest.\n    God set for man that lamp in yonder sky:\n    Man to his Lord this temple raised on high.'\"\n\nYes, Silvio Pellico is right: there are before us two of the finest\ncreations in the universe. The light that God has suspended in the\nfirmament to shine on man, and this temple that man has erected\nto honor his God. But if the divine basilica of Peter appears so\nbeautiful and radiant when the sun surrounds it with an aureola\nof rubies and sapphires, what will it be when the look of faith,\nwhich discovers things invisible, sees it surrounded by the rays, a\nthousand times more brilliant, of divine and incorruptible truth?\nSuch, nevertheless, will be the spectacle Catholic souls will enjoy\nwhen is accomplished what the bishops in a celebrated address have\nstyled the great work of light--_grande opus illuminationis_.\n\nROME, April 19, 1869.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[72] See _Istoria della sacrosanta patriarcale Basilica Vaticana_. By\nthe Rev. F. M. Mignanti. Vol. i. c. xxiii. Other special synods are\nmentioned, held in the ancient basilica of St. Peter--the first in\n386, and the last in 1413.\n\n[73] _Esquisse de Rome Chr\u00e9tienne_, vol. i. c. iii.\n\n[74] The fact to which I have alluded happened in 1848. The details\nare to be found in Mignanti's _Istoria_, vol. ii. pp. 203-5.\n\n[75] _Esquisse de Rome Chr\u00e9tienne_, vol. i. ch. ii.\n\n[76] Sermon on the Unity of the Church.\n\n[77] _Esquisse de Rome Chr\u00e9tienne_, vol. ii. c. x.\n\n[78] _Esquisse de Rome Chr\u00e9tienne_, vol. i. c. ii.\n\n[79] _Esquisse de Rome Chr\u00e9tienne_, vol. i. c. 6.\n\n[80] My learned _confr\u00e8re_, Father Martinoff, has been so kind as\nto translate a passage from an ancient manuscript attesting this\ninteresting fact.\n\n[81] _Tutto il pavimento dell' istessa chiesa \u00e8 pieno di sepolcri di\nsanti._ _Bosio_, _Roma Sotter_, p. 33.\n\n[82] I am sorry to abridge these quotations from the Abb\u00e9 Gerbet.\nThey should be read in their connection in order to comprehend\nthe beautiful development of his ideas. I wished to make numerous\nextracts from this great writer, first, because they would be the\nmost brilliant part of these pages, and that they might cause a\nbook too little known, in spite of its eminent merits, to be more\nappreciated. Whoever truly wishes to know Rome, should read and\nre-read _l'Esquisse de Rome Chr\u00e9tienne_. Although this work was not\nas fully finished as the celebrated Bishop of Perpignan intended, he\nimplies to a certain degree what he does not say, for he possesses a\nsuggestive talent which is the peculiarity of genius. He opens to us\nnew perspectives. His broad religious and philosophic views of Rome\ndirect and develop the personal views of the reader who attentively\nstudies the place. Such has been my experience, and I wish that all\ninstructed Christians who come to Rome could experience it more fully.\n\n\n\n\nBEECHER'S NORWOOD.[83]\n\n     [Our delay in noticing this book by a distinguished author till\n     the reading public have probably forgotten it, has been purely\n     unintentional. We placed it, soon after its publication, in the\n     hands of one of our collaborateurs, a genuine New Englander by\n     birth, education, and association, to prepare a notice or a review\n     of it, as he might judge proper. He read it, no inconsiderable\n     feat, but was taken very ill, and lay for many months with faint\n     hopes of recovery. During his illness and for some time after his\n     recovery the book was forgotten. He now, at this late day, sends\n     us his judgment, and we hasten to pay our respects to the author,\n     and our debt to the publishers.--ED. CATH. WORLD.]\n\n\nThe Beecher family is certainly a remarkably gifted family, though we\nthink the father, Dr. Lyman Beecher, was the best of them all. Yet\nhis two daughters, Miss Catharine Beecher and Mrs. Harriet Beecher\nStowe, are women of rare abilities, and have made their mark on the\ntimes and sad havoc with New England theology. Dr. Edward Beecher\nhas written several notable books, among which may be mentioned _The\nPapal Conspiracy_ and the _Conflict of the Ages_, which prove him\nalmost equally hostile to Rome and to Geneva. Henry Ward Beecher is\nthe most distinguished of the sons, and probably ranks as the most\npopular, certainly the most striking, pulpit orator in the country.\nBut none of the family are remarkable for purity of taste, refined\nculture, or classical grace and polish as writers. They would seem\nto owe their success partly to their audacity, but principally to a\ncertain rough vigor and energy of character, and to their sympathy\nwith the popular tendencies of their country. They rarely take, never\nknowingly take, the unpopular side of a question, or attempt to stem\nthe current of popular opinion. They are of the world, and the world\nloves them. They never disturb its conscience by condemning its moral\nideal, or calling upon it to strive after a higher and purer ideal.\nThey have in an eminent degree the genius of commonplace. There are\nin _Uncle Tom's Cabin_ and _The Ministers Wooing_ passages of rare\nforce and vigor, but they are not very original, nor very recondite.\nThe Beecher genius is not lyrical or dramatic, but essentially\nmilitant and prosaic. It can display itself only against an\nantagonist, and an antagonist at least about to fall under the ban of\npublic opinion. They have some imitative ability, but little creative\npower, and rarely present us with a living character. We remember\nonly two living characters in all Mrs. Stowe's writings, Dred and the\nWidow Scudder; and we are not certain that these are not copies of\noriginals.\n\nThe author of _Norwood_ is less of an artist than his sister, Mrs.\nStowe, and under the relation of art his novel is below criticism.\nIt contains many just observations on various topics, but by no\nmeans original or profound; it seizes some few of the traits of New\nEngland village life; but its characters, with the exception of\nJudge Bacon, Agate Bissell, and Hiram Beers, are the abstractions\nor impersonations of the author's theories. The author has little\ndramatic power, and not much wit or humor. The persons or personages\nof his book are only so many points in the argument which he is\ncarrying on against Calvinistic orthodoxy for pure naturalism. The\nsubstance of his volume seems to be made up of the fag-ends of\nhis sermons and lectures. He preaches and lectures all through it,\nand rather prosily into the bargain. His Dr. Wentworth is a bore,\nand his daughter Rose, the heroine of the story, is a species of\nbluestocking, and neither lovely nor lovable. As a type of the\nNew England cultivated and accomplished lady she is a failure,\nand is hardly up to the level of the New England school-ma'am.\nThe sensational incidents of the story are old and worn out, and\nthe speculations on love indicate very little depth of feeling or\nknowledge of life, or of the human heart. The author proceeds on a\ntheory, and so far shows his New England birth and breeding, but he\nseldom touches reality.\n\nAs a picture of New England village life it is singularly\nunfortunate, and still more so as a picture of village life in the\nvalley of the Connecticut, some twenty miles above Springfield,\nin Massachusetts, where the scene is laid, and where the tone and\nmanners of society in a village of five thousand inhabitants, the\nnumber Norwood is said to contain, hardly differ in refinement and\npolish from the tone and manners of the better classes in Boston\nand its vicinity. There are no better families, better educated,\nbetter bred, more intellectual in the State, than are to be found\nin no stinted numbers in the towns of the Connecticut valley, the\ngarden of Massachusetts. The book is full of anachronisms. The\npeculiar New England traits given existed to a certain extent, in our\nboyhood, in back settlements or towns not lying near any of the great\nthoroughfares; but they have very generally disappeared through the\ninfluence of education, the railroads, which run in all directions\nthrough the State, and the almost constant intercourse with the\nsociety of the capital.\n\nThe turnpikes did much to destroy the rustic manners and language\nof the population of the interior villages, and the railroads have\ncompleted what they left undone. Save in a few localities, there\nis no longer a rustic population in Massachusetts, and very little\ndistinction between the countryman and the citizen. In small country\nvillages you may find Hiram Beers still, but Tommy Taft, Polly\nMarble, and Agate Bissell are of a past generation, and even in\nthe past belonged to Connecticut rather than to the Old Bay State.\nStrangers suppose the people of the several New England States\nhave all the same characteristics, and are cut out and made up\nafter the same pattern; but in reality, except in the valley of the\nConnecticut, where there is a blending of the characteristics of the\nadjoining States, the differences between the people of one State\nand those of another are so strongly marked that a careful observer\ncan easily tell, on seeing a stranger, to which of the six New\nEngland States he belongs, without hearing him speak a word, and not\nunfrequently the section of his State from which he comes. There is\nno mistaking a Berkshire countryman for a Cape Codder, or a Vermonter\nfor a true son of the Old Bay State, or a Rhode Islander. The gait,\nthe air, the manners, the physiognomy even, tell at once the man's\nnative State. The Vermonter is the Kentuckian of the East, as the\nGeorgian is the Yankee of the South, and we have found no two cities\nin the Union, and there are few east of the Rocky Mountains that we\nhave not visited, where the citizens of the one have so many points\nof resemblance with those of the other, as Boston, the metropolis of\nNew England, and Charleston, the real capital of South Carolina.\nAccidental differences of course there are, but the type of character\nis the same, and the purest and best American type we have met with.\nAnd we are very disinterested in our judgment, for we are natives\nof neither city nor State. In both we have the true English type\nwith its proper American modifications. No two cities stood firmer,\nshoulder to shoulder, during the American war of independence, \"the\ntimes that tried men's souls,\" than Boston and Charleston. They\nbecame opposed not till, under the lead of Philadelphia and the\nPennsylvania and Kentucky politicians, Congress had fastened on the\ncountry the so-called American system, which struck a severe blow at\nthe commerce of New England, and compelled its capitalists to seek\ninvestment for their capital in manufactures. It is a little singular\nthat New England, which up to 1842 had voted against every protective\ntariff that had been adopted, should have the credit or discredit of\noriginating and securing the adoption of the protective system. The\nablest speech ever made against the system in Congress was made in\n1824 by Mr. Webster, then a member of the House of Representatives\nfrom Boston. We express no opinion on the question between free-trade\nand so-called protection; we only say that Pennsylvania and\nKentucky, not the New England States, are chiefly responsible for\nthe protective system; the very remote cause, at least, of the late\nterrible civil war between the North and South, in which, if the\nvictory was for the Union, the South are likely to be the gainers in\nthe long run, and the North the losers.\n\nBut we are wandering. Mr. Beecher speaks truly of the diversity\nand originality of individual character in New England, which you\ndiscover when you have once broken through the thin crust of\nconventionalism; but he seems not to have observed equally the\nmarked differences of character between the people of the several\nStates. The wit of a Massachusetts man is classical and refined; of\nthe Connecticut man sly, and not incapable of being coarse; of the\nVermonter it is broad farce, and nobody better than he can keep a\ncompany of good fellows in a roar till morning. The Bay State man\nhas a strong attachment to tradition and to old manners and customs,\nand his innovating tendency is superinduced, and is as repugnant\nto his nature as Protestantism is to the _perfervidum ingenium\nScottorum_. He is naturally a conservative, as the Scotch are, if\nwe may so speak, naturally Catholic; and it was only a terrible\nwrench of the Scottish nature that induced the loyal Scots to adopt\nthe Reformation. The Connecticut man excels the Bay State man in\ningenuity, in inventive genius, in doing much with little; is less\nconservative by nature, and more enterprising and adventurous, and\nin his exterior conduct more under the influence of public opinion.\nEach is proud of his State, and the Connecticut man especially, who\nhas acquired wealth elsewhere, is fond of returning to his early\nhome to display it; but attachment to the soil is not very strong in\neither, and neither will make heavy sacrifices for simple love of\ncountry. The Bay State man is more influenced by his principles, his\nconvictions, like the South Carolinian, and the Connecticut man more\nby his interests.\n\nThe Vermonter has no conservative tendency by nature; he cares\nnot the snap of his finger for what his father believed or did;\nis personally independent, generally free from snobbishness, no\nslave to public opinion, and for the most part has the courage of\nhis convictions; but he loves his State, loves her green hills and\nfertile valleys, and when abroad holds a fellow-Vermonter dear as his\nbrother. A Georgian and a Connecticut man are fighting in Georgia;\nthe Connecticut man looking on will wish his countryman to get the\nbetter of his Georgian opponent, but will not interpose till he has\ninquired into the cause of the dispute, and ascertained on which side\nis the law. A Georgian and a Vermonter are fighting under the same\ncircumstances; the Vermonter comes up, looks, knocks the Georgian\ndown, rescues his countryman, and investigates the cause and the\nlaw afterward. The Vermonter pays no attention to the personal\nresponsibility he may incur; the Connecticut man tries to keep always\nclear of the law; and if he makes up his mind to do a great wrong\nto some one, he takes care to do it under cover of law, so that no\nhold can be got of him. The Bay State man is much the same; and the\nConnecticut man has less of patriotism than the Vermonter. We speak\nof what was the case in our own youth and early manhood; yet the\ncharacter of the whole American people has so changed during the last\nforty years that we can hardly any longer recognize them, and in the\njudgment of an old man they have changed not for the better.\n\nWe have no space to remark on the characteristic differences of the\nthree remaining New England States. These States have still less\nresemblance to each other. The people of Maine differ widely from\nthe people of New Hampshire, and the people of Rhode Island have\nvery few traits in common with the people of any of the other New\nEngland States. The author of _Norwood_ has lost no little of his own\noriginal New England character or overlaid it with his Westernism. He\nis not in sympathy with the true New England character, as found in\nany of the New England States, and is more disposed to exaggerate, in\nhis descriptions, its few eccentricities than to bring out its higher\nand nobler qualities. No doubt the Puritan settlers of Massachusetts\nand Connecticut set out with the intention of founding what they\nregarded as a Christian commonwealth, in which the evangelical\ncounsels should be recognized and enforced as laws. They would have\norganized and maintained society, except in not enjoining celibacy,\nafter the mode of a Catholic monastery. They attempted by constant\nvigilance and the strict enforcement of very rigorous laws to shut\nout all vice and immorality from their community. They were rigorists\nin morals, somewhat rigid and stern in their personal character, and\nhave been generally supposed to be much more so than they really\nwere. Their experiment of a Christian commonwealth as it existed in\ntheir own ideal failed, partly through their defective faith and the\nabsence of supernatural grace, and partly through their exacting too\nmuch of human nature, or even of men in the flesh, except an elect\nfew. But they, nevertheless, succeeded in laying the foundation of a\nChristian as distinguished from a pagan republic, or in founding the\nstate, the first in history, on truly Christian principles; that is,\non the rights of God, and which better than any other known state has\nprotected the rights of man.\n\nThe Puritan did not separate from the Church of England on the\nprinciple of liberty of dissent, or because he wished to establish\nwhat liberals now understand by religious liberty. The principle of\nhis separation was the Catholic principle, that the magistrate has\nno authority in spirituals, and no right to prescribe any forms or\nceremonies to be used in worship. It was a solemn protest not against\nthe doctrines of the Anglican Church, but against the authority\nit conceded in spiritual matters to the civil power--or the civil\nmagistrate, as they said then. The Puritan was logical; he had a\ngood major, and his conclusion would have been just, if his minor\nhad only been true; and we are, in our opinion, indebted to him far\nmore than to Lord Baltimore or to Governor Dongan of New York for the\nfreedom of conscience secured by our institutions. Lord Baltimore\nand Governor Dongan sought the free exercise of their own religion\nfor their co-religionists, and asserted, and in their situation\ncould assert, only toleration. Neither could assert the principle of\ntrue religious liberty, the incompetency of the state in spirituals,\nholding, as they did, their power from the king of England and head\nof the Anglican Church. The Puritan abominated toleration, called it\nthe devil's doctrine, and proved himself little disposed to practise\nit; but in asserting the absolute independence of the church or\nreligion before the civil magistrate, he asserted the true principle\nof religious liberty, which the Catholic Church always and everywhere\nasserts, and laid in the American mind the foundation of that\nreligious freedom of which our religion, which they hated, now enjoys\nthe benefit.\n\nWe have nothing to say of the virtues of the Puritans in relation\nto the world to come; but they certainly had great and rare civil\nvirtues, and they have had the leading share in founding and shaping\nthe American state. They were grave, earnest--too much so, if you\nwill; but however short they fell in practice, they always asserted\nthe independence and supremacy of the moral order in relation to\ncivil government, and the obligation of every man to obey God rather\nthan men, and to live always in reference to the end for which God\nmakes him. Their moral standard was high, and they set an example\nof as moral a people as can be looked for outside of the church.\nThey had only a faulty religion, and perhaps were Stoics rather\nthan Christians in their temper; but they always put religion in\nits right place, and gave the precedence to its ministers. They\nplaced education under charge of the church, and the system of\ncommon schools which they originated or adopted was really a system\nof parochial schools, under the supervision of the pastor, and\nsupported by a tax on the parish, imposed by the parishioners, in\npublic meetings, on themselves. The centralized system of godless\nschools, borrowed from the Convention that decreed the death of Louis\nXVI., generally adopted by the Middle and Western States, is hardly\nyet fully adopted in Massachusetts, though since 1835 it has been\ngradually gaining the ascendency; and Cambridge University, founded\nfor God and the church, has only this very year thrown off its\nreligious character, dispensed with morning prayers,[84] and become a\npurely secular institution--an inevitable but a lamentable change.\n\nThe Puritans not only adopted a high moral standard, but they lived\nas nearly up to it as is possible for human nature alone since the\nfall, and few examples of a more rigidly moral people can be found\nthan were the New England people for a century and a half after\nthe landing of the Pilgrims, and to them, in no small measure, the\nwhole Union is indebted for its moral character as well as for the\ngreater part of its higher institutions of learning. There have\nbeen as learned, as gifted, as great men, found in other States,\nand perhaps even more learned, gifted, and greater; but there is no\npart of the Union where the intellectual tone of society is so high,\nor intellectual culture so general as in New England, especially\nin the States founded by the Puritans, as were Massachusetts and\nConnecticut. New York leads in trade and commerce; Pennsylvania\nlatterly, Virginia formerly, in politics; but the New England\nmind has led in law, jurisprudence, literature, art, science, and\nphilosophy; though since Puritanism has been lapsing into liberalism\nits pre\u00ebminence is passing away. We speak of New England as it was\nthirty or forty years ago, or a little earlier, when the majority of\nthe supreme judges, and two thirds of the members of the legislature\nof New York were Connecticut or, at least, New England men. New\nEngland, we fear, is no longer what she was when we were young, and\nshe appears only the shadow of her former self. She is attempting to\ndo, from sheer calculation, and purely secular motives, what even in\nthe heyday of Puritanism was more than she could effect, aided by\nstrong religious convictions and motives. Still, if the substance\nis wanting, she keeps up the appearance of her old moral character,\nand in no part of the Union will you hear finer moral sentences, or\nbetter reasoned orations on the beauty of virtue and the necessity of\nreligion to the commonwealth. Even New England infidelity is obliged\nto assume a moral garb, to express itself in Christian phrases, and\naffect to be more Christian than Christianity itself.\n\nThe author of _Norwood_ does not do justice to the intellectual\ncharacter of New England life, to the thought, the reflection, and\nmovements of a New England village of five thousand inhabitants.\nHis village philosopher, Dr. Wentworth, is very shallow, being very\nnarrow and very prosy. We could easily find any number of farmers\nin the valley of the Connecticut able to see through his paganism\nat a glance, and refute it with a word. Especially is the author\nunjust to New England women. No doubt such women as Polly Marble,\nRachel Cathcart, Agate Bissell, and Mother Taft can be found in a\nNew England village, but they are not representative characters. New\nEngland Puritanism was never so stiff, or so annoying to one's self\nor to others, as it appears in these exceptional characters. The\nwomen of New England are in general remarkable for their intellectual\nculture, their gentleness, their refinement, their grace and dignity\nof manners, the elevation and breadth of their minds, and the extent\nand variety of their information, no less than for their domestic\ntastes and habits, or superior _faculty_ as housekeepers. There are,\nno doubt, blue stockings in Yankeeland which their wearers' skirts\nare too short to conceal; no doubt, also, there are women there who\nencroach on the rights and prerogatives of the other sex, and aspire\nto be men; but your leading woman's rights women and men are not New\nEnglanders. Our old friend, Mrs. Elizabeth Cady Stanton, is a New\nYorker, and Susan B. Anthony, if born in Nantucket, is a Quakeress,\nand the Quakers are of no country, or simply are their own country.\n\nMany movements are accredited to New England which originated\nelsewhere, and are simply taken up by a certain class of New\nEnglanders in easy circumstances, as a diversion or a dissipation,\ninstead of whist, balls, routs, and plays. Yet they are only a class.\nThe Massachusetts legislature voted down, by a large majority,\nthe proposition to give the elective franchise to women, and the\nlegislation of the Old Bay State continues far more masculine and\nconservative than that of the State of New York.\n\n_Norwood_ leaves the impression on the reader that the Puritans\nwere a set of gloomy fanatics, austere and unbending, harsh and\ncruel, minding every body's business but their own, and seeking,\nin season and out of season, to cram their horrible doctrines down\nevery neighbor's throat, and that the only sociable and agreeable\npeople to be found among them were precisely those who had broken\naway from the Puritan thraldom, and returned to the cultivation and\nworship of nature. The wish is father to the thought. More social,\nneighborly, genial, kind-hearted, hospitable people it would be\ndifficult to find in the Union than were the great body of these\nNew England Puritans, than perhaps they are still; though they have\nby no means improved since they have abolished the dinner-table, as\nthey suppose in the interest of temperance, and substituted opium for\nSanta Cruz rum and old Jamaica spirits, as they have philanthropy for\ndevotion. Intellect, morals, and sociality seem to us to have sadly\ndeteriorated under the misdirected efforts to advance them.\n\nBut Henry Ward Beecher has had a far other purpose in _Norwood_\nthan to produce a work of art, to construct a story, or to sketch\nNew England village life. He is willing enough to correct some of\nthe misapprehensions which Southerners have, or had, of New England\ncharacter; but his book, after all, has a serious purpose, and is\nintended to be a death-blow to New England theological and moral\ndoctrines.\n\nThe author, though nominally a Christian, and professedly a\nCongregational preacher, is really a pagan, and wishes to abolish\nPuritanism for the worship of nature. But it is less the Puritan than\nthe Christian he wars against; and if he understands himself, which\nis doubtful, his thought is, that a child, taken as born, without\nbaptism or regeneration, may be trained up by the influence of\nflowers and close communion with nature, beasts, birds, and fishes,\nreptiles and insects, to be a Christian of the first water. Dr.\nWentworth represents this theory, and reduces it to practice in the\ntraining of his daughter Rose, whose chief educator is the half-idiot\nnegro, Pete, \"no great things in the intellects, but with a heart as\nbig as that of an ox.\" The theory recognizes Christ only in nature,\nand really identifies him with nature, and resolves the Christian law\nof perfection into the natural laws of the physicists. The author\nholds, if any thing, that heaven, the crown of life, is in the order\nof generation, and is attainable as the result of natural development.\n\nThe theory, of course, rejects the very fundamental principle of\nChristianity, which declares that \"except a man be born again he\ncannot see the kingdom of God.\" The author, indeed, does not deny in\nwords the new birth; nay, asserts it, but resolves it into a natural\noperation, a sort of mental and physical crisis, and recognizes\nnothing supernatural, or any infusion of grace in it; which is in\nreality to deny it. We have as hearty a dislike of Calvinism as\nany one can have, and we know it passably well by our own early\nexperience; but we confess that we have no wish to see old-fashioned\nPuritanism exchanged for pure rationalism or mere naturalism, and\nas against Henry Ward Beecher, we are strongly tempted to defend\nit. Any one who knows New England at all, knows that its morals\nhave deteriorated just in proportion as its old Puritanism has\ndeclined, or been liberalized. The fact, whatever the explanation, is\nundeniable. In our judgment, it is the natural result of loosening\nthe restraints which Puritanism undoubtedly imposed on the passions\nand conduct, and leaving people to their natural passions, instincts,\nand propensities, without any restraint at all. Despotism is bad\nenough; but it is better than no government, better than anarchy.\nAs it affects the question of conversion to the church, we see no\ngain in the change. We think a sincere, earnest-minded Puritan a\nless hopeless subject than a liberal, like an Emerson, a John Weis,\na John Stuart Mill, a Mr. Lecky, a Herbert Spencer, or such men as\nwere the late Mr. Buckle and the late Sir William Hamilton, who\ndespise Christianity too much to offer any direct opposition to it.\nThe honest Puritan is prejudiced indeed, and unwilling to hear a word\nin favor of the church; yet he believes in Christian morals, and has\nsome conception of the Christian plan of salvation, and therefore\nreally something for the missionary to work on; but men who have\nresolved Christianity into naturalism, and measure reality or even\nthe knowable by their own narrow and superficial understandings, are\nbeyond his reach. Their case is hopeless.\n\nPuritanism keeps alive in the community a certain Christian habit of\nthought, a belief in the necessity of grace, and more or less of a\nChristian conscience. The greater part of the common people gathered\ninto the sects in seasons of revivals, if our missionaries were\npresent, could just as easily be gathered into the church, and be\nsaved. We suffer terribly in this country for the want of missionary\npriests, who can go wherever their services are needed by those who\nknow not yet \"the faith once delivered to the saints.\" Our priests\nare too few for the wants even of our old Catholic population, and\nwhat with hearing confessions, and attending sick calls, building\nchurches and school-houses, and providing for the most pressing wants\nof a Catholic people, are over-worked, and soon exhausted. The great\nmajority of our priests die young, from excessive labor. There is\nwith us a vast missionary field, not indeed among the sects, but\namong the so-called Nothingarians, who comprise the majority of the\nAmerican people, and who, though without any specific belief, are\nyet far from being confirmed unbelievers. But let the Beechers and\ntheir associates succeed in reducing Christianity to naturalism,\nand you soon make this whole class downright infidels. We can have,\ntherefore, no sympathy with Beecherism, or pleasure in seeing its\nsuccess against even old-fashioned New England Puritanism.\n\nWe should say as much of the Presbyterianism of the Middle, Western,\nand Southern States. We believe any of the older Protestant sects\nthat retain a belief in the Trinity, the Incarnation, and future\nrewards and punishments, and that practise infant baptism, are\npreferable by far to any form of modern liberalism, which discards\ndogma for sentiment and reason for the soul, and are really\nnature-worshippers, and as much idolaters as were the old pagans,\nwhose rivers and ponds, whose gardens and orchards were overrun with\ngods. Even a Methodist is upon the whole better than a Liberal,\nhowever puffed up he may be by the successful worship of mammon by\nhis sect, and its growing respectability in the eyes of the world.\n\nWe have bestowed, perhaps, more attention on Mr. Beecher and his\nnovel than they deserve, but we have made them the text for a\ndesultory discourse, partly in defence of New England against her\ndenigration attempted by one of her prominent sons, and partly in\nprotest against the revival of heathen nature-worship favored by\nthe author. We have not aimed at exalting New England above other\nsections of the Union. Each section of our common country has its\npeculiar merits, which are essential to the welfare and development\nof the whole. New England has hers, which, in some respects, excel\nthose of other sections, and in other respects fall short of them.\nIt is not for us to strike the balance, and to decide which upon\nthe whole preponderate. We have wished to give New England her due,\nwithout detracting any thing from what is due to any other section\nof the Union. We should be sorry to see the effort now making to\nNew Englandize the South succeed. There are some things in the New\nEngland character that could be corrected with advantage; and there\nis much in the Southern character, its openness, its frankness, its\npersonal independence, its manliness, its aristocratic tone and\nmanner, that we should be sorry to lose. But we do not like to find\nany man decrying his own native land or insensible to its merits.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[83] Norwood; or, Village Life in New England. By Henry Ward Beecher.\nNew York: Scribner & Co. 1868. 12mo, pp. 549.\n\n[84] Since this was written, we learn that morning prayers are not\ndispensed with, only they are held at eight o'clock instead of an\nearlier hour, as formerly.\n\n\n\n\nCHURCH MUSIC\n\nI.\n\n\n\"The Prayer of the Church is the most pleasing to the ear and heart\nof God, and therefore the most efficacious of all prayers.\" While\nwe have been perusing the various works on church music that have\ncome before us in the shape of book, pamphlet, tract, and magazine\narticle, we could not keep the words we have quoted above from the\ncelebrated Dom Gueranger out of our mind. In Europe, both in England\nand on the continent, it is evident, from the numerous publications\npertinent to the subject which have been lately issued, that the due\ncelebration of the divine offices of the Church is becoming more and\nmore the object of no little anxiety on the part of the hierarchy,\nand that the clergy are everywhere making strenuous efforts to\nget rid of the abuses which since the Protestant reformation, the\nstraitness of the times has tolerated. One of the most notorious of\nthese abuses, fully naturalized amongst us, is the profane character\nof church music. Several writers, among whom stand pre\u00ebminent two\nEnglish priests--the Rev. Canon Oakeley and the Rev. James Nary--have\ncrossed swords on the subject of reform, and we have thus been\nenabled not only to get at the merits of the particular dispute\nbetween these two amicable combatants, but have been led as well to\nreflect upon the primary object of music in the divine offices, the\nintention of the Church, and the means she has ordained for realizing\nit; although we must confess that, with Dom Gueranger's words ringing\nin our ears, we have not heard from the pages of the publications\nin question quite so clear an echo to their truth as we would have\nwished.\n\nThe ritual service of the Church is her prayer, and melody is the\nalmost universal form of expression employed in its celebration.\nWhatever music is sung or performed at her solemn rites is supposed\nto be sung and performed by her not as a musical performance, but\nas a prayer. These are the points more or less ignored in all the\ndiscussions on what is or may be made suitable music for the Church.\nThe different sentences, anthems, psalms, etc., appointed to be\nsung by the choir, are all so many prayers offered by the Church.\nTherefore it is plain that what is proper as music at her offices\nmust as a first principle be a worthy expression of the voice of\nthe Church lifted in prayer. When the priest, robed in his garments\nof sacrifice, intones the Gloria at the altar, he does so in the\nname of the Church, not as the Rev. Mr. ---- performing a short,\neffective, and fine tenor solo; and when the choir continues the same\nangelical anthem, they do so--or rather, are supposed to do so--as\nhis assistants in the divine action. The priest takes his seat to\nawait its conclusion, not to make one of an audience who for the time\nbeing are to be relieved from the more engrossing thoughts of prayer\nby criticising the _Gratias_ as rendered by Mr. A., enjoying the _Qui\ntollis_ by Miss B., or the _telling_ chorus of the _Cum Sancto_.\n\nThat the musical portions of the church offices are in a true sense\nprayer, and are based upon that idea alone, namely, the union of\nthe soul with God; that such is the chief intention of the Church,\nand should be the only object sought in the choice of music and the\nexecution of it, to the absolute subserviency, even if not to the\ncompletely ignoring, of every other sentiment, is therefore beyond\nquestion; but who will not be able to count upon his ten fingers the\nchurches in the United States where the music would be likely to\nleave any such impression upon the minds of the worshippers?\n\nWe say this not in any cynical spirit. We know the \"straitness of\nthe times,\" and we ourselves have been straitened, and are still,\nas well as our neighbors; but the general uneasiness and discontent\nfelt among all classes because of the wretched performances of sacred\nmusic to which we have been subjected, utterly at variance as they\nare with the spirit of the sublime and solemn functions of religion,\nis beginning to find a voice to make audible complaint, and exciting\nsome laudable efforts to rid the holy place of harmonies which savor\nmore of the world, the flesh, and the devil than they do of divine\nprayer. So common is the ignorance of what the true music of the\nChurch is, that it is a rare thing to find even a Catholic who has\nany idea that the Mass has not yet been fully sung when he has heard\nthe Kyrie, Gloria, Credo, Sanctus, and Agnus Dei, and not a note of\nthe Introit, Gradual, Prose, Offertory, or Communion. And as for the\nVespers, we think the fingers of one hand might suffice to count\nthe churches where any attempt is made to perform them entire. Of\nthe compositions executed in every style of musical art at Mass,\nwill not the first person to whom you may address yourself, be he a\ndevout Catholic well instructed in other matters, or a music-loving\nProtestant who is fond of \"attending service\" in our churches on\naccount of the \"glorious music of the Catholic Church,\" which he\nthinks he hears there--will they not both tell you, if you are at the\npains to interrogate them, that Mozart and Haydn hold the place of\nangelic doctors of music in the Catholic Church, and Webbe, Farmer,\nConcone and Co. have equally honorable titles for small churches and\ncountry choirs?\n\nWould not either of them return you a stare of incredulity if you\ntold them that not one composition of any of these authors has ever\nbeen recognized by any authority in the Church, and that the singing\nof them has, in point of fact, been only barely tolerated; that the\ngreat mass of these musical _morceaux_ are wholly unfit for the\npurpose for which they were written, and that, ten chances to one,\nneither of these good friends have ever heard, save the chanting of\nthe priest, one single note of the music sanctioned by the Church in\nall their lives? Yet all this is true to the very letter. Lamentably\ntrue; for religion, in the grandeur, power, and spiritual beauty of\nits sacred offices, is the loser by it, and the devout and prayerful\nspirit which such offices are calculated to excite in the souls of\nthe faithful is to a great extent hindered, and replaced by a spirit\nof sensuousness and worldly amusement.\n\nThe fact beyond dispute is, that the faithful are deprived of the\ntrue expression of the divine prayer of the Church, both on account\nof the profane character of the music performed and the entire\nomission of those portions of the Mass and Vespers which give a\ndistinctive color, tone, and meaning to the seasons and festivals,\nsuch as the Introit, the Gradual, Prose, Offertory, Communion, and\nAntiphons.\n\nNot to speak of the wholly inexcusable practice of reproducing\nwell-known arias from different operas to which the words of some\ndevout hymn are adapted in the most shockingly garbled manner,\nwithout regard to grammar or sense, a cursory examination of \"the\nmasses\" popular among us, and sung, without distinction, at any\nseason and on any festival, would be sufficient to condemn them as\ntotally unfit as vehicles of expression for the words set to them, or\nthe occasion of their performance. Let us quote some true words from\nthe Rev. Mr. Nary:\n\n     \"Would any one contend that the rollicking tunes of many a modern\n     Kyrie express the meaning of the supplicatory ejaculation, _Lord,\n     have mercy on us_?... It may fairly be questioned whether any\n     one unaccustomed to our florid church-music, upon hearing one of\n     the jigs which render the sweet prayer, _O Lord, give us peace,\n     dona nobis pacem_, in some of our modern masses, would be able\n     to tell, not only that it aptly describes the words, but even\n     that it expresses any religious feeling at all. That in numerous\n     instances, modern church music, instead of being descriptive\n     of the holy words to which it is joined, rather expresses the\n     sensuous languor of the stage, or the airy joy of the ball-room,\n     could not well be disputed.\n\n     \"Indeed, it is exceedingly remarkable that what Haydn, Mozart,\n     Weber, and others would have been ashamed to do for the stage,\n     they have, seemingly without a qualm of conscience, done for the\n     house of God. They knew that they must have been accused of folly,\n     had they in one of their operatic works given to earnestness the\n     tones of jesting, to prayer those of mirth; but this is precisely\n     what they have done for the services of the Church. The most\n     touching supplications of the liturgy are often clothed by them\n     in strains of mockery.... It is not implied here that there are\n     not in the works of the great modern composers beautiful passages\n     full of genuine religious feeling; but will any impartial judge\n     contend that there are many masses in which there is no blundering\n     at all between the words and the music?... Nay, is it not true\n     that certain masses by those composers, if separated from the\n     sacred words and applied to some libretto of the late Eug\u00e8ne\n     Scribe, would only gain in naturalness and meaning by the change?\n     What, then, it may be asked, is there no other music for the\n     Almighty than that of the theatre?... It can hardly be disputed\n     that some of our own churches have too often, in their musical\n     efforts, exhibited scenes bordering very closely upon downright\n     desecration of the house of God.... There is no need to describe\n     the sad feelings which arise in the heart of a Catholic who finds\n     the adorable sacrifice of the Mass turned into a Sunday morning\n     amusement.\n\n     \"Some people, who allow that the music of some of our churches\n     is thoroughly profane, still justify its use on the plea that\n     it allures strangers, who may be favorably impressed with other\n     and more religious portions of the service. But this is a poor\n     justification of practices which annoy the real congregation, and\n     hinder devotion. No doubt a priest should seek to draw strangers\n     to his church, but all means are not equally legitimate toward\n     attaining this laudable end. Besides, the writer though entirely\n     unable to form any judgment which he could commend to the belief\n     of others, much doubts whether any priest could trace more than\n     a few conversions, if any at all, not to his church music, which\n     may partly be very ecclesiastical, but to his florid or orchestral\n     music, as to their origin.\"\n\nWe need to add little to this. The impressions left upon the mind\nafter being subjected to any one of such performances is well\nknown to all who have suffered. What religious feelings might one\nreasonably expect to have pervaded (may we not say the audience?)\nor what devotion could possibly be excited in the hearts of any\nunfortunate worshippers present on the occasion of which the\nfollowing is a report:\n\n     \"Haydn's Mass No. 16 was the great selection. The _Kyrie_ was\n     coldly given, the alto and bass, in the _soli_ parts, being\n     hardly strung up to tune. In the _Gloria_, however, both chorus\n     and soloists warmed to their work, and several of the finest\n     choral passages were given with great power and precision. The\n     _Credo_ was not taken up firmly, but every praise is due to the\n     manner in which the choir acquitted themselves at the finish,\n     and in the exquisite _Et Incarnatus_ and succeeding quartette\n     the four principal voices blended beautifully together, and the\n     alto (Miss ----) told well in the delivery of the leading and\n     interwoven subject, the _Sub Pontio_. The most critical would have\n     been satisfied with the evenness with which the principal voices\n     were balanced in this and the subsequent _soli_ passages. The\n     _Sanctus_ and _Hosanna_ were very fairly given, the _Benedictus_\n     being perhaps the most telling effort of all. The opening of the\n     _Agnus_ was not delivered sufficiently _staccato_, as the chorus\n     did not hang well together. The _Dona Nobis_ made up for all, and\n     throughout the principals acquitted themselves in unexceptionable\n     style, being well supported at the finish by the chorus.\"\n\nWe are aware that some, while agreeing with us, as they cannot help\nbut do, that \"masses\" in figured music, and \"figured vespers,\"\nare in the style of their composition essentially profane, yet\nchoose them, and cause them to be performed, on the plea that the\nsacredness of the place and the occasion of the divine office is\na sufficient corrective of their innate profanity, or that, being\n\"magnificent,\" \"sublime,\" \"classic,\" etc., such music may justly\nbe employed to adorn the grand functions of religion, and that\nthe theatre ought not to boast of _better_ music than the house\nof God; that--as one such admirer of classic music said to us--we\nought to \"spoil the Egyptians;\" or again, that Protestants are\nattracted to churches where such music is given, and may be led by\nthe charm of the music to inquire into the truths of our religion;\nand finally, that there is nothing else to take its place; the\nantiquated Gregorian chant being wholly unfit for the cultivated\nmusical ears of the nineteenth century, and to banish this music\nfrom Catholic churches would be to do an irreparable injury to high\nart. But all these pleas fail absolutely in producing any influence\nupon our judgment, the words of Dom Gueranger sounding so loudly\nin our ears as they do, and our own experience to the contrary.\nIn point of fact, the sacredness of the place where this kind of\nmusic is sung is no corrective of the unworthy nature of the music\nitself. Doubtless the cantatrice is denied the clapping of hands and\nthe _encore_ which her splendid singing calls for, and the _primo\nbasso_ retires from the front of the organ-gallery without a bow\nto his fashionable auditory--nevertheless interiorly disgusted, we\nwarrant, by the lack of some visible appreciation of one of his\nbest efforts--and a well-behaved congregation will quietly resume\ntheir attitude of prayer at the close of some crashing _finale_;\nbut are these sufficient evidences of the very opposite impression\nbeing produced upon the worshippers to that which the music from its\ncharacter, aside from the similar manner of its rendering, is not\nonly calculated but is expected to produce? \"I hold it for certain,\"\nsaid good old Saint Alphonsus, \"that vanity and the devil usually get\nmore by it than God.\"\n\nWhat those who defend the use of figured music in our solemn offices\nmust show is, that it not only edifies the faithful, but that it\nedifies equally with, or more than, the authorized chant. That\nit is the source of no little disedification; that it distracts\nthe soul from the great object upon which all its powers ought\nto be concentrated; that it is always more or less an imperfect\nperformance, and, in most cases, a mere makeshift; and that where the\norganist and singers are in power the sacred ministers play but a\nsubordinate part in a scene in which, as it has been well said, the\nmusic from the choir gallery is the magnet which attracts the gold\nand silver, there cannot be the shadow of a doubt.\n\nBut this is not all. Is figured music in conformity as to its style\nwith the spirit of the other portions of the divine office? Will\nits most strenuous adherents claim for it the title of being a fair\nand true expression of the Church's prayer? Does it harmonize with\nthose other parts of the office performed in the sanctuary? Here we\ncan speak feelingly. How often have we not been tempted to smile\nat our own voice intoning the _per omnia s\u00e6cula s\u00e6culorum_, as the\nechoes of that galloping _finale_ of an interminable \"offertory\npiece\" or Benedictus were yet resounding in the aisles of the\nchurch! What feelings of vexation have not arisen in our breast as\nthe response came back to our ears in slovenly haste, as if our\ninharmonious cadence had too quickly disturbed the well-merited\nrepose of our choir after, we must confess, their too successful\neffort to captivate the attention of the congregation, and put the\npriest in the very pillory of singularity and discord! Why must our\nmind at such times suffer the painful distraction of remembering the\nwell-known sarcastic remark, that \"the Rev. Mr. ---- then put up a\nsupplication which was one of the most eloquent prayers ever offered\nto a Boston audience!\"\n\nThe second plea, that these classic harmonies, so rich, so melodious,\nso sublime, etc., etc., should not be denied to the greater glory of\nGod, is of equally small weight, since there are many other things in\nnature and art extremely beautiful in themselves, truly classic in\ntheir conception and execution, which, it must be confessed, would\nhardly bear transporting to the house of prayer, and which it would\ntake the heroic virtue of a saint to refer to the greater glory of\nGod if exhibited in any place. We do not object to the offering of\nthese harmonies to God, but the question is, Do these harmonies,\nby their religious tone and devout style, offer themselves to God?\nDoes the Church judge them to be suitable for her divine offices? Let\nthese questions be answered in the affirmative, and our own personal\njudgment and sentiments shall go to the wall.\n\nThe plea that the music as now commonly heard in our churches\nallures Protestants, and thus brings them within sight and hearing\nof Catholic truth, has been already well answered in our quotation\nfrom Mr. Nary. For ourselves, judging from the behavior of the mass\nof these visitors, we are forced to the conclusion that they frequent\nour churches where fine music is given because they can get it at a\ncheaper rate than they would have to pay for it elsewhere.\n\nThat there is nothing else to take its place, and that the antiquated\nGregorian chant is unfit for our ears of modern cultivation, is\nsimply the plea of ignorance. The established chant of the Church\nnot only _can_ take its place, as we shall attempt to show further\non, but as a fact it has never ceded its right to any other style\nof music; and those who know any thing of the Gregorian chant\nscientifically, know that it is our modern ears that are at fault,\nperverted as they have been in their sense and appreciation of true\nreligious melody by the sensuous and effeminate spirit which pervades\nall modern art.\n\nIt is strongly urged that the reintroduction of the Gregorian chant\nin our churches, now wholly committed to the use of modern music,\nis impossible, for the hired singers will have nothing to do with\nit. To which we answer that, as the execution of the Gregorian chant\nnecessarily excludes female vocalists from the choir in accordance\nwith the sacred canons, the _prima donna_ will undoubtedly have to\nlook elsewhere for an engagement, and very likely the _tenore_ and\n_basso_ who sing in the Mass on Sunday in our church, and perform\nin the _opera buffa_ all the rest of the week, may refuse to employ\ntheir highly cultivated voices in singing music that affords them so\nlittle opportunity of exhibiting their artistic powers; but, we may\nask, are these the only favored beings whom God has endowed with good\nvoices and the ability to use them? We propose to enter more fully\ninto this question of difficulty, and think we shall be able to show\nthat in this as well as in other matters, \"where there's the will,\nthere's a way.\"\n\nIn the interests of art, it is asked, ought not the composition,\nand by consequence the reproduction of sacred music be encouraged?\nWill not its banishment from our churches be a species of vandalism\nin art greatly to be deplored? Let us look at this fairly. What\nis this so-called \"sacred\" music? Is it more or less than the\nadaptation of the words of prayer uttered by the church to concerted\nharmony composed as an artistic expression of the sentiment conveyed\nby the sacred words? Surely nothing more. But what is concerted\nharmony, as a rule, \"sacred\" or \"consecrated\" to? To the words of\nthe offices of the church? By no means. There is but one kind of\nmusic consecrated to that--the Gregorian chant. And, with our hands\nupon our hearts, can we say that modern music has received such an\naid in its development through the composition and execution of\nMasses, Magnificats, Offertories, Tantum Ergos, and the like, that\nits present state of advancement is as much indebted to them as\nis popularly supposed, or that their withdrawal from the service\nof the Church would prove any very serious detriment to it? As\npieces of musical art, the operas and oratorios of composers are\nfar superior to the masses they have written, and we who may choose\nwould much rather listen to them. We must not be understood to decry\nthe composition of so-called sacred music, or the singing of it.\nOn the contrary, we would do all in our power to encourage it; but\nwe object to its usurping the place of music better fitted for the\ndivine offices of the Church, and vastly surpassing it for such use\nin every particular. There is plenty of time, outside of the hour\nor two in which we are present at Mass or Vespers, to hear all the\nsacred music we desire or can bear. All we ask is, let the Church\npray her own prayers and sing her own divine song without hinderance,\nor the intrusion of harmonies as ill-suited to her voice as they are\npowerless to express the emotions of her more than human soul.\n\nThis leads us to the utterance of a grave complaint against modern\nsacred music, namely, the absurd settings of words by which the\ndivine offices are not only prolonged to a tedious extent, but the\nHoly Church is made to stammer, repeat, hesitate in her speech, and\nfall at last into an inextricable confusion of tongues. Did our pious\ncongregation below stairs know what their singers are singing up\naloft, they would not unfrequently be reminded of certain warnings\nagainst \"vain repetitions.\" The Masses of composers who wrote in the\nseventeenth and eighteenth century are not only open to the charge of\nbeing replete with these vain repetitions, but are full of the most\nridiculous blunders.\n\nWe subjoin a specimen. The words given are those sung by the\nleading soprano; the lines (--) show where the text is broken up by\ninstrumental interludes:\n\n     \"Glory to God in the highest----in the highest----to\n     God glory----to God glory----to God glory, glory to\n     God in the highest, to God in the highest, to God in\n     the highest, to God in the highest----to God in the\n     highest----and on earth peace----peace----peace to men,\n     and on earth peace----peace----peace to men----of good,\n     good----will----will----of good, good will, of good, good, good\n     will----of good, good will, of good, good, good will----of good\n     will----of good will----of good will----We praise, we bless----we\n     adore----we glorify----we give thanks to thee for thy great\n     glory, for thy great glory, for thy great glory, for thy great\n     glory----thy glory----thy glory----O Lord God, God, heavenly King,\n     God the Father Almighty----O God the Son----only begotten----Jesus\n     Christ; O Lord God, Lamb of God, Son of the Father----Son of\n     the Father----Son of the Father----Son of the Father----O Lord\n     God, Lamb of God, Son of the Father----O Lord God, Lamb of God,\n     Son of the Father, Son, Son of the Father----who takest, who\n     takest away the sins of the world, have mercy, have mercy, have\n     mercy on us----who takest away, who takest away the sins of the\n     world, receive our prayer, our prayer, our prayer, our prayer,\n     our prayer----who sittest, who sittest at the right hand of the\n     Father, have mercy, have mercy on us----have mercy, have mercy\n     on us----For thou only art holy, thou only art the Lord----only\n     art the highest, Jesus Christ----For thou only art holy----thou\n     only, thou only art the highest----thou only, thou only art the\n     highest, Jesus Christ----Jesus Christ----For thou only----thou\n     only art holy, thou only art highest----Jesus Christ, Jesus\n     Christ----For thou only, thou only art highest, Jesus Christ,\n     Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ----For thou only art holy, thou only\n     art the Lord----thou only art highest, Jesus Christ----For thou\n     only art holy, thou only, only art holy, thou only, only, art the\n     Lord.----For thou only art holy----thou only art the Lord----thou\n     only art holy, thou only art the Lord, only, art highest. For thou\n     only, thou only art holy----thou art the Lord----only art highest,\n     thou only art highest, Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ----For thou\n     only----thou only art highest----Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ----For\n     thou only, thou only art highest----Jesus Christ----Jesus, Jesus\n     Christ----Jesus, Jesus Christ----Jesus----Christ----With the Holy\n     Ghost----in the glory of God the Father. Amen, amen. With the\n     Holy Ghost, in the glory of God the Father. Amen, amen----Amen,\n     amen----With the Holy Ghost, in the glory of God the Father, Amen,\n     in the glory of God the Father----Amen----Amen----Amen----Amen,\n     amen, amen, amen.----With the Holy Ghost----in the glory of God\n     the Father. Amen. With the Holy Ghost, in the glory of God the\n     Father, Amen, amen, amen. With the Holy Ghost, in the glory of God\n     the Father, Amen, amen, amen, amen.----With the Holy Ghost----With\n     the Holy Ghost, with the Holy Ghost, with the Holy Ghost, in the\n     glory of God the Father, of God the Father, Amen, amen, amen,\n     amen, amen, amen----With the Holy Ghost, in the glory of God the\n     Father, Amen, amen, amen----in the glory of God the Father, Amen,\n     amen----of God the Father, Amen; in the glory of God the Father,\n     Amen; in the glory of God the Father, Amen----of God the Father,\n     Amen. With the Holy Ghost, in the glory of God the Father, Amen,\n     amen----of God the Father, Amen----of God the Father, Amen, amen,\n     amen, amen, amen.\"\n\nAnd this from Doctor Mozart's renowned Mass No. 12, which we have\nheard so often, and enjoyed so much! But he is not alone. We quote\nfrom an able paper from the _Dublin Review_ on \"Church Music and\nChurch Choirs:\"\n\n     \"Thus we have a 'Credo' beginning with the four phrases, _Credo in\n     unum Deum_--_Genitum non factum_--_Qui propter nos_--and _Et ex\n     Patre natum_--all sung simultaneously by the four voices. Again,\n     we have a 'Gloria' beginning with the four phrases, _Gratias\n     agimus_ (for the soprano)--_Domine Fili_ (alto)--_Domine Deus_\n     (tenor)--_Et in terra pax_ (bass)--the whole being dispatched in\n     two short pages of music!\n\n     \"As for instances of garblings by the omission of words and\n     clauses in much of the popular mass music, they are too numerous\n     to be mentioned.\n\n     \"One of the most grotesquely absurd settings, perhaps, is that\n     of the 'Alma Redemptoris' of Webbe. The words are divided into\n     three parts, the first ending with 'cadenti,' the second with\n     'genitorem,' the same music being used for each, _and a repeat\n     and musical interlude coming between_. The consequence is that the\n     adjective '_cadenti_' is entirely cut off from its substantive\n     '_populo_;' and the whole, as sung, is of course sheer nonsense.\n     The reason is plain. Webbe found an air which, by a threefold\n     repetition, could be applied to the words of the antiphon, and\n     for this every thing, even to the grammar of the piece, was\n     sacrificed. No doubt this is the history of many of the absurd\n     adaptations we meet with.\n\n     \"Nothing can go beyond the examples we have quoted, except,\n     perhaps, the instance of a composer of the 'light Italian school,'\n     who by way of producing an original and striking musical effect\n     in the 'Credo,' made one voice sing 'Genitum non factum,' and\n     another respond 'Factum non genitum!' It will be said that these\n     are extreme cases, and that many of the pieces are not likely to\n     be used in our churches. Be it so; still they show what it was\n     the fashion of certain composers to provide for the use of the\n     Church, and what is apt to come of the theory that it does not\n     matter what is sung by the choir, provided the people do not hear\n     it. But whether heard or not, the rules of the Church (and we see\n     how strict they are on these points) remain the same. Besides, do\n     we sing merely to satisfy the ears of an audience? Rather, is not\n     this the true principle--_In conspectu Angelorum psallam tibi,\n     Domine_?\"\n\nTo the ignorance, alas! so general, of what the Church is actually\nsaying in her holy offices, and what the choir is singing in her\nname, as well as of what they are omitting to sing as in duty\nbound, may be attributed in great measure the apparent indifference\nwith which the people of our congregations listen to any musical\nproduction from the choir, be it in harmony with the season or the\nfestival, as the case may be, or not, provided only that the voices\nare in harmony with each other. Did they know better, they would say\nwith Pope Benedict XIV., who, it seems, had some of our own abuses\nto contend with and reform in Rome itself, as other popes have had\nsince his time. Speaking of St. Augustine, who used to be moved to\ntears by the singing (be it well understood, not of such music as we\npossess) in the churches, he says that \"the music moved him indeed,\nbut still more so the words he heard. But he would weep now also for\ngrief; for, although he heard the singing, he could not distinguish\nthe words.\"\n\nLet us hear something more of the opinions of the same holy pope\nabout figured \"sacred music.\" \"The Gregorian chant is that song\nwhich excites the minds of the faithful to piety and devotion; it is\nthat music, therefore, which, if sung in our churches with care and\ndecorum, is most willingly heard by devout persons, and is justly\npreferred to that which is called figured or harmonized music. The\ntitillation of figured music is held very cheaply by men of religious\nmind in comparison with the sweetness of the Church chant, and hence\nit is that the people flock to the churches of the monks, who, taking\npiety for their guide in singing the praises of God, after the\ncounsel of the prince of psalmists, skilfully sing to their Lord as\nLord, and serve God as God with the utmost reverence.\"\n\nDid we add no more, we think we have said enough to show that the\nemployment of figured music for the divine offices is an abuse. It\ndoes not answer its purpose, and its permission is nothing better\nthan a winking at our weakness, (the wisdom of which, considering all\nthings, we by no means presume to condemn for the past,) while the\nprevailing sensuousness and libertinism of the times has debased and\nemasculated our taste in true religious art.\n\nBut it is a comfort to know that such music has never received from\nthe supreme pastors and rulers of the church any thing more than a\nreluctant permission, that the concessions they have made in its\nfavor have always been exacted by the force of circumstances, and\nthat they have constantly raised their voice in opposition to it as\nan abuse, and urged in the strongest terms of command and persuasion\nits abolition, and a return to the authorized chant, the universal\nsong of the Church, ever ancient and ever new.\n\nDilettanti talk, with an air of superior knowledge, of the Gregorian\nchant as if it were something obsolete, the uncouth production of\na barbarous and unartistic age. We think there are not a few other\nfashions and modes of religious expression besides her chant, that\nthe Church has persistently adhered to, which modern ideas might with\nequal justice denounce as obsolete and of unartistic origin. As has\nbeen well remarked,\n\n     \"This conservatism, if we may so call it, of the Church, is not\n     confined to plain chant. The same may be said of the language and\n     the style of her offices, the dresses of her clergy and religious\n     orders, and many of her rites, ceremonies, and customs. The chant\n     is, therefore, no stranger than any part of the Church system; and\n     that system being what it is, the antique character of the music\n     seems in every way suitable.\"\n\nTo be sure. What would we think of an archbishop to-day standing\nbefore the altar dressed in a frock-coat with a stove-pipe hat on\nhis head, and a pair of patent leather boots on his feet, giving his\nsolemn benediction _en roulade_?\n\nWhat we have said in regard to the wishes and commands of the Church,\nas expressed by the papal bulls and decrees of councils in regard to\nthis matter, we propose to prove by referring the reader to several\nof these authorities.\n\nAlexander VII., in his Constitution 36, _Pi\u00e6 sollicitudinis_, 23d\nApril, 1657, excludes all singing of pieces not contained in the\nliturgy or approved by the Congregation of Rites, and all profane\nstyles of music. (Bullar. t. 6.)\n\nThe Congregation of the Apostolical Visitation, July 30th, 1665,\nenforced and explained more fully the constitution of Alexander\nVII. The character of the music at Mass and Office is to be\necclesiastical, grave, and devotional. Only what is prescribed for\nthe day or season is to be sung. It prohibits prolonged solos. It\nprescribes that the words are to be sung as they were written,\nwithout any inversion, addition, or other change.\n\nThe popes, Innocent XI., 1678, and Innocent XII., 1692, renewed and\nenforced similar rules, imposing, as their predecessors had done,\nheavy penalties on choir-masters for disobedience. (V. Bullar. t. 7.)\n\nIn the Council of Rome, 1725, Benedict XIII. insists upon the\necclesiastical character of the music to be used in church. (Tit. 15,\ncap. 6.)\n\nBenedict XIV., in a circular letter, enters at large into the subject\nof church music, and, while he does not wholly condemn the use of\nfigured music, yet deplores the bad taste of those who employ it,\nas well as the great neglect of religion which he attributes to the\ncareless performance of the divine offices of the church. As we have\nseen already, he distinctly prefers the Gregorian chant, and refers\nin this letter to the decree of the Council of Trent in regard to it.\n\nClement XIII., Sept. 17th, 1760, issued an edict against the abuse of\nprolonging the music in church \"to the detriment of devotion and of\nthe approved rites, and in violation of the canons and rubrics.\"\n\nThe cardinal vicar of Gregory XVI., 1842, inveighs against tiresome\nrepetition and arbitrary inversion of words.\n\nPius IX., June 28th, 1853, showed his great wish for the thoroughly\nreligious character of church music; for in his letters establishing\nthe Seminario Pio, in connection with the Roman Seminary, he ordered\nthat the students should be taught the Gregorian chant, and no other.\n\"Cantus Gregorianus, omni alio rejecto, tradetur.\" (Tit. 5, de\nstudior. ratione.)\n\nThe latest instruction issued by the cardinal vicar, Nov. 18th,\n1856, denounces the scandals caused by the introduction of profane\ntheatrical music in the churches, and the interminable length of\ntheir execution, and, \"by express command of his holiness,\" lays down\na set of rules which are to be observed in future. At the same time\nthe cardinal issued a series of instructions to composers, from which\nit is evident very little encouragement is given them to write for\nthe Church, and they are so restricted that we very much doubt if\nthey care to put their Pegasus in such a cumbrous harness as the good\ncardinal prescribes.\n\nThe late Plenary Council of Baltimore confirms a decree made in the\nformer one, which reads as follows:\n\n     \"That all may be done according to prescribed order, and that the\n     solemn rites of the Church be preserved in their integrity, we\n     admonish pastors of churches to earnestly labor in removing those\n     abuses which, in our country, have crept into the church chant.\n     Let them, therefore, provide that the music be subservient to the\n     holy Sacrifice of the Mass and other offices, and not the divine\n     offices to the music. Let them also bear in mind that, according\n     to the ritual of the Church, it is not lawful to sing hymns in the\n     vernacular language at High Mass nor at solemn Vespers.\"[85]\n\nThe wishes of the fathers of the Council in regard to the Gregorian\nchant may be seen in the decree _De Vesperis_:\n\n     \"Moreover, we judge it to be most desirable that the rudiments of\n     the Gregorian chant be taught and practised in parochial schools,\n     and thus, the number of those who can chant the psalms well\n     increasing more and more, gradually the greater part, at least,\n     of the people, according to the usage of the primitive church yet\n     preserved in many places, may be able to join with the sacred\n     ministers and choir in singing Vespers and other similar offices;\n     which will be the source of edification to all, according to that\n     saying of St. Paul, 'Speaking to one another in psalms and hymns\n     and spiritual canticles.'\"[86]\n\nIn the same strain many bishops in Europe have raised their voices\nagainst the profane music which has crept insidiously into the holy\nplace, and urged a speedy return to the use of the ancient chant.\n\nFrom the authorities we have adduced we get at the mind of the\nChurch, and see that it is plainly adverse to the introduction of the\nmodern style of music in our sacred offices, and we have not been\nable to find one instance where its use has been officially permitted\nin any particular diocese but with the utmost reluctance, and not\nwithout expressing at the same time an earnest wish that the old\nchant of the Church might be restored to its primitive universal use.\n\nThere is also a significant fact not unworthy our notice. Looking at\nthe Protestant churches around us, we see that it is only in those\nwhich are fast losing their former hold upon some form of ritual in\ntheir religious meetings, that elaborate figured music is finding a\nhome, and garbled portions of \"the masses\" of Mozart, Haydn, and\nother Catholic composers are being sung to a nauseating adaptation\nof English words: while, on the other hand, those which are with\nequally rapid advances returning to the bosom of unity with the\nCatholic Church are cultivating the Gregorian chant to a degree which\nought to put us to the blush, and imitating, as best they may, the\necclesiastical and devout order of Catholic worship, and hold our\nfigured and florid music in deserved contempt. Straws show which way\nthe wind blows.\n\nSudden revolutions, however, are not to our mind; and we know\nsomething of the difficulties in the way of such a reform in the\nmatter of church music as the Church evidently desires, and a general\nmovement toward the ancient discipline which she would encourage\nand bless. Because we cannot do all in a day is no reason why we\ncannot do something in a week. In England, the clergy have taken\nthe whole subject to heart, and have already accomplished wonders.\nThere are many churches where the whole services are given entire.\nAll that is prescribed _de rigueur_ to be sung at Mass is sung.\nVespers and Compline strictly according to the breviary are chanted\nin more than one church by the whole congregation. They have not\nentirely eliminated figured music, but are reducing it to its lowest\nterms.[87] Few churches are without their boy choirs, trained to\nsing the devout song of the sanctuary. The zealous Archbishop of\nWestminster has issued an order that no new church be opened in his\ndiocese unless provision be made for a sanctuary choir. He has not\nthought it right, as he says, to enforce the orders of the former\nvicars apostolic, \"_Foemin\u00e6 voces ne audiantur in choro_,\" yet he\nadds, \"All that I can effect by the strongest expression of desire\nand by persuasion, I shall endeavor to effect.\"\n\nSurely we can also do something toward aiding the Church in\nliberating herself from this captivity to an expression of her\nmajestic offices so foreign to the true sound of her own voice.\nLooking back upon the days when the untiring voice of prayer was\nascending to heaven from the holy sanctuaries of religion, when the\nfestival days were kept and the faith was strong and the people\ndevout, a faith and devotion due in a great measure to the sacredness\nof liturgical worship and the inspiration of the holy chants, may\nwe not justly mourn the loss of this ancient fervor, and earnestly\nstrive to awaken an interest in what, for so many good reasons,\nappears to hold more than an accidental relation to it?\n\nWe have no doubt that the coming Oecumenical Council will speak in\nyet stronger terms in favor of a reform so vital to the interests of\nreligion in the whole world.\n\nIn subsequent articles we propose to consider some propositions made\nto ameliorate the present state of things, the characteristics of\nthe Gregorian chant as the true song of the Church, and offer some\nhints as to the manner of its execution, and the means of obtaining\nand holding a permanent chorus of singers who shall make the divine\npraises resound in our consecrated Houses of Prayer in a manner more\nedifying to the faithful, and more becoming the Divine Majesty.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[85] \"Ut omnia juxta ordinem fiant, et solemnes Ecclesi\u00e6 ritus\nintegre serventur, monemus rectores ecclesiarum ut sedulo invigilent\nad abusus eliminandos qui in cantu ecclesiastico in his regionibus\ninvaluerunt. Curent igitur ut sacrosancto Miss\u00e6 Sacrificio et aliis\nofficiis musica, non vero music\u00e6 divina officia inserviant. Noverint,\njuxta Ecclesi\u00e6 ritum, carmina vernaculo idiomate, inter Missarum\nsolemnia, vel vesperas solemnes, decantare non licere.\"\n\n[86] \"Insuper valde exoptandum esse censemus, ut rudimenta cantus\nGregoriani in scholis parochialibus exponantur et exerceantur,\nsicque numero eorum qui psalmos bene cantare valeant, magis\nmagisque in crescente, paulatim major saltem pars populi, secundum\nprimitiv\u00e6 ecclesi\u00e6 adhuc in variis locis vigentem usum, Vesperas et\nalia similia cum ministris et choro decantare possit. Qua ratione\nomnium \u00e6dificatio promovebitur, juxta illud S. Pauli, 'Loquentes\nvobismetipsis in psalmis et hymnis et canticis spiritualibus.'\"\n\n[87] We are not a little surprised to see the _Rules for Singers and\nComposers_ issued by the cardinal vicar of Rome, only, as far as we\ncan learn, for Rome itself, taken by certain English musical authors\nand publishers as a positive sanction of figured music, which has\nresulted in the recent publication of several masses both in unison\nand in parts, named after some saint. We commend most heartily the\nwell-meant effort, but augur for them but a very mediocre success.\nIf figured music is to be permitted at all, it will be found that\nneither priest nor organist, singers nor congregation are going to\nput up with what is second-rate.\n\nWe hope the prospectus of the publishers will be faithfully carried\nout and the rules of the cardinal vicar will be strictly adhered to.\n\"The masses,\" although baptized with the names of all the saints in\nthe calendar, will soon disappear from the \"holy courts of Christian\nsong,\" where, in our humble judgment, they have ever done more harm\nthan good.\n\n\n\n\nTHE EARLY HISTORY OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH ON THE ISLAND OF NEW\nYORK.[88]\n\nTHE COLONIAL DAYS.\n\n\nThe appearance of a new edition of the brief but valuable and\nattractive work which the present Bishop of Newark issued in 1853,\nis a matter of congratulation. The Catholics of New York City have\na history in this land, and it is too little known. Bishop Bayley\nwas the first to supply the want; he wrote, as the title-page shows,\nwhile still connected with the diocese of New York as secretary\nto the late distinguished archbishop; and of course with singular\nadvantages for correctness of details and for a just view of his\nsubject. We may here ask our readers to pause and look back with us\nat the early history of Catholicity in this busy metropolis, and\ntrace the progress of the church from its small beginning toward\nits present development, when we behold it with its archbishop, its\nzealous and active secular clergy, its regular clergy, embracing\nFranciscans of the Observance and Capucins, Dominicans, Jesuits,\nRedemptorists, Priests of Mercy, Paulists; its various orders and\ncongregations devoted to the instruction of youth, the care of the\norphan, the foundling, the wayward and the erring, whom it shelters\nin its asylums, hospitals, and protectorates, with a Catholic\nPublication Society, and several publishing houses and journals.\n\nThis progress the _Brief Sketch_ of Bishop Bayley enables us to trace\ndown to the year 1853, his duties as bishop depriving him of the\nleisure needed to collect and arrange materials to continue it to the\npresent time, by including an account of the progress since the work\noriginally appeared. But even then, as the title shows, it professed\nto treat rather of the earlier history than of that which is almost\ncontemporaneous.\n\nThe early history of the Catholic Church on the island of New York\nis indeed an attractive and interesting theme. It opens with the\nromantic story of the early Jesuit missions; for of the visits of\nthe Catholic navigators, Verazzani and Sebastian Gomez, we have too\nlittle detail to know whether a priest actually said mass on our\nisland.\n\nThe first priest who is known to have set his foot on the island of\nManhattan was an illustrious missionary, who, while on his way from\nQuebec to his mission ground on the upper lakes, was in 1643 taken\nby the Mohawks, tortured almost beyond the power of human endurance,\nspared to become the slave of savages, bearing their burdens in\ntheir winter hunts, in their fishing trips to Saratoga Lake and the\nHudson, on their trading visits to the Dutch Fort Orange, where\nAlbany now stands, bearing all, enduring all, with a soul ever wrapt\nin prayer and union with God, till at last the Dutch overcame his\nreluctance and saved him from the hands of his savage captors, as\nthey were about to put him to death. Covered with wounds and bruises,\nmutilated, extenuated, scarce human in dress or outward form, such\nwas Isaac Jogues, the first Catholic priest to enter our great city,\nthen in its infancy, to meet with respect and kindness from the\nDutch, with the reverence due to a martyr from the two Catholics,\nsole children of the ancient faith then in New Amsterdam.\n\nThe stay of this illustrious missionary was brief, and his ministry\nwas limited to the confessional, his chapel and vestments having\nfallen into the hands of the Indians, and greedily seized as trophies.\n\nGovernor Kieft displayed great humanity in his care of the\nmissionary, and seized the first opportunity to enable him to return\nto Europe. Panting for martyrdom, Father Jogues remained in his\nnative land only to obtain needed dispensations and permission to\nreturn to his labors. On reaching Canada, he found peace almost\nmade with the Mohawks, and, proceeding as envoy to their territory,\nconcluded a treaty. He was invited to plant a mission among them, as\nhis associates had done among their kindred, the Hurons. But when he\nreturned to do so, prejudices had sprung up, a hatred of Christianity\nas something baneful had seized them, the missionary was arrested,\ntreated as a prisoner, and in a few days put to death on the banks of\nCaughnawaga Creek, on the 18th of October, 1646.\n\nThe next priest known to have visited New York was the Italian Father\nBressani, who underwent a similar course of suffering, was captured,\ntortured, enslaved, and ransomed by the kindly Dutch; and by them\nsent to France. Although he subsequently published a short account of\nthe Huron missions, he is entirely silent as to New Amsterdam, and\nwe know nothing in regard to any exercise of the ministry during his\nstay on our island.\n\nThe first priest who came here actually to extend his ministry to\nany Catholics in the place was the Jesuit Father Simon Le Moyne,\nthe discoverer of the salt springs at Syracuse, and the successful\nfounder of the Mohawk and Onondaga missions. His visit was repeated,\nand there would seem to be a probability that he may have actually\noffered the holy sacrifice. The real field of his labors, and those\nof his associates, was, however, the castles of the Five Nations\nof Iroquois, in which, for many years, regular Catholic chapels\nsubsisted, winning many to the faith, and saving many by baptism in\ninfancy or in fatal illness. The converts at last began to emigrate\nto Canada, where three villages of Catholic Iroquois still attest the\npower of the gospel as preached by the early missionaries. Political\njealousies, infused by the English, gradually intensified the innate\ndislike of the pagans to Catholicity, and prejudice, debauchery, and\npenal laws at last drove the Catholic missionaries from a field in\nwhich they had labored with such courageous and unremitting zeal.\n\nFor years the only Catholic missionary in their territory was Father\nMilet, held at Oneida as a prisoner. Flying visits alone after this\nkept up the faith, and in 1709, Father Peter Mareuil, on the outbreak\nof war, retired to Albany, and the mission in the Iroquois country\nvirtually closed. The later and tardy Protestant efforts were in\na measure built on these early Catholic labors, and from Dellius\nto Zeisberger they gladly availed themselves of the pupils of the\nJesuits to form their own instructions.\n\nThis Iroquois church has its martyr missionary Jogues; its martyred\nneophytes, who died at the hands of their countrymen rather than\nrenounce Jesus to bow the knee to Aireskoi; and its holy virgin in\nCatharine Tehgahkwita, the Genevieve of New France. Then came the\ngrowth of mustard-seed in the Dutch colony. We hear of the freedom\nof worship achieved and established by the founders of the Dutch\nrepublic. It is indeed a favorite theme. Catholic and Protestant\nalike battled with Spain, and the blood of both won the liberty of\nthe Seven United Provinces. Then as now Catholics formed nearly half\nthe population of Holland. But as soon as freedom was obtained, the\nProtestants turned on the Catholics, who had fought by their sides,\ndeprived them of civil rights, put their religion under a ban,\nexpelled them from their ancient churches. In fact, they halted in\ntheir course of tyranny and oppression, only when fear dictated a\nlittle prudence.\n\nThe very church given to the English Puritans under Robinson, by the\nDutch authorities, was the church of the Catholic Beguines, whose\nresidences encircled the chapel of which Dutch laws deprived them, in\norder to give it to foreigners who reviled the creed that erected it\nand the worship of the Most High so long offered within its walls.\n\nWhen New Netherland was colonized, this fierce intolerance of the\ndominant party in Holland excluded Catholics from the new settlement\nas rigorously as Puritan fanaticism banished them from the shores\nof New England. The Catholic Hollander could not emigrate to the new\nland. No worship was permitted but that of the Protestant church\nof Holland. It is well to talk of Dutch toleration, but it is the\nveriest myth ever concocted; and in New Netherland, though men were\nreceived who had denied Christ and been pirates on Salee rovers,\nCatholicity was excluded.\n\nGradually a few Catholics did creep into the colony. Father Jogues\non his visit in 1643 found an Irishman and a Portuguese woman,\nforerunners of the four hundred thousand now on Manhattan Island.\nLe Moyne, as we have stated, subsequently visited the island, and a\nDutch domine avers that he did so in order to give the consolations\nof religion to some Catholic sailors and residents; but the\nfanaticism of Holland was here, and as an illustration of the freedom\nof worship supposed to exist, we find that in 1658 a Catholic in\nBrooklyn was punished for objecting to support a Reformed minister.\n\nBy the reduction of New York, in 1664, to the English sway,\nrestrictions were really if not explicitly removed. James, Duke of\nYork, was a Catholic, and his province of New York was for a time\ngoverned by Colonel Thomas Dongan, also a Catholic. His character and\ncareer are known to our readers. Under his administration Catholic\npriests for the first time took up their residence on the island.\nUnfortunately, we have little more than the names of three clergymen\nand some indication of the period of their stay; though hostile\nnotices tell us of one terrible crime they perpetrated--they actually\ndid erect a \"Jesuit colledge,\" and taught boys Latin. The King's\nFarm was assigned as the place for this institution of learning;\nbut before Catholicity could take an enduring form, James II. was\nhurled from his throne for trying to make the Anglican bishops speak\na little toleration. As has often happened, intolerance, with the\nbanner-cry of \"Liberty,\" became the order of the day. New York soon\nenjoyed the benefit of a governor of a true bigot stamp, grandson of\none of the bloodiest butchers in the blood-stained annals of Ireland,\nCoote, Earl of Bellomont. He disgraced the colonial legislation\nwith penal laws against Catholics, and characteristically lied in\nthe preamble of his act. But he was a stanch Protestant, and had\nsome curious dealings with Captain Kidd. The result of this change\nin New York affairs was that the King's Farm slipped into the hands\nof the Episcopalians, and they built Trinity Church on it. There is\nsome squabbling now about this property; why not settle the matter\namicably by devoting it to the object originally intended--\"a Jesuit\ncolledge\"?\n\nUnder the harrying that began with Leisler's usurpation of authority\nin the province on the fall of James, and his mad brain full of\nplots and \"diabolical designs of the wicked and cruel papists,\" such\nCatholics as had settled in New York seem gradually to have removed\nelsewhere; or, if they remained, reared families who were strangers\nto the faith.\n\nThus far Catholicity in New York had a strange history. Is it a\ndream? Fact first: Enlightened Dutch Protestants, champions of\nliberty of conscience, exclude Catholics, and when they creep in, tax\nthem to support a church against the dictates of their conscience.\nFact second: Enlightened English Protestants, after a great and\nglorious revolution, and of course full of toleration, passed penal\nlaws subjecting Catholic priests to imprisonment for life with\nmurderers and criminals. Fact third: Catholics during the brief\nperiod of their influence gave the colony a legislature, a bill of\nrights, freedom of worship to all Christians, and a college, and\nfirst attempted to elevate and christianize the negro slave. Bishop\nBayley thus narrates one of these glorious works:\n\n     \"The first act of the first assembly of New York convened by\n     Colonel Dongan was the 'Charter of Liberty,' passed October 30th,\n     1683, which, among other things, declares that 'no person or\n     persons which profess faith in God by Jesus Christ shall, at any\n     time, be any ways molested, punished, disquieted, or called in\n     question for any difference of opinion, or matter of religious\n     concernment, who do not actually disturb the civil peace of the\n     province; but that all and every such person or persons may, from\n     time to time and at all times, freely have, and fully enjoy,\n     his or their judgments or consciences in matters of religion,\n     throughout all the province--they behaving themselves peaceably\n     and quietly, and not using this liberty to licentiousness, nor to\n     the civil injury or outward disturbance of others.' By another\n     enactment, all denominations then in the province were secured in\n     their liberty and discipline, and the like privilege was granted\n     to others who might come into it.\"\n\nFor fifty years the history of Catholicity on New York island is\na blank. A priest was occasionally brought in as a prisoner on\nsome Spanish ship taken by a privateer; that is all. Catholics are\nscarcely alluded to. But an awakening came in 1741 in one of the\nwildest excitements in our annals. Catholics had, indeed, nothing\nto do with it, and for a long time no breath implicated the few\nCatholics with the supposed dangers, till a silly letter of General\nOglethorpe put the idea into the heads of the New York authorities.\nThen the negro question and the Catholic question, which have so long\nalternately afforded a topic for sensation, and have at times been so\noddly combined, met for the first time in New York annals.\n\nBishop Bayley thus describes the negro plot:\n\n     \"The year 1741 was made memorable by one of those popular\n     excitements which shows that whole communities as well as\n     individuals are sometimes liable to lose their wits. Upon a rumor\n     of a plot made by the negroes to burn the city and massacre the\n     inhabitants, the whole body of the people were carried away by a\n     sudden excitement. The lieutenant-governor offered a reward of\n     one hundred pounds and full pardon to any free white person who\n     would make known the author or authors of certain attempts to\n     set fire to houses in various parts of the city. A servant-girl,\n     named Mary Burton, living with a man named Hughson, who had been\n     previously condemned for receiving stolen goods, came forward to\n     claim the reward, declaring that certain negroes who frequented\n     her master's house (he kept a small tavern) had made a plot; one\n     of the accused, named Cuffee, she declared had said that 'a great\n     many people had too much, and others too little,' and that such\n     an unequal state of things should not continue long.[89] The\n     pretended disclosures increased the excitement, and the lawyers\n     of the city, to the number of seven, with the attorney-general,\n     were called together to take council in regard to the matter. They\n     certainly manifested very little coolness or judgment, and may be\n     said to have led on the unfair and unjust trials which followed.\n     The accused had no counsel allowed them; the attorney-general and\n     the whole bar were on the side of the prosecution; the evidence\n     was loose and inconclusive, and came without exception from\n     the mouths of interested persons of bad character. Yet, upon\n     such evidence as this, four white persons were hanged, eleven\n     negroes were burned at the stake, eighteen hanged, and fifty\n     were transported and sold, principally in the West Indies.[90]\n     Among those hung was the unfortunate Mr. John Ury. Whether he\n     was really a Catholic priest or not, he was certainly condemned\n     and hung as such. We have no other evidence upon the matter than\n     Horsmanden's account, and from this it does not clearly appear\n     whether he was really a priest or a nonjuring clergyman of the\n     Church of England.[91] The most conclusive fact in favor of\n     his being a priest is founded upon the circumstance that, when\n     arraigned as a priest, tried as a priest, and condemned as a\n     priest, he never formally denied it, nor exhibited any evidence of\n     his being ordained in the Church of England.[92]\n\n     \"The persons most to blame were the judges and lawyers. The\n     speech of the attorney-general on the trial of Ury, the sentence\n     given by Horsmanden upon certain of the negroes, and that by the\n     chief-justice on others, are so harsh, cruel, and abusive that we\n     could hardly believe it possible that they had uttered them, if\n     they were not published with the authority of Horsmanden himself.\n     It is evident, however, that their 'holy horror of Popery' had as\n     much to do with the whole matter as their fear of insurrection\n     among the blacks.\"\n\nOf course after this attack of insanity New York was scarcely a place\nfor a Catholic to reside. There must have been a few; but evidently\nthey avoided attracting attention. The next Catholic sensation was\nthat of a poor creature whose life had been a sad defiance of all\nreligion and morality, but who, at her death, sent some money to the\nRev. Mr. Inglis, rector of Trinity Church, with a request that she\nshould be buried in the church. She was indeed interred there, till a\nclamor rose fierce and loud. She was not only a public sinner but a\nCatholic; the latter, too terrible a sin to forgive, so she was taken\nup; but Mr. Inglis never recovered from the stigma.\n\nNot long before the Revolution, the few Catholics in New York were\nagain the object of the zeal of the Jesuit fathers, with whom so much\nof our history is connected. The mission of the sons of St. Ignatius,\nwhich in Maryland was coeval with the settlement of that colony,\ngradually extended to Pennsylvania and New Jersey, aided chiefly by\nthe bequest of Sir John James. The mission was one involving some\ndanger, and hence required great caution; but finally a Catholic\npriest stood in New York to begin to gather the faithful, and\nadminister the sacraments of which they had been so long deprived.\nThe priest who formed this first congregation, the nucleus of St.\nPeter's, and thus of all the Catholic institutions on the Island of\nManhattan, was a German Jesuit, Father Ferdinand Steinmeyr, known on\nthe American mission as Father Farmer. A man of extensive learning,\nnot only in the theological studies of his church, but in the natural\nsciences, the Royal Society of London had been glad to add his name\nto their list of members. Here he would have been a fit associate for\nColden, Franklin, and Barton, but the gratification of this taste\nwould have made him too conspicuous in a prejudiced and hostile\ncommunity; and the man of science submitted to be passed by without\nnotice, anxious only to do his duty as a missionary, and gather the\nlost sheep of Israel. The reticence required unfortunately leaves\nus without any direct information as to his visits, and we do not\npositively know when or where this man, whose learning would have\nadorned the colony of New York, first offered the holy sacrifice for\nthe pioneer congregation of Catholics in this city. Bishop Bayley\nhas collected the various early notes and hints on this interesting\npoint, but it is after all involved in great obscurity. Yet this\nfounder of Catholicity in New York City lived so recently, that\nthe writer, who can claim neither gray hairs nor advanced years,\nremembers several who had received the sacraments of the church at\nhis hands.\n\nFather Farmer came undoubtedly with the address of some German\nCatholic, and his visit would thus be less likely to attract\nattention, as German clergymen of various denominations often passed\nthrough the city. Mr. Idley, a German of the early day, claimed that\nmass was first said in his house in Wall street, and the claim may\nnot be unfounded.\n\nFather Farmer continued these occasional visits until the breaking\nout of hostilities with England. The defeat of Washington on Long\nIsland threw New York into the hands of the English, and for the next\nseven years his pastoral visits became impossible.\n\nSo long as the colonial dependence prevailed, the British government\nstimulated anti-Catholic fanaticism, because while this spirit\nwas fanned the colonies readily gave men and money to aid in the\nreduction of Canada. That French colony, after many fruitless\nattempts, at last fell under the combined efforts of the mother\ncountry and the colonies; but Canada, once reduced, became the object\nof sounder and more dispassionate statesmanship. By the surrender,\nthe Canadians were guaranteed certain rights, as the Irish were\nby the treaty of Limerick. Protestant governments have never been\nover-scrupulous on such points, and it was as easy to break faith\nwith the Canadians as with the Irish, but this time England was\nhonest. The Catholic Church was left almost intact in Canada; nay,\nits clergy continued under British rule to gather tithes and receive\ncertain traditional honors.\n\nThis was too much for the people of the older colonies to brook.\nThey had not lavished blood and treasure for this. The very bigotry\nnurtured by English rule now turned against it. And what wonder,\nthen, that the first standard of revolt reared in New York expressed\nthis long-cherished feeling, this hatred of Catholics so long\nencouraged by government, what wonder that the flag of American\nfreedom that first floated to the breeze in New York bore the motto,\n\"No Popery\"!\n\nHow little we can fathom the designs of the Almighty! Who looking on\nthat flag could see in it the germ of a freedom of the church which\nshe then nowhere out of the patrimony of St. Peter really possessed?\nYet it was there. Down to the French alliance, this anti-Catholic\nfeeling nerved the Whigs and discouraged the friends of British rule.\nThen it changed, and the Tory papers caught up every occasion to show\nhow zealously Protestant the British party was. While the selectmen\nof Boston followed a Catholic procession through the streets, and\nCongress went to mass, the British authorities in New York are\npointed out by a pamphleteer of the day as beyond reproach. They\nshowed their anti-Catholic zeal in this way:\n\n     \"In 1778, in the month of February, a large French ship was taken\n     by the British, near the Chesapeake, and sent for condemnation\n     into New York, at that time still in possession of the English.\n     Among her officers was a priest, of the name of De la Motte,\n     of the order of St. Augustine, who was chaplain of the vessel.\n     Being permitted to go at large in the city, he was solicited by\n     his countrymen, and by those of his own faith, to celebrate mass.\n     Being advised of the existence of a prohibitory law, he applied to\n     the commanding officer for permission, which was refused; but M.\n     de la Motte, not knowing the language very well, mistook what was\n     intended for a refusal as a permission, and accordingly celebrated\n     mass. For this he was arrested, and kept in close confinement\n     until exchanged. This was under Governor Tryon's administration.\"\n\nBenedict Arnold--for even this precious worthy may come in as\nan illustration--when he sat down in New York in his uniform\nof a British brigadier, to write his address to his countrymen\njustifying the step which he had taken, and which we are accustomed\nto characterize by the ugly name of treason, made his strong\nanti-Catholic feeling justify his course. He had entered the movement\nas a thorough Protestant; but when Congress began to favor popery,\nhe foresaw the ruin of his country, and as a true Protestant made\nhis peace with England. Strong as the anti-Catholic feeling had been\nin the hearts of the colonists, we do not find that this appeal\nof Arnold to their prejudices induced a single man to desert the\nAmerican ranks; it is far more likely that it may have sent some\nIrish soldiers from the British ranks to swell Washington's regiments.\n\nWe are apt to associate our republic with the idea of unbounded\nreligious toleration. As we have shown, hostility to Catholics was\na potent element in arousing the people to declare against Great\nBritain, and the State governments as originally framed bear deeply\nimpressed the traces of that common feeling which once, in Lyons,\nproclaimed in one line free toleration in matters of religion, and in\nthe next prohibited the mass under terrible penalties. If freedom\nwas dreamed of, it was to be one which we were not to enjoy.\n\nThe anti-Catholic feeling that characterized the first national\nmovement was displayed in the convention which in 1777 formed a\nconstitution for the State of New York. There no less a personage\nthan John Jay, subsequently minister to England and chief-justice\nof the Supreme Court of the United States, was the ardent, fiery\nadvocate of intolerance. Catholics of New York owe a debt of\ngratitude to Gouverneur Morris and Philip Livingston for the\nmanliness with which in that convention they fought the battle of\nhuman freedom and sought to check the onslaught of intolerance.\nBut they failed. Under that constitution no Catholic could be\nnaturalized, and the liberty of worship granted was couched in\nsuch terms as to justify the legislature at any time in crushing\nCatholicity, and in point of fact they at once adopted an iron-clad\noath that effectually prevented any Catholic from holding office.\n\nThe _Brief Sketch_ gives the debates on the interesting questions\nbefore the convention; and it notes how, in that curious system\nof language so common with our public speakers and writers, this\nconstitution found an advocate in the late polished Benjamin F.\nButler, of New York, who praised it in an address before the New York\nHistorical Society for its liberality in containing no provision\nrepugnant to civil and religious toleration, as though laws excluding\nCatholics from citizenship and office were not slightly repugnant.\n\nIn point of fact, however, the hostile feeling of the earlier days\nwas soon neutralized, and at the close of the war New York was\nvirtually free to receive a Catholic Church.\n\nHow, then, Catholicity took root and grew under the protecting work\nof men who\n\n    \"Builded better than they knew,\"\n\nhow it has spread and done its work of struggle and triumph under the\nfederal government, will be the matter of another article.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[88] _A Brief Sketch of the Early History of the Catholic Church\non the Island of New York._ By the Rev. J. R. Bayley, Secretary\nto the Archbishop of New York. Second edition. New York: Catholic\nPublication Society. 1869.\n\n[89] The city of New York at this time contained about 12,000\ninhabitants, of which one sixth, in all probability, were negro\nslaves. (Preface to second edition _Negro Plot_.) The foolish fears\nand prejudices of the inhabitants were not a little increased by a\nsilly letter written to them at this time by the good-intentioned\nbut visionary founder of the colony of Georgia, in which he warned\nthem to be on their guard against Spanish spies and incendiaries,\nespecially priests, whom he accused of having made a plot to burn the\nchief cities in the Northern colonies.\n\n[90] Several of the negroes were Catholics. Horsmanden mentions\nthat they held crucifixes in their hands and kissed them before\nthey died. This act of faith and piety on the part of these poor\nvictims of prejudice of course only served to confirm the enlightened\ninhabitants of Manhattan in the conviction that they had a very\nnarrow escape from being delivered over body and soul to the pope. It\nis a curious circumstance that a law made against Catholic priests\nshould have been enforced only once, and then resulted in the death\nof a Protestant clergyman.\n\n[91] Campbell, in his _Life and Times of Archbishop Carroll_, has\ngiven a clear and able analysis of the trial and of the evidence,\nupon which he concludes that the unfortunate Ury was undoubtedly a\npriest. Horsmanden always speaks of him as \"Ury the priest,\" in his\nhistory of the plot. It is my own opinion that he was a nonjuror.\n\n[92] Smith, in his _History of New York_, vol. ii. p. 73, says \"that\nMr. Smith, his father, assisted at the request of the government on\nthe trial against Ury, who asserted his innocence to the last. And\nwhen the ferments of the hour had subsided, and an opinion prevailed\nthat the conspiracy extended no further than to create alarms for\ncommitting thefts with more ease, the fate of this man was lamented\nby some and regretted by many, and the proceedings against him\ngenerally condemned as harsh, if not cruel and unjust.\" Ury was the\nson of a former secretary of the South Sea Company. He was executed\non an island in the Collect, near where the Halls of Justice now\nstand. \"Hughson was executed on the south-east point of H. Rutgers's\nfarm, on the East River, not ten rods from the south-east corner of\nCherry and Catharine streets.\"--_Notes on New York in the Appendix to\nWatson's Notes on Philadelphia._\n\n\n\n\nMATTERS RELATING TO THE COUNCIL.\n\n\nThe following items are condensed from a letter written to the\n_Correspondant_, and from other European periodicals.\n\nTribunes have been prepared in the chapel of SS. Processus and\nMartinus, where the council will be held for princes, or their\nambassadors, who will be permitted to attend the sessions, without,\nhowever, enjoying the privileges conceded to them in former councils.\nIt is in contemplation to cover the chapel with a roof of glass,\nin order to make the voices of the speakers more easily audible,\nas the chapel is equal in size to an ordinary cathedral. If this\nis not done, the ordinary sessions will have to be held in the\ngreat hall, where the mandatum is performed on Maunday-Thursday.\nIt is probable that the public will not be admitted, even to the\nsolemn sessions, although the doors leading into the basilica will\nbe thrown open. The entire pavement of the chapel will be covered\nby the magnificent carpet presented by the King of Prussia. It is\ndefinitely decided that the council shall be called the First Council\nof the Vatican. The first stone of the monument of the council was\nlaid on the 14th of October. It has been determined to admit the\ngenerals of orders and honorary abbots without jurisdiction to seats\nin the council. Two of the four legates who are to preside in the\nabsence of the sovereign pontiff have been named, the Cardinals\nBilio and De Reisach. The preliminary labors of the theologians\nhave been completed, the commissions dissolved, and the results\nof their work have been formulated ready for presentation to the\ncouncil. The Holy Father has declared that the most complete liberty\nof discussion will prevail, and that no decisions will be approved\nwhich have not been passed by a vote approaching to unanimity. Mgr.\nGianelli, secretary of the permanent congregation of the council,\nhas said that the session of the council will necessarily be a long\none, on account of the great number of questions to be proposed for\ndiscussion. The mode of publishing the decisions has not yet been\ndetermined. Some propose that the official journal of Rome publish\na daily _compte rendu_ of the acts of the session; others, that the\n_Civilta Cattolica_ be published more frequently, with an account\nof the debates and decrees; while others think that no publication\nwill be made until the close of the council. The report that the Holy\nFather was displeased with the _mandement_ of the German bishops\nassembled at Fulda is contradicted. On the contrary, he was well\nsatisfied with it, and a favorable notice of it has appeared in the\n_Civilta Cattolica_. It is reported that M. l'Abb\u00e9 Freppel has been\ncharged with an important commission in reference to those English\nProtestants who may be disposed to come to the council.\n\nA superb history of the council, illustrated in the highest style of\nart, is to be published at Rome as a private enterprise, in six folio\nvolumes. The first will contain the life of the sovereign pontiff,\nPius IX.; the second, the biographies of the cardinals; the third\nwill contain a description of all the grand functions and ceremonies\nwhich are celebrated at Rome; the fourth will contain a history of\nall the preceding councils; the fifth will contain the biographies of\nall the prelates who assist at the council; the sixth will contain\nthe acts of the council. These volumes will contain a great number of\nlithographic portraits, and of chromo-lithographic illustrations of\nthe places, scenes, costumes, etc.\n\nAll anxiety which may have been felt in regard to the disposition of\nthe French Liberal Catholics toward the council is completely set at\nrest by the clear and emphatic declaration of their principal organ,\nthe _Correspondant_, that they will submit most unreservedly and\njoyously to all its decisions, as expressing the infallible judgment\nof the church.\n\nThe Grand Master of the Free-Masons of France has published a\ncircular calling an extraordinary convention of the order, to meet\non the 8th of December, in order to issue a manifesto declaring\nthe principles of universal human right. The Anti-Council of\nFree-Thinkers will also assemble at Naples on the same day.\n\n\n\n\nFOREIGN LITERARY NOTES.\n\n\nIt was simply natural that the universal desire to hear and learn\nsomething concerning the approaching Oecumenical Council--a desire\nthat with some meant anxiety for serious knowledge and with others\nmere idle curiosity--should be responded to by writers willing and\nable to gratify it. We should far transcend our prescribed limits\nwere we to undertake to do more than give a list of works on the\nsubject possessing the mere qualities of serious treatment and some\ndegree of merit. Of a large class of works on the council whose\nobject is to vulgarize the subject we of course make no mention. Not\nto speak of pamphlets without number, France and Germany have been\nmost prolific in literary productions concerning the council. Indeed,\nin these two countries alone, books of solid erudition and elevated\ntone are so numerous as almost to form a special encyclop\u00e6dia,\ntreating of the council from the various stand-points of history,\nlaw, politics, social philosophy, liturgy, and theology. And now,\nscanning more narrowly the long list, we find ourselves obliged to\npass over in silence many of them that present the subject simply\nas historical, doctrinal, or specially theological, and to confine\nour brief mention to those which distinguish themselves from the\nmere treatise by an exceptional style and tone that render them\nmore spirited and militant. We begin with _La Soci\u00e9t\u00e9 devant le\nConcile, par le Chanoine Martinet_. For the great majority of persons\noutside of the Catholic Church in England and the United States,\nthe mere title of this work is in itself a surprise. They have been\nso absorbingly occupied in arraigning the council before society in\ngeneral and before their own little societies in particular, that it\nnever appears to have occurred to them that a counter-arraignment\nwas among modern possibilities. They have busied themselves, and\nfor that matter still busy themselves, in squaring the ability and\njurisdiction of the church by what they are pleased to call the\ndemands of modern society--the ideas of modern civilization; as\nthough these demands and these ideas were so perfectly recognized,\nclassified, and codified as to present a compact and intelligible\nsystem. And yet, if, going from one to another of the entire chorus\nso loudly chanting the hosannas of the assumed system, we ask what\nis this system, you will find that no two of them agree. If the\nOecumenical Council were to commence its work by a decree that should\nmeet the views of any given one out of a hundred of them, there would\narise a shout of malediction from the other ninety-nine. Suppose the\northodox Episcopalian to be satisfied, the Unitarian would inevitably\nbe discontented. And if the Socialist could with any reason\napprove of what was done, just so certainly it would not suit his\nPresbyterian neighbor. Thus, for instance, take the first fourteen\narticles of the so-called \"Papal Syllabus,\" of December, 1864, and\nwill any one undertake to point out the Protestant country in Europe\nor in America in which one half the community would not be at once\narrayed against the other half on the question as to whether they are\ntruth or error? People talk of modern civilization and the spirit of\nthe age as though these expressions conveyed a clear and definite\nmeaning, and represented certain ideas distinctly recognized as truth\nby all; as though this so-called spirit of the age were something\nas definite, as tangible, and of as efficacious an application as a\ncode of civil law; and as though its practical working were one of\ntruth and harmony; whereas, in reality, no incomprehensible jargon\nof words, no jumble of ideas, no jungle of thicket is so helplessly\nconfused and impenetrable as the maze of struggling, confused, and\ncontradictory theories supposed to constitute the spirit of the age\nand serve as the exponent of modern enlightenment. We are not aware\nthat the author of the work before us takes this view of the matter;\nbut it is one so irresistibly suggested to us by the juxtaposition\nof the two statements--society before the council, and the council\nbefore society, that we cannot avoid expressing it. The enemies of\nthe church, whose fear of her and whose ignorance concerning her\nare equally great, have long announced that she is in her decline;\nand yet she is now about to affirm her existence by a movement of\nprodigious vitality--an oecumenical council. The council, pronounced\nimpossible by a great number, will obtain its first success by\nshowing the falsity of the asserted impossibility of the attention of\nthe world. \"The council,\" says the Abb\u00e9 Martinet, \"will do all that\nneeds be done to classify and render co\u00f6rdinate without destroying,\nall those ideas whose want of unity distracts us, whose opposition,\nreal or apparent, creates strife and destructive collision among\nsocial classes and nations. Not only will it place in the light grand\nprinciples, great truths, but it will show to all right-minded men\nuniversal Catholic truth, which, in enlightening and conciliating all\ntruths, all principles, prevents them from degenerating into serious\nerrors in theory, into great iniquities in application. Possessing\nthe centre of lights that do not deceive, it will elevate the source\nof the vital forces which save individuals, families, and nations.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_Le Concile Oecumenique et la Situation Actuelle, par M. l'Abb\u00e9\nChristophe_, presents the main ideas of the preceding work, with more\nconcision.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_L'Influence Sociale des Conciles_ is by M. Albert Du Boys, already\nknown as the author of a meritorious work on jurisprudence.[93]\nThe work now under consideration is a historical study in which\nthe author describes the influence former councils have exercised\nupon the past. From a social point of view, the author shows that\nthe councils have powerfully contributed to the enfranchisement and\namelioration of humanity by victoriously combating the material and\nmoral disorders of rude and barbarous ages, by their promotion of\nthe foundation of hospitals and institutions of charity, by their\ndenunciation of errors and superstitions injurious to public order\nor social well-being, by their gradual renunciation of clerical\nprivileges and immunities whenever those immunities and privileges\nappeared to have become anomalous in a new social order. Showing that\nall the elements of modern civilization come to us from and through\nthe church, the author concludes that the coming council will not be\nless inspired by the spirit of the gospel than the councils that have\npreceded it. The work is accompanied by a complimentary letter of\nthe distinguished Bishop of Orleans, who says in it that the council\nassembles no less for the good of civil than of religious society.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[93] _Du Droit Criminel des Peuples Anciens et Modernes._\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe _Lettre sur le Futur Concile Oecumenique_, by the Bishop of\nOrleans, a translation of which was given in THE CATHOLIC WORLD,\nhas already reached its seventh edition. The immense notoriety\nacquired by this small book in the Catholic world, and the letter\nof felicitation received by its author from the sovereign pontiff,\nhave made it so generally known as to dispense us from very special\nmention of it. Bishop Dupanloup thus assigns the council its place\nin the firmament of truth. \"It will be,\" he says, \"a rising, not a\nsetting sun.\" Addressing himself to the human mind separated from the\nchurch, he says, \"While you disperse, we unite; while you lose, we\nretain.\" And again, \"In all this world, only the church and the sun\nare able to affirm positively that they will arise the next day, and\nthis is what the church does in daring, amid the existing tumult, to\nannounce a council.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_Le Concile Oecumenique, son Importance dans le Temps Pr\u00e9sent_, is\nthe title of a work equally well known in Germany and in France. It\nis translated from the German, and is from the pen of the Bishop of\nMayence, Rt. Rev. Dr. Ketteler. He demonstrates, with his well-known\nlearning and eloquence, than for eighteen centuries the infallible\nteaching of the church has had no eclipse.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnother work not less remarkable is by Monseigneur Deschamps,\nArchbishop of Malines, and entitled, _L'Infaillibilit\u00e9 et le Concile\nG\u00e9n\u00e9ral_. It discusses the question of the infallibility of the head\nof the church.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFinally, the Abb\u00e9 Jaugey, in his _Petit Trait\u00e9 Th\u00e9ologique sur le\nConcile Oecumenique_, appears to have addressed himself to the class\ncommonly known as \"worldly people.\" In an easy and pleasant style he\nexplains on this grave subject all that such people desire to know,\nand at the end of his work groups under five headings the subjects\nmost likely to be passed upon by the council. These are,\n\nFirst. Speculative truths, or the natural and supernatural orders and\ntheir mutual connection.\n\nSecond. Moral truths concerning civil society.\n\nThird. Truths concerning marriage.\n\nFourth. Truths concerning the authority and the infallibility of\npopes.\n\nFifth. Truths concerning the rights of the church, and its relation\nto the state.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nCatholic England has lately made a solid contribution to the\nhistoric-critical literature of the Pentateuch in _The Book of Moses,\nor the Pentateuch in its Authorship, Credibility, and Civilization_.\nBy the Rev. W. Smith. Vol. I. London. 577 pages. It is highly spoken\nof by the best German biblical critics, and specially commended for\nits strength in the historical treatment of the subject.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSome two years since, Alfred Ritter von Arneth edited a volume of\nthe correspondence between Maria Theresa and her daughter Marie\nAntoinette, and a collection of the letters of the unfortunate queen\nof France to her brothers Joseph and Leopold. Both these works\nwere not only valuable contributions to history, but of the most\ntouching interest to every class of readers. The same author has\nnow published[94] at Vienna, the remarkable correspondence between\nCatharine, Empress of Russia, and Joseph II., Emperor of Austria.\nBetter than the most eloquent essay or the most erudite history,\nthese letters show us these two personages in the truest of colors,\nand they form edifying reading for any one not fully and blindly\ncommitted to the belief in the \"right divine of kings to govern\nwrong.\" Under profound assurances of esteem and the most hyperbolical\ncompliments, you see an utter absence of respect or of belief in\nthe honesty, the one of the other. Each had his or her designs to\naccomplish--that is to say, the stealing of other people's land\nand the annihilation of other people's rights; the manner of the\ntransaction proposed being similar to the disposal of a flock of\nsheep or the transfer of a turnip-field. Of their sincerity, take a\nsingle specimen. Joseph writes to Catharine, January 9th, 1781, and\nforwards the letter to his prime minister Kaunitz, with the following\nconfidential note:\n\n     \"MON CHER PRINCE: Voici ma lettre \u00e0 l'imp\u00e9ratrice; je vous prie\n     d'y ajouter ou retrancher ce que vous voudrez, mais il faut savoir\n     qu'on a \u00e0 faire avec une femme qui ne se soucie que d'elle et plus\n     de Russie que moi; ainsi il faut la chatouiller. Sa vanit\u00e9 est son\n     idole; un bonheur enrag\u00e9 et l'hommage outr\u00e9 et \u00e0 l'envie de toute\n     l'Europe l'a g\u00e2t\u00e9e. Il faut d\u00e9j\u00e0 hurler avec les loups: pourvu\n     que le bien se fasse, il importe peu de la forme sous laquelle on\n     l'obtient.\"[95]\n\nDeath could not wait for the fruition of most of their selfish\ncombinations. Even at this day, nearly a century later, several\nimportant projects discussed between them have not yet received a\nsolution.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[94] _Joseph II. und Catharine von Russland, ihr Briefwechsel._ Wien.\n1869.\n\n[95] \"MY DEAR PRINCE: I send you my letter to the empress. Make such\nalterations in it as you please, bearing in mind that we have to do\nwith a woman who cares only for herself, and more for Russia than for\nme. So then tickle her vanity which is her idol. An insane good luck\nand the exaggerated homage of all Europe have spoiled her. We must\nhowl when others yell; provided good is effected, it matters little\nhow or in what manner it is obtained.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAn elaborate work on China is _France et Chine. Vie Publique et\nPriv\u00e9e des Chinois Anciens et Modernes, etc. etc._ Par M. O.\nGirard. 2 vols. 8vo. This is not a mere book of travels, but a work\ndescriptive of the political, social, civil, military, and religious\ninstitutions of China, its philosophy, literature, science, and\nart. It appears to be the joint result of personal observation\nduring a residence in the country, and of long and careful study\nof Chinese history and literature. Coming from an ecclesiastic,\nwe might naturally expect to find a large portion of the book\nfilled with accounts of the missions of the church in China. That\nsubject, however, receives scarcely more than mere mention, the\nauthor evidently thinking that such information is already elsewhere\naccessible, and that it is now of more importance to make the country\nknown in its more peculiar aspects. The book is too ambitious in\nits scope to be thorough, and we think it is to be regretted that\nthe author did not rather give us an account of his residence (if\nresidence he had) in China, grouping about facts and incidents as\nthey arose the varied and extensive knowledge he appears to possess\nof the Flowery Kingdom.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIn accordance with the desire of several American bishops of the\nCatholic Church, and under the auspices of the Bishop of M\u00fcnster,\n(Westphalia,) the college of St. Maurice, near M\u00fcnster, was founded\nin the spring of 1867, expressly for the education of theological\nstudents destined for the priesthood in missions of the United\nStates. Not only young men from Germany but from America, enter\nthe college, of whose course of studies the English language forms\nan important feature. The institution has already sent forth seven\npriests. Persons desiring special information concerning the\ninstitution, may address, \"Rev. Mr. Witte, St. Maurice, M\u00fcnster,\nWestphalia, Germany.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThere has lately appeared at Venice a work[96] equally curious and\ninteresting on Abyssinia, (Ethiopia,) or rather on its relations\nwith the republic of Venice. It shows that centuries ago Abyssinia\nhad reached as high a degree of civilization as Europe.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[96] _Lettera sulla cogniziani che i V\u00e8neziani avevano dell'\nAbissinia, etc. etc._ 1869. 8vo.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nOn the occasion of the late centennial anniversary in honor of\nMacchiavelli, there was produced a singular literary work of\nhis, hitherto entirely unknown.[97] It is a translation, made by\nMacchiavelli himself, of a work written by Saint Victor, Bishop of\nUtica, on the persecution of Christians in Africa, under the reign of\nHuneric, King of the Vandals, in the year 500.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[97] _Niccolo Macchiavelli ed il suo centenario, con una sua versione\nstorica non mai publicata._\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe question so familiar to all Americans some dozen years ago, Have\nwe a Bourbon among us? is now practically asked in England,[98]\nand one Mr. Augustus Meves disputes the place claimed for the\nRev. Eleazar Williams. For any one who has seriously examined the\nhistorical paradox involved in this question there can remain no\ndoubt that the son of Louis XVI.--called Louis XVII.--died in Paris,\nand was buried in the cemetery of the church of St. Margaret, in the\nFaubourg St. Antoine, on the 10th of January, 1795. There can also\nbe as little doubt that Messieurs Williams and Meves were, with more\nless sincerity, impostors.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[98] _The Authentic Historical Memoirs of Louis Charles, Prince\nRoyal, Dauphin of France, second son of Louis XVI. and Marie\nAntoinette, etc. etc. The Memoirs written by the veritable Louis\nXVII., etc._ London. 8vo.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe great and justly celebrated work of the Chevalier Rossi on\nsubterranean Rome has just been published in England in a translated\nabridgment.[99] It is a superb volume, beautifully and profusely\nillustrated. All that is essential in Rossi's work has been preserved\nin the present, and important additions made. The work is especially\nfull and satisfactory concerning the frescoes of the catacombs, the\ntransition from pagan art to Christian symbolism, the sarcophagi, the\nceremonies of the primitive church, and other similar subjects. MM.\nNorthcote and Brownlow establish irrefutably that the catacombs were\nnever used as a burial-place for any but members of the Christian\nchurch, and moreover, conclusively show that the objections presented\nto this hypothesis will not bear examination.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[99] _Roma Sotterrenea._ Compiled from the Works of Commendatore\nRossi. By J. S. Northcote, D.D., and Rev. W. Brownlow, M.A. London:\nLongman. 1 vol. 8vo.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nM. Athanase Coquerel fils is well known as a preacher in one of the\nProtestant churches of Paris, and as the author of two or three works\non literature and the fine arts. During the past year he delivered\na series of lectures at Amsterdam, Strasburg, Rheims, and Paris,\nwhich, being revised and corrected, have lately appeared in a small\nvolume under the title of _Rembrandt et l'Individualisme dans l'Art_.\nM. Coquerel is troubled--and very much troubled--by the superiority\nof Catholicity in art--is desirous of convincing the world that it\nlabors under a mistake, and, if we will consent to look through M.\nCoquerel's spectacles, we will see that it is not only doubtful if\nCatholicity possesses the superiority so generally attributed to it,\nbut rather certain than otherwise that Protestantism rightly claims\nit. Here are two of the processes by which M. Coquerel arrives at\nthe results mentioned, and they are remarkable for their simplicity.\nFirst. Rembrandt was a great genius, and he owes his greatness to the\nliberal element, to the spirit of individualism of the reformation.\nSecond. Leonardo da Vinci, says M. Coquerel, \"was certainly great\nin the domain of art, and we cannot say that he was absolutely a\nstranger to Christian sentiment.\" Really, a very handsome admission\non the part of M. Coquerel when we remember that da Vinci is the\npainter of the immortal \"Last Supper.\" \"But what is there in all\nthis,\" continues our author, with an apparently serious countenance,\n\"what is there in all this that is Catholic?--a Protestant would not\nhave conceived the subject otherwise!\" And here was the opportunity\nfor M. Coquerel to mention the names of half a dozen or so of\nProtestant da Vincis; but, strange to say, he neglects it. The\ngentlemen referred to have thus far eluded public observation. One\nfact in connection with this subject is very suggestive. It is that\nthe superiority of Catholicity in art may sometimes be disputed by\nProtestant ministers and controversialists, but by artists, never.\n\n\n\n\nNEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n\n     A LITTLE BOY'S STORY. (M\u00c9MOIRES D'UN PETIT GAR\u00c7ON.) By Julie\n     Gouraud. Translated from the French by Howard Glyndon. With\n     eighty-six illustrations from designs by Emile Bayard. New York:\n     Published by Hurd & Houghton. Cambridge: Riverside Press. 1869.\n\nThis is a pleasant story for children; simple, full of real life,\nand the more interesting from being apparently written by one\nof themselves. It will interest American boys and girls to know\nhow French children live, how they play and think and study. The\nillustrations are excellent, and will be a perfect delight to the\nlittle ones.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     A MEMOIR ON THE LIFE AND CHARACTER OF THE REV. PRINCE DEMETRIUS A.\n     DE GALLITZIN, FOUNDER OF LORETTO AND CATHOLICITY IN CAMBRIA CO.,\n     PA.; APOSTLE OF THE ALLEGHANIES. By Very Reverend Thomas Heyden,\n     of Bedford, Pennsylvania. Baltimore: John Murphy & Co. 1869.\n\nIt is impossible that any one at all interested in the history of\nthe faith in our country should fail to welcome the appearance of\nthis memoir of the great and good priest Father Gallitzin. A Russian\nprince of high rank, baptized and educated as a child in the Greek\nschismatical church, he early became a convert to the Catholic faith.\nThough destined by his father, the Prince Demetrius, for the military\nservice, Providence directed his steps to America, where he had\nscarcely landed when he felt himself urged, as he says, \"to renounce\nall his schemes of pride and ambition, and to embrace the clerical\nprofession for the benefit of the American mission.\"\n\nOrdained priest by Bishop Carroll in 1795, he was sent as a\nmissionary to labor single-handed in the immense district of country\nwhich now embraces the dioceses of Pittsburg, Erie, and Harrisburg.\nOne can easily imagine the severe hardships and sacrifices that fell\nto his lot, and which were nobly sustained for forty-six years with\nthat apostolic zeal which always and in every place distinguishes the\nCatholic missionary.\n\nAmid the incessant labors and unrespited fatigues of his career he\nstill found time to devote himself to literary pursuits. His _Defence\nof Catholic Principles_, and _Letter on the Holy Scriptures_, to-day\nso widely known, are clear, logical expositions of the Catholic\nfaith surpassed by few controversialists. This little memoir of the\nlearned, holy, and self-sacrificing priest needs no commendation from\nus to insure its extensive circulation among the Catholics of our\ncountry, while we would say to those who are not of us: Read here\nthe life and character of a true priest, and the labors of a real,\n_bon\u00e2-fide_ missionary.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     CANTARIUM ROMANUM: PARS PRIMA: ORDINARIUM MISS\u00c6. Studio et\n     sumptibus Monachorum Ord. S. Benedicti. Conv. St. Meinradi, Ind.\n     1869. Benziger Brothers. New York and Cincinnati. Harmonized\n     edition.\n\nWe are sorry not to have had this volume before our eyes when called\nupon to notice the same work, in simple melody without accompaniment,\nissued some months ago. The harmonies enable us to interpret\nthe movement, which alone we deemed ill regulated. We are aware\nthat it is extremely difficult to express in musical notation the\nmelodic movement of Gregorian chant, and that even the same phrase\nis dependent, as to the style of its execution, upon the spirit of\nthe season or festival when it is sung. Pure Gregorian chant is not\nrhythmical in its measure, yet we think that a work intended for\nthe use of our singers and organists, who, as a class, are utterly\nignorant of its traditional expression, might very well be so\narranged as to afford an approximative notion of it. The notation\nin this work does not make any such attempt, but gives a simple\ntranslation of the ancient Benedictine melody into semibreves and\ncrotchets, without further direction. If sung rigidly according to\nthe relative length of the notes as they are written, most certainly\nthe singer would fail to give the true expression either of the Latin\nor of the melody in several phrases. A careful study would perhaps\ncorrect this in many instances. Since our reception of the book we\nhave had the pleasure of hearing this chant rendered by one perfectly\ncompetent to give its true meaning, and must confess that it disarmed\nall adverse criticism. On principle we object to the introduction\nof the sensible note which prevails throughout, but do not wish to\nquarrel with those who, contrary to us, deem it only a matter of\ntaste. Every organist would do well to procure and study this most\npraiseworthy contribution to the much to be desired reformation in\nour church music.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     GERMAN TALES. By Berthold Auerbach. With an introduction by C. C.\n     Shackford. Boston: Roberts Brothers.\n\nThis volume, containing five short German tales, is a charming book,\nreplete with life and spirit, full of beautiful descriptions of\nquaint German customs, and overspread with wise and gentle teachings\nthat are \"like apples of gold in pictures of silver.\"\n\nPure morals, kindliness, and heartfelt interest in the brotherhood of\nman breathe through these pages.\n\nIt is entirely free from that vein of self-conceit so visible in\n_Villa Eden_, by the same author, and the pages are not sullied by\nthe infidel opinions which mar that volume; opinions \"that have\nno sure, firm soil out of which they grow, but skip about like a\n'will-o'-the-wisp' in the blue ether, very readily changing from\ntranscendental to nonsensical.\" Indeed, we think these early German\ntales a great _improvement_ on his later works.\n\nAuerbach displays a keen power of analyzing hearts and motives,\nbringing to light the hidden springs of action; and in these stories\nit is done with such kindliness and evident desire to look on the\nbest side of human nature, that his searchings of the heart leave no\nsting.\n\nThe book is in excellent type and paper, and, being of the \"Handy\nVolume Series,\" would make a most comfortable and pleasing travelling\ncompanion.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE MYSTERIES OF THE OCEAN. Translated, edited, and enlarged from\n     the French of Arthur Mangin, by the translator of _The Bird_. With\n     one hundred and thirty illustrations by W. Freeman and I. No\u00ebl.\n     London: T. Nelson & Sons, Paternoster Row; Edinburgh and New York.\n     1868.\n\nM. Mangin has chosen a grand subject, and treated it in a masterly\nand comprehensive manner. He takes us back to the very beginning of\nOld Ocean, when \"Darkness was upon the face of the deep, and the\nSpirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.\" These ages of chaos\ngive him an opportunity of setting forth innumerable theories--enough\nto suit even the most scientific; and fancies enough to please\nthe most imaginative. Here is his picture of the primeval ocean:\n\"Imagination not unwillingly pictures to itself the strange and\nsuperb spectacle of a limitless ocean seething over its volcanic\nbed, and heaving in every direction its contending billows, kindled\nhere and there by the blood-red lustre of a glowing sky, struggling\nthrough a dense and stifling mist; while in its waves myriads of\ninvisible beings, embryos of future organisms fighting for life, and\nrising to the surface in quest of inspiring light, wait expectant,\namidst the throes of the terrible stir and tumult all around them,\nthe dawn of the true day upon a completed world.\" However, from\nthe time that ocean becomes the ocean that we know it, he gives\ninnumerable facts regarding its tides, circulation, convulsions,\natmosphere, winds, and tempests. The living sea-weeds, the plant\nanimals, the fishes of the ocean and even the sea-birds, are not\nforgotten in this study of the mysteries of the ocean.\n\nThe relations of man to the ocean are also treated of--navigation,\nwhale and seal fishing, etc. Altogether the book is most interesting,\nis finely got up, and is fully illustrated with excellent engravings.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     ADVENTURES ON THE GREAT HUNTING GROUNDS OF THE WORLD. By Victor\n     Meunier. Illustrated with twenty-two wood-cuts. New York: Charles\n     Scribner & Co. 1869. 1 vol. 12mo, pp. 297.\n\nThis is another volume of the interesting series of _Library\nof Wonders_, the object of which is to present to the reader a\ncollection of well-authenticated facts illustrative of the nature,\nhabits, and various modes of capturing some of the largest and\nfiercest of the animal world, and to describe some of the numerous\nadventures, terrible fights, and hairbreadth escapes to which the\nhunting of the animals has given rise.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE DESERT WORLD. From the French of Arthur Mangin. Edited and\n     enlarged, by the translator of _The Bird_. With 160 illustrations.\n     London, Edinburgh, and New York: T. Nelson & Sons. 1869.\n\nThis is a companion book to the _Mysteries of the Ocean_, and the\nbest notice we can give this elegantly printed and illustrated volume\nis to let the author, in his preface, speak for himself:\n\n\"The area of our present work would be very limited if we understood\nthe word _desert_ in its more rigorous signification; for we should\nthen have only to consider those desolate wildernesses which an\ninclement sky and a fertile soil seem to exclude for ever from\nman's dominion. But by a license which usage authorizes, we are\nable to attribute to this term a much more extended sense; and to\ncall _deserts_ not only the sandy seas of Africa and Asia, the\nicy wastes of the poles, and the inaccessible crests of the great\nmountain-chain, but all the regions where man has not planted his\nregular communities or permanent abodes; where earth has never been\nappropriated, tilled, and subjected to cultivation; where nature\nhas maintained her inviolability against the encroachments of human\nindustry.\"\n\nThe author has made a most interesting and instructive work, one that\ncan be read with much interest and profit. His description of the\nmountain regions of the world is especially good.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     NEW YORK ILLUSTRATED. New York: D. Appleton & Co.\n\nA very good description of New York City. The illustrations of its\nchurches, public and other buildings, are well executed, and the\ndescription of each must prove a valuable assistance to strangers\nvisiting our city.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     AN HISTORICAL SKETCH OF THE ORDER OF ST. DOMINIC; OR, A MEMORIAL\n     TO THE FRENCH PEOPLE. By the Rev. Father Lacordaire. Member of the\n     same Order, of the French Institute, etc. New York: P. O'Shea, 27\n     Barclay Street. 1869.\n\nAll that was mortal of the great Lacordaire sleeps in the grave;\nbut men such as he are not born to die--they belong to all time;\ntheir spirit for ever lives and breathes in their works. His was\nthe eloquence that possesses the true trumpet ring that stirs men's\nsouls; even when read, it is powerful.\n\nThe work before us was first published in 1839. In a masterly manner\nit exposes the absurdity of liberty proscribing liberty; of giving\nlicense for all things save serving God in the most perfect manner,\nand according to the very _beau ideal_ of Christianity. Then, in a\nsummary and graphic manner, it sketches the history, and points out\nthe great names and the eminent services of one of the great bodies\nof the church militant--an order from whose ranks have been taken\nfour popes, seventy cardinals, archbishops by hundreds, and bishops\nby thousands; which has produced theologians, artists, and architects\nwho rank with the first; which has sent forth tens of thousands of\nmissionaries, who have preached the Gospel in every language under\nthe sun, and which has the glory of being able to point at the same\ntime to Aquinas, the Corypheus of theologians, and to Las Casas, the\nslave of the enslaved Indians.\n\nThis book is especially _\u00e0 propos_ at the present, when the dogs of\nthe press, after scouring the world through years of famine and lack\nof popish horrors, have just dropped the sorry bone picked up four\nthousand miles away in Cracow, hungrily passed from mouth to mouth,\nand found, alas! to be in reality without a vestige of consolatory\nmeat--dry bone, \"and nothing more.\"\n\nLet those who love \"fair play\" read this short defence of a religious\norder by the Bossuet of the nineteenth century.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE BOOK OF MOSES; OR, THE PENTATEUCH IN ITS AUTHORSHIP,\n     CREDIBILITY, AND CIVILIZATION. By Rev. W. Smith, Ph.D. For sale by\n     the Catholic Publication Society. (Second Notice.)\n\nAt the time of writing our first notice of the first volume of this\ngreat work, we had merely glanced at its contents, and were only able\nto give a first impression of its merit. Since that time we have read\nit carefully, and made use of it in giving a course of lectures to a\ntheological class. We deem it, therefore, due to the author and to\nthe interests of sacred science that we should express our deliberate\njudgment that it is a work of the highest erudition and merit.\nThe Mosaic authorship of the Pentateuch is proved by the learned\nauthor with all the cogency and conclusiveness of a complete moral\ndemonstration. Not only is it by far the best work on the subject in\nthe English language, but it is admitted by Dr. Reusch, the learned\neditor of the Bonn _Litteratur Blatt_, to be equal to the best of\nthe German treatises, and acknowledged by the _Katholik_ of Mayence\nto be superior to any of them. The latter periodical criticises Dr.\nSmith for the statement made by him that Moses imitated several\nthings in the Egyptian sacred rites in his ritual laws. The critic\nadmits the similarity between them, but asserts that Moses prescribed\nthese rites by divine revelation. We venture to suggest that this is\nan irrelevant remark. The inspiration of the Divine Spirit may have\ndirected him to imitate whatever was really excellent in Egyptian\ninstitutions, whether sacred or secular.\n\nWe hail this admirable work with the greatest joy, and await with\nanxious expectation the publication of the succeeding volumes. No\nprofessor of sacred science or student of the Holy Scriptures should\nbe without it. Neologians and irrationalists are being crushed by the\nvery science of criticism which they have so loudly vaunted as their\nown peculiar and irresistible engine of destruction for the overthrow\nof revelation. It is perhaps needless to add that Dr. Smith is a\nyoung, hitherto unknown priest of a small country mission in Wales.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     LANGE'S COMMENTARY ON ROMANS. New York: Charles Scribner & Co.\n\nThis is one volume of a commentary on the Old and New Testament,\nprepared by several learned Protestant divines of Germany, and\ntranslated by competent scholars into English. It is esteemed among\nthe orthodox Protestants as the ablest work of the kind which they\npossess. It is certainly far superior to the dull, old-fashioned\ncommentaries which were formerly used to produce compression of the\nbrain in their unfortunate readers. To a Catholic scholar the work\nmay be useful in so far as it throws the light of patient German\ninvestigation on critical and historical questions. Its exposition\nof doctrine is chiefly interesting as showing the views at present\nprevailing among the sounder portion of Protestants, which we may\nadd are a decided improvement on the original doctrines. In the\nvolume on Genesis we were surprised to see two ridiculous statements\ndictated by anti-Catholic bigotry, one that a pope condemned the\ndoctrine of the antipodes, the other that Cardinal Cullen denounced\nthe Copernican system. This is not creditable to a professor in Bonn\nUniversity.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     MORAL TALES. By Maria Edgeworth. With original designs by Darley.\n     A new edition. Baltimore: Kelly, Piet & Co. 1870.\n\n     POPULAR TALES. By Maria Edgeworth. With original designs by\n     Darley. A new edition. Baltimore: Kelly, Piet & Co. 1870.\n\n     THE PARENT'S ASSISTANT; OR, STORIES FOR CHILDREN. By Maria\n     Edgeworth. A new illustrated edition. Baltimore: Kelly, Piet & Co.\n     1870.\n\nThese are new editions of what were in their day among the best known\nand most popular of books. They deserve to become well known and\npopular again. When Miss Edgeworth, at the beginning of the present\ncentury, commenced her series of novels, the public, says one of\nher later critics, \"was surprised by novels which contained neither\nruinous towers, terrible subterranean cells, nor mysterious veils,\nand in which the characters were neither peers nor foundlings.\" The\nworks, too, were remarkable for their humane sympathies and their\nmoral tendencies, as well as for their disregard of the materials\nout of which it was then the fashion to construct romances. The same\nwriter mentions the fact that among the most ardent admirers of them\nwas Sir Walter Scott, who avows that it was her humorous, tender,\nand admirable delineations of Irish character which prompted him to\nattempt similar portraitures of his own country.\n\nWe trust that the publishers will continue the series thus begun, and\ngive us others of her numerous and excellent works.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     MINOR CHORDS. By Sophia May Eckley. London: Bell & Daldy. 1869.\n\nThe poems of Mrs. Eckley have received some very high encomiums from\nthe British press, more flattering though no truer than what we\nourselves are disposed to award them after a sufficiently careful\nperusal. They possess a pure, elevated tone, are deeply religious\nin sentiment, smooth in their rhythm, with here and there a rhyme a\ntrifle too mechanical, yet abounding in evidences of poetic genius.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     MANUAL OF THE THIRD ORDER OF ST. FRANCIS OF ASSISI, CALLED ALSO\n     THE ORDER OF PENANCE. 2 vols. London: Burns, Oates & Co. For sale\n     by the Catholic Publication Society.\n\nThis manual has been compiled in order to enable members of the Third\nOrder of St. Francis to follow the precepts and the spirit of their\nrule. They are, we believe, quite numerous in this country, and\nmany of them will be very glad, no doubt, to obtain this book, well\ncalculated as it is for their instruction and edification.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     CASEINE: being Rural Meditations. By Joseph Fitzgerald, A.M.\n     Cincinnati: John P. Walsh. 1869.\n\nTo those persons especially who have a leisure hour to while away in\nreading a pleasant, chatty book, we commend this volume with hearty\ngood-will. The first paper, \"Concerning Boys,\" abounds in sallies of\nwit, with a good deal of what we would call \"wholesome thought.\" The\nauthor need not have given us an apology for its publication, as he\ndoes in his preface; but we think the one he offers deserves more\nthan a favorable notice on account of its singularity. We reproduce\nit, therefore, in this place, hoping that many will purchase Father\nFitzgerald's little work, not only because of its intrinsic merits,\nbut with a view to thereby increase their own:\n\n     \"I must build a church for a poor and sparse congregation, and I\n     propose to get a portion of the necessary funds from the sale of\n     my book.... I do not rush into print because I judge that these,\n     my literary wares, of themselves and on their own merits, have any\n     valid claim to acceptance; nor because I suppose that I have any\n     thing novel or striking in point either of expression or matter to\n     offer. Far from me be such presumptuous thoughts! In sending forth\n     this little volume I do but, as it were, don my beggar's garb, and\n     take my stand in public places, which any beggar may do without\n     offence. It is by this view of the case alone that I justify my\n     cause, which else would surely require an ampler apology. This\n     consideration alone led me to address a circular to the reverend\n     clergy which, I doubt not, was by many regarded as the height of\n     impudence. Now, however, after this explanation, I hope I shall\n     be pardoned my intrusion, and aided in a good work, in spite of\n     my awkward presumption. I will say this, however, that I was\n     encouraged to try this means of collecting money for my church by\n     two considerations. The first was, the well-known generosity of\n     the clergy as patrons of books; and then the novelty of the thing,\n     which could hardly fail to get me some subscribers.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE FIRST CLASS BOOK OF HISTORY. Designed for pupils commencing\n     the study of history. With questions. Adapted to the use\n     of academies and schools. By M. J. Kerney, A.M., author of\n     _Compendium of Ancient and Modern History, Columbian Arithmetic_,\n     etc. etc. Twenty-third revised and enlarged edition. Enlarged by\n     the addition of Lessons in Ancient History. Baltimore: John Murphy\n     & Co. 1869. Pp. 396.\n\nIn this small volume we have an abridgment of the world's history,\nancient and modern, sacred and profane. Commencing with the creation,\nit brings its well-digested record of events down even to the\npresent day. We are positive that there has not been, and we are\nmorally certain that there never will be an abridgment of history\nsatisfactory to all. This being premised, we can safely assert that\nthis little book is, of its class, as nearly perfect as is possible.\nWhile as a text-book this work has deservedly enjoyed a very large\ncirculation in its previous editions, the present one has several\nadditional and weighty claims to general approval. We are told in the\npreface \"that the portion embracing sacred and ancient history has\nbeen, in a measure, rewritten. In modern history, the chapters on\nGreece and Switzerland, and portions of other chapters, are new, the\nwhole being brought down to the present time. Errors and inaccuracies\nof whatever kind have been carefully rectified. Superfluities have\nbeen retrenched, and facts equally important to be known as those\nalready stated, introduced.\" After a thorough and careful perusal of\nthe book, we can fully indorse the above, and give the publishers our\nbest wishes for its success, trusting with them that \"it will now\nfind its way into a still wider circle of institutions than those in\nwhich it has been heretofore known and appreciated.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE PATRIOT'S HISTORY OF IRELAND. By M. F. Cusack, author of _The\n     Illustrated History of Ireland_. New York: Catholic Publication\n     Society, 126 Nassau Street. 1869. Pp. 320.\n\nThis _History of Ireland_ has been written in order to comply with a\nvery generally expressed desire that the author of _The Illustrated\nHistory of Ireland_ would furnish a compendium of Irish history for\nthe use of schools, and for the benefit of those who have not time to\nread a larger work.\n\nThe good sister has, we need hardly say, well performed her task,\nand literally left nothing to be desired. The book is very neatly\ngot up, well illustrated, and sells at a low price. As the profits\nare entirely devoted to purposes of charity in Kenmare, Ireland, we\nearnestly hope for it an extended circulation.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     A TEXT-BOOK OF CHEMISTRY. A Modern and Systematic Explanation\n     of the Elementary Principles of the Science. Adapted to use in\n     high-schools and academies. By Leroy C. Cooley, A.M. New York:\n     Charles Scribner & Co. 1869.\n\nThis text-book lacks one important chapter, no attempt being made\nto explain the manner of preparing the necessary articles for\nsuccessful experiments. The fundamental principles are well presented\nand clearly explained, while the carefully arranged nomenclature\nis all that can be desired in an elementary work. The series of\nillustrations are excellent. The book will be found useful to all\nteachers who wish to give their pupils a general knowledge of\nchemistry.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     FREDERICK W. ROBERTSON'S SERMONS. Popular Edition. 2 vols. 12mo.\n     Boston: Fields, Osgood & Co. 1869.\n\nOf the literary merit of these sermons there can be no two opinions.\nIt is also undeniable that there is much to admire in the character\nof the man, and much that is true and valuable in his discourses.\nThere is too much of the poison of rationalism in them to make them\nprofitable or even safe reading for any except well-instructed\ntheologians. Clergymen will find them, however, valuable to\nthemselves as models of style and of the art of sermonizing,\nespecially in regard to the use to be made of the narratives of\nScripture history, and the application of religious doctrine to the\naffairs of human life. The portrait of the author presents him before\nus as a man of strikingly handsome and prepossessing physiognomy, and\naccords perfectly with the idea we have formed of his manly character.\n\n\n     NOTE.\n\n     THE LIFE OF FATHER FABER.--We have received from Mr. Murphy a\n     copy of this work, reviewed in our last number, printed on tinted\n     paper, and very handsomely bound. It is one of the most tastefully\n     and beautifully executed books which we have ever seen from the\n     press of any American publisher, and we take occasion with the\n     greatest pleasure to make this acknowledgment to Mr. Murphy of\n     the favor he has conferred on us and the Catholic public in\n     reproducing an edition of Father Bowden's excellent biography\n     which is worthy of the gifted and beloved subject. The portrait of\n     Father Faber is very fine, and adds much to the value of the book.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\nVOL. X., No. 58.--JANUARY, 1870.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FUTURE OF PROTESTANTISM AND CATHOLICITY.[100]\n\n\nThis work of serious and conscientious learning by the Abb\u00e9 Martin,\nformer cur\u00e9 of Ferney, noted as the residence of Voltaire when exiled\nfrom France, has been written mainly for the purpose of making\nknown to Catholics of the old Catholic nations of Europe the real\ncharacter and tendencies of contemporary Protestantism--a work not\nuncalled for, since those old Catholic populations, seldom coming\ninto personal contact with Protestants, have not kept themselves\nwell posted in the changes, developments, and transformations that\nProtestantism has undergone during the last two centuries, and\nare hardly able to recognize it in its present form, or to meet\nand combat it with success. The great controversial works of the\nseventeenth century, excellent as they were in their time, only\nimperfectly serve the present wants of Catholic polemics; for the\ndogmatic Protestantism they met and vanquished is, save in its\nspirit, not the Protestantism that now confronts the church. That\nprimitive phase of Protestantism has passed away, never to reappear,\nand a new and a very different phase has been developed, which\ndemands a new study and a new and different mode of treatment.\n\nThe learned Abb\u00e9 Martin, favorably situated for his task, during\nseveral years, at the gate of Geneva, the Protestant Rome, has\nembodied in his volume the result of much serious and conscientious\nlabor devoted to this new study, and has so well accomplished his\ntask as to leave nothing to be desired, till Protestantism undergoes\nanother metamorphosis, which it is not unlikely to do; for to assume\nnew forms or shapes according to the exigencies of time and place, is\nof its very essence. For this reason, the labor of refuting or even\nexplaining it can never be regarded as finished.\n\nIt is the characteristic of Protestantism to have no fixed and\npermanent character, except hatred of Catholicity. It has no\nprinciples, doctrines, or forms, which in order to be itself, it must\nalways and everywhere maintain. It may be biblical and dogmatic,\nsentimental or sceptical, combine with absolutism or with the\nrevolution, assert the divine right of kings and passive obedience\nwith the old Anglican divines, or shout, _\u00e0 bas les rois_, and _vive\nle peuple! vive libert\u00e9, \u00e9galit\u00e9, et fraternit\u00e9!_ with the old French\nJacobins and contemporary Mazzinians and Garibaldians, as it finds\nit necessary to carry on its unending warfare against the church,\nwithout any change in its nature or loss of identity. It is not a\nspecific error, but error in general, ready to assume any and every\nparticular form that circumstances require or render convenient.\nIt, like all error, stands on a movable and moving foundation; and\nto strike it we are obliged to strike not where it is, but where it\nwill be when our blow can reach it. The abb\u00e9 is well aware of this\nfact, and sees and feels the difficulty it creates. Hence he regards\nProtestantism as imperishable, and holds that our controversy with\nit must, under one form or another, continue as long as error or\nhostility to the church continues, which will be to the end of the\nworld.\n\nTo those of us who were brought up Protestants, who have known\nProtestantism in all its forms by our own experience, the Abb\u00e9 Martin\ntells little, perhaps nothing that had not previously in some form\npassed through our own minds, and not much that had not already been\npublished among us by our own Catholic writers. It is not easy to\ntell an American Catholic any thing new of Protestantism. There is no\ncountry in the world where Protestantism is or can be so well studied\nas our own; for in no other country has it had so free a field for\nits development and transformations, or in which to prove what it\nreally is and whither it goes. It has suffered here no restraint from\nconnection with the state, and till quite recently the church has\nbeen too feeble with us to exert any appreciable influence on its\ncourse. It has had in the religious order every thing its own way,\nhas followed its own internal law, and acted out its nature, without\nlet or hinderance. Here it may, therefore, be seen and studied in its\nreal character and essence.\n\nBut if the Abb\u00e9 Martin has not told us much that we did not already\nknow, or which American writers had not already published, he\nhas given us a true and full account of the present aspects and\ntendencies of Protestantism throughout Europe, very instructive to\nthose Catholics who have had no personal acquaintance with it, and\nnot unprofitable even to those who, though converts to the church,\nwere familiar with it only as seen in some one or two of the more\naristocratic sects, in which large portions of Catholic tradition\nhave been retained. We in fact wonder how a man who, like the abb\u00e9,\nhas had no personal experience of Protestantism, who has never had\nany internal struggle with it, and has been brought up from infancy\nin the bosom of the church and in the Catholic faith, can by study\nand observation, by prayer and meditation, make himself so fully\nmaster of its real character, and come so thoroughly to understand\nits spirit, its internal laws and tendencies. No doubt one who has\nbeen a Protestant, and knows thoroughly its language, can find in his\nwork proofs that Protestantism was not his mother tongue, and that he\nknows it only as he has learned it; but learned it he has, and knows\nit better than it is known by the most erudite and philosophical\nProtestant ministers themselves, and the Catholic reader may rely\nwith full confidence on his expositions. The work is, in fact, an\nadmirable supplement alike to Bossuet's _Variations_ and to Moehler's\n_Symbolik_.\n\nIt will startle some Catholics, no doubt, to hear the well-informed\nauthor assert, as he does, that Protestantism is not dead or dying,\nthat it is imperishable, its principle is immortal, and never was\nit a more formidable enemy to the church than it is at this present\nmoment; but they will be less startled when they learn what he means\nby Protestantism.\n\n     \"Protestantism,\" he says, \"differs essentially from all the\n     heresies that have previously rent the bosom of the church.\n     It is not a particular heresy, nor a union of heresies; it is\n     simply a frame for the reception of errors. Vinet, one of the\n     most distinguished Protestants of the day, softens, indeed, this\n     expression, and says that 'Protestantism is less a religion than\n     the place of a religion.' He would have been strictly exact,\n     if he had said Protestantism is less a religion than the place\n     of any negation of religion under a religious garb. It is a\n     circle capable of indefinite extension, of being enlarged as\n     occasion requires, so as to include any and every error within\n     its circumference. A new error rises on the horizon, the circle\n     extends further and takes it in. Its power of extension is limited\n     only by its last denial, and is therefore practically illimitable.\n     What it asserted in the beginning it was able to deny a century\n     later; what it maintained a century ago it can reject now; and\n     what it holds to-day it may discard to-morrow. It may deny\n     indefinitely, and still be Protestantism. It can modify, change,\n     metamorphose, turn and return itself without losing any thing\n     of its identity. Grub, caterpillar, chrysalis, butterfly, it is\n     transformed, but dies not.\" (Pp. 1, 2.)\n\nAll this is perfectly true. Protestantism undoubtedly differs\nessentially from all the particular heresies of former times, such\nas the Arian, Macedonian, Nestorian, Eutychian, Pelagian, etc.; but\nwe think it bears many marks of affinity with ancient Gnosticism,\nof which it is perhaps the historical continuation and development.\nGnosticism was not a particular or special heresy, denying a\nparticular article, dogma, or proposition of faith. The Gnostics\nheld themselves to be the enlightened Christians of their times, men\nwho had attained to perfect science, been initiated into the sacred\nmysteries concealed from the vulgar, professed to be spiritual men,\nspiritually illuminated, and looked down with contempt on Catholics\nas remaining in the outer court, sensuous and ignorant, knowing\nnothing of the Spirit. This is no bad description of contemporary\nProtestants. They call themselves the enlightened portion of mankind,\nclaim to be spiritual men, spiritually illumined and instructed\nin the profoundest mysteries of heaven and earth; while from the\nheight of their science they look down on us Catholics as simply\nsensuous men, having only a sensuous worship, and hold us to be a\ndegraded, ignorant, superstitious, and besotted race. We are very\nmuch disposed, for ourselves, to regard Protestantism as Gnosticism\nmodified to suit the taste, the temper, the mental habits, and the\ncapacity of modern times.\n\nThe author makes Protestantism not a special heresy, nor yet a union\nof heresies, but the receptacle of illimitable denials; yet he\nthroughout distinguishes it from absolute unbelief in Christianity,\nand maintains that even as so distinguished it is imperishable, and\nits principle immortal. We confess that we do not see how he can make\nthis distinction without giving to Protestantism a specific character\nand making it a positive heresy, and not simply a frame for the\nreception of heresy or heresies. Assuming it to be a positive heresy,\nand not the general spirit of error adapting itself to any and every\nform of error, his reasoning is far from satisfying us that it is\nimperishable. The assertion that \"its principle is immortal,\" can\nin no case be accepted; for all error must ultimately die, and only\ntruth survive, if our Lord is to overcome all his enemies, and God,\nwho is truth itself, is to be all in all. It is not to be supposed\nthat they who are eternally lost continue to err and to sin for ever.\nThey know and confess the truth at last, and it is their severest\nhell that they know and confess it when it is too late for it to\nliberate them. Understanding Protestantism to be the general spirit\nof error, we can concede it to be imperishable, in the sense that the\nworld is imperishable; for men will hate Christ and deny him as long\nas the world stands; but in no other sense are we prepared to concede\nit.\n\nThe author defines the essence of Protestantism to be hatred of\nthe church, and yet throughout his book distinguishes it from\nabsolute infidelity or unbelief. We do not see the propriety of this\ndistinction, nor understand how he can consistently exclude from\nProtestantism any form of error that hatred may assume. He makes\nProtestantism not a particular, a specific heresy, but the frame in\nwhich any negation of religion under a religious garb may be set.\nWe see no ground for this restriction, and it seems to us that it\ncontradicts his own assertion that Protestantism is a circle capable\nof indefinite extension, and practically illimitable; for if the\ncircle can include only the denials of religion that wear a religious\ngarb, it is not illimitable, or capable of indefinite extension.\n\nThe learned abb\u00e9, we suspect, has been led into this real or\napparent contradiction by neglecting to distinguish sharply between\nProtestants and Protestantism. Protestants are of all shades,\nfrom the Calvinist down to the unitarian or rationalist, from the\nhigh-churchman down to the no-churchman. The great majority of them\nretain some shreds of Christian belief, read the Bible, look to\nChrist as the redeemer of mankind, and are governed more or less in\ntheir opinions, sentiments, and conduct by Christian tradition. It\nwould be a great mistake as well as gross injustice to represent all\nor even many of them as actually or intentionally unbelievers in\nChrist, or to hold them to be, in the way of error, any thing more\nthan heretics. But Protestantism is not a form of heresy, is nothing\nin itself but hatred of Catholicity or hostility to the church of\nGod; and there are no lengths in the way of denial it will not go,\nif necessary for its gratification. It is potentially absolute\ninfidelity.\n\nThis seems to be in reality the abb\u00e9's own doctrine, and its truth\nis evident from the fact that the general tendency of Protestants is\nnot toward Catholicity, but farther and farther from it. Individuals\namong them, in certain times and places, even in large numbers,\nmanifest decided Catholic tendencies, and ultimately find their way\nback to the church; but whoever knows Protestants well, knows that\nthe mass of them, if driven by Catholic polemics to choose between\nthe church and the denial of Christianity, indeed, of all religion,\nwill not choose the church. \"If I can be saved only by becoming a\nCatholic, I do not wish to be saved,\" said a Protestant minister\nto us one day. \"I would rather be damned than be a Catholic.\"\nWe politely assured him he could have his choice. This minister\nexpressed only the too common sentiment of Protestants. A certain\nnumber among them, when convinced that Catholicity and Christianity\nare identical, will, the grace of God moving and assisting, become\nCatholics; but every day's experience shows that the larger number\nof them love Christianity less than they hate Catholicity, and will\nbecome infidels sooner than they will become Catholics. In doing so,\nare they illogical? Do they reject Protestantism, or simply follow\nout its spirit to its last logical consequences?\n\nThe learned abb\u00e9 restricts Protestantism to such negations as wear a\nreligious garb. But with us, in what is called Free Religion, we have\nseen infidelity itself wearing the garb and speaking the language\nof religion. In France there are the positivists, real atheists,\nwho clothe themselves with a religious vestment, adopt a ritual,\nand observe a regular worship. These, if the author insist on his\nrestriction, must be included within the Protestant circle, and if\nthese are included, it will be difficult to say what class of enemies\nof Christ and his church are to be excluded. We see no good reason,\ntherefore, for any restriction in the case. Protestantism is made\nup of negations, without any affirmation or positive truth of its\nown; and no reason can be assigned why we should not hold it capable\nof including within its circumference, without loss of identity or\nessential alteration, any or all errors against the Catholic Church,\nand if as yet only heretical with the many, why it is not capable in\nits developments of becoming downright apostasy or complete denial of\nChristianity.\n\nTaken in this sense, we admit that Protestantism is not dead, nor\ndying; but will continue to confront the church to the end of time.\nThe church in this world is always the church militant. She will\nalways have her enemies with whom she can never make peace so long as\nshe remains faithful to her Lord. \"Think not,\" said our Lord, \"that\nI am come to send peace on the earth; nay, a sword, rather.\" The\nsynagogue of Satan stands always over against the church of God, and\nthe world will always hate the church as it hated our Lord himself;\nfor she is not of the world as he was not of it. Yet we attach no\ngreat importance, if this be its meaning, to the proposition,\n\"Protestantism is imperishable,\" which the Abb\u00e9 Martin labors hard\nand at great length to sustain; for it is only saying in other words\nthat hatred to the church will continue till the consummation of the\nworld.\n\nBut if the proposition means that Protestantism under its original\nor even its present form, as held by the mass of Protestants, is\nimperishable, we can only say, nothing proves it to our satisfaction.\nThat the essence of Protestantism, which the author defines to be\nhatred of Catholicity, will continue as long as the world stands we\ndo not doubt; but nothing proves to us that it may not change its\nform in the future as it has done in the past, or that the great\nbody of Protestants may not gradually eliminate all that they have\nthus far retained of Christian tradition or Christian belief, reject\neven the Christian name, and lapse into pure Gentilism, as they are\nalready lapsing into carnal Judaism.\n\nThe abb\u00e9, while he is strictly correct when telling us what\nProtestantism is, that it is less a religion than the frame for the\nreception of all possible anti-Christian negations, yet seems in much\nof his reasoning with regard to its future to proceed as if he held\nProtestantism to be, not an immutable system indeed, but, after all,\nsomething definite and positive or affirmative. He knows as well as\nwe do, and abundantly proves in his book, that Protestantism affirms\nnothing, contains as peculiar to itself no affirmative proposition\nwhatever. The affirmative propositions held by Protestants are simply\nfragments of Catholic truth taught and held fast in their integrity\nby the church long ages before Luther and Calvin were born, and\nconstitute no part of Protestantism. The Protestantism is all in\nthe perversion, corruption, or denial of Catholic truth. There is\nnothing in it of its own but its negations and hatred of the church,\nher faith, her discipline, and her worship, to be continued, or that\ncan be the subject of any predicate. Protestantism receives into its\nbosom one form of error as readily as another, and complete unbelief\nas the inchoate apostasy called heresy, though we readily grant that\nthe majority of Protestants are not, as yet, prepared to accept\ninfidelity pure and simple; and many of them, we trust, are, in their\nintentions and dispositions, prepared to accept and obey the truth\nwhen made known to them, and may yet in God's gracious providence\nfind their way into the Catholic communion and be saved.\n\nThe Reformers, or the fathers of the modern Protestant movement,\ndid not intend to give up Christianity or the church. They thought\nthey could reject the papacy and the sacerdotal order, and still\nretain the Christian faith and the Christian church. But they were\nnot slow to discover that this was impracticable, and that, if they\ngave up the papacy and the sacerdotal order, they must give up the\nsacraments, save as unmeaning rites, infused grace, the merit of good\nworks, the church as a living organism, the whole Mediatorial work\nof Christ in our actual regeneration, and fall back on immediatism,\nand deny all living or present Mediator between God and man. Their\nsuccessors have found out that an irresistible logic carries them\nfarther still, and requires them to reject all creeds and dogmas as\nsuperfluous, to resolve faith into confidence, and to rely solely on\nthe immediate internal illumination and operations of the Holy Ghost.\nA new generation is beginning to discover that even this is too\nmuch, and is preparing to attribute to nature and the soul what its\npredecessors had attributed to the immediate supernatural operations\nof the Spirit. There is but one step farther, and you have reached\nthe goal, that of resolving God himself into the human soul, or the\nidentification of God with man and man with God, and not a few have\nalready taken it.\n\nProtestant experience has proved that the Catholic system is\nhomogeneous, self-consistent, all of a piece, so to speak; woven\nwithout seam, and not to be parted; that it must either be accepted\nor rejected as a whole. We do not say that all or the majority of\nProtestants see this; but many of them see it, and their vanguard\nloudly proclaim it, and declare the issue to be, Catholicity or\nrationalism, that is, naturalism. There is no middle ground tenable,\nto a logical mind with a courage equal to its logic, between the two.\nIt must be either the church or the world, Catholicity or naturalism,\nGod or atheism. We know great bodies move slow, and the great body\nof Protestants will not come to a full conviction of this to-day nor\nto-morrow; but they are tending to it, and can hardly fail, in the\nnatural course of things, one day to reach it. Having reached it, we\nthink the sincere and earnest Protestants, who love and study the\nBible and mean to be Christians, will be gathered into the Catholic\nfold, and the others most likely, other things remaining as they are,\nwill follow their Protestant spirit into naturalism, and give up\nChristian baptism and Christian faith altogether.\n\nThe author tells us that there are two very obvious tendencies among\nProtestants: the one a tendency to return to the church, and the\nother a tendency to rationalism and complete infidelity; but he\nthinks there will always remain in the non-Catholic body a certain\nnumber of honest, pious souls who shrink from unbelief, and yet,\nwhile they hold on to certain shreds of Christianity, will, from\nignorance, prejudice, and other causes, continue to protest against\nthe Catholic faith. He supposes that among Protestants there are\nlarge numbers of such persons, who really believe in Jesus Christ,\nwho really love his religion as far as they know it, who have\nreal Christian piety, and actually believe themselves to be true\nChristians in faith and practice. These, he contends, preserve to\nProtestantism a certain religious and Christian character, and will\nprevent it from ever lapsing into complete unbelief and irreligion.\nThey will always insist on some form of Christianity; and whatever\nthe form they adopt, it will be Protestantism. He may be right; but\nwe think, in discussing the future of Protestantism, he makes too\nmuch account of these pious persons; for if as well disposed as he\nassumes them to be, they can hardly fail, as time goes on and the\nreal character of the Reformation becomes more and more manifest, to\nfollow out their Christian tendency, and return to the communion of\nthe Catholic Church.\n\nLooking at the two tendencies among Protestants, studying them as\nthoroughly as we are able, and considering especially the essential\nnature of Protestantism, together with what we may call the logic\nof error--for error as well as truth has its logic--we think\nProtestantism as pretending to be Christian will, as we have said,\nfinally disappear, and prove itself practically, as it is logically,\nthe total rejection of the Christian religion, and therefore of\nChrist himself. In point of fact, Protestantism in its spirit and\nessence, as the author shows beyond contradiction, is only the\nrevival under a modern form of the great Gentile Apostasy that\nfollowed the building of the Tower of Babel, and must, if it run\nits course, lapse either into no-religion, as it has already done\nwith our modern scientists, or into demon-worship and gross idolatry\nand superstition, as it is actually doing with modern spiritists\nright under our eyes. We look, as we have already intimated, for a\nseparation of the wheat from the chaff, and believe the time will\ncome when the real issue will be made up, and the battle we must wage\nbe not with heresy, but with undisguised and unmitigated infidelity,\nrationalism, naturalism, or pure secularism.\n\nWe cannot give a complete analysis of the Abb\u00e9 Martin's work; for\nit is itself little else than an analysis. But an interesting and\nimportant portion of it is devoted to the Protestant revival and\npropaganda, beginning in the latter half of the last century, and\ncontinued so vigorously in the present. Protestantism, seeking from\nthe first the aid and protection of the princes, soon assumed in each\ncountry that adopted it the form and state of a national religious\nestablishment, defended and governed by the secular power. Having no\ntrue spiritual life within, and defended without and provided for by\nthe government, it fell, as soon as the religious wars occasioned\nby its origin had subsided, into a state of torpor, and the people\nunder it fell almost universally into a religious somnolence. The\nestablishment was sustained even with rigor, but personal religion\nwas generally unknown or disregarded. Some individuals, seeing this,\napplied themselves to awaken in the torpid masses a personal interest\nin religion. From them began a religious revival, or a movement in\nbehalf of personal religion, known in Germany as Pietism, in Great\nBritain and elsewhere as Methodism, which holds principally from\nJohn and Charles Wesley, George Whitefield, and Lady Huntington.\nThis revival, which has done much to increase individualism, and to\nweaken the influence of dogma and church principles, and which has\ndeveloped a species of evangelical illuminism resulting in a sort of\ninfidel illuminism, as seen in our American transcendentalists and\nfree religionists, has, upon the whole, the author thinks, injured\nmore than it has advanced Protestantism. Such, we are sure, has been\nthe fact in this country, unless we identify Protestantism with pure\nunbelief and indifference. Not one fourth of those assumed to be\n\"hopefully converted\" in revival seasons stay converted, while the\nbacksliders are worse Christians, and those who remain pious are no\nbetter Protestants, than they were before their conversion.\n\nThe revival has, however, given birth to a vigorous propaganda in\npagan and Catholic countries, and even in Protestant countries\nthemselves, by means of Bible societies, tract societies, home and\nforeign missionary societies, supported on a large scale and with\napparently inexhaustible means. The author discusses this Protestant\npropaganda in relation to infidel nations; to mixed nations, or\nnations composed of Protestants and Catholics; and finally to old\nCatholic nations. In infidel or pagan nations he maintains that\nit has thus far been null. He maintains also that in all those\nProtestant nations, or nations in which Protestantism became the\nestablished church, but in which some remnants of the old Catholic\npopulation still remained and adhered to the Catholic faith and\nworship, the propaganda has, upon the whole, proved a failure, and in\nnearly all of them Catholicity has gained, and is still gaining, on\nProtestantism. This, counting from the date of the institution of the\nProtestant foreign and home missions in the beginning of the present\ncentury, is certainly true in Great Britain and Ireland, in Holland,\nSwitzerland, especially in Sweden and Norway, and in this country;\nthough the principal gains in England, Scotland, and the United\nStates are due to the immigration of Catholics from countries under\nProtestant governments, or governments not friendly to the church. In\nthe United States we are almost wholly indebted for the astonishing\ngrowth of the church to the migration hither of Catholics from\nIreland and Germany. We have numerous conversions, indeed; but they\nform hardly an appreciable element in our entire Catholic population.\nIn the English-speaking world there have been many conversions from\nthe upper classes and from the ranks of the Protestant ministry,\nespecially of the Anglican and Protestant Episcopal communions;\nbut very little impression is as yet made on the middle and lower\nclasses, who must be converted before much progress is made in the\nconversion of a nation. We have certainly gained ground in Protestant\nnations, but probably not much more than we have lost in old Catholic\nnations.\n\nWhile the Protestant propaganda has failed with infidel or pagan\nnations, and with the Catholic populations of Protestant nations, the\nauthor maintains that, allied with rationalism and the revolution, it\nhas not been wholly unsuccessful in old Catholic nations, as France,\nItaly, Spain, Austria, and Hungary. It is, he maintains, \"worse than\nidle\" to pretend that Protestant missions in these nations are wholly\nbarren of results, or have met with only insignificant success. Their\nsuccess has been considerable, not perhaps in making Protestants, but\nin unmaking Catholics. Their missions are generally favored by the\npress, by the higher literature, and by the governments, which, even\nthough nominally Catholic, are always jealous of the church, and ever\nencroaching on her rights and restraining her freedom.\n\nThe success of the Protestant propaganda in these old Catholic\nnations, the author thinks, is due to the reputation Protestant\nnations have of surpassing Catholic nations in material well-being;\nof having founded civil and religious liberty; and chiefly to\nthe unpopularity of the clergy, the supineness of Catholics, and\nthe ignorance of the Catholic clergy of the real character of\ncontemporary Protestantism. All these causes no doubt are operative;\nbut the real cause, we apprehend, is to be sought in the ascendency\nacquired by the world in the fifteenth century, and which has invaded\nCatholic nations hardly less successfully than Protestant nations.\nProtestantism is the child of this ascendency, and its legitimate\ntendency is to place the world above heaven, and man above God; or\nthe complete supremacy of the secular over the spiritual.\n\nIn its origin Protestantism seemed to be an exaggerated\nsupernaturalism, denying to the natural all moral ability since the\nfall, and consequently assigning to the human will no active part\nin the work of justification or sanctification. But extremes meet;\nand the exaggerated supernaturalism in relation to the world to come\nproved to be only an exaggerated naturalism in relation to this\nworld. To deny all activity of the natural in the work of sanctity is\nonly emancipating the natural from the supernatural, from the moral\nlaw, and leaving it therefore free from all moral accountability, to\nfollow without restraint its own inclinations and tendencies; for\nwhat is incapable of meriting is necessarily incapable of sinning.\nAs the affections of the natural fasten on this world and the goods\nof this life, Protestantism soon lost practically all sense of the\ndivine, as it is now rapidly losing it theoretically, and turned the\nwhole activity of the nations that embraced it to the cultivation of\nthe material order and the acquisition of material goods, leaving\nthe spiritual order behind as a popish superstition, or an invention\nof priestcraft for enslaving the soul and restraining the natural\nfreedom of mankind.\n\nThe spirit that generated and operates in Protestantism, and which\nits doctrine of free or sovereign grace only fortifies, is, in fact,\nonly the old heathen spirit that seeks only the goods of this life,\nand so pointedly condemned by Christianity. It reverses the word\nof our Lord, \"Seek first the kingdom of God and his justice, and\nall these things shall be added unto you;\" and says, \"Seek first\nthese things--the goods of this life--and the kingdom of God and\nhis justice shall be added; if, indeed, such kingdom or justice\nthere be.\" This spirit was not originated by the Reformation. It had\npreceded it. It had originated the great Gentile Apostasy, and caused\nthe carnal Jews to misinterpret the prophecies and to expect in the\npromised Messiah a temporal prince instead of a spiritual redeemer\nand regenerator. It had even entered the garden and induced the fall\nof our first parents. It has always subsisted in the world; nay, is\nwhat St. Augustine called the City of the World as opposed to the\nCity of God, and which had its type and representative in the Roman\nrepublic and empire. It is the purely secular spirit emancipated from\nthe spiritual, and substituting itself for it.\n\nThis spirit is everywhere warred against by Christianity, therefore\nby Catholicity; and during the temporal calamities of the barbarous\nand middle ages was held in check by the church; but the advancement\nof political and social order, the progress of well-being, the\nrevival of pagan literature and art, the opening of new or long\ndisused routes of commerce, and the discovery, in the fifteenth\ncentury, of a new continent with its untold treasures, gave new force\nand activity to the pagan spirit, and enabled it to pervade and take\npossession of the governments, never very submissive to the church,\nof the emperor, of kings, princes, and nobles, and, in general,\nof the upper classes of European society. Christendom was well\nprepared at the opening of the sixteenth century for a revival of\nGentilism, which found able and magnificent supporters in the Medici\nof Florence, so dear to modern uncatholic scholars, but so fatal in\ntheir influence on Catholic interests.\n\nWith the revival of Gentilism or secularism there came the revival\nof the quarrel of pagan times between Germany and Rome; and Luther's\nmovement derived its chief strength from its appeal to the old German\nhatred of Roman domination, represented in the fifteenth century, it\nwas assumed, in part by the pope, and in part by the emperor, who\npretended to revive the old Roman empire and to succeed to the Roman\nC\u00e6sars of the West. The Germanic nations, never thoroughly Romanized,\nrebelled against the church, not because the secular spirit was more\nor less rampant with them than with the Romanic nations that remained\nCatholic, but because the centre of her authority was the old hated\ncity of Rome; and they looked upon her authority as Roman, and\nincompatible with their own national independence. Nothing is farther\nfrom the truth than to suppose that they were moved by a desire\nto emancipate the human mind from its pretended thraldom under\nthe pope, or to establish free inquiry and the liberty of private\njudgment; for they yielded from the first to the secular or national\nsovereign all the authority in spirituals which had been previously\nexercised by the Roman pontiff. Wherever Protestantism gained a\npolitical status, the two powers, as under paganism--unless we except\nGeneva, Scotland, and, subsequently, New England--were united in the\nsecular sovereign or the state. Calvin in Geneva, Knox in Scotland,\nand the Puritans in New England, though they sought to unite the\ntwo powers in the same governing body, sought to unite them in the\nhands of the church rather than of the state, in consequence of their\nmisinterpretation of the Hebrew commonwealth, which, in fact, gave us\nthe first example in history of the separation of the two powers, the\nsacerdotal and the secular, always asserted and insisted on by the\nCatholic Church.\n\nThe real character of the Protestant movement was a movement in\nbehalf of nationalism--the distinctive feature of Gentilism--revived\nby the insurgent worldly spirit. The church herself, in the\nnations that adhered to her, was defended against the so-called\nReformation, except by the theologians, not on Catholic principles,\nbut on national principles; and hence the secular authority sought\nconstantly to exercise a supervision over the church, and, as far\nas possible, to convert her into a national church. The so-called\nCatholic governments did not differ in principle from the Protestant\ngovernments, and have never done so since. They protected the church,\nto a certain extent, from recognized heresies, and provided for the\npomp and splendor of her worship; but restrained in every possible\nway her full freedom of action, and compelled her to yield to their\nrespective national policies in order to avoid a greater evil. The\nchurch could not fully instruct the people in any Catholic nation\nin the principles which should govern the relations of church and\nstate without incurring the persecution of her pretended protectors.\nHence, there grew up in all Catholic nations a false view of those\nrelations, which greatly weakened the church and aided the growth\nof the secular spirit. Catholicity, having been supported, not as\nCatholic but as a national religion, by Catholic governments and\ntheir courtiers, we find now, when the governments cease to defend it\neven as a national religion, and are more hostile than friendly to\nthe church, that the Catholic populations of old Catholic nations,\nnever allowed by the secular authority to be fully instructed in the\nsecular relations of their religion, and never accustomed to act\npersonally in the intellectual defence of their faith, incrusted\nover with the secularism encouraged by their governments, are almost\nuniversally unarmed and defenceless before the Protestant propaganda,\nhaving in its favor the prestige of the worldly power and supposed\nwell-being of Protestant nations, and of the championship of civil\nand religious liberty.\n\nHere, we apprehend, is the real secret of the success of Protestant\nmissions in old Catholic nations; not in the ignorance of the\nCatholic clergy of the real character of contemporary Protestantism,\nas the Abb\u00e9 Martin maintains. He shows, perhaps exaggerates, the\ndanger which the church runs in these old Catholic nations, and\nadmits that it is becoming apparent, if not to all, at least to many\nof the clergy, and asks,\n\n     \"How could it be otherwise with the French clergy, so learned, so\n     pious, so vigilant, and so zealous? They are preparing themselves\n     for the struggle; they proceed to the battle with the energy\n     of faith; they lack not ability; but they _lack a knowledge of\n     contemporary Protestantism_. If they would struggle with success,\n     if they would revive the glorious days of the Catholic apologetic\n     of the seventeenth century, or rather, if they would create a new\n     apologetic in harmony with the wants and errors of the times,\n     they must study Protestantism in its latest evolutions and in its\n     actual physiognomy.\" (Pp. 178, 179.)\n\nNo doubt there is more or less ignorance even among the French\nclergy as to the various phases and wiles of Protestantism, and\nwhich their text-books will hardly help them to dissipate; but what\nseems to us to stand most in their way is precisely their need of\nstudying Catholic theology more thoroughly in its relations to human\nreason and the secular order--a study they could hardly prosecute\nunder what are facetiously termed \"the Gallican liberties;\" that is,\nliberties of the government to enslave the church. No man who has\nlearned Catholic theology as catholic instead of national, who has\nlearned that the church represents on earth the spiritual order,\nand has the freedom and courage to maintain that the spiritual is\nsuperior to the temporal, is, in fact, the end for which the temporal\nexists, and therefore that which prescribes to the temporal its\nlaw, can ever be at a loss to understand or to know how to meet\nProtestantism the moment he sees it, whatever the particular phase\nit may exhibit. Protestantism is not and never was any thing but a\nseries of negations, and all the advantage it has ever had or ever\nwill have over Catholics is precisely in their ignorance of the real\nor intrinsic relation of the Catholic doctrine or doctrines it denies\nto the whole body of Catholic truth.\n\nProtestantism, the author himself sees, is simply revived paganism;\nbut what he does not see is, that the state in all European nations\nhas always been pagan, and never in its principle or constitution\nbeen truly Christian. Our own political constitution may be very\nimperfect, may be destined to a speedy end; but it is the first\nand only instance in history of a political constitution based on\nChristian principles; that is, on the recognition of the independence\nof religion and the supremacy of the spiritual order. It recognizes,\nin our modern phrase, the inalienable rights of man as its basis;\nbut what the American statesman calls the rights of man are, in\nreality, the rights of God, which every human authority must hold\nsacred and inviolable. We pretend not that the American people or\nAmerican statesmen fully understand or adhere practically to the\nAmerican constitution, or that they ever will till they become\nCatholics and understand, as comparatively few Catholics even now\ndo, the principles of their church in their political and social\napplications. Nevertheless, the constitution is based on the\nindependence and supremacy of the spiritual order, which the secular\norder must always and everywhere recognize, respect, and defend. This\nis in direct contradiction of the principle of the pagan republic,\nwhich asserts the independence and supremacy of the state alike in\ntemporals and spirituals.\n\nBut this pagan principle of the supremacy of the state has always\nbeen the basis of the European public law, and the church, though\nshe has always maintained the contrary, has always been held in the\ncivil jurisprudence to have only the rights accorded her by the civil\ngovernment. This has always been the doctrine alike of the Civil Law\nand the Common Law courts, always rigidly enforced by the French\nparliaments, and not seldom yielded by courtly prelates afraid, as in\nEngland, of the statute of _pr\u00e6munire_. There have been individual\nsovereigns who personally understood and yielded the church her\nrights; but their lawyers never recognized them save as grants or\nconcessions by the prince. Hence the interminable quarrel of the\nlegists and the canonists, and the sad spectacle of the bishops of\na nation not seldom deserting almost in a body the supreme pontiff\nin his deadly struggle with their civil tyrants in defence of their\nown rights, and the freedom and independence of the spiritual order.\nHence, too, we see Italian statesmen, while pretending to acknowledge\nand confirm religious liberty, confiscating the goods of the church,\nand prescribing in the name of the state the conditions on which the\nbishops of the church will be permitted to exercise their pastoral\nfunctions. Hence it is, also, that we have seen pious and devout\nCatholics defend the revolution and preach political atheism in one\nbreath, and the most rigid orthodoxy in another.\n\nWith all deference to M. l'Abb\u00e9 Martin, we must think that what is\nwanting in the Catholic populations of old Catholic countries in\norder to resist the Protestant propaganda, is not so much a better\nknowledge of Protestantism, as a more thorough knowledge of their\nown faith, and of Catholic principles themselves, in relation to\none another and to the secular order--a knowledge which has been\nhindered, and to a great extent prevented, by the paganism of the\nstate, which has disabled the church from freely and fully giving\nit. Happily, the European governments by ceasing to be protectors of\nthe church have in great measure lost the power, if not to afflict\nand persecute, at least to enslave her. The bishops, with only here\nand there an exception, no longer take the side of C\u00e6sar against\nPeter, and see that their interests and those of the church can be\nsaved only by the strictest union with and submission to the supreme\npastor, the vicar of Christ. The supreme pastor himself, without\nconsulting earthly potentates or conferring with flesh and blood, has\npronounced in his Encyclical and Syllabus, a rigorous judgment on\npolitical atheism and paganism in modern society, and set forth the\nCatholic principles in which the faithful need to be instructed in\norder to resist the Protestant propaganda, supported by rationalism\nand the revolution. He has asserted the independence and freedom of\nthe church in convoking by his own authority, almost in defiance\nof the secular powers, an oecumenical council, to be held in his\nown palace of the Vatican, in which the universal church, aided by\nthe Holy Ghost, will, we presume, deliberate and pronounce upon the\nerrors of the times, and indicate the means of arresting the evils\nthat now so grievously afflict society, both spiritual and secular.\nHereafter, we may hope, the faithful, cost what it may, will be more\nthoroughly instructed as to the relations of the two powers, and of\nfaith to reason and civil society, so that an end will be put to\nthe progress in Catholic nations of Protestantism, rationalism, and\npolitical atheism.\n\nThe Abb\u00e9 Martin succeeds better in describing Protestantism as it is,\nand in setting forth the danger it threatens, than in pointing out\nthe remedy to be applied by Catholics, or in assigning the causes of\nthe defects he finds or thinks he finds among them. He does not see\nthat these defects, in so far as general, are almost wholly due to\nthe pagan constitution of the state, which has survived the downfall\nof pagan Rome, and to the fact that the church has never yet in the\nOld World had her full freedom and independence, but has always been\nmore or less restrained in her action by the jealousy or hostility\nof the state. The lack of individual energy and self-reliance of\nCatholics in asserting and defending the rights of the church, which\nthe abb\u00e9 deplores, has its origin in the restraint imposed by the\ncivil authority on the freedom of the church.\n\n     \"Catholics,\" he says, \"relying on authority, full of confidence in\n     its unfailing promises, are quite ready to think that it is enough\n     for them to preserve the faith in their hearts, and to perform\n     its works, while the defence and preservation of the church\n     is the care of Providence. This sentiment, very commendable,\n     no doubt, is yet, when not joined to a masculine energy which\n     counts no sacrifices, if needed, in sustaining the work of God,\n     only an enervating sloth. Catholics--may I say it?--need the\n     activity of individual forces, not, indeed, of that excessive\n     individualism which, puffed up by pride, drives the Protestant\n     over the dark waves of doubt, but that Christian individualism\n     which, accepting by conviction the compass of authority, knows\n     how to employ all its personal forces in its service. This\n     individualism, Protestants reproach us with lacking; let us prove\n     to them the contrary, and show that individual action is quite\n     as powerful and far more productive, when it is well balanced,\n     measured, and subjected to wise rules, as when it wanders without\n     law or discipline, and acts only under the varying impulses of\n     free inquiry. It is, moreover, necessary to enter into this way;\n     for the time has come for Catholics to understand that they can\n     henceforth nowhere on earth count on any support but from God and\n     themselves.\" (Pp. 175, 176.)\n\nThe author adds that Catholics, not only nominal but even many\npractical Catholics, lack the individual energy that\n\n     \"springs from profound faith, the faith which goes to the marrow,\n     and enters even the centre of the soul, and radiates from it\n     in earnest convictions over all religious practices, over the\n     entire life, giving to them their true sense and to it the right\n     direction and end. Protestants accuse our church of materialism in\n     her worship....\n\n     \"The charge is false when applied to the church and her worship,\n     but is only too true when applied to her members. Hence the\n     painful inconsistencies in their conduct. They are Catholics in\n     the church, Catholics in essential religious practices, sometimes\n     even in works of supererogation, but are elsewhere and in other\n     matters hardly Christians. The _petit devotion_ is sterile; manly,\n     robust piety alone is productive, and it is it alone that we must\n     labor to diffuse. We should seek to make it enter into souls and\n     become fused with their very substance. Catholic worship is the\n     most admirable vehicle of the spirit of life; but souls must\n     comprehend it, and be instructed to draw the spirit of life from\n     it.\" (Pp. 176, 177.)\n\nThere is no doubt truth in this, and with but too many Catholics\ntheir religion is little more in practice than a lifeless form; but\nthis, so far as due to the clergy, is due rather to their want of\nearnestness and zeal, which the author says they do not lack, than\nto their ignorance of contemporary Protestantism. We pay little\nheed to the reproaches of Protestants, more likely to mislead than\nto instruct Catholics; but we are quite willing to concede that in\nold Catholic nations there may be a want among Catholics of the\nsort of individual energy defined and demanded by the author; but,\nin the first place, we are disposed to think that his long study of\nProtestantism, which is based on individualism, and his observation\nof the part played by what Protestants call personal religion, have\nled him to overrate the importance of this outward individual zeal\nand energy in the church; and in the second place, he seems not to\nhave sufficiently considered that they can hardly be looked for in\na community accustomed for ages to rely on the civil power to look\nout for the defence of the church, and for her protection against\nheretics and heresies. In such communities the free action of the\nchurch has been crippled by the attempt of the state to do her work\nand only bungling it, and in which no call for personal effort\nin preserving and defending the church externally has been made\non Catholics as individuals. The evil results naturally from the\ncondition in which Catholics must be found when abandoned by the\ngovernment that had hitherto saved them from all necessity of any\npersonal activity in their own defence against external enemies. It\ncan be only temporary, if the church is left henceforth free by the\ngovernment to appeal to the individual faith, love, and exertions of\nthe faithful under her direction.\n\nThere is, no doubt, much tepidity, formalism, and momentary\nimbecility in the face of the enemy in old Catholic populations;\nfor not the just nor the elect only are members of the church;\nbut abandoned or opposed as the church now is by the governments,\nand thrown back as she is everywhere upon her own resources as a\nspiritual kingdom, forced to be even in old Catholic nations once\nmore a missionary church in every thing except in outward form, and\nobliged to appeal directly to the faithful individually, there can\nhardly fail to be developed in Catholics the personal qualities which\nthe author thinks they do not now possess. The need of a robust and\nmanly piety to struggle with the world and the enemies of the church\nwill very soon call it forth, where religion is free and faith is not\nextinct.\n\nWe cannot but think, if the author had experienced the vexations\nand annoyances that we have from the personal and individual zeal\nand activity of Protestants of the revival stamp, each one of\nwhom acts as if he were an Atlas and bore the whole weight of the\nreligious world on his individual shoulders, he would much prefer\nits absence among Catholics to its presence. Not more troublesome\nwere the frogs of Egypt, that came up into the kneading-troughs and\nthe sleeping-chambers. It is not easy to describe the sensation of\nrelief a convert from Protestantism feels on coming into the church\nand learning that he has now a religion that can sustain him instead\nof needing him to sustain it. With Protestants, the member bears the\nsect; with Catholics, the church bears the member. The sacraments are\neffective _ex opere operato_. We are disposed, moreover, to believe\nthat Catholics best serve the Catholic cause by each one's doing in\nhis own sphere his own allotted work. The unity of faith, and the\nunity of the spirit that works alike in all the faithful to will and\nto do, are sufficient to secure unity of action, and action to one\nand the same end, and to effect with marvellous rapidity the grandest\nand most magnificent results. This, we think, is the Catholic method,\nquiet, peaceable, orderly, and, if less showy and striking than\nthe Protestant method, less noisy and prosy, far more fruitful in\nresults. The Catholic is sustained, the Protestant must sustain.\n\nFor our part, we are grateful to the author for his masterly\nexposition of contemporary Protestantism; but we hope we may be\npermitted to say that, while we do not deny the danger with which\nit threatens the populations of old Catholic nations, we think he\nexaggerates it, and supposes Protestant negations are more powerful\nthan they really are. It may be that the Catholic populations are not\nat present very well prepared to withstand the Protestant propaganda,\nallied as it is with rationalism and the revolution; but they cannot\nlong remain unprepared. The revolution having, wherever attempted,\nresulted in the loss of old liberties without the acquisition of\nany additional civil freedom, must gradually lose its credit with\nthe people, who must ere long be disillusioned; rationalism is\ntoo cold, too absurd, and too destitute of life to hold them in\npermanent subjection. Scientists and sciolists may adhere to it while\nits novelty lasts, but both the reason and instincts of the people\nreject it, and demand faith, religion. Protestantism severed from\nthe revolution and rationalism is too much what the great Catholic\ncontroversialists met in the seventeenth century and vanquished for\nits revival to be able to gain and hold much new territory.\n\nThe real danger, in our judgment, is in the spread of secularism\nor the secular spirit among Catholics themselves. This is the only\nserious obstacle we see to the conversion of the American people\nto the church. Catholics here and elsewhere conform to modern\ncivilization, and are carried away by its spirit. They follow the\nspirit of the age without knowing it; and though a Catholic may\naccept without scruple all the positive results of what is called\nmodern civilization, he cannot imbibe and follow its spirit without\ngreat loss on the side of religion, which requires the renunciation\nof the world as the end for which one is to live and to labor. But\nthere are even among Catholics very worthy men, men of excellent\nparts and rare learning, who virtually subordinate the spiritual to\nthe secular. They have so far yielded to the secular spirit of the\nday as to place the defence of the church on secular rather than\non spiritual grounds, and defend her claims as the church of God\nrather as necessary to secure civil liberty and advanced civilization\nthan as necessary to save the soul and secure the beatitude of\nheaven. They are, in some degree, affected by the philanthropy\nor humanitarianism of the age, and occasionally confound it with\nChristian charity, which loves God supremely, and our neighbor as\nourselves in God, or for the sake of God.\n\nThese men pursue a line of argument that draws off the Catholic\nmind from the kingdom of God and his justice, and fixes it on those\nthings after which the heathen seek, secularize it, and lead it to\nthink that our Lord's mission had for its object the multiplication\nof earthly goods and securing earthly felicity. They unintentionally\nplay into the hands of radicals and revolutionists, by influencing\nCatholics to strive after social instead of spiritual progress, and\nmaking them feel that the great work for the church is less to train\nmen for heaven than to make the earth a more pleasant abode for them;\nor that the proper way for men to work out their salvation hereafter\nis to work earnestly and perseveringly for the progress of civil and\npolitical liberty, and the reform of political and social abuses.\nIt can hardly have any but a bad influence on the Catholic mind to\nfind prominent Catholics urging their Catholic fellow-citizens to\nmake common cause with the most notorious and irreligious infidel and\nradical leaders of the revolution, as if there could be any thing\nin common between Catholics and men who demand liberty only to\nemancipate themselves from the divine law and to suppress the church,\nor at least to restrain her freedom.\n\nBut we are forgetting our author. Of the three causes he assigns\nfor the partial success in old Catholic nations of Protestant\nmissions, we have considered only the third and last--the alleged\nignorance of the clergy of contemporary Protestantism, the supineness\nof Catholics, and their lack of individual zeal, energy, and\nself-reliance. We have ventured to differ in some respects with\nregard to this alleged cause from the eminent author, and to take a\ndeeper and a broader view of the real cause of Protestant success.\nWe have traced it to the ascendency of the worldly spirit which has\ngiven birth to Protestantism itself, and, even in Catholic countries,\ndeprived the church of her rightful freedom of action. We see the\ncause in the false relations of church and state that have hitherto\nsubsisted in Christian nations, in the oppression and restraint of\nthe church by the state. The other two causes, the impression that\nProtestant nations surpass Catholic nations in material wealth and\nwell-being, and that Protestantism has founded and sustains civil and\nreligious liberty, we must reluctantly reserve for a future article.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[100] _De l'Avenir du Protestantisme et du Catholicisme._ Par M.\nl'Abb\u00e9 Martin. Paris: Tobra et Haton. 1869. 8vo. pp. 608.\n\n\n\n\nHURSTON HALL.\n\n\nThe great avenue of Hurston was all aglow with the golden sunset.\nStray beams trembled among the shadows of the massive oaks, bathed\nthe stone terrace in a flood of crimson radiance, and lingered\nlovingly among the quaint parterres, where all day long they had\ngiven life and beauty to the flowers. The \"parting smile of day\"\nillumined lawn and garden, mellowed the rugged outlines of the\nancient hall, and threw over its gloomy grandeur a golden mist that\nseemed to spiritualize it.\n\nBut more brightly and lovingly than elsewhere it rested on the fair\nbrow and golden curls of young Lord Hurston, as, reclining on his\ncouch with his face turned to the sunset, he watched with boyish\ndelight the beauty of the scene.\n\n\"Close the book, Aunt Caddy,\" he said, turning to a pale, graceful\nlady, who, seated on an ottoman beside him, had been reading to the\nyoung invalid the most beautiful of the great poet's _Idylls_. \"Close\nthe book; for you are tired, and I want you to look at the sunset\nand talk to me. Isn't it beautiful? See that great oak at the bend\nof the avenue! Every leaf seems woven with gold. I wonder if that\nlittle squirrel has his nest among the roots yet. What a pile of nuts\nI found there long ago, before I was sick! I wonder if I will ever be\nwell enough to hunt squirrels again?\" And the little speaker sighed\nas he turned restlessly on his couch.\n\n\"I hope so, darling,\" Aunt Caddy replied fondly. \"But we must be\npatient, you know.\"\n\n\"Yes, I know. But it is hard sometimes--only sometimes--Aunt Caddy;\nfor boys are not like girls; _they_ might lie still and not care so\nmuch. But when Lady Rayburn and Percy and George were here, and I\nsaw how the boys could climb and ride and jump; and when I had Floy\nbrought out from the stable for them and I heard her call me just as\nshe used when I could ride--I wouldn't tell any one but you--but O\nAunt Caddy! I cried when I was all by myself--cried like a great baby\ngirl.\"\n\nAunt Caddy's eyes were bright with tears of pity.\n\n\"My poor pet! was it so hard for you? Then grandmamma will not ask\nthem here again.\"\n\n\"No, no! dear auntie; that would never do. I am not such a coward\nas to mind feeling badly; and then, I would bear it better next\ntime. No, no! Hurston Hall must be open to every one, as it was in\ngrandpapa's time, as it would be if papa had lived, even though its\nlord is only a sick boy who can but lie on his cushions and let his\nguests amuse themselves as they please. Only I wish I were as good\nand patient as you would be in my place. You are just like Elaine. If\nyou were grieved or sorrowful, no one would ever know it. You would\nonly grow pale and quiet and silent, until some morning you would\nfloat away from us over the dark waters with the story of your sorrow\nfolded over your still heart.\"\n\nThe crimson glow of sunset seemed to flush Aunt Caddy's cheek as she\nbent to kiss the pale, little, earnest face.\n\n\"You are a poet yourself, Arthur. Who knows but that you may prove a\nsecond Sir Philip Sidney. We have had so many bold barons of Hurston\nthat Sir Arthur may well afford to win gentler fame and more peaceful\nlaurels.\"\n\nThe boy was silent for a moment; then replied with touching\nseriousness,\n\n\"Auntie, dear, you are all kind and loving to me; but you try to\ndeceive me. I saw Doctor Woodley's face when he sounded my lungs the\nother day, and I know what it meant. Poor papa did not live to be\ntwenty-four; and I--I was reading a book the other day, and I saw in\nit the sentence, 'Born to die.' It seemed as if it were written for\nme--born to die, not to live and win laurels, Aunt Caddy.\"\n\n\"My darling, you must not talk so! Think of poor grandmamma, think of\nus all if we should lose you. You are only twelve, and youth can hope\nfor every thing.\"\n\nBut even as she spoke a flood of memories welled up from her heart;\nsweet yet mournful voices of the past, whispering sadly of _her_\nyouth--its vanished hopes, its faded dreams. The sunset radiance had\npaled now, and dim shadows were gathering over the rosy, western\nhorizon as Aunt Caddy thought of her life, with its early sunset, its\nshadowy twilight, that would be so cheerless did not the starry gleam\nof other worlds sometimes pierce the gloom.\n\nBut Arthur's voice aroused her from her reverie.\n\n\"I don't think it seems so dreadful now to die, Aunt Caddy. When\nI was well and strong, it seemed so; and I used almost to shiver\nwhen I passed the tomb where poor papa and mamma lie side by side,\nbeneath the painted window in the chancel. It seemed so hard that\nhe should not live long enough to bear the title. But now I\nsometimes lie awake at night and think how strange it will look to\nsee beside grandpapa's monument that tells how very, very old he\nwas, another with a broken column, or something like that, and the\ninscription, _Arthur, seventeenth baron of Hurston, aged twelve_, or\n_thirteen_--not any more I think, auntie.\"\n\n\"My darling, my darling, these morbid fancies grieve me sadly.\"\n\n\"I don't want to grieve you, Aunt Caddy; but why should we fear\nto talk of what must be? I will leave you here in my place--you\nand grandmamma. You will be the lady of the hall, and help the\npoor people around, and keep the old place from getting ruined and\ndesolate; and make Johnson spare those oaks that he wanted to cut\ndown; grandpapa's oaks must not be touched. O Aunt Caddy! you will\nalways stay at Hurston, even when I am gone, won't you?\" And the\nearnest eyes pleaded eloquently.\n\n\"Your Uncle Charles would be the owner of Hurston, my darling,\" was\nthe low reply. \"He would live here or send some one in his place.\nGrandmamma and I would have a right here no longer. So you must get\nwell and strong, if you want to keep us at Hurston,\" she added with\nan attempt at playfulness.\n\n\"My Uncle Charles!\" said the young lord in amazement. \"Why must he\ncome here? Where is he now? Why should he be owner of Hurston?\"\n\n\"He is next heir--your father's younger brother; he has been with his\nregiment in Canada for a great many years,\" she replied hurriedly.\n\"But do not let us talk of sad fancies any longer. You will be strong\nas Cousin Percy in the spring, and will ride Floy as gayly as ever.\"\n\n\"But I want to hear about my Uncle Charles,\" said Arthur eagerly.\n\"Did I ever see him?\"\n\n\"When you were a little baby, perhaps. He has been in America ten\nyears.\"\n\n\"Did _you_ ever see him, Aunt Caddy?\"\n\n\"Very often, dear,\" was the low reply.\n\n\"But why does he not come to England? Why did not grandpapa hear from\nhim?\" continued the eager little questioner.\n\n\"My dearest, you are too young to weary yourself with others'\ntroubles. Your grandfather and his younger son parted in anger. They\nwere both proud and passionate, and neither would forgive or yield;\nand now death has come between them,\" Aunt Caddy said sadly.\n\n\"And would he come to Hurston if I should die?\"\n\n\"I scarcely think so, dear; he has few pleasant memories connected\nwith it.\"\n\n\"Then you would stay, dear auntie?\"\n\n\"No, dearest, I could not,\" she replied with deepening color. \"When\nmy sister wrote to your grandma and to me that she was dying, and we\nmust take her place to her orphaned boy; when your grandfather, old\nLord Hurston, placed you in my arms, then Hurston Hall became our\nhome; but when Colonel Charles Thornbury is its master, it ceases to\nbe so.\"\n\n\"How old is my uncle, Aunt Caddy?\"\n\n\"Thirty-one, I think, Arthur.\"\n\n\"Thirty-one,\" was the thoughtful reply. \"And he will be Lord Hurston\nwhen I die. I wish I knew him, Aunt Caddy. Do you think he would come\nto England if you wrote him? You knew him, auntie. I want to see him;\nI want to ask him not to leave Hurston to ruin and desolation; I\nwant to ask him to let you stay and take care of the dear old place\nthat grandpa was so proud of. I want to ask him not to let Johnson\ncut down the oaks that he wanted to thin out last fall. Dear, dear\nAunt Caddy, won't you write for me?\" pleaded the earnest little\nspeaker.\n\n\"My darling Arthur,\" she replied with a deepening blush that\nfreshened her pale face wonderfully, \"I cannot. It--it--would be\nimpossible.\"\n\n\"But _why_, Aunt Caddy?\" continued the persevering boy. \"Is he so\nvery bad, so wicked, that you never speak? Is my uncle a bad man,\nAunt Caddy? Has he\"--and the boy's cheek flushed with the pride of\nhis noble race--\"has he disgraced us in any way?\"\n\n\"My dear Arthur,\" was the hurried response, \"oh! no; a thousand times\nno! Your uncle was proud, passionate, headstrong; but he was--he is,\nI am sure, all that is noble, brave, generous; and, Arthur, he loved\nyour father as fondly as brothers could love.\"\n\n\"But why did he go away? Why do we not hear from him?\"\n\n\"My darling,\" the words came reluctantly, \"your grandpapa--in short,\nthey had some disagreement when your uncle came of age about--about\na marriage that the old lord had set his heart upon. But your uncle\nwas unwilling; that is--the lady was rich, and he feared he would\nbe thought mercenary--and--and--we must speak reverently of the\ndead, dear Arthur,\" and she bent to kiss his pale, pure brow; \"but\nyour uncle was not to blame. Let us talk no more about it now. See,\nthe moon is rising. Look how large and beautiful it is! Have you no\nsonnet for such a scene, my gentle troubadour?\"\n\nBut Arthur was not to be deceived. Spite of the gathering twilight,\nhe could see the large tears brimming Aunt Caddy's still beautiful\neyes; could hear the tremor in her playful tone; could feel, boy as\nhe was, that some chord had been touched that thrilled with saddening\nmemories.\n\nThe boy baron almost idolized the fair, gentle aunt who had replaced\nto him the mother he had never known, and it was with a remorseful\nsympathy that he flung his arms around her neck, kissed her flushed\ncheek, and whispered fondly, \"Your tiresome little troubadour knows\nbut one, and that is for you alone, dear auntie--_Je t'aime, je\nt'aime_; yes, more than any one in the world, dear Aunt Caddy.\"\n\nHe was not prepared for the long, low sob that shook her slight frame\nas she replied, in trembling accents,\n\n\"I believe you, my darling, my own Arthur; the one sunbeam of a\ncheerless--but never let us talk again as we have done to-night.\"\n\nSo Arthur was silent; but with a strange, precocious wisdom he\n\"pondered these things in his heart.\"\n\nAnd the result was that a letter, indited in a clear, boyish hand,\nsped like a white-winged messenger of peace across the broad\nAtlantic, bearing the address of Colonel Charles Thornbury, --th\nDragoons.\n\nAnd months after that twilight talk, when the leaves of Hurston Park\nfell in showers of crimson and gold on the broad avenue, when the\nlast roses breathed their sweet farewells around Arthur's latticed\nwindow, and the autumn winds began to sigh through the leafless\nvines, far away beneath the clear blue sky of another hemisphere a\nbronzed, bearded man read those frank, boyish words of welcome that\nbore the proud seal of his ancient race, and, with a tear and a\nsmile, whispered a blessing on \"_Arthur's boy_.\"\n\nChristmas snow lay white and pure on the fields and groves of\nHurston, and Christmas moonlight fell like a benediction on the\nspotless earth. The old hall stood boldly out with every rugged\noutline clearly defined against the frosty winter sky. A strange,\nirregular old pile, with little architectural symmetry; for it\nhad grown with the fortunes of the race that had ruled there for\ngenerations, dating its foundation far back in the mist of centuries\nbefore England bent to Norman William's sceptre. Tradition pointed\nto the grove where the mistletoe was culled with many a sacred rite;\nto the tower where the fair bride waited and watched in vain for her\nlord, who lay cold and stiff on the lost battle plain of Hastings;\nto the gate whence issued the stout Baron of Hurston, stern in his\ndemand for right, to the rendezvous at Runnymede. The long, low\nbuilding stretching into the shadows of the grove was said to have\nbeen built by Ethwold the Saxon, when, weary of the toils of war, he\nretired into the quiet \"Hurst,\" beneath whose leafy shelter his race\ngrew and flourished for generations.\n\nRemnants of fearful tales still were heard around the cottage\nfires--tales of awful orgies held by the fierce Saxon, and of\ninvocations of Woden and Thor, and rude banquets when the wild chant\nof the bard and the pledge of Waeshael echoed through the ancient\nHurst. It was even whispered that these fierce, unbaptized spirits\nstill lingered around their earthly haunts, watching the fortunes of\ntheir race and guarding it from extinction.\n\nBut the young Baron of Hurston resting in his dainty sick-chamber,\nsurrounded by all that wealth and affection could bestow, yet feeling\nwith a strange, peaceful resignation that his young life was fast\nebbing away, bestowed little thought on the name and fame of the\nproud ancestors that had ruled Hurston before him.\n\n\"I can do nothing, Aunt Caddy,\" he said with gentle sadness; \"nothing\ngreat, noble, glorious; I am only a sick, helpless boy. But for the\nlittle while I am with them, I would like my people to be happy. I\nwould like every heart to be light and free that I can render so. I\nwill never live to add any thing to the lustre of the old name, never\nwin fame or laurels in camp or court. Only I would like, when I am\ngone, to have it said that Sir Arthur, their boy-lord's rule was a\nlight and happy one. So don't let me hear any more of unpaid rents,\nJohnson,\" he would add, smiling merrily at the faithful steward.\n\"What do I want with poor Farmer Cropper's few guineas? Let my heir\nattend to all such matters, if he will; no one must be troubled while\nI can prevent it.\"\n\nThey had learned ere this not to be astonished at these strange,\nunchild-like speeches, and all tried to carry out their young lord's\nwishes with almost worshipping fondness and devotion.\n\nSo it happened that this Christmas the old Saxon hall was decked\ngayly with holly and ivy; mistletoe boughs hung temptingly from the\ndark old rafters, and the oaken floor was polished till it shone\nagain.\n\nSir Arthur had determined that the servants' ball this year should\nbe an unprecedented success; and he himself--\"blessings on his sweet\nyoung face,\" as the good old housekeeper said when she announced the\ngreat event--was \"to be present in person.\"\n\nScores of wax lights winked merrily between the heavy wreaths of ivy,\nand a yule log, parent of a hundred oaks, blazed like a royal bonfire\non the spacious hearth.\n\nAlready the old fiddler, blind of one eye, and the old harpist,\nlame of one leg--a pair of musicians whom Sir Arthur patronized\nextensively, had taken their places; already many a bright eye\nand nimble foot danced expectant, and many a rosy cheek flushed\ndeeper with anticipated pleasure. Stately Lady Nesbitt, Arthur's\ngrandmother, was there, smiling benignantly; Aunt Caddy--or the\n\"sweet Lady Caroline,\" as some of her devoted pensioners called\nher--with her Madonna face, waving hair, and soft silvery robe,\nlooking like some gentle moonlight spirit; and Arthur, his fair cheek\nflushed--ah! too brightly--his golden ringlets, soft as a maiden's,\nclustering on his pale white brow, his clear blue eyes radiant with\npleasure, sat looking on, the happiest baron of Hurston that ever\nreigned in that grim abode.\n\nOld Johnson, the steward and master of ceremonies, alone was wanting;\nand the impatient dancers began to grow restless awaiting his signal\nto open the ball. \"Where _can_ Johnson be?\" questioned Arthur for\nthe twentieth time; when the door suddenly burst open, and Johnson\nappeared, not a vestige of color in his usually ruddy face, and every\nwhite hair on his aged crown bristling with terror.\n\n\"Great heavens!--I beg pardon, my lord and ladies,\" panted the old\nman breathlessly. \"But I've seen him at last! The Lord forgive me!\nI'll never doubt that there be spirits return again. I saw him with\nthese very eyes--the master, old Sir Ralph himself. O my poor blessed\nlamb! I beg pardon, my lord--Sir Arthur, I mean. I hope this portends\nnothing awful.\" And the faithful old servitor wiped the great beads\nof moisture from his brow.\n\n\"What _do_ you mean, Johnson? What has terrified you?\" asked Lady\nNesbitt, calming in her stately way the excited group that had\ngathered around her.\n\n\"This, madam--simply this, my lady,\" replied the terrified old man.\n\"I was in the chapel, putting the last wreath on Lady Edith's, my\nyoung lord's blessed mother's tomb, when I felt a sort of cold chill\ncreep over me, and says I to myself, 'It's only the dampness'--for I\nhave the rheumatics occasionally, as my Lady Caroline well knows. So\nsays I, 'It's only the dampness;' for I never believed the stories\nthe country folk tell about the barons of Hurston leaving their holy\ngraves to walk on earth again. And so I was walking slowly out, when\nI heard a sort of groan, and I turned, and, O my lord and ladies!\nsure as the Lord sees me here, I saw old Sir Ralph, our young lord's\ngrandfather, standing beside his own tomb, with his head bent down\nand his arms folded, as I've seen him over and over again in life. O\nmy dear young lord! I couldn't be mistaken; it's he himself and no\nother. I could take my Bible oath to his back and legs; begging your\npardon, ladies, I could indeed.\" And poor Johnson paused for breath.\n\nIt was Arthur's clear tone that broke the silence. \"If it be my\ngrandfather,\" he said with that reverence that pure young minds\nfeel for the unseen, \"it is my place to go and speak to him; he has\nreturned from the other world for some good purpose, and I will speak\nto him.\"\n\n\"O my blessed lamb!--my dear young lord, I mean,\" cried poor Johnson\nin a fresh fit of terror; \"don't, for heaven's sake; don't go near\nhim! I am only afraid,\" and the faithful old man fairly sobbed, \"it\nis to take you away that he has come.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" and though the boy's cheek grew pale, his voice was firm, \"it\nis my place to go. Aunt Caddy,\" he whispered, \"he died, you know,\nwithout having forgiven my uncle.\"\n\n\"Arthur, my dear, this is nonsense!\" began Lady Nesbitt nervously.\n\n\"Grandmamma, I must go,\" was the firm reply.\n\n\"Come then, Arthur,\" said Lady Caroline in a low voice; \"for it is my\nplace as well as yours, to hear the message of peace and forgiveness.\"\n\n\"My lord, my lord!\" pleaded the terrified servants. But he had gone.\nWith his little, thin hand clasped in Aunt Caddy's, he ascended the\nwinding stone staircase that led to the chapel.\n\nThe lords of Hurston had adhered through poverty, change, and\npersecution to the ancient faith, and worshipped for centuries\nbeneath their own roof.\n\nThe chapel of Hurston was rich with quaint carving and medi\u00e6val\nornament. Six graceful columns supported the Gothic roof, each\ncolumn bearing tablets to the memory of the lords of Hurston who\nslept beneath. Old Sir Ralph's tomb lay in the shadow of the altar,\nwhile that of Arthur's parents--a snow-white shaft supporting a\nbroken pillar--stood in the full light of the chancel window, whose\nrichly-colored panes bore witness to the virtues of the early dead\nwho slept beneath. Lady Caroline felt Arthur's hand tremble, and she\nherself grew pale with awe; for there indeed, in the bright moonlight\nthat streamed through the painted window--there, close to the tomb of\nold Sir Ralph, in the shadow of the altar, there stood a form with\nbowed head and folded arms, a form that Arthur's silver, trembling\nvoice called \"Grandfather!\"\n\n\"Grandfather!\" and the boy with his pale face and golden curls looked\nin the falling moonlight like a seraph. \"Grandfather, speak to me!\nWhat is it that you wish of me? Speak, dear grandfather! It is your\nlittle Arthur; he does not fear you. Grandfather,\" and his voice grew\nlower and more musical, \"is it the thought of my uncle that disturbs\nyour rest? I will tell him that he is forgiven; that you sent him the\nangels' Christmas greeting--'_Peace on earth to men of good-will_--'\"\n\n\"My brave, my saintly boy! Arthur's boy!\" sobbed a deep, manly voice;\nand the young lord found himself clasped in a warm, living, loving\nembrace, while a bronzed, bearded face with great luminous dark eyes\nlooked almost reverently into his.\n\n\"Nephew, you have done what I believed no mortal could do. You have\nbrought tears into Charles Thornbury's eyes, and peace into his\nheart!\"\n\n\"O Aunt Caddy, Aunt Caddy!\" cried Arthur joyfully; \"speak to him. It\nis Uncle Charles; dear Uncle Charles, that I wrote to so long ago!\"\n\nAunt Caddy was pale and speechless as the marble shaft against which\nshe leaned for support; but Colonel Thornbury had a more potent\nspell. \"Caroline!\"--the low whisper brought a flush to cheek and\nbrow--\"Caroline, my long lost love, whose tender heart I wounded so\ndeeply, can you too join your voice to this angel boy's, and whisper\npeace? Caroline, I was mad with wounded pride and jealous love--love\nthat scorned the thought of gain, that snapped every tie when they\nsaid it was for your wealth I sought you. God forgive me! I cast\nthe words back in their teeth, and swore I would roam the world a\npenniless adventurer rather than be enriched by my wife. Caroline,\nif my sin was great, my punishment has been bitter. Ten years; ten\nlong, weary, loveless years! Arthur has welcomed me with the voice\nof peace. Have you no Christmas gift for the penitent wanderer? None\nfor the faithful heart that has ever been yours alone?\" Lady Caroline\nwas pale again; but a radiance fairer than moonlight seemed to light\nup her brow.\n\n\"Arthur has given you peace; and I--I, Charles, have only the love\nthat has waited for you these long, weary years--that would have\nwaited for you until death!\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd the sequel to this little Christmas romance? Need we tell of the\nwild joy and amazement that re\u00ebchoed through the hoary old hall?\nOf the girlish roses that deepened in Aunt Caddy's still beautiful\ncheek, and the radiant light in the wanderer's clear dark eye as,\na few months later, the merry peal of wedding-bells succeeded the\nChristmas chimes?\n\n\"A blithe bridal for a bonnie bride,\" Arthur had said when the\nlong-parted lovers pleaded his fast failing health as a reason for a\nquiet wedding.\n\n\"Uncle Charles, if you don't have a real glorious wedding, I'll marry\nAunt Caddy myself.\" Brightest and merriest of all was the lordly\nyoung host as he welcomed his guests with the princely grace that so\nwell became him, though many a living heart was sad, and kindly eye\ngrew dim, as they marked in the glowing cheek and wasted form the\nfatal heritage of his youthful parents.\n\nOnce only he himself betrayed amid his graceful gayety the\nconsciousness of his early doom.\n\nAfter their young lord had been repeatedly toasted by the joyous\ntenantry, some one merrily proposed, \"Sir Arthur's bride;\" and \"Our\nfuture lady\" was pledged in brimming bumpers.\n\nArthur's face flushed for a moment as he caught the unthinking\nshout; then, raising his own glass to his lips, he bowed to his\nuncle's bride. \"Aunt Caddy, we drink your health. Long life and\nhappiness to the future lady of Hurston!\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nA year later, and hushed voices and noiseless steps alone were heard\naround the dying couch of the fair boy-baron. Patient and gentle as\never, he waited with his own angelic smile upon his lips the summons\nthat was to call him from life.\n\nHis uncle, pale with anxiety and sorrow, watched with paternal love\nover the dying boy's pillow, until an attendant whispered something\nwhich Arthur's fast failing ear caught.\n\n\"Bring him here, uncle; let me see him before I go; let me see Aunt\nCaddy's boy.\"\n\nColonel Thornbury called the attendant, and they laid a little\nslumbering babe in the dying boy's outstretched arms. \"Call him\nArthur for me, dear uncle, and do not grieve. He has come to take my\nplace; to perpetuate the glorious old name; to be all that I would\nhave been if God had so willed it. I am happy now; so very, very\nhappy!\" He died with the words yet on his lips, the smile still on\nhis face, the light scarce faded from his eye.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nYears afterward, when the proud spirit of her impetuous boy\nthreatened to burst from her gentle restraint, and the fierce blood\nof his fiery ancestors showed itself in his kindling eye and mantling\ncheek, the gentle Lady Hurston had one spell that calmed his angriest\nmoods. She would whisper of that young cousin who had breathed his\nlast sigh with her Arthur's first breath, with the baby form clasped\nto his dying breast, of those last words of hope and happiness\nmurmured over the slumbering babe from the very portals of eternity.\n\"He said you were to take his place, dear Arthur; be worthy of him\nand of his name.\" And the boy's eye would grow calm and peaceful as\nit rested on the snowy column--the column of which Arthur had spoken\nwhen he foretold his own doom:\n\n                          ARTHUR,\n\n               SEVENTEENTH BARON OF HURSTON.\n\n           BORN MAY 2, 1830. DIED MARCH 5, 1844.\n\n                       AGED 14 YEARS.\n\n  _Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God._\n\n\n\n\nDECEMBER EIGHTH, 1869.\n\n\nI.\n\n    There came an hour, and words were uttered then\n        That live to-day and echo evermore.\n    ONE spoke them to a knot of simple men,\n        Who simply took the simple sense they bore:\n    A promise--such as never tongue or pen\n        Of sage oracular had made before;\n    And a design no _wisdom_ could have planned,\n    Save His who holds the nations in his hand.\n\nII.\n\n    Had less than God so spoken, he had been\n        The wildest of all dreamers. What! to make\n    A poor rude fisher, who had never seen\n        A gloom upon his Galil\u00e6an lake\n    But feared the menace of its boding mien,\n        A rock no surge should fret, no tempest shake--\n    The baffled ages foaming at its feet\n    The broken malice of their ceaseless beat!\n\nIII.\n\n    God saith; and who shall gainsay? Devils first;\n        Then fools, their ready dupes. To these, forsooth,\n    'Tis nobler to resist, and dare the worst,\n        Than own the gentle majesty of truth--\n    As came the church to free a world accurst,\n        And heal its heartache, and renew its youth:\n    A spring to thaw the universal frost--\n    Fire-dowered from her natal Pentecost.\n\nIV.\n\n    But principle is something to defy,\n        That may not swerve to give a falsehood breath;\n    Or call masked anarchy its stout ally,\n        And offer God an honorable death.\n    And so along the ages rolls a cry--\n        The din of onset at the gates of faith:\n    'Tis Arius now, now Luther heads the fray;\n    Or bristles up the hydra of to-day.\n\nV.\n\n    And patient Rome sits victor over all:\n        Her strength in seeming feebleness increased.\n    She smiles to hear \"the storm against the wall,\"\n        And lavished names of harlot and of beast,\n    And prophets raving of her speedy fall:\n        While Satan counts his failures with at least\n    The joy that such solidity of rock\n    Draws none the fewer to the fatal shock.\n\nVI.\n\n    Press on, close in, ye gallant ranks of hell!\n        Concentrating the might ye think to bow.\n    Stood ever Holy Church, do records tell,\n        More one, more conscious, more herself than now?\n    When was the chair of Peter loved so well?\n        Wore ever pontiff a serener brow?\n    He calls: earth hears; her utmost realms resound;\n    And lo, a thousand mitres gird him round!\n\nVII.\n\n    And they who trembled, and had been content\n        To scorn with quiet mirth a voice so weak,\n    Are forced, they find, to yield their panic vent.\n        \"Another Trent!\" rings out the indignant shriek;\n    \"This nineteenth century, another Trent!\"\n        'Tis not so sweet to have the Master speak,\n    When passion, weary of his peaceful sway,\n    No longer deems it freedom to obey.\n\nVIII.\n\n    But speak he will--the blessed words of life;\n        How welcome to the soul that thirsts to know,\n    Or views alarmed the too successful strife\n        Of earth with heaven--truth's ebb and error's flow.\n    We murmur through, our tears, \"Decay is rife!\n        The sound, the old, the sacred--all will go!\"\n    Fond fear! Whatever faithless thrones expect,\n    _Christ's_ kingdom stands: he garners his elect.\n\nIX.\n\n    The serpent writhes--his last convulsions these--\n        Beneath the foot that tramples his crushed head.\n    O Lady! worker of thy Son's decrees,\n        Thy Rome, thy Pius trust thee. Deign to shed\n    Thy gracious light, lone star of troubled seas,\n        At whose sweet ray the ancient darkness fled!\n    The serpent writhes beneath thee: deign to show\n    He is indeed the Woman's vanquished foe!\n\nX.\n\n    This day we hymn thy victory; and claim\n        Thy prayer omnipotent. Nor let it rise\n    For us alone, that boast to love thy name,\n        But those, unhappy, that have dared despise!\n    Who came for them, by thee it was He came,\n        Through thee must break unclouded to their eyes.\n    Ah Mother's Heart! How long, then, wilt thou wait\n    Till _all_ thy children sing \"IMMACULATE\"?\n\n                                          B. D. H.\n\n\n\n\nVANSLEB, THE ORIENTAL SCHOLAR AND TRAVELLER.\n\n    \"Le contraire des bruits qui courent des affaires et des hommes est\n        souvent la v\u00e9rit\u00e9.\n    La justice qui nous est quelquefois refus\u00e9e par nos contemporains,\n        la post\u00e9rit\u00e9 sait nous la rendre.\"[101]\n\n                                       LA BRUYERE.\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nCount De Maistre somewhere says that during the last century a\nreputation was made much in the same manner as you make a shoe, \"_Au\ndernier si\u00e8cle, on faisait une r\u00e9putation comme on fait un soulier_.\"\n\nThe manufacturing process indicated by De Maistre was known and\npractised long before the last century, and is even at the present\ntime by no means to be counted among the lost arts. This very day the\nreader may look around him and easily find numerous specimens of the\npeculiar industry here described. And going back two hundred years,\nwe may, out of many cases, select that of a learned, laborious,\nself-sacrificing and pious man, who, driven to a premature grave by\ningratitude, neglect, and calumny, has been falsely handed down to\nposterity as untruthful, dishonest, brutal, and grossly immoral. His\ntransmitted reputation was not the reflection of his deeds. It was\nmanufactured of shreds and patches. Dying in the disgrace caused by\nthe displeasure of the prime minister of a powerful monarch, it would\nhave been remarkable, indeed, had any one at that day so forgotten\nhimself as to become the advocate of a cause hopelessly lost. And so\nhis enemies had a clear field.\n\nWriters of history and biography of the years immediately succeeding\ntook their word, and subsequent biographers and historians had merely\nto repeat what their predecessors had said. His story is fraught with\nmore than one moral, and the impressive vindication of his character\nafter the silence of two centuries has something in it that seems\nhigher than mere human agency.\n\nJohn Michael Wansleben was born at Sommerda, near Erfurth, November\n1st, 1635. His father was the Lutheran minister of the place. At a\nproper age he was sent to the University of Erfurth, and afterward\ncompleted his studies at the University of K\u00f6nigsberg in 1656. He\nheld for a short time a position as private tutor, and entered the\narmy of the Elector of Brandenburg in 1657, serving as a private\nsoldier through the campaign of that year.\n\nWith some idea of embracing a commercial career, he then visited\nSchleswig, Amsterdam, Gl\u00fcckstadt, and Hamburg, but without result,\nand returned to Erfurth in 1658. Job Ludolf, a distinguished _savant_\nof Erfurth, was then in the meridian of his fame. Ludolf had been\nsent to Rome in 1649, to make search for the memoirs of John Magnus,\nArchbishop of Upsal, a man noted for his learning and piety, who,\nafter an unsuccessful struggle against the kingly power of Gustavus\nVasa, and the introduction of Lutheranism into Sweden, retired to\nRome, where he died. Ludolf, failing to find the memoirs he sought,\nremained some time in Rome, occupied in the study of the Ethiopian\ntongue. He was, unquestionably, a man of remarkable acquirements, and\nwas in his day credited with knowing twenty-five languages.\n\nVansleb[102] attracted the attention of Ludolf, and was received by\nhim partly as a pupil, partly as an assistant, specially devoting\nhimself, by Ludolf's direction, to the study of the Ethiopian\nlanguage. In 1661, when he was thought sufficiently advanced, Ludolf\nsent him to London to supervise the publication of his Ethiopian\ndictionary. Vansleb performed his task, and the dictionary was\npublished the same year. At this time, the English polyglot edition\n(six vols. folio) of the Bible, by Walton, Bishop of Chester, was in\ncourse of publication. There was in that day no dearth of imitators\nof Cardinal Ximenes. Although bearing the name of Walton, it was\nthe work of several learned men, and its oriental versions were\ncopied from the Bible of Le Jay, (Paris.) Distinguished among its\ncollaborators was Edmund Castell, Canon of Canterbury, an oriental\nscholar, who afterward published his _Lexicon Heptaglotton_, the\nfruit of eighteen hours' daily labor for a period of seventeen\nyears.[103] Castell met with Vansleb, and engaged him as his\nassistant, taking him into his house and admitting him to his\ntable. For three years and a half Vansleb labored with Castell, who\nthus mentions him in the preface to his _Lexicon_: \"_In ethiopicis\nper idem tempus operam impendebat suam D. M. Wanslebius, qui ad\nperpoliendum in eisdem ingenium in varias orientis oras, longa atque\npericulosa suscepit itinera._\"[104]\n\nReturning to Germany, Vansleb found that Ludolf, as the tutor of the\nyoung princes of Saxony, had obtained great credit and influence\nwith Duke Ernest, surnamed the Pious. Ludolf had long cherished the\nsingular project of bringing about an alliance between some German\nprince and the King of Ethiopia, (modern Abyssinia,) and by dint\nof long conferences on the subject with the duke, had succeeded in\nenlisting Ernest's enthusiastic interest in his plan. This it was:\n\nAn ardent champion of what is called Luther's Reformation, he\nwas assiduous in seeking for it moral support wherever it could\npossibly be found. He imagined that he saw a certain degree of\nconformity between Lutheranism and the Coptic rite, and the idea of\nthe appearance of antiquity the new religion would receive from a\nunion with one of the oldest oriental churches was more than enough\nto awaken his warmest enthusiasm. Ludolf, moreover, hoped, through\nsuperior German civilization, that Protestantism would be enabled\nto exercise a decided influence upon the retrograde population of\nAbyssinia.\n\nThe duke fully entered into all these views with the most sanguine\nhopes.\n\nThe better to appreciate Ludolf's project, let us take a rapid glance\nat the history of Abyssinia and its condition at that time.\n\nEthiopia embraced Judaism during the reign of Solomon, following the\nexample of Queen Sheba, who, according to the best authorities, was\nsovereign of that country.\n\nIt was also one of the first nations converted to Christianity\nthrough the baptism of the treasurer of Queen Candace, by the Deacon\nPhilip. (Acts of the Apostles, viii. 27-38.) And this result was\npredicted by God. _Ethiopia pr\u00e6veniet manus ejus Deo._[105] (Psalm\nlxvii. 32.) In the fifth century, Ethiopia was drawn into the\nEutychian heresy, and, under the name of Jacobites, her people to\nthis day persevere in it.\n\nIn the sixteenth century, the Portuguese having rendered some signal\nservice to the reigning king, they obtained from him authority\nallowing Jesuit missionaries to enter the country. They did so\nenter, and made numerous conversions. But persecution undid their\nwork. Catholicity was placed under ban, the faithful pursued, and\nthe dispersed missionaries put to death. The two last Jesuits, who\nremained with their neophytes, were taken and hung in 1638. Others\nsought to penetrate Abyssinia; but all who entered the country were\narrested and decapitated. The king, Basilides, was the most furious\nin persecution. He persuaded himself that the king of Portugal was\norganizing against him a league of all the monarchs in Europe. The\nvery name of Catholic was made treasonable; and he sent his own\nbrother to execution simply on suspicion of leniency to the hated\nreligion.\n\nIt was mainly from his enmity to it that he permitted, contrary to\nlaw, the introduction of Mohammedanism, and even sent for doctors to\npreach it to his people. These so-called \"disasters of the papacy\"\nwere far from being a subject of grief to the German reformers,\nparticularly to those inspired with the desire of proselytism. Duke\nErnest was called the Pious, and was now fired with the ambition of\nadding illustration to his surname.\n\nThe circumstances looked favorable in the highest degree. Any thing\nwas sufficiently recommended to King Basilides if it were only\nanti-Catholic; and therefore, the success of the Protestant mission\nwas a foregone conclusion.\n\nBut who could be found capable of executing such a mission? He should\nbe, independently of the requisite religious qualification, a person\nof experience and superior education--at once a man of the world and\na scholar--and more, an oriental scholar.\n\n\"I have him here in Erfurth,\" said Ludolf to the duke; \"an _alter\nego_, as familiar as I am with the language, literature, and customs\nof the Ethiopians.\"\n\nHe referred, of course, to Vansleb, who was already fully advised in\nthe matter from long conferences with Ludolf.\n\nDuke Ernest assumed all the expenses of the mission, drew up the\nnecessary instructions, and traced the itinerary to be followed.\n\nVansleb was to make his way to Egypt, and thence to Abyssinia, with\nno more apparent object than the ordinary curiosity of a traveller\ndesirous of studying the language and the natural history of the\ncountry. In case he found influential men favorably disposed, he was\nto advise them confidentially that a German prince named Ernest,\nwho held the Abyssinians in high esteem, as well for their warlike\nqualities as for their attachment to the ancient faith of their\nfathers, had given him letters for them in their own language, and\nthat he was willing to make the necessary advances in money to\nbring to Europe a certain number of well-disposed young Abyssinians\ndesirous of instructing themselves as to the condition of the\nChristian reformed churches, and thus bring about, between the two\npeoples and confessions, a sincere and lasting friendship.\n\nIn every respect the proposition suited Vansleb. The arrangement was\nsoon completed, and he was invested with all the necessary powers of\nan ambassador, but in a disguised and indirect form, with special\ninstructions not to exhibit his credentials until fully satisfied\nthat his advances would be met.\n\nThe result of this remarkable embassy is soon told. Ludolf himself\nrelates that he does not know whether to attribute the failure of a\nplan conceived with all possible prudence to the parsimony of the\nduke or to the imprudence of Vansleb. That Ludolf, who, after this\nperiod, never hesitated to paint Vansleb in the blackest colors,\nshould make it a matter of doubt, is quite enough to justify the\nlatter.\n\nAnd now let us accompany Vansleb on his route to Ethiopia. He reached\nCairo in January, 1664, and spent a year in visiting Egypt, and\nin studying and copying Abyssinian books. The Coptic Patriarch of\nAlexandria, Matthew de Mir, whose jurisdiction extended over the\nchurches of Ethiopia, dissuaded Vansleb from attempting to penetrate\nthat country, and he addressed Duke Ernest a letter in Arabic, giving\nthe reasons for his advice, which letter is still preserved in the\nducal library of Saxe-Gotha.\n\nAnd now the grand project of Ernest was visited--humanly\nspeaking--with poetic justice. The Coptic patriarch, who was pleased\nwith Vansleb, obtained from him an exposition of the history of the\nreformation and of Lutheran doctrine, and Vansleb, instructed in\nreturn, could, as he listened to the patriarch, compare the German\nnovelties with the antique symbol of the oriental communions. The\nresult was inevitable, and he began to see a light that illuminated\nhis mind and made evident his errors. He soon afterward embarked for\nItaly, fully resolved to seek admission to the Catholic Church.\n\nLanding at Leghorn, he went to Florence, where he spent some time,\nand was protected by the prince, who was afterward Cosmo (de' Medici)\nIII. Here, also, he made the acquaintance of the British ambassador,\nFinch, whom he subsequently met at Smyrna. Going to Rome, he there\nabjured Protestantism, was received into the church, and entered the\nDominican convent of the Minerva. This order, specially devoted to\nteaching and preaching, was best suited to his tastes and habits.\n\nAnd here, for a period of four years, Vansleb disappears from the\nworld and from history. He passed them in solitude, exclusively\noccupied with study and religious exercises.\n\nMeantime, imagine, if you can, the storm that broke at Erfurth. Duke\nErnest was bitterly disappointed, as was natural; but it would be\ndifficult to describe the fury of Ludolf. It burst forth never to\nbe extinguished but with his death. Vansleb, so warmly recommended\nby Ludolf to the duke, suddenly became a monster not only of\ningratitude, but of every other possible vice. There were no limits\nto the abuse nor to the accusations of the angry professor.\n\nAll this did not then trouble Vansleb, but he was made to feel their\neffects long afterward.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[101] The truth is frequently the very contrary of the reports\ncurrent concerning men and things.\n\nPosterity frequently does us the justice refused us by our\ncontemporaries.\n\n[102] Through the Latinization of Wansleben, _Vanslebius_, his name\nsubsequently in France took the form of Vansleb, by which he became\nknown as an author, and which he retained.\n\n[103] He spent large sums in its preparation, and twelve thousand\npounds in its publication, to say nothing of the sacrifice of his\nrepose and health. The success of the work was far from commensurate\nwith its merit, or with its author's sacrifices. After his death,\nfive hundred copies of it were found abandoned in a garret, a prey to\nrain and to rats.\n\n[104] At the same time Vansleb applied himself with all his power to\nthe study of Ethiopian, and afterward, in order to perfect himself\ntherein, undertook long and perilous voyages in various oriental\ncountries.\n\n[105] Ethiopia shall soon stretch out her hand to God.\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nAt the end of his four years with the Dominicans of Rome, Vansleb\nwent to France, where he was presented by Bosquet, the learned\nBishop of Montpellier, to the minister Colbert, as a man of superior\nmerits and of great erudition in the oriental languages. Succeeding\nMazarin and Fouquet in the councils of Louis XIV., Colbert aimed to\ndistinguish his administration by fostering letters, sciences, and\nthe arts.\n\nThe Royal Library, of sixteen thousand volumes at the accession of\nthe king, contained seventy thousand at the end of his reign--an\nincrease mainly due to Colbert. At once recognizing the merit of\nVansleb, Colbert charged him with an important Scientific mission. He\nwas instructed to travel through oriental countries, and especially\nto visit Mount Athos, the island of Chio, Aleppo, Mount Sinai,\nNitria, Constantinople, Turkey, Persia, and Baalbec; everywhere\nseeking and purchasing Arabian, Turkish, Persian, and Greek books\nand manuscripts. He was to make his way to the most remarkable\nmonasteries for the purpose of obtaining certain ecclesiastical\nworks; to collect rare medals, statues, and _bas-reliefs_, besides\npreparations in botany, natural history, and mineralogy; to give\ndescriptions of machinery, utensils, costumes, and vestments of\nthe different nations he saw; to copy inscriptions on monuments,\npillars, obelisks, and tombstones. He will keep aloof--continued his\ndirections--from political complications, wear such costumes as he\nmay think proper, and select the route which to him seems best.\n\nThe original of these instructions was found only a few years since\namong the papers of Vansleb. They bear this singular indorsement\nin the handwriting of Colbert himself: \"I do not understand these\ninstructions, more particularly as you proposed Vansleb for a mission\nto Ethiopia, which country is not even mentioned. The instructions,\nas they stand, might just as well have been given by the French\nambassador at Constantinople.\"\n\nIn point of fact, the instructions had been drawn up by Carcavy, the\nroyal librarian, a man of great merit. He saw almost insurmountable\nobstacles to the success of an Ethiopian mission, and thought it\nbetter to confine its authorization to merely verbal instructions,\nleaving it to Vansleb to attempt it or not, as he might find most\nadvisable.\n\nThe dissatisfaction of Colbert was not at first fully appreciated,\nbut it was doubtless the germ of the neglect with which Vansleb\nwas afterward treated, and of the coolness and injustice of his\nreception when he returned.\n\nVansleb departed on this, his second journey to the East, in the\nspring of 1671, and visited Malta, Cyprus, Aleppo, Damascus, and\na part of Phoenicia. He reached Damietta in March, 1672, after a\njourney marked by delays, dangers, storms, and sickness; for oriental\ntravel was not the comparatively easy and comfortable journeying\nof to-day, nor had the brutality and tyranny of eastern officials\ntoward Christians been rebuked and corrected as they since have\nbeen. Establishing his headquarters at Cairo, Vansleb made numerous\nexcursions to the Pyramids, the Sphinx, and the various monuments\nthen so novel, but now so familiar to Europeans, and indeed to\nAmericans. After renewing his acquaintance with the Patriarch Matthew\nde Mir, who had unconsciously been the instrument of his conversion\nto Catholicity, Vansleb embarked for Rosetta in May, 1672.\n\nBut we do not propose to follow our traveller through all his\nwanderings. They were full of novelty for him and for those who,\nat that period, read his descriptions of them. In 1673, he visited\nUpper Egypt and explored the antiquities of Esneh and Denderah, and\nthe remains of ancient Thebes at Luxor and Karnak. At Lycopolis,\nthe Bishop Amba Joannes introduced to him one Muallim Athanarius,\nthe only man in all Egypt, he said, who spoke the Coptic language.\nVansleben did not converse with him, but flattered himself on having\nseen the man with whom the Coptic language was to expire. After\nexploring the Thebaide and its grottos, and visiting the ruins of\nEnseneh, the column of Marcus Aurelius and the Triumphal Arch, he\nreturned to Cairo. Of course he had not lost sight of one of the\nmain objects of his mission, the purchase of rare and valuable works\nfor the Royal Library. He neglected no opportunity to obtain them,\nand up to this period of his journey he had purchased and forwarded\nto Paris three hundred and thirty-four volumes, Turkish, Persian, and\nArabic. Compelled to deal with people of all classes, some of them\nhad spoken of his purchases, and by the time he returned to Cairo it\nwas reported that the Frank stranger was gathering all the sacred\nbooks in the country for the purpose of sending them away to the\ninfidels. The Mohammedan laws made it a capital crime for a stranger\nto buy, sell, or even have in his possession any of their books,\nwhether treating of religion or any other subject. To exemplify the\nfeeling with which they regard the possession of their books by\ninfidels, (Christians,) M. Champollion Figeac relates that during the\nreign of Louis Philippe a number of young Arabs were sent to France\nby Mehemet Ali, Viceroy of Egypt, and among them two sons of the\nviceroy. While visiting the Royal Library, M. Champollion took pains\nto show one of the young princes the magnificent copy of the Koran\ntaken from a mosque in Cairo during the French expedition to Egypt.\nWhen he saw what the book was, the young Arab turned away his head,\ncovering his face with both hands.\n\nUnder the circumstances, Vansleb of course understood at once that\nhe could not remain in Egypt. For two years he had been dealing\nin books, and, if arrested, there was evidence enough to take his\nlife a hundred times. Without losing a day, he at once set out for\nConstantinople. Touching at Rhodes and the island of Chio, he went\nto Smyrna, where, to his great astonishment, and contrary to his\nuniform experience in the East, his letters of introduction and his\ncredentials were made light of by the resident French consul, who\nmore than insinuated that he suspected him of being an impostor.\n\nPersonally wounded, and annoyed at a circumstance that endangered\nhis mission and deprived him of the only legal protector to whom he\ncould have recourse in case of difficulty, Vansleben sought advice\nand assistance of the English consul, Paul Ricault. Notwithstanding\nhis decidedly French name, Ricault was a veritable Englishman, born\nin London within the sound of Bow bells. He had been secretary of\nthe Earl of Winchelsea, and ambassador extraordinary of Charles II.\nto Mohammed IV. After serving eleven years as consul of England at\nSmyrna, Clarendon appointed him, in 1685, his first secretary for\nthe provinces of Connaught and Leinster. He was afterward privy\ncouncillor and judge of the Admiralty, and under William III. was\nminister resident for the Hanseatic towns. He is the author of a\n_History of the Present Condition of the Ottoman Empire_, and other\nworks of merit. The two scholars Ricault and Vansleb immediately\nsympathized, and through Ricault Vansleb renewed the acquaintance of\nthe ambassador Finch, whom he had met in Florence, and who was then\non his way to Constantinople. Unfortunately for Vansleb, a serious\ndifficulty just then arose between the two consuls, English and\nFrench, on account of some incivility offered by the latter to the\nambassador on his arrival. Already prepossessed against Vansleben,\nthrough some underhand manoeuvre, Chambon, the French consul, from\nthat moment became his bitter enemy, alleging as one of the principal\naccusations against him his personal intimacy with the enemies\nof France. In those days there were no lines of Mediterranean\npacketboats, and Vansleb was glad to accept the invitation of the\nambassador to take passage on the man-of-war which was to transport\nhim and his suite to Constantinople. This added fuel to the flame\nof Chambon's resentment, and he thereafter left nothing undone to\ninjure Vansleb in the East and in France. Vansleb's destination was\nperfectly well known, and he had hardly set foot in Constantinople\nwhen he perceived that Smyrna had been heard from. The Marquis de\nNointel was temporarily absent when Vansleb arrived; but the manner\nof his reception by those in charge of the ambassador's residence,\nand by the merchants of the Company of the Levant, for whom he had\nletters, made it plain to him that these people to whom he was a\nstranger had already been set against him.\n\nHe found lodgings (by no means gratuitous) at the house of a\nFrench apothecary named Chaber, who discoursed eloquently on the\nshortcomings of the French embassy, criticising its extravagance, and\nits want of consideration for the French merchants of the Levant, who\nwere heavily taxed to maintain its expensive display.\n\nVansleb, unfortunately, joined in the conversation, although saying\nbut little. He afterward discovered that his few words were wrested\nto his prejudice. With his experience he should have been more on his\nguard, but he could not entirely overcome his native simplicity of\ncharacter. _Innocens credit omni verbo._ To add to his annoyances, he\nwas arrested by a Turkish patrol for wearing his beard and a turban,\nthrust into prison, subjected to personal indignities, and barely\nescaped the bastinado. Meantime, his salary was in arrears; and as\nit was his intention to strike from this point for Ethiopia, it was\nnecessary that he should start with a full purse. He bridged over the\nunavoidable delay by excursions to Broussa and the environs, and a\ntrip to Chio, in order to witness the celebrated _mastic_ harvest,\nwhich was at that time made the occasion of a religious festival. At\nChio he had made several friends, on his former visit--Dom Georgio,\nthe curate of the cathedral, Dom Matthew, the vicar-general, and a\nDr. Pepano, who was acquainted with Vansleb's _History of the Church\nof Alexandria_. The doctor was enthusiastic as to the rewards he felt\ncertain must await Vansleb on his return to France, and composed an\nacrostic in his honor, which ran thus:\n\n    \"V irtuti\n     A lemannic\u00e6\n     N imi\u00e6\n     S acer\n     L udovicus\n     E xhibebit\n     B ona\n     I mmensa\n     O ptimaque.\"[106]\n\n\"He had not the gift of prophecy,\" calmly writes Vansleb years\nafterward, when in poverty and disgrace. Returning to Constantinople,\nVansleb visited Mitylene and Tenedos.\n\nIn January, 1675, he wrote to Colbert that he was in absolute want\non account of the non-payment of his salary. In April, he received\na small remittance of one hundred and fifty francs. A letter from\nCarcavy, of April, 1674, received July 20th, announced orders soon\nto be issued for the continuance of his mission. But the orders were\nas slow in arriving as his salary. Again, on the 20th of March, he\nwrote to Colbert, expressing his impatient anxiety to be again at\nwork, and suggesting various journeys, all of them important, which\nhe was ready to make--to Trebizond, the Chersonesus, to Persia,\nSyria, Mount Lebanon, Baalbec; or he would even return to Egypt,\nwhere he would have the advantage of former experience, and his late\nacquisition of the Greek and Turkish languages, which he now spoke\nfluently, and where he could now be protected against annoyance by\na passport from the sultan. Meantime, Carcavy had assured Vansleben\nthat his labors were fully appreciated and praised by Colbert.\nFinally, on the 22d of October, our traveller received two letters\nfrom the minister, dated July 4th and August 17th; but the money\norders they contained were not cashed by the Company of the Levant\nuntil the following December.\n\nWriting to Colbert in November, Vansleben says, \"And what greater\nsatisfaction could I have than to start immediately for the country\nto which your excellency sends me?\" So that some new country was\ndesignated by Colbert in his letter. What was it? It could only\nbe Ethiopia, according to the original design, and Vansleben's\npreparations at the time appear to have been for that direction. In\nDecember, having received two thousand francs, he writes to Colbert\non the 18th that, but for the delay of waiting for a caravan and\nthe passport of the sultan, he should already have started; that\nhe expects to depart in January; to pass a month at Aleppo, in\norder to see Antioch and the Euphrates; thence to Damascus and the\ncountry of the Druses; thence to Jerusalem; from which he would take\na fresh departure for Egypt, no longer as a Frank traveller but as\nan oriental, and there await a favorable occasion to penetrate into\nEthiopia.\n\nAnd now, just at the moment when a fresh horizon of useful enterprise\nwas opening before him, when the thick clouds of envy, malevolence,\nand misfortune were apparently dispersed, the bolt fell that for ever\nshattered his career, forced him back in disgrace, and sent him bowed\ndown with sorrows and persecution to a premature grave.\n\nWhat had in the mean time taken place--what reports, complaints,\nor insinuations had been brought to Colbert's ear, has never been\nclearly ascertained; but a dispatch from him of the thirtieth\nSeptember, addressed to Nointel, advised the ambassador that Vansleb\nwas recalled to Paris. Docile and respectful, he immediately prepared\nto obey. Nointel advises Colbert in reply, January 5th, 1676, that\nVansleb was just ready to start on his eastern journey, and had\nalready expended some money in its preparation.\n\n\"Unhesitatingly though, and with apparent satisfaction, he sails\nto-morrow for France, _vi\u00e2_ Malta.\"\n\nForced by storms to stop in the island of Candia, (ancient Crete,)\nand also at Milo, Vansleb continued his labors of observation and\nresearch as though his mission had just begun. His return by sea was\nslow and tedious, and being moreover detained by illness at Lyons,\nhe did not reach Paris until the end of April, 1676. It was a long\ntime before he could obtain audience of the minister, whose reception\nof him was freezing and curt. The year wore away in expectation, and\nwinter had come again before he could obtain a second interview with\nColbert, which was more discouraging than the first.\n\nMeantime, the arrearages due him, as well for his salary as for\nexpenditures, were not paid, and he was obliged to sell his own\nEthiopian MSS. in order to live.\n\nFinally, a vigorous _placet_ dispatched to Colbert July 15th, 1677,\nobtained a third and last interview with the minister.\n\nIn this, Colbert, without making any accusation against Vansleb,\nintrenched himself in a refusal pure and simple, either to allow him\nany indemnity or to pay the amount claimed by him for his advances.\n\nMeantime, the poor monk's brother Dominicans who, on his arrival,\nhad received him kindly, had evidently been affected by the disgrace\nto which an all-powerful minister had consigned the unfortunate\ntraveller, and Vansleb's relations with them soon ceased.\n\nDiscouraged and broken-hearted, he left Paris, and after passing\na few months with Counsellor Langeois at Atys, accepted the\nhospitality of M. Texier, the cur\u00e9 of Bourron, a small village near\nFontainebleau. This kind priest's sympathy and affection alone, of\nearthly things, softened his rapid descent to the grave; for he only\nsurvived by nine months his arrival at Bourron, where he died June\n12th, 1679, at the age of forty-four years.\n\nDuring his oriental journey, Vansleb had scarcely been free from\nfever and ague, and he had contracted in Egypt an ophthalmic\naffection that gave him trouble. But neither of these maladies, nor\nboth of them together, were sufficient to have caused his death. It\nseemed a sudden sinking of the moral forces rather than the physical\nthat made him so sudden a prey to dissolution.\n\nThe man Vansleben's enemies represented him to be would not so easily\nhave succumbed. The liar, the cheat, the libertine they painted would\nhave had no heart to break.\n\nThus, in the obscurity of a small village, near the solitude of a\ngreat forest, Vansleb silently descended into the tomb. The earthly\nsounds that gathered around his existence had ceased, and the phantom\nof his fame was buried with his earthly remains. As his death had\nbeen obscure, so his last resting-place was hidden from the public\ngaze. At the peril of his life, he endowed France with the scientific\nriches that may still be seen in her royal collections; yet under the\nmost prodigal of her monarchs he did not receive the recompense of a\nwinding-sheet, or the poor commemoration of a gravestone.\n\nEven England was more generous, at least in appreciation of his merit.\n\nOn Vansleb's return from Egypt, Dr. Bernard, of the University of\nOxford, composed in his honor the following lines:\n\n    \"Deseris \u00c6gyptum spoliis majoribus auctus,\n    Quam gens Hebr\u00e6um sub duce Mose tulit!\"[107]\n\nOf Vansleb's merits as a _savant_ there could be no question. Before\nhe left London, his reputation was already established as an oriental\nscholar, although his knowledge at that time was small compared with\nwhat he afterward acquired. Latin, Greek, and Hebrew he knew well,\nand he spoke and wrote correctly and fluently the German, French,\nItalian, English, Arabic, modern Greek, Turkish, and Ethiopian\nlanguages. His principal published works are,\n\n1. _Conspectus operum \u00c6thiopicorum qu\u00e6 ad excudendum parata habebat\nWanslebius._ Paris, 1671, in 4to.\n\n2. _Relazione Dello Stato Presente Dell' Egitto._ In Parigi, MDCLXXI.\n\n3. _Nouvelle Relation d'un Voyage fait en Egypte par le P. Vansleb,\nR.D., en 1672 et 1673._ Paris, 1677.[108]\n\n4. _Voyage du Caire \u00e0 Chio, et de Chio \u00e0 Constantinople, fait de 1673\njusqu'\u00e0 1675._\n\n5. _Histoire de l'Eglise d'Alexandrie, fond\u00e9e par St. Marc, que nous\nappelons celle des Jacobites Coptes d'Egypte, \u00e9crite au Caire m\u00eame\nen 1672 et 1673. Par le P. J. M. Vansleb, Dominicain du Convent de\nla Minerve \u00e0 Rome._ Paris, 1677.\n\nThe works on Egypt and on the Church of Alexandria, it will be\nremarked, were published on his return from the east, precisely at\nthe period of his severest trials. There is quite an interesting\nchapter in the history of criticism connected with Vansleb's work\non the Church of Alexandria, a work of great merit, which covered\nnearly the same ground as that of a _History of Abyssinia_ written by\nLudolf. This, of course, was, in Ludolf's eyes, only another and a\ngreater crime added to those of which he had already accused Vansleb.\n\nAlthough Moreri, Le Grand, Michaud, and Renaudot were all more\nor less misled as to Vansleb's personal character, they testify\nunanimously as to the positive merit of the work in question, and to\nits superiority over that of Ludolf. It is remarkable that Father\nPapebrock and his illustrious colleague Bollandus were led astray,\nand indeed deceived, by Ludolf. They had confidence in him as a\nbrother _savant_, but leaned too much upon him. Their error was\nnaturally shared by the _Journal de Trevoux_, and thence extended to\nother Jesuits.\n\nAlthough Vansleb's works were at first freely used, they were not\nfreely quoted. Gradually they sank out of sight. Only rare catalogues\nchronicled them, and his unpublished MSS. had totally disappeared.\nOccasional echoes of his name might, at intervals, be heard in\nthe sanctuaries of science, and these, rarely repeated during two\ncenturies, became at last so feeble as no longer to be perceptible.\n\nBut sleep is not death, nor is night an eternal eclipse. The day of\nreparation was at last about to dawn, and the memory of Vansleb to\narise vindicated from the tomb.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[106] To the learned German traveller Louis will be generous in\nfavors, riches, and most excellent gifts.\n\n[107] You bring with you from Egypt richer treasures than the\nHebrews, led by Moses, took away.\n\n[108] The Astor Library has a copy of this work.\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nM. Champollion Figeac, the well-known _savant_ and orientalist, was\nfor many years conservator of the Imperial Library of the palace\nat Fontainebleau. One day in 1856[109] he attended the sale of the\nlibrary of the late Marquis de Coulanges. His daughter relates that\non his return he appeared to be in a state of high mental excitement,\nthe main symptom of which was the manifestation of extravagant\njoy. Convulsively embracing her, he exhibited a volume he had just\npurchased, and which appeared to be the cause of his superlative\nsatisfaction. The volume was Vansleb's manuscript. Familiar with\nVansleb's published works, M. Champollion and many other scholars had\nlong regretted the loss of this manuscript. His joy at finding it\ncan readily be understood. Finding an indorsement on the manuscript\nthat indicated Bourron as the place of Vansleb's death and burial,\nM. Champollion immediately wrote to the cur\u00e9 of that village for\ninformation as to Vansleb, and as to the condition of his tomb. But\nthe deceased monk had passed so short a time at Bourron that he had\nleft absolutely no trace in the local traditions of the place, and no\none there had ever seen or heard of his tomb. However, on a careful\nsearch of the registers, the entry of his burial was found, and his\nlast resting-place sufficiently indicated.\n\nIn 1859, the church was completely renovated, and advantage was taken\nof that circumstance to search for and find the remains of the poor\nmonk. After the necessary formalities of identification had been\ncomplied with, they were carefully re-interred, and M. Champollion,\nhaving interested the emperor in the matter, was authorized to have\nerected over the grave an appropriate and elegant monument, bearing\nthe inscription of which the following is a translation:\n\n          TO THE MEMORY OF\n        JOHN MICHAEL VANSLEB,\n      DOMINICAN OF THE MINERVA,\n    LEARNED TRAVELLER IN THE EAST,\n       BY ORDER OF LOUIS XIV.\n       DIED, VICAR OF BOURRON,\n            JUNE 12, 1679.\n       RESTORATION OF HIS TOMB\n  UNDER THE AUSPICES OF THE EMPEROR,\n            NAPOLEON III.,\n          IN THE YEAR 1861.\n\nBut a more important rehabilitation remained to be made, and M.\nChampollion showed, if possible, greater zeal in this than in the\nmerely material one. Vansleb's MSS. and letters were carefully\nexamined and found to throw new and important light on capital\nincidents heretofore either totally suppressed or wrested to his\ndisadvantage.\n\nToo aged and infirm even to undertake a task which would have been\nto him only a labor of love, M. Champollion confided the papers\nto the Abb\u00e9 Pougeois, the present cur\u00e9 of Bourron, who, under the\ninspiration of the learned orientalist, prepared a careful and\nelaborate memoir of the forgotten Dominican. It was eminently\nfitting, and poetic in its justice, that Vansleb's vindication\nshould come from the double source of science and the church. On\nthe completion of the Abb\u00e9 Pougeois' work, it was, by order of\nthe emperor, submitted for examination to M. Octave Feuillet,\nmember of the French Academy, and the successor of M. Champollion\nat Fontainebleau. The report being entirely favorable, the Abb\u00e9\nPougeois' memoir was ordered to be published at the expense of\nthe emperor, under the title, _Vansleb, savant, orientaliste,\net voyageur. Sa Vie, sa Disgrace, ses Oeuvres. Par M. l'Abb\u00e9\nPougeois, Cur\u00e9 de Bourron._ Paris, 1869. The book is a large and\nhandsome volume of 481 octavo pages. It has been freely used in the\npreparation of this article.\n\nThe current misrepresentations concerning Vansleb were taken up\ninto the literary history of the period, and have been ever since\nrepeated by successive historians and biographers. Nevertheless,\nsome of them were apparently struck with the inconsistencies and\ncontradictions involved in the charges against the defenceless monk,\nand gradually the most offensive of these were dropped. Among the\nmodern biographical notices of Vansleb, that contained in Charles\nKnight's _English Cyclop\u00e6dia_ (article \"Wansleben;\" nearly identical\nwith one in the _Penny Cyclop\u00e6dia_) is generally fair. It states,\nhowever, that Vansleb \"was called to account for moneys intrusted\nto his disposal, and disgraced for misapplying them.\" Although the\nwriter of that notice doubtless had the warrant of half a dozen\nbiographies for making the statement, it is utterly devoid of truth;\nso much so, indeed, that at the period of his death Vansleb was the\ncreditor, not the debtor, of the French government. Colbert was to\nhave paid Vansleb the miserable salary of two thousand francs per\nannum, and one thousand francs for the purchase of MSS. and valuable\ncuriosities! Even allowing liberally for the difference in the values\nof money then and now, two thousand francs still remains a pitiable\nsum wherewith to remunerate one year's services of such a man as\nVansleb.\n\nWith the miserable stipend of one thousand francs per annum, he\npurchased and sent (in 1671-72 and 1673) to the Royal Library, where\nthey still remain, four hundred and fifty-seven valuable MSS. and\nbooks, Arabic, Turkish, Persian, Coptic, and Ethiopian, besides a\nlarge quantity of inscriptions on stone and metal, marbles, medals,\nand animals, living and dead.\n\nIf we must believe Vansleb's traducers, we witness the strange\nspectacle of a defaulter insisting upon and with difficulty obtaining\nan interview with his principal. And this not once, but twice and\nthrice. In one of his letters to Colbert, written March 20th, 1677,\nmore than a month after his return to Paris, Vansleb claims as due\nhim--_First._ The amount expended in preparation for the journey he\nwas about to undertake when ordered back by the minister. _Second._\nThe balance of his last account rendered. _Third._ The amount\nstill unpaid him for books, MSS., etc., sent to the Royal Library.\n_Fourth._ His salary up to the time he was definitely discharged, at\nthe third and last audience accorded him by the minister. The letter\nreferred to is dignified, firm, and moderate--as unlike as possible\nin its tone that of a defaulter and a dishonest man. Thus, he tells\nColbert,\n\n     \"Perceiving that I have good reason to expect from your excellency\n     neither munificence nor liberality, nor even such an honorable\n     recompense as I had every just reason to look for after such long\n     and important labors, I at least do not anticipate from your\n     excellency's justice, since you insist upon a rigorous settlement,\n     a refusal to pay the balance due me for expenditures in the\n     service of his majesty, and which I have not claimed until now,\n     for the reason that I was warranted in presuming upon such a fair\n     remuneration as would cover it. In as few words as possible, then,\n     my lord, and with rigorous exactitude, there is due me--\"[110]\n\nAnd here follows the recapitulation already presented.\n\nThe injustice and indignity with which Vansleb was treated by Colbert\nis in marked contrast to the liberality usually displayed by Louis\nXIV. and his administration toward travellers whose merits were far\ninferior to those of the Dominican monk. On Tavernier, who brought\nback with him from his travels precious stones to the value of\nthree millions, distinguished honors and letters of nobility were\nconferred. Sanson, the geographer, besides honorary titles, received\na salary of two thousand livres. Vaillant, who made a journey\nsomewhat similar to that of Vansleb, was honored with a position\nin one of the academies, and endowed with a pension. Tournefort,\nwho travelled in the east under order of the court, was absent but\ntwo years, had all his expenses paid, and received a salary (in\nadvance) of three thousand livres. He returned in 1702, at a period\nwhen the French finances were far from prosperous, and was awarded\na recompense beyond his salary. Paul Lucas, toward the end of\nLouis XIV.'s reign, was also an eastern explorer. His travels were\npublished by the king's command. They are filled with amusing but\nabsurd stories, which diverted the king and made the traveller's\nfortune.\n\nVansleb's solid erudition was not so profitable. His published works,\nwhich are of a nature to interest none but the arch\u00e6ologist, the\nethnographer, and the theologian, may soon be forgotten, and need\nno further notice than the few words we have given them; but it is\neminently proper that we should, in his case, contribute our mite\nto the vindication of truth and the rehabilitation of a too long\nsuffering reputation.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[109] He died in the palace at Fontainebleau May 9th, 1867, aged\neighty-nine years.\n\n[110] \"Voyant que V. E. ne me fait plus rien esp\u00e9rer qui sente la\nmagnificence et la lib\u00e9ralit\u00e9, ni m\u00eame quelque honn\u00eate r\u00e9compense,\nque je croyais justement pouvoir esp\u00e9rer, apr\u00e8s de si longues et\nde si grandes peines, je me promets pourtant de la justice de V.\nE., puisqu'elle veut traiter les choses \u00e0 la rigueur, qu'elle ne\nme refusera pas le paiement de quelques restes de d\u00e9penses que\nj'ai faites comme les autres au service de sa majest\u00e9, et dont je\nn'ai os\u00e9 parler jusqu'\u00e0 pr\u00e9sent, dans la pens\u00e9e que j'avais qu'une\nhonn\u00eate r\u00e9compense me tiendrait lieu de tout cela. En trois mots,\nMonseigneur, parlant dans la derni\u00e8re rigueur, il me reste encore,\"\netc.\n\n\n\n\nTRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF CONRAD VON BOLANDEN.\n\nANGELA.\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nPOISONOUS FOOD.\n\n\"Herr Frank has not been here for four days,\" said Siegwart as he\nreturned one day from the field. \"He will not come to-day, for it is\nalready nine o'clock. I hope the young man is not ill.\"\n\nAngela started.\n\n\"Ill? May God forbid!\"\n\n\"At least, I know no other reason that could prevent him from coming.\nHe has become a necessity to me; I seem to miss something.\"\n\nAngela concealed her uneasiness in true womanly fashion. She busied\nherself about the room, dusted the furniture, arranged the vases and\ntrimmed the flowers; but one could see that her mind was not in the\nwork.\n\n\"Would it not be well, father, to send and inquire after his health?\"\n\n\"It would if we were certain that he was ill. I only made a\nconjecture. However, if he does not come to-morrow, I will send Henry\nover. We owe him this attention; he is sensible, modest, and very\nintelligent. We find at present in the cities and first families few\nyoung men of so little assumption and so much goodness and manliness.\"\n\nAngela pricked her finger. She had incautiously wandered into the\nthicket, as if she did not know that roses have thorns.\n\n\"Many things tell of his kind-heartedness,\" she replied, with averted\nface. \"He sends five dollars every week to the old blind woman\nin Salingen; he often takes the money himself, and comforts the\nunfortunate creature. The blind woman is full of enthusiasm about\nhim. He bought the cooper a full set of tools, that he might be able\nto support his mother and seven little sisters.\"\n\n\"Very praiseworthy,\" said the father.\n\nAs Siegwart came home in the evening, Angela met him in the yard. She\ncarried a basket and was about to go into the garden.\n\n\"Herr Frank is not unwell,\" said he; \"I saw him in the field and\nwent through the vineyard to meet him; but when he discovered my\nintention, he turned about and hastened toward the house. That\nsurprises me.\"\n\nAngela went into the garden. She stood on the bed and gazed at the\nlettuce. The empty basket awaited its contents, and in it lay the\nknife whose bright blade glistened before the idle dreamer. She stood\nthus meditating, lost in thought for a long time, which was certainly\nnot her custom.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nHerr Frank had returned from the city, and was roughly received by\nthe doctor.\n\n\"Have you spoken to your son?\" said he sharply.\n\n\"No! I have just alighted from the carriage,\" answered Frank in\nastonishment.\n\nThe doctor walked up and down the room, and Frank saw his face\ngrowing darker.\n\n\"You disturb me, good friend. How is Richard?\"\n\n\"Bad, very bad! And it is all your fault. You gave Richard those\nmaterialistic books which I threw out of the window. He has read the\ntrash--not read, but studied it; and now we have the consequences.\"\n\n\"Pardon me, doctor. I did not give my son those books. He was passing\nthe window when you threw them out, and took them to his room.\"\n\n\"You knew that! Why did you leave him the miserable trash?\"\n\n\"I had no idea of the danger of these writings. Explain yourself\nfurther, I entreat.\"\n\n\"You must first see your son. But I bind it on your conscience to use\nthe greatest precaution. Do not show the least surprise. We have to\ndeal with a dangerous disorder. Do not say a word about his changed\nappearance. Then come back to me again.\"\n\nGreatly disturbed, the father passed to the room of his son. Richard\nsat on the sofa gazing at the floor. His cheeks had lost their\nbloom, his face was emaciated, and his eyes deeply sunken. Vogt's\n_Physiological Letters_ lay open near him. He did not rise quickly\nand joyfully to kiss his father, as was his custom. He remained\nsitting, and smiled languidly at him. Herr Frank, grieved and\nperplexed, sat down near him, and took occasion to pick up the book.\n\n\"How are you, Richard?\"\n\n\"Very well, as you see.\"\n\n\"You are industrious. What book is this?\"\n\n\"A rare book, father--a remarkable book. One learns there to know\nwhat man is and what he is not. Until now, I did not know that cats,\ndogs, monkeys, and all animals were of our race. Now I know; for it\nis clearly demonstrated in that book.\"\n\n\"You certainly do not believe such absurdities?\"\n\n\"Believe? I believe nothing at all. Faith ends where proof begins.\"\n\nHerr Frank read the open page.\n\n\"All this sounds very silly,\" said he. \"Vogt asserts that man has no\nsoul, and proves it from the fact that men become idiotic. If the\nfunctions of the brain are disturbed, the soul ceases, says Vogt. He\ntherefore concludes that the spirit consists in the brain. The man\nmust have been crazy when he wrote that. I am no scholar; but I see\nat the first glance how false and groundless are Vogt's inferences.\nEvery reasonable man knows that the brain is the instrument of the\nmind, which enables it to participate in the world of sense; now,\nwhen the instrument is destroyed, the participation of the mind with\nthe outward world must cease. Although a man may be an expert on the\nviolin, he cannot play if the strings are broken or out of tune. But\nthe player, his ideas, the art, still remain. In like manner the\nspirit remains, although it can no longer play on the injured or\ndiscordant fibres of the brain.\"\n\n\"You must read the whole book, father, and then those others there.\"\n\n\"But, Richard, you must not read books that rob man of all dignity.\"\n\n\"Of course not. I should do as the ostrich. When he is in danger,\nhe sticks his head into the bushes not to see the danger. A prudent\nplan. But I cannot close my eyes to the light, even if that light\nshould destroy my human respect.\"\n\nGreatly afflicted, Herr Frank returned to the doctor.\n\n\"Great God! in what a condition is my poor Richard!\" said the\noppressed father.\n\n\"He will, I hope, be rescued. My stay at Frankenh\u00f6he was to end with\nthe month of May; but I cannot forsake a young man whom I love, in\nthis helpless state of mental delirium.\"\n\n\"I do not understand the condition of my son; and your words give me\ngreat anxiety. Have the goodness to tell me what is the matter with\nRichard, and how it came about.\"\n\n\"It would be very difficult to make your son's condition clear\nto you. In you there is only business, lucrative undertakings,\nspeculative combinations. The bustle of the money market is your\nworld. You have no idea of the power of an intellectual struggle.\nYou know the thoughtful, intellectual nature of your son; and here\nI begin. In the first place, I will remind you that Richard wishes\nto be governed by the power of deduction. With him fantasies and\npassions retreat before this force, although usually in men of his\nyears, and even in men with gray hair, clearness of mind and keen\npenetration are often swept away by the current of stormy passions.\nRichard's aversion to women is the result of cool reflection and\ninevitable inference, and therefore on this question I do not dispute\nhis views. I know it would be useless, and I know that the study of a\npure feminine nature would overcome this prejudice. The same force of\nlogical inferences places Richard in this unhappy condition. He read\nthe writings of the materialist. There he found the physiological\nproofs that man is a beast. From these proofs Richard drew all the\nterrible consequences contained in those destructive doctrines. As\nthe intellectual life predominates in him, and as he has a strong\nrepugnance to materialistic madness, his nature must be stirred in\nits profoundest depths. If Richard succumbs, he will act in his\nhabitual consistent manner. All moral basis lost, morality would\nbe foolishness to him, since it is useless for beasts to curb\nthe passions by moral laws. As with immortality disappears man's\neternal destiny, it would be foolish to \"fight the giant fight of\nduty.\" If he is convinced that man is a beast, he will live like\na beast--although he might cloak his conduct with the varnish of\ndecency--and thus suddenly would the sensible Richard stand before\nhis astonished father a ruined man. This is one view; there is still\nanother,\" said the doctor hesitatingly. \"I remember in the course\nof my practice a suicide who wrote on a slip of paper, 'What do I\nhere? Eat, drink, sleep, worry, and fret; much suffering, little\njoy; therefore--' and the man sent a bullet through his head. This\nsuicide thought logically. This earthly life is insupportable;\nit is foolishness to a man who thinks and is at the same time a\nmaterialist.\"\n\n\"What prospects--horrible!\" cried Herr Frank, wringing his hands.\n\"Accursed be those books; and I am the cause of this misfortune!\"\n\n\"The involuntary cause,\" said Klingenberg consolingly. \"You now have\na firm conviction of the devastating effects of those bad books. But\nhow many are there who consider every warning in this connection an\nexhibition of prejudice or narrow-mindedness! How few readers are so\nmodest as to admit that they want the scientific culture to refute a\nbad book, to separate the poison from the honey of sweet phrases and\nwinning style! How few can see that they cannot read those bad books\nwithout detriment! No one would sit on a cask of powder and touch it\noff for amusement; and yet those hellish books are more dangerous\nthan a cask full of powder. To me this is incomprehensible. Poisonous\nfood is always injurious; yet thousands and millions drink greedily\nfrom this poisonous stream of bad reading which deluges all grades of\nsociety.\"\n\n\"I will do immediately what must be done,\" said Herr Frank as he\nhastily rose.\n\n\"What will you do?\"\n\n\"Take from my son those execrable books.\"\n\n\"By no means,\" said Klingenberg. \"This would be a psychological\nmistake. Richard would buy the same books again at the book-shop, and\nread them secretly. A man who has the resolution of your son must\nbe won by honorable combat. Authority would here be badly applied.\nTherefore I forbid you to interfere. You know nothing of the matter.\nTreat him kindly, and have forbearance with his sensitiveness. That\nis what I must require of you.\"\n\nGreatly afflicted, Herr Frank left the doctor. Overwhelming himself\nwith reproaches, he wandered restlessly about the house and garden.\nHe saw Richard standing at the open window with folded arms, dreamy\nand pale, his hair in disorder like a storm-beaten wheat-field--truly\na painful sight for the father. He went up to his room, where the\nsmall library stood in its beautiful binding. A servant stood near\nhim with a basket. The works of Eugene Sue, Gutzkow, and like spirits\nfell into the basket.\n\n\"All to the fire!\" commanded Herr Frank.\n\nThe doctor had compared bad literature to poisonous food. The\ncomparison was not inapt; at least, it gave Richard the appearance of\na man in whose body destructive poison was working. He was listless\nand exhausted; in walking, his hands hung heavily by his side. His\neyes were directed to the ground, as if he were seeking something.\nIf he saw a snail, he stopped to examine the crawling creature. He\nsought to know why the snail crawls about, and, to his astonishment,\nfound that the snail always followed an object; which is not always\nthe case with man, animal of the moment, who goes about without an\nobject. If a caterpillar accidentally got under his foot, he pushed\nit carefully aside and examined if it had been hurt. It seemed to\nhim logical that creeping and flying things had the same claims to\nforbearance and proper treatment as man, since according to Vogt and\nB\u00fcchner's striking proofs, all creeping and flying things are not\nessentially different from man.\n\nHe paid particular attention to the spiders. If he came to a place\nwhere their web was stretched, he examined attentively the artistic\ntexture; he saw the firmly fastened knot on the twig which held the\nweb apart, the circular meshes, the cunning arrangement to catch\nthe wandering fly. He was convinced that such a spider would be a\nthousand times more intelligent than Herr Vogt and Herr B\u00fcchner, with\nhalf as big a head as those wise naturalists. The enterprising spirit\nof the ants excited not less his admiration. He always found them\nbusy and in a bustle, to which a market-day could not be compared.\nEven London and Paris were solitary in comparison to the throng in\nan ant-hill. They dragged about large pieces of wood, as also leaves\nand fibres, to construct their house, which was laid out with design\nand finished with much care. If he pushed his cane into the hill,\nthere forthwith arose a great revolution. The inhabitants rushed out\nupon him, nipped him with their pincers, and showed the greatest\nrage against the invader of their kingdom, while others with great\ncelerity placed the eggs in safety. He observed that the ants gave no\nquarter, and considered every one a mortal enemy who disturbed their\nstate.\n\nThe young man sat on a stone and examined a snail that crawled slowly\nfrom the wet grass. It carried a gray house on its back, and beslimed\nthe way as it went, and stretched out its horns to discover the best\ndirection. Its delicate touch astonished Frank. When obstacles came\nin its way which it did not see nor touch, it would perceive them by\nmeans of a wonderful sensibility.\n\nHow stupid did Richard appear to himself, beside a horned, blind\nsnail. How many men only discover obstacles in their way when they\nhave run their heads against them, and how many wish to run their\nheads through walls without any reason! He arose and looked toward\nAngela's home. He was dejected, and heaved a sigh.\n\n\"All is of no avail. The activity of the animal world affords no\ndiversion, the benumbing strokes of materialism lose their effect.\nThe rare becomes common, and does not attract attention. There walks\nan angel in the splendor of superior excellence, and I endeavor in\nvain to distract my mind from her by studying the animals. I follow\nwillingly the professors' exact investigations, into the labyrinth\nof their studied arguments to make it appear that I am only an\nanimal, that all our sentiment is only imagination and fallacy. It\nis all in vain. Can these gentlemen teach me how we can cease to\nhave admiration for the noble and exalted? Here man forcibly breaks\nthrough. Here self, irresistible and disgusted with error, brings\nthe nobility of human nature to consciousness, and all the wisdom of\nboasted materialism becomes idle nonsense.\"\n\n\"Thank God! I see you again, my dear neighbor,\" said Siegwart\ncordially. \"Where have you kept yourself this last week? Why do you\nno longer visit us? My whole house is excited about you. Henry is\nangry because he cannot show you the horses he bought lately. My wife\nbothers her head with all kinds of forebodings, and Angela urged me\nto send and see if you were ill.\"\n\nA new life permeated Frank's whole being at these last words; his\ncheeks flushed and his languid eyes brightened up.\n\n\"I know no good reason as an apology, dear friend. Be assured,\nhowever, that the apparent neglect does not arise from any coolness\ntoward you and your esteemed family.\" And he drew marks in the sand\nwith his cane.\n\n\"Perhaps your father took offence at your visits to us?\"\n\n\"Oh! no. No; I alone am to blame.\"\n\nSiegwart gave a searching glance at the pale face of the young man\nwho, broken-spirited, stood before him, and whose mental condition he\ndid not understand, although he had a vague idea of it.\n\n\"I will not press you further,\" said he cheerfully. \"But, as a\npunishment, you must now come with me. I received yesterday a fresh\nsupply of genuine Havanas, and you must try them.\"\n\nHe took Richard by the arm, and the latter yielded to the friendly\ncompulsion. They went through the vineyard. Frank broke from a twig a\nfolded leaf.\n\n\"Do you know the cause of this?\"\n\n\"Oh! yes; it is the work of the vine-weevil,\" answered Siegwart.\n\"These mischief-makers sometimes cause great damage to the vineyards.\nSome years I have their nests gathered and the eggs destroyed to\nprevent their doing damage.\"\n\n\"You consider every thing with the eyes of an economist. But I admire\nthe art, the foresight, and the intelligence of these insects.\"\n\n\"Intelligence--foresight of an insect!\" repeated Siegwart,\nastonished. \"I see in the whole affair neither intelligence nor\nforesight.\"\n\n\"But just look here,\" said Richard, carefully unfolding the leaf.\n\"What a degree of considerate management is necessary to fix the leaf\nin such order. The ribs of this leaf are stronger than the force of\nthe beetle. Yet he wished to fold the eggs in it. What does he do?\nHe first pierces the stem with his pincers; in consequence of this,\nthe leaf curls up and becomes soft and pliable to the frail feet\nof the insect. This is the first act of reflection. The piercing\nof the stem had evidently as its object to cause the leaf to roll\nup. Then he begins to work with a perfection that would do honor to\nhuman skill. The leaf is rolled up in order to put the eggs in the\nfolds. Here is the first egg; he rolls further--here is the second\negg, some distance from the first, in order to have sufficient food\nfor the young worm--again an act of reflection; lastly, he finishes\nthe roll with a carefully worked point, to prevent the leaf from\nunfolding--again an act of reflection.\"\n\nSiegwart heard all this with indifference. What Richard told him he\nhad known for years. His employment in the fields revealed to his\nobserving mind wonderful facts in nature and in the animal world. The\nwisdom of the vine-weevil gave him no difficulty. He looked again in\nFrank's deep-sunken eyes and noticed a peculiar expression, and in\nhis countenance great anxiety.\n\nHe concluded that the work of the vine-weevil must have some\nconnection with the young man's condition.\n\n\"You see actions of reflection and design where I see only\nunconscious instinct.\"\n\nFrank became nervous.\n\n\"The common evasion of superficial examination!\" cried he. \"Man must\nbe just even to the animals. Their works are artistic, intelligent,\nand considerate. Why then deny to animals those powers which operate\nwith intelligence and reflection?\"\n\n\"I do not for a moment dispute this power of the animals,\" replied\nthe proprietor quickly.\n\n\"You find mind in the animals?\" interrupted Frank hastily. \"This\nconviction once reached, have you considered the consequences that\nfollow?\"--and he became more excited. \"Have you considered that with\nthis admission the whole world becomes a fabulous structure, without\nany higher object? If the spider is equal to man, then its torn web\nthat flutters in the wind is worth as much as the crumbling fragments\nof art which remain from classic antiquity. Virtue, the careful\nrestraining of the passions, is stark madness. The disgusting ape,\nlustful and brutish, is as good as the purest virgin who performs\nsevere penances for her idle dreams. It is with justice that the\ncriminal scoffs at the good as bedlamites who, with fanatical\ndelusion, strive for castles in the air. Every outcast from society,\nsunk and saturated in the basest vices, is precisely as good as the\npurest soul and the noblest heart; for all distinction between right\nand wrong, good and evil, is destroyed.\"\n\nAngela's father gazed with solicitude into the perplexed look and\ndistorted countenance of the young man.\n\n\"You deduce consequences, Herr Frank, that could not be drawn\nfrom my admissions,\" said he mildly. \"There is no conscious power\nin animals--no reflecting soul. The animal works with the power\nthat is in it, as light and heat in the fire, as in the lightning\nthe destructive force, as the exciting and purifying effects in\nthe storm. The animal does not act freely, like man; but from\nnecessity--according to instinct and laws which the Almighty has\nimposed upon it.\"\n\n\"A gratuitous assumption! A shallow artifice,\" exclaimed Frank. \"The\nanimal shows understanding, design, and will; we must not deny him\nthese faculties.\"\n\n\"If the lightning strikes my house and discovers with infallible\ncertainty all the metal in the walls, even where the sharpest eye\ncould not detect it, must you recognize mental faculties in the\nlightning in discovering the metal?\"\n\nFrank hemmed and was silent.\n\n\"What a botcher is the most learned chemist compared with the\nroot-fibres of the smallest plant,\" continued Siegwart. \"Every plant\nhas its own peculiar life; this I observe every day. All plants\ndo not flourish alike in the same soil. They only flourish where\nthey find the necessary conditions for their peculiar life; where\nthey find in the air and earth the conditions necessary for their\nexistence. Set ten different kinds of plants together in a small plat\nof ground. The different fibres will always seek and absorb only that\nmaterial in the earth which is proper to their kind; they will pass\nby the useless and injurious substances. Now, where is the chemist\nwho with such certainty, such power of discrimination, and knowledge\nof substances, can select from the inert clod the proper material? A\nchemist with such knowledge does not exist. Now, must you admit that\nthe fibres possess as keen an understanding and as deep a knowledge\nof chemistry as the man who is versed in chemistry?\"\n\n\"That would be manifest folly.\"\n\n\"Well,\" concluded Siegwart quietly, \"if the vine-weevil weaves its\nwrapper, the spider its web, the bird builds its nest, and the beaver\nhis house, they all do it in their way, as the root-fibres in theirs.\"\n\nRichard remained silent, and they passed into the house.\n\nAngela and her mother looked with astonishment and sympathy on their\nfriend.\n\nSoon in the mild countenance of Madam Siegwart there appeared\nnearly the same expression as in the first days after the death of\nEliza--so much did the painful appearance of the young man afflict\nher. Angela turned pale, her eyes filled, and she strove to hide\nher emotion. Frank only looked at her furtively. Whatever he had to\nsay to her, he said with averted eyes. Siegwart expended all his\npowers of amusement; but he did not succeed in cheering the young\nman. He continued depressed, embarrassed, and sad, and constantly\navoided looking at Angela. When she spoke he listened to the sound of\nher voice, but avoided her look. Presently a low barking was heard\nin the room and Hector, who had growlingly received Frank at his\nfirst visit, but who in time had become an acquaintance of his, lay\nstretched at full length dreaming. Scarcely did Richard notice the\ndreaming animal when he exclaimed,\n\n\"The dog dreams! See how his feet move in the chase, how he opens his\nnostrils, how he barks, how his limbs reach for the game! The dog\ndreams he is in the chase.\"\n\n\"I have often observed Hector's dreams,\" said Siegwart coolly.\n\nFrank continued,\n\n\"Have you considered the consequences that follow from the dreams of\nthe dog? Dreams show a thinking faculty,\" said he hastily. \"Animals,\nthen, think like men; thoughts are the children of the mind;\ntherefore, animals have minds. Animals and men are alike.\"\n\nAngela started at these words. Her mother shook her head.\n\n\"You conclude too hastily, my dear friend,\" said Siegwart coolly.\n\"You must first _know_ that animals dream like men. Men think,\nreflect, and speak in dreams. The dreams of animals are very\ndifferent from those mental acts.\"\n\n\"How will you explain it?\" said Richard excitedly.\n\n\"Very easily. Hector is now in the chase. The dog's sense of smell\nis remarkable. By means of the fragrant wind Hector smells the\npartridges miles away. He acts then just as in the dream; feet,\nnose, and limbs come into activity. Suppose that in the surrounding\nfields there is a covey of partridges. The air would indicate them\nto Hector's smelling organs; these organs act, as in the waking\nstate, on the brain of the animal; the brain acts on the other\norgans. Where is there thought? Have we not a purely material effect?\nThe cough, the appetite, the sneezing, the aversion--what have all\nthese to do with mind or thought? Nothing at all. The dream of the\ndog is an entirely muscular process, the mere co-working of the\nmuscular organs; as with us, digestion, the flowing of the blood, the\ntwitching of the muscles--facts with which the mind has nothing to\ndo.\"\n\n\"Your assertion is based on the assumption that partridges are\nnear,\" said Richard; \"and I will be obliged to you if, with Hector's\nassistance, you convince me of this fact.\"\n\n\"That is unnecessary, my dear friend. Suppose there are no\npartridges in the neighborhood. The same affection of the brain which\nwould be produced by the smell of the partridges could be produced by\naccident. If it is accidental, it will have the same effect in the\nsleeping condition of the dog.[111] Affections accidentally arise\nin man the causes of which are not known. We are uneasy, we know\nnot why; we are discouraged without any knowledge of the cause. We\nare joyful without being able to give any reason for it. The mind\ncan rise above all these dispositions, affections, and humors; can\ngovern, cast out, and disperse them. Proof enough that a king lives\nin man--the breath of God, which is not taken from the earth, and to\nwhich all matter must yield if that power so wills.\"\n\nThe dog stretched his strong legs without any idea of the important\nquestion to which he had given occasion.\n\n\"Herr Frank,\" began Madam Siegwart earnestly, \"I have learned to\nrespect you, and have often wished that my son, at your years, would\nbe like you. I see now with painful astonishment that you defend\nopinions which contradict your former expressions, and the sentiments\nwe must expect from a Christian. Will you not be so good as to tell\nme how you have so suddenly changed your views?\"\n\n\"Esteemed madam,\" answered Frank, with emotion, \"I thank you for\nthis undeserved motherly sympathy; but I beg of you not to believe\nthat the opinions I expressed are my firm convictions. No, I have\nnot yet fallen so deep that for me there is no difference between\nman and beast. I can yet continue to believe that materialism is a\ncrime against mankind. On the other hand, I freely acknowledge that\nmy mind is in great trouble; that every firm position beneath my feet\ntotters; that I have been tempted to hold doctrines degrading to the\nindividual and destructive to society. I have been brought into this\ndifficulty by reading books whose seductive proofs I am not able to\nrefute. Oh! I am miserable, very miserable; my appearance must have\nshown you that already.\"\n\nHe looked involuntarily at Angela; he saw tears in her eyes; he bowed\nhis head and was silent.\n\n\"I see your difficulties,\" said the proprietor. \"They enter early or\nlate into the mind of every man. It is good, in such uncertainties\nand doubts, to lean on the authority of truth. This authority\ncan only be God, who is truth itself, who came down from heaven\nand brought light into the darkness. We can prove, inquire, and\nspeculate; but the keenest human intellect is not always free from\ndelusion. As there is in man a spiritual tendency which raises him\nfar above the visible and material, God has been pleased to lead and\ndirect that tendency by revelation, that man may not err. I consider\ndivine revelation a necessity which God willed when he created the\nmind. As the mind has an instinctive thirst after truth, God must, by\nthe revelation of truth, satisfy this thirst. Therefore is revelation\nas old as the human race. It reached its completion and perfection\nby the coming of the Lord, who said, 'I am the truth;' and this\nknowledge of the truth remains in the church through the guidance of\nthe Spirit of truth, till the latest generation. This is only my\nultramontane conviction,\" said Siegwart, smiling; \"but it affords\npeace and certainty.\"\n\nAngela had gone out, and now returned with a basket, in which lay a\nlittle dog, of a few days old, asleep. She set the basket carefully\ndown before Frank, so as not to awaken the sleeper.\n\n\"As you appreciate the full worth of striking proofs, I am glad to be\nable to place one before you, in the shape of this little dog,\" said\nshe, appearing desirous of cheering her dejected friend. But Frank\ndid not receive from her cheerful countenance either strength or\nencouragement, for he did not look up.\n\n\"This little dog is only eight days old,\" she continued; \"its eyes\nare not yet open; it can neither walk nor bark; it can only growl a\nlittle; and it does nothing but sleep and dream. I have noticed its\ndreams since the first day of its birth. You can convince yourself\nof its dreaming.\" She stooped over the basket and her soft hair\ndisturbed the sleeper.\n\nFor a moment Frank saw and heard nothing.\n\n\"See,\" she continued, \"how its little feet move, and how its body\njerks. Hear the low growl, and see the hairs round the mouth how they\ntwitch, how the nose shrinks and expands--all the same as in Hector.\nThe little thing knows nothing at all of the world--no more than\na child eight days old. We certainly, therefore, will not deceive\nourselves in assuming that all these movements are only muscular\ntwitchings; that neither the pup nor Hector dreams like a man.\"\n\nFrank first looked at the dog in great surprise, and then gazed\nadmiringly on Angela.\n\n\"O fraulein! how I thank you.\"\n\nShe appeared most lovely in his eyes. He suddenly turned toward her\nfather.\n\n\"Your house is a great blessing to me. It appears that the pure\natmosphere of religious conviction which you breathe victoriously\ncombats all dark doubts, as light dissipates darkness.\"\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[111] This argument is not conclusive, nor is it at all necessary.\nAnimals have memory; and there is no more reason why their waking\nsensations, emotions, and acts should not repeat themselves in dreams\nthan there is in the case of men. The difference between the soul of\nman and the soul of the brute is constituted by the presence of the\ngift of reason, or the faculty of knowing necessary and universal\ntruths in the former, and its absence in the latter.--ED. CATHOLIC\nWORLD.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAngela stood in her room. She knew that the spirit of unbelief\npervaded the world, taking possession of thousands and destroying\nall life and effort. She saw Richard threatened by this spirit, and\nfeared for his soul. She became very anxious, and sank on her knees\nbefore the crucifix and cried to heaven for succor.\n\nNight was upon all things. The black clouds, lowering deep and heavy,\nshut out all light from heaven. The wind swept the mountains, the\nforest moaned, and thunder muttered in the distance. Klingenberg\nsat before his folios. A fitful light glimmered from the room of\nRichard's father. Richard himself came home late, took his supper,\nand retired to his chamber; there he walked back and forth, thinking,\ncontending with himself, and speaking aloud. Before his door stood a\ndark figure--immovable and listening.\n\nIt knocked at the door of the elder Frank. Jacob, a servant who had\ngrown gray in the service of the house, entered. Frank received him\nwith surprise, and awaited expectantly what he had to say.\n\n\"We are all wrong,\" said Jacob. \"My poor young master has now spoken\nout clearly. He is not sick because of the foolish trash in the\nbooks. He is in love, terribly in love.\"\n\n\"Ah! in love?\" said Herr Frank.\n\n\"You should just have heard how he complains and laments that he is\nnot worthy of her. 'O Angela, Angela!' he cried at least a hundred\ntimes, 'could I only raise myself to your level and make myself\nworthy! But your soul, so pure, your character, so immaculate and\ngood, thrusts me away. I look up to you with admiration and longing,\nas the troubled pilgrim on earth looks up to the peace and grandeur\nof heaven.' This is the way he talked. He is to be pitied, sir.\"\n\n\"So--so--in love, and with Siegwart's daughter,\" said Frank sadly.\n\"The tragedy will change into comedy. Even if they were not so\nunapproachably high, but like other people on earth, my son should\nnever take an ultramontane wife.\"\n\n\"But if he loves her so deeply, sir?\"\n\n\"Be still; you know nothing about it. Has he lain down?\"\n\n\"Yes; or, at least, he is quiet.\"\n\n\"Continue to watch him. I must immediately make known to the doctor\nthis love affair. He will be surprised to find the philosopher\nchanged into a love-sick visionary.\"\n\n    TO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\n\n\nTRANSLATED FROM THE ITALIAN.\n\nTHE PHILOSOPHICAL DOCTRINES OF ST. AUGUSTINE COMPARED WITH THE\nIDEOLOGY OF THE MODERN SCHOOLS.\n\n     \"St. Thomas treats the peripatetic philosophy in such a\n     manner that Plato himself would have willingly accepted it as\n     Platonic.\"--_Gerdil_, Ed. Rom. t. ix. p. 58.\n\nBY THE REV. FATHER CARLO VERCELLONE, BARNABITE.\n\n\nINTRODUCTORY NOTE.\n\nThe _Dublin Review_ has recently commenced a series of articles with\nthe view of promoting philosophical unity among Catholic scholars,\nand of urging upon them the necessity of a combined effort against\nmodern scepticism. We are very glad that Dr. Ward has turned the\npowerful stream of his great literary engine in this direction. We\nare in perfect accord with him on this point, that false philosophy\nlies at the foundation of all the worst errors of the day, and that\nthese errors can only be effectually subverted by a true and sound\nphilosophy. We desire, therefore, as we have always desired and\nendeavored, to do what we can in this magazine, both to promote\nagreement among Catholics in sound philosophical principles, and to\nrefute those false principles in modern times so generally adopted,\nwhich are better designated by the term pure psychologism than\nby any other name that we know of. We desire to make it clearly\nknown, however, that by this term we intend only to designate the\nphilosophical doctrine of Des Cartes, and that which constitutes\nthe primary principle of the systems of Locke, Hamilton, Mansel,\nMill, Kant, Spencer, and other uncatholic writers. We call it pure\npsychologism, because it acknowledges no other first principle of\nthought and reason than the consciousness which the thinking subject\nhas or seems to have of itself under various phases or modifications.\nWe do not apply the term to any recognized school of Catholic\nphilosophy, or to the system of any respectable author whose works\nare in good repute in the church, and we believe that there is no\none among them who would not repudiate the epithet if applied to\nhis doctrine by an opponent. In the sense in which we have defined\nit, it is the heresy of nominalism carried to its utmost logical\nconsequences--that is, to complete subjecticism or scepticism in\nthe order of pure reason. Opposed to it is the realism sustained in\ntheology by every orthodox writer, and in philosophy by every one\nwhose philosophy is not in direct contradiction to his theology.\nThis realism is the affirmation of the objective entity, distinct\nfrom and superior to the thinking subject of that which reason\nimmediately apprehends as intelligible, necessary, self-evident,\nuniversal idea, together with the objective entity of that which is\nperceived as existing under sensible phenomena. It is the denial\nor doubt of this objective reality which nullifies the effect of\nall reasoning from principles or from evidence in proof of Catholic\ndogmas. We meet with a scepticism in regard to the real existence\nof God, of truth, of the external world, of the soul itself, which\nrenders logic vain. It is only a return to first principles and to a\nbelief in reason, therefore, which can give us a basis on which to\nreintegrate the rights of faith against the modern irrationalists\nand misologists--that is, haters of reason. The restoration and\nimprovement of philosophy is an object of primary importance to\nthe religious, moral, and political welfare of the world. It is in\nvain to think of looking for this improvement elsewhere than in\nthe investigation and development of the philosophical doctrine of\nPlato, Aristotle, the great fathers and doctors of the church, the\nscholastic metaphysicians, and their successors. As there is no\nreal progress in theological science except in the continuity of\nscholastic theology, so there is none in metaphysical science except\nin the continuity of scholastic philosophy. As, in theology, all\nsound Catholic authors work together harmoniously in defending and\npropugnating those essential doctrines which are clearly defined and\nuniversally admitted, at the same time discussing among themselves in\na friendly manner those opinions which are as yet only probable, so\nit should be in philosophy. The most important thing is to maintain\nthat philosophical truth in which all sound Catholic authors are\nagreed against the sceptical principles of modern sophists. Advance\nin the science of this truth; with that increase of clearness in\nconception and statement, and of unanimity in opinion, which is its\nnatural consequence; can only be gained by exhaustive study and\nargumentation of obscure and disputed questions, carried on in a\ntruly catholic, impartial, and conciliatory spirit.\n\nThe author of the article before us was one who labored most\nzealously in this direction. He was a learned Barnabite monk,\noccupying a high position among the erudite scholars of the Roman\ncourt and schools. He held the position of consultor to one of the\nRoman congregations, and was a member of the commission on oriental\naffairs, preparatory to the Council of the Vatican, at the time\nof his decease. The present essay was read before the Academy of\nthe Catholic Religion at Rome, on the 27th of August, 1863, and\npublished by the Propaganda press. We have taken it from an edition\nof F. Vercellone's _Dissertazioni Accademiche di Vario Argomento_,\npublished at Rome in 1864, and dedicated to Cardinal De Luca. There\ncan be no doubt of F. Vercellone's competency to discriminate in\nphilosophical matters between the doctrine prescribed by authority,\nand that which rests only on the judgment of eminent schools and\nauthors, and on the arguments by which this judgment is supported.\nHis position gave him unusual facilities for understanding the\nreason and true import of the judgments pronounced by the holy see\non philosophical questions, so that whatever he has written with a\nbearing on points which have been a subject of controversy among\nCatholic writers must have the greatest weight, and be entitled, at\nleast, to be considered as safe opinion. For this reason, as well\nas for the intrinsic value it possesses, we have thought the essay\nnow presented to the readers of THE CATHOLIC WORLD to be especially\nworthy of translation into English, and of careful study by all who\nare interested in the advancement of sound philosophy.--ED. CATH.\nWORLD.\n\n\nDISSERTATION.\n\nIn contradiction to that most grave and deplorable error by which\nmany unbelievers of our own day, more than those of an earlier\nperiod, love to confound religion with philosophy, we firmly hold\nthe principle which was efficaciously and unanimously sustained by\nthe ancient sages, pagan as well as Christian, that religion is the\nchief end to which philosophy is directed. If this were not so, we\nshould never have seen what forms one of the chief glories of the\nholy church. I mean, that the eagle of all human philosophy, the\nincomparable Augustine, claims the first and most glorious place\namong the renowned and venerable company of the holy fathers; I\nmean, that to the holy fathers generally belongs the merit of having\ninitiated the whole Christian world into a philosophy much more\nsevere, more legitimate, and more conclusive than that which was\npreviously a most rare privilege, one, also, more or less temporary\nand successive, of Cortona, of Elea, of Athens, of Alexandria, and\nof some other cities; so that not a few of these fathers have left\nus, in their works, an immense harvest for the benefit of philosophy,\npartly the fruit of their own genius and thought on various topics,\npartly in the form of precious monuments of that admirable wisdom of\nmore ancient times which was itself, as it existed among the heathen,\nnot altogether free from the influence of the true religion, and\ntherefore descended by a just title of inheritance to Christianity.\nAnd if philosophy revived and arose from its ashes two centuries,\nat least, before our language and literature, as this preceded\nby several hundred years those of foreign nations, to whom does\nthe praise more justly belong than to the renowned Benedictine\nof Aosta, a man whose genius and metaphysical power equalled his\nsanctity? If, besides, the philosophy of Aristotle was exhibited\nto the world in a Christian form--that is, purified, completed,\nrigorous, true, irrefutable, as Augustine and the other fathers\nhad done to the Platonic wisdom--to whom belongs the merit but to\na seraphic cardinal and an angelical Dominican? Perhaps the modern\ndepreciators of scholasticism, the chief enemies of the Catholic\nclergy, the persecutors of religious orders, have on their side\nphilosophers worthy to be compared with an Anselm, a Bonaventure, a\nThomas? Whoever has received from God the grace of appertaining to\nthe Catholic Church can easily see, with his own eyes, if he is not\naltogether a faster in science, how many and great services the true\nreligion renders to philosophy; by simply opening at random any\none of the sacred and precious volumes, either of the illustrious\nancient fathers or of the venerable princes of the schools. But\nthose of us who are honored by the privilege of representing in the\nchairs of instruction, or cultivating and illustrating in books the\nCatholic philosophy, have far greater reason to know and esteem\nthe masterpieces of the doctors and the fathers. Such can see, by\ncontrast with these, that what is called the modern philosophy,\nalthough sustained and kept on foot, here and there, by some authors\nof unusual and vast speculative ability, nevertheless never satisfies\nin the least any one who attempts to revive it, always lacking a\nvalid direction, always liable to sudden changes and vacillations--a\nsure sign of internal contradiction--agitated, discomposed, tormented\nby all the follies of the most mediocre and turbulent intellects.\nSuch persons as these, not observing that logic (permit me here to\nuse the language of St. Augustine) is properly the intellectual\njudgment of entire humanity, that it cannot be made anew, as it\ncannot either be unmade, but only obtained by inheritance and\namplified and extended by felicitous discoveries; not considering, I\nsay, any of these things, they believe that out of the present age\nthere ought to issue a new and magnificent rational philosophy; just\nas there certainly has issued a new and stupendous literature, a\ngeometry totally renovated and enlarged to most gigantic proportions,\nand a system of physics in great part constructed anew, corrected\nby experiments and elucidated by better hypotheses. But I pray and\nhope that the time of undeceiving has arrived, and that the Catholic\nmasters (the others will turn back when this happens) will apply\nthemselves in earnest to pick up again the thread of perfect and\nclassical tradition in science. This I come to-day to recommend; and\nI have confidence that I can better persuade men to undertake it\nby example, and, as it were, by means of something actually done,\nif you, with your accustomed benignity, will deign to bear with my\nproposition, and to give it the support and weight of your authority.\n\nI invoke the authority of this respectable assembly for an end I\nhave greatly at heart, and which seems to me of supreme importance\nboth to scientific advancement and religious edification; that is,\nto obtain that our philosophers, divided, not by their own fault\nbut by that of our ancestors of the last century, into ontologists\nand psychologists, should once for all give their attention and\nopen their eyes to the history too long belied and alone worthy\nof consideration--the history, I say, ever new, brilliant, and\nunsurpassable, of our own philosophy; and instead of consuming all\ntheir strength in a war among our excellent doctors--which it is\nhigh time to break off--should apply themselves rather to lay a\nnew grasp on the ancient wisdom of Catholicism with one hand, and\nwith the other to repulse and discomfit the audacious and execrable\ncrowd of modern errors. Assuredly, when the doctrine as well of\nthe fathers relatively to the Platonic system, as of the greater\nschoolmen to the metaphysics of Aristotle, shall have been first\nplaced in a better light and looked at in its multiform aspects\nby means of various and judicious investigations, it will be made\nuniversally manifest that the Platonism and Aristotelianism of the\nheathen were not in any wise identical with the ontologism and\npsychologism of the Catholic masters; that the war between the\nAcademics and Peripatetics was annihilated and put aside by the\nrigor and integrity of Catholic thought; that, in fine, the Plato\nof the holy fathers does not disdain the psychologism of St. Thomas,\nand that the Aristotle of the chief schoolmen does not reject the\nontologism of St. Augustine. Since this may appear to some as a thing\nwhich is more specious in assertion than capable of solid proof,\nI will draw out that exemplification of it which I have promised,\nand will come to facts; setting forth certain brief considerations\nin relation to ideology--that is to say, in relation to the most\ncontroverted theme and the most grave and obstinate question of the\nmodern schools in rational philosophy, especially among Catholics.\nI will describe and mark out, first, from original testimonies, the\nAugustinian conception, or, indeed, the genesis of his ideology;\nin the second place, I will search into the modern origin of the\ndivision between the ideology of the Catholic ontologists and that\nof the psychologists equally Catholic; finally, I will make evident\nhow the reconciliation of the children with the father and of the\nmodern scission with the ancient unity, suffices to consolidate the\nhope of a peace which all desire, and which, by combining the forces\nof our best minds, may render Catholic philosophy more harmoniously\noperative against the better united forces of the modern enemies of\ntruth.\n\nA man who in his whole life had done nothing except to write the\ntwenty-two books of _The City of God_ ought justly to be esteemed\nthe first and most admirable philosopher on the earth. Never was\nit better known or more loudly proclaimed than in our day, that\nthe philosophy of history carries off the palm on the field of\nhuman speculations. In recommending, therefore, the philosophical\nexcellence of St. Augustine, we can prove the justice of our opinion\nby this one argument, which is by itself sufficient. Let us compare\nwhatever modern writers have been able to do in this class of\nbooks with _The City of God_; if no work of modern times, can be\nfound either so original, so extensive, so erudite, or so profound\nas _The City of God_, written fourteen centuries ago, we must\nnecessarily agree that a return to this centre of Catholic wisdom is\nthe only method of giving impetus and improvement to philosophical\nspeculations. But we will not now extend our search so far as this.\nI will confine myself to the eighth book, which includes a notice\nand an appreciation of the different systems of the entire pagan\nphilosophy, and forms an introduction to that long and sublime\nparallel between natural reason and revelation, carried on throughout\nthe succeeding books in a manner equally novel and splendid, with a\nview to the illustration of the whole field of Catholic theology by\nthe highest efforts of human wisdom and the best sentiments of the\npagans themselves. The most vital part of the preliminary views,\nintroducing the subject of the eighth and succeeding books, is as\nfollows:\n\nThere are two points, he says, which must be firmly held: that\nCatholics ought not to deny that which is good in the philosophy of\nthe pagans; and that, on the other hand, they are bound to reject\nand refute all the falsehood contained in it. The first is proved by\nthat which the apostle says. _What is known_ of God is manifest _in\nthem; for God has manifested it to them. For the invisible things of\nhim are beheld from the constitution of the world, being understood\nby means of those things which are made, even his eternal power and\ndivinity._ Moreover, at the Areopagus, when he affirmed that _in him\nwe live and move and are_, he added, _as some also of your own poets\nhave said_. The second is proved by another text. _Beware lest any\none deceive you by philosophy and vain seduction according to the\nelements of the world._[112]\n\nThis being laid down, the duty of Catholic philosophers is that\nalready touched upon--the separation of the good gold in pagan\nphilosophy from the counterfeit; and as all the philosophy is divided\ninto three parts, _natural, rational, and moral_, \"we shall hold,\"\ncontinues St. Augustine, \"that natural philosophy for false which\ndoes not place God as the only principle and true creator of all\nother natures; we shall hold as false that rational philosophy which\ndoes not maintain that God alone is the intelligible reason of all\nminds; we shall repute as false that moral which does not prove that\nGod alone is that good which is worthy to be the end of a virtuous\nand perfect course of life.\" Now, the great multitude of pagan\nphilosophers was far distant from any recognition or profession of\nthe three heads we have given; scarcely was there a small number of\nprivileged persons among the disciples, I hardly know whether to say\nin preference of Plato or of Pythagoras, who made any near approach\nto Catholic truth, aided, in all probability, by some knowledge of\nJewish traditions.\n\n     \"No one having even a slight knowledge of these things is ignorant\n     that there are those philosophers called Platonists, from\n     their master, Plato.\"(1) \"Perhaps those who enjoy the greatest\n     celebrity as having the most clearly understood, and the most\n     closely followed Plato, who is with justice esteemed to be far\n     superior to the other philosophers of the Gentiles, hold a similar\n     opinion concerning God, namely, that in him is found the cause of\n     subsistence, and the reason of intelligence, and the regulating\n     principle of life.\"(2) \"If, therefore, Plato has said that the\n     wise man is one who is an imitator, a knower, and a lover of the\n     one true and supremely good God, by a participation with whom he\n     is blessed, what need is there of discussing the rest?\"(3) \"This\n     is, therefore, the reason why we prefer these to the others;\n     because while other philosophers have employed their talents and\n     efforts in searching out the causes of things, and what is the\n     method of learning and living, these, having the knowledge of\n     God, have found where is the cause of the constitution of the\n     universe, and the light of perceptible truth, and the fountain\n     whence we may drink felicity.\"(4) \"All those philosophers who\n     have held these opinions concerning the true and supreme God,\n     that he is the framer of those things which are created, and\n     the light of those things which are knowable, and the good of\n     those things which ought to be done, whether they are more\n     properly called Platonists, Ionics, or Italics, on account of\n     Pythagoras, we prefer to the others, and regard them as nearer to\n     ourselves.\"(5)[113]\n\nIt is very necessary, he says, to exclude all merely verbal\nquestions, since it is of things not words that he is treating. I\nwish to demonstrate that the philosophy of the pagans, when it is\ngood and true, accords wonderfully with Catholic truth, and gives\nrise naturally to Catholic philosophy--that is to say, the principal\nand most excellent philosophy of mankind; similarly, I wish to\ndemonstrate that, in so far as the pagan philosophy is in discordance\nand repugnance to Catholic truth, it is false, corrupt, and in need\nof better and more rational emendations.\n\nNo one, certainly, will exact of me that I make a minute examination\nof the innumerable and varying systems or opinions of pagan\nantiquity; it is enough that I prove my proposition by confining\nmyself to the best philosophy of all paganism. If I make good\nmy assertion respecting the best system of doctrine which ever\nappeared in Gentile philosophy, it will be evident enough that\nthe same assertion holds even more strongly in reference to other\nsystems, more or less inferior to this one. But this is certain,\nthat gentilism had no philosophy worthy to be compared, much less\npreferred, to the doctrine of those authors who acknowledged, and, in\nthe best manner of which they were capable, proclaimed the existence\nof one only supreme and true God, \"from whom we derive the principle\nof our nature, the truth of our knowledge, and the happiness of our\nlife.\"[114] I turn, therefore, to these authors with the purpose of\nexamining what is good and what is bad in them; \"but I find it more\nsuitable to discuss this subject with the Platonists, because their\nwritings are better known; for not only the Greeks, whose language is\npre\u00ebminent among the nations, have made them celebrated by greatly\nextolling their excellence; but the Latins also, moved by their\nexcellence or their renown, have studied them with greater ardor than\nany others, and by translating them into our language have made them\nstill more famous and renowned.\"[115]\n\nFrom all this, not a few consequences, whose value you above all\nothers are able to judge and appreciate, are immediately deduced with\na clearness greater even than we could desire. The first is, that the\nnoblest and greatest problem of modern philosophy, to wit, that the\nprotological and encyclop\u00e6dic principle cannot be placed elsewhere\nthan in the principle of creation, understood in conformity with the\ntradition of the Catholic Church; this principle, I say, was stated\nand solved amply, doubly, irrefutably, by St. Augustine; first, in\nhis _Soliloquies_, where one by one the partial principles of all the\nsciences are recovered; secondly, in this eighth book of _The City\nof God_, where the one only rule is laid hold of and exhibited by\nwhich to distinguish the only true system among various and opposite\nphilosophical systems. The second consequence is, that those persons\nmust cover their eyes with both hands who will not see and admit\nthat St. Augustine preferred the Platonic doctrine, and specifically\npreferred the Platonic or Pythagorean ideology, in the clearest\nterms in which it was possible for him to express his meaning. The\nthird is, that St. Augustine not only derived his ideology from the\nvery principle of creation, in the way of an inference more or less\nremote; but held it, rather, as an integral part of the principle\nitself, and made of it a second cycle, one lying between the first,\nwhich respects the origin of substances, and the third, which assigns\nthe good of operations. The final consequence is, that this second\ncycle, relating to rational intelligence, has been passed over by\nthe moderns; which may serve as a useful admonition to them, to\nconvince them thoroughly that no one can take St. Augustine's place\nin philosophy; that modern philosophy, with all its power, lags very\nfar behind the Augustinian speculations, and that if all other books\nare understood and studied to the neglect of St. Augustine, this will\nturn not to his disadvantage but to ours. Thus we see, by a most\nstriking example, that he alone not only saved, by the principle\nof creation, physics and ethics; but moreover, by that middle\ncycle, which is as it were central to the other two, saved rational\nphilosophy, without which the other two result less necessarily, and,\nso to speak, revert back to nullity.\n\nThe first of the consequences above enumerated was noted by me in\nthis place many years ago; and has been better exhibited for the\nbenefit of science by the illustrious F. Milone in his book entitled,\n_La Scuola di Filosofia Razionale Intitolata a S. Augustino_;\nwherefore I will abstain from considering it any further at present.\nI will restrict myself on this occasion to taking advantage of the\nother consequences which follow to a marvel from the ideology, but\nespecially from the genesis of the ideology of St. Augustine. Indeed\nwe have a great number of authors, beginning with the most exalted\nof all, that is, the seraphic and angelic doctors, and terminating\nwith writers who are still living in Italy, France, and Belgium, who\nhave collected from the Augustinian writings a most extensive list\nof disputed questions concerning ideology and human knowledge; but,\nabove all, we have two more remarkable collections in the works of\nthose two fathers of the Oratory of France, who are equal to any in\nlearning and merit--Thomassin and Martin.[116] That which may perhaps\nhave something new and original in it, in our own investigation, is\nthe more exact indication of the primitive fountain and source whence\nthese large streams take their issue; that source, namely, from which\nSt. Augustine derived the logical moment of that ideology which he\nbases, constructs, and amplifies with such great strength; which was\nthe concept, original with him, of that most vast and sublime theory\nof human cognitions formed by him alone. It appears to me that I\nhave made it clear to all, from those things which have been laid\ndown and the testimonies adduced, that St. Augustine concentrates\nand hinges the three branches of the natural encyclop\u00e6dia in one\nsole principle unfolded in three members: the principle being that\nof creation; the three members being physics, logic, and ethics;\nwhich are respectively the sole cause of existence, the sole light\nof knowledge, the sole end of virtue. From this every one can see\nand touch with the hand that St. Augustine found his ideology in the\nprinciple of creation, regarded it as a part of the principle of\ncreation, distinguished it from the two extreme cycles, and from the\ntwo opposite members of the principle of creation. If any one had\ndenied the ideology of St. Augustine in his time, St. Augustine would\nhave been bound to say that such a person denied the principle of\ncreation; if some one else had vaunted a contrary system of ideology,\nhe would have been bound to judge that system to be contrary to the\nprinciple of creation; if any one had demanded from St. Augustine the\nsubstantial formula of his ideology, the origin of that ideology,\nor the proofs of the stability, security, and irrefutable validity\nof that ideology, he would always have been obliged to answer by\nappealing to the universal principle established by reason and the\nCatholic faith, that is, to the principle of creation. Therefore\nthe genesis of the Augustinian ideology, if it had not been already\ntraced out or properly considered before to-day, would be now as\nclear and certain as the light, and with the eighth book of _The City\nof God_, we might predict that it would be immortal.\n\nIn scientific themes a twofold labor must be undergone; on the one\nhand, in ascertaining, and in elucidating on the other, the matters\nto be treated of; and the one who must apply himself rigorously\nto one part of this is rarely able at the same time to attend to\nthe other. This is the case with myself; for, having been obliged\nto point out the seat and position of the Augustinian ideology in\nthat encyclop\u00e6dic principle which I have above defined, I could not\nbring forward the second cycle except as implicated and restricted\nby the other two, the first and third. I am glad to be able now\nto supply, at least partially, this defect, by alleging one quite\npeculiar testimony, which, fortunately, leaves in the background\nthe two cycles with which we are not concerned, and brings forward\nwith admirable distinctness the one which specially concerns us in\nideology.\n\n     \"Now, those authors whom we with justice prefer to all others,\"\n     (says St. Augustine, speaking of the Platonists, Pythagoreans, and\n     others of the best stamp,) \"have distinguished those things which\n     are perceived by the mind from those which are attained by the\n     sense; not taking from the senses those things for which they have\n     a capacity, or granting to them what is beyond their capacity.\n     But the light of minds by which all things are learned [see here\n     clearly the second cycle] they affirmed to be God himself, by whom\n     all things were made.\"\n\n_Lumen autem mentium esse dixerunt ad discenda omnia eumdem ipsum\nDeum a quo facta sunt omnia._[117] The principle of creation,\nthen, in so far regards our rational intelligence as it places on\nthe one hand the sensible perception we have of it, and on the\nother the intelligence which we have in addition as our great\nprerogative. Rational cognition comes from the conjunction of\nintellect with sensibility; and therefore the greater part of the\nancient philosophers, grossly taking our cognition for an act tied\nto a mere sensible perception, and badly mixing up sense with\nintellect and the sensible with the intelligible, knew little or\nnothing of the contra-position of the one to the other. Some of them,\ngiving every thing to the sensible, fell into Epicureanism, into\nmaterialism, into atheism, denying God, and thus the principle of\ncreation; others, paying attention only to the intelligible, rushed\ninto fatalism and pantheism, denying created substances, and thus\nagain the principle of creation. These are the philosophers whom we\nCatholics cannot prefer to the others; whom St. Augustine says, _non\nprodest excutere_, it is lost time to discuss them. But those, on the\ncontrary, _quos merito ceteris anteponimus_, began from a fundamental\ndistinction between the intelligible and the sensible, and therefore\nalso between the intelligence and the sensibility; _discreverunt\nea qu\u00e6 mente conspiciuntur ab eis qu\u00e6 sensibus attinguntur_;\nnor did they take away from the senses their proper office and\nnecessary value in the act of defending as their principal aim the\nintelligence, which is so true that they regarded rational cognition\nas a sort of marriage, and a true co\u00f6peration, of the mind with the\nsenses. If, then, concludes the most glorious father of Catholic\nphilosophy, the best sages of antiquity, and we with them admit and\ngive value to the sensibility, that is necessary in order to maintain\nthe principle of creation, since otherwise all the substances created\nby God, which are sensible natures, disappear. Likewise if the same\nsages, and we as much as or even more than they, admit and defend\nintelligence, this is of equal if not greater necessity, in order to\nkeep the same principle of creation. In fact, with the sensibility\nalone, _non est discere_, we can learn nothing, as the brutes, _certo\nnusquam discunt_ certainly never learn any thing; but only minds\nendowed with intelligence, who have as a light _ad discenda omnia,\neumdem ipsum Deum a quo facta sunt omnia_--as a light for learning\nall things, that same God himself who created all things. Since,\ntherefore, by the principle of creation, God is the only light of\nall minds, so, by denying to minds that divine, creative light, all\nrational intelligence is denied, and the principle of creation is\ntotally destroyed, just as much as by taking away all substances.\n\nBut perhaps some one of you, considering that St. Augustine had been\ninstructed in the Platonic doctrine, as we read in the _Summa_ of\nAquinas, will remain doubtful whether the genesis which I have traced\nout is not that of the Platonic or Pythagorean ideology, whichever\nwe may choose to call it, rather than of the Augustinian. I think\nthat I have in the preceding portion of this dissertation cited from\nthe original texts enough of St. Augustine's own expressions, which\nalways revert to these constant formulas, _qui nobiscum sentiunt,\nquos merito ceteris anteponimus_, to render it certainly and for\never incontestable that in these passages it is St. Augustine who\n_cum istis sentit_; it is he who _hos ceteris anteponit_; and by\nconsequence he it is who embraces, explains, and defends the Platonic\nideology, amending it where it sins, and supplying to it what it\nlacks. But, conceding that there is a difficulty here in our way,\ncorroborated by an expression of the angelic doctor, I wish it to be\nnoted distinctly that I do not resolve it principally by alleging any\nsolitary expression whatever of the angel of the schools himself, but\nby a series of formul\u00e6 as distinctly marked in their significance as\nthey are harmoniously located in the structure of his thought and of\nhis boundless learning. Whenever there shall be for the first time\nproduced a copious and well-arranged history of our philosophy, we\nshall see among other things relating to that most glorious Aquinas,\na fact which gives lustre to his works, and is a memorable one in\nhuman philosophy; and the fact, which is one completely manifest\nand palpable, is this, that while he pays so little deference to\nthe Platonic philosophy, while he habitually interprets the ideas\nof Plato only in the sense ascribed to them by Aristotle and other\nphilosophers, the most hostile to him; while, consequently, he does\nnot notice the Platonic ideology except to reject and confute it, he\nnevertheless gives us to understand, and professes a hundred times,\nthat he has nothing to oppose to the ideology of St. Augustine; that\nhe agrees that it is not the secondary truths which serve as the rule\nof our judgments, but rather the one only and primary truth which is\nthe divine light and God himself; that he agrees that our soul is\nan image of God principally by the intelligence which we possess,\ninto which the light of that first and one truth falling produces\nthere an image of the intelligible things, as like as possible in\nthe spiritual order to that figure which bodies cast upon a mirror\nby virtue of the exterior material light; that he agrees that our\nintellect is like wax which receives the impression of the primary\ntruth as if from a seal; that he agrees that those universals from\nwhich metaphysics works under the form of principles, mathematics\nunder the form of axioms, morals under the form of unchangeable,\nimperishable laws, these universals, (_questi generali_,) I say,\nand nothing else, St. Thomas admits to be eternal, in the eternal\nlight of the eternal truth, which is the light of the divine\nintelligence.[118] Is there any great need of certifying that these\nformul\u00e6 to which St. Thomas agrees are not a single one of them taken\nfrom Aristotle, but are without exception taken from St. Augustine\nhimself? Therefore St. Thomas, who had to treat the ideology of\nPlato, as it was presented to him, as absurd, sustains and honors as\nmuch as we could wish the Augustinian ideology; that is to say, he\nmakes Augustinian and not Platonic the ideology of the eighth book of\n_The City of God_.[119]\n\nWhat should hinder us from passing for an instant to those other\nbooks altogether similar to this one, _Of the Trinity_, _Of the\nLiteral Interpretation of Genesis_, and the _Confessions_? The last\nfive books of _The Trinity_ are, indeed, a complete ideology which\nfor novelty, sublimity, insight, and scientific force cannot be\nequalled in the whole range of human science. I will cite only one\npassage, however, which amid so many others is especially noteworthy,\nthat one, namely, in which Augustine protects and defends, (who would\nbelieve it?) against Plato himself, that ideology which is nowadays\ncalled Platonic. Here it may be seen in express words.\n\n     \"Plato, that noble philosopher, ... related that a certain boy who\n     was asked some questions, I know not precisely what, in geometry,\n     answered like a person extremely skilled in that branch of study;\n     whence he attempted to prove that the souls of men have lived here\n     before they were in their present bodies.... But we ought rather\n     to believe that the nature of the intellectual mind was so created\n     that, being naturally co\u00f6rdinated by the Creator to intelligible\n     things, it sees them in a certain incorporeal light _sui generis_,\n     in the same way that the bodily eye sees those things which are\n     circumjacent to it in this corporeal light for which it has been\n     created with a natural capacity and congruity.\"[120]\n\nThis passage being only an incident in connection with the whole\ncontext, we find him saying a little above that this incorporeal\nlight is nothing else than the truth; that these intelligible things\nare the eternal reasons, and a little below, that this light and\nthese things are \"something eternal and unchangeable;\" that our soul\nis made naturally in the image of God, inasmuch as \"it can use reason\nand intelligence to know and form a conception of God,\" and as noted\nin another place, \"although the mind is not of the same nature with\nGod, nevertheless the image of that nature which is more perfect than\nany other must be sought and found in that part of our nature which\nis more perfect than any other.\"[121]\n\nJoining together and recapitulating all this in the _Confessions_, he\nsays in formal terms:\n\n     \"Behold how much I have wandered about in my memory seeking thee,\n     O Lord! and I have not found thee outside of it; ... for where\n     I have found the truth, there I have found my God, the truth\n     itself.\"[122]\n\nMoreover, in those most stupendous books of the _Literal\nInterpretation of Genesis_, he undertakes to distinguish partitively\nthe vision in the light of the truth from all the other manners of\nvision conceded to the nature of the human soul, and terminates with\na final contrast which presents the fundamental opposition between\nthe intelligent soul and its intellectual light in these words:\n\n     \"Even in that kind of things seen by intellectual vision,\n     (_intellectualium visorum_, understand here that which he is wont\n     to call _intellectum rationale_,) those which are seen in the\n     soul itself, as virtues, the contraries of which are vices, are\n     one thing; ... the light itself by which the soul is illuminated,\n     so that it is able to see in a true intellectual apprehension\n     all things either in itself (rational knowledge) or in that\n     (intellectual knowledge;) for that indeed is God himself; but this\n     created existence, although made rational and intelligent (these\n     two terms correspond to the two members, _either in itself, or in\n     that_) after his image, when it attempts to gaze upon that light\n     trembles with weakness, and can do but little; yet it derives\n     from thence whatever it does understand according to its ability.\n     When, therefore, it is rapt into that region, and, being withdrawn\n     from the senses, is brought more directly face to face with that\n     vision, not by any local presence in space, but in a manner\n     peculiar to itself; it even sees in a way superior to its ordinary\n     power that by the aid of which it also sees whatsoever it does see\n     in itself by understanding.\"[123]\n\nThe few moments which remain to me will barely suffice for the\nbriefest possible exposition of the contrast between the belligerent\nideology of modern Catholics and the certain and incontestable\nideology founded by the prince of all our philosophers, of which\nI have just given a sketch in his own words. I feel bound to say\none thing here which has probably not been attended to, but is\nnevertheless not the less true or the less demonstrable to a wise\ncritical judgment. However much it is to be lamented that the modern\nphilosophy of the Catholic masters, through a miserable obliviousness\nof St. Augustine and St. Thomas, has brought once more into vogue\nand patronized so long, in great measure so blindly also, the Gentile\ndispute between the ideology of Plato and that of Aristotle; this\nmost obstinate war, more bitterly waged in our day than ever before,\nhas no right to be considered as excusable. Whoever will look a\nlittle into the interior of this matter, will be persuaded that\nthe great mass of questions of this kind should rather be regarded\nas vain and superfluous, than as founded on unreasonable or unjust\nopinions. The Catholic ontologists and the Catholic psychologists\nsustain one and the same thing in two contrary parties; but that\nwhich all in common wish to maintain appears to the members of one\nparty to be badly comprehended and worse defined by those of the\nother. All say unanimously, We ought to hold that theory alone as\ngood and perfect in which is maintained the capital distinction\nbetween God and his creation; in which is firmly established the\nknowledge of God on the one hand, and that of things created on the\nother; in which neither the reality of the divine nature, which is\nthe principle of every other reality, nor the reality of that which\nis created, apart from which that principle itself is no longer\nsuch, and all knowledge is overturned and destroyed from summit to\nfoundation, is compromised. This all profess and maintain. But when\nit comes to the definition of a theory sufficient for such a lofty\nscope, the one party divide themselves from the other through the\ndiverse aspect in which they regard, on the one side, that most\nsublime and universal truth which they hold as anterior to the mind,\nand, on the other side, the multitude of created natures which are\nperceived by the internal or external sensible faculty. To make my\nmeaning clearer, there are two points to be made secure in ideology:\nthe truth by which all things which are true exist; and the true\nthings which furnish the argument by which their principle, that\nis, the truth, is proved. The psychologists observe the following\nmaxim, which is irreprehensible. It is impossible to prove the\nexistence of the creator without asserting and proving the existence\nof the creation; since we cannot attain to the scientific notion\nof the truth except by the medium of the knowledge of actualities.\nThe ontologists contemplate the matter from another entirely\ndiverse side, reasoning with equal evidence in this form. To know\na thing to a certain extent, is to distinguish to the same extent\nwhether it be true or false; but we must necessarily distinguish\nwhether a thing be true or false by the light of truth--_the truth,\nhowever, is God_; therefore, without an interior and divine light,\nneither man nor angel can know any thing whatsoever. But take\ncare, exclaim the psychologists, that you do not by such a method\ndestroy physical cognition; in fact, if every thing is known in the\ntruth, which is eternal and immutable, created things, which are\nmutable and temporal, cannot be known at all. You ought rather to\ntake much greater care, reply the ontologists, lest by your mode\nof reasoning you deny and destroy metaphysical cognition; in fact,\nthe universal cannot be any kind of created thing, since every\ncreature is completely individual and particular; wherefore, it\nfollows, from your statement, that the universals are nothing either\nphysically or metaphysically. The psychologists rejoin by saying,\nGod in creating things renders them knowable; therefore, when we\nknow them, this comes from the fact that they are thus created--that\nis, precisely knowable. The ontologists with equal force respond,\nWe agree entirely that created things are knowable because they\nare created; but since they would not be created except for the\ndivine action of the creator, so they would not be any more knowable\nexcept for the divine action which creates their knowledge in the\nhuman mind; wherefore, in the same way as the drawing of a substance\nfrom nothing requires omnipotence, which is entirely from God, the\ngiving of intelligence to a created spirit requires the truth, which\nis entirely from God, and is God himself. But, reply again the\npsychologists, you are obliged to admit the reality of the created\napart from the divine reality; therefore, also, its cognoscibility.\nAnd you, reply the ontologists, ought further to maintain the\ncontra-position of intelligence to sensibility. We, who profess that\nthe intelligibility of things consists in a divine light, easily\nsecure the contra-position of intelligence and sensibility by means\nof the contra-position of God and created substances visible in\nthe creation; whereas, taking away the divine light, the creation\nalone remains to form the object of the sensibility on one part,\nand the object of intelligence on the other. But in that case it\nis impossible to secure one's self scientifically, logically,\ndemonstratively, as is necessary, from confounding intellect with\nsense, which results--note it well!--in the denial of the creation\nof man itself, and the reduction to nullity not less of revealed\nreligion than of natural morality.[124]\n\nI will not proceed any further, but will leave it to the historians\nof Catholic philosophy to continue, if they see fit, this chain of\nparallel arguments, which describe the whole cause of combat between\nthe two great modern schools. The sketch I have given will, I hope,\nsuffice to convince you, first of all, of that which is chiefly\ncommendable, honorable, and worthy of attention in this dispute,\nwhich, in many other respects, is so excessively wearisome. I have\ndemonstrated that the two contrary parties look toward one and the\nsame end--which is, to make valid in ideology the Catholic principle\nof creation; that both govern themselves by the same criterion--which\nis, the genuine and Catholic interpretation of the principle of\ncreation, more or less known naturally, and perfectly defined in\nCatholic doctrine. All this is due to the praise of the two schools,\nand to the glory of that philosophy to which both pride themselves\nin belonging. This, however, would go but a little way toward the\nattainment of that peace at the present day so necessary, and always\nso desirable. Since, therefore, all truths are in agreement with\neach other, and are harmoniously united in one only and self-same\ntruth, I have consequently wished to demonstrate by actual proofs\nthat, aside from human weakness and the errors of certain teachers\non both sides, the living and substantial arguments on either side\nwhich are brought forward in an opposite sense are not really opposed\nto each other, being drawn from the difference of terms, and the\nfact that they apprehend and contemplate from opposite sides that\ntruth which is, above all others, universal and comprehensive in the\nprinciple common to both parties. This consideration, most powerful\nfor promoting the peace we all desire and recommend, ought so much\nthe more to be held as good and sound, as the Augustinian formula\nin which all the force of Catholic philosophy is concentrated with\nthe most luminous evidence, appears divided into two parts, and\ndistributed between the argumentation of the two opposite schools.\nFor, while the one sustains that first clause which forbids to take\naway from the senses their proper capacity--_neque sensibus adimentes\nid quod possunt_--the other stands firmly by the last clause, which\ndeclares that the light of the mind is God, _lumen autem mentium ad\ndiscenda omnia esse ipsum Deum a quo facta sunt omnia_. But would\nit not be a great fault of the ideologists, to whatever school they\nmight belong, if they should wilfully dismember and destroy the\norganism of Christian protology? Is it, perhaps, not true that the\nCatholic masters of modern psychologism and ontologism all completely\nagree in that maxim, as new in itself as it is felicitous for the\nwhole human encyclop\u00e6dia, and clearly distinct to us?\n\n     \"The whole discipline of wisdom pertaining to the instruction\n     of man is the correct discrimination of the creator from the\n     creation; the worship of the one as possessing supreme dominion,\n     and the acknowledgment of the simple subjection of the other.\"[125]\n\nLet us then bring these things back to their origin, and the\nphilosophers of our times will recognize that they have much the\nadvantage in antiquity and merit of the philosophers of another class\nwho are the chiefs of natural science; the psychologists will observe\nthat they have a psychological formation in St. Thomas against which\nCatholic ontologism cannot have any just complaints; on the other\nhand, the ontologists will observe that there is an ontological form\nin St. Augustine to which nothing is wanting of that which Catholic\npsychologism can hold as correct. The time is past for beginning\nphilosophy over again _da capo_; whoever wishes to participate in it,\nlet him gather it from the most choice, weighty, and authoritative\ntraditions. That peace which for so many ages it has been impossible\nto conclude, was already made centuries ago. There was no ideological\ndispute, (whoever maintained that there was?)--no! there was only\ndiversity of method of exposition and of language, between St.\nAugustine and his most faithful disciple, who was in every sense\nthe Angelical; and this was wrought by the infinite Providence, so\nthat Catholic intellect might remake philosophy twice over by the\ntwo opposite ways, from intelligence to sense, and from sense to\nintelligence. It is a shame to mention the Platonists with dispraise,\nwhen our glory is a Catholic Plato; it is a vile thing to lose one's\nself in reproaches against Aristotle, after that a Catholic Aristotle\nhas filled the whole church with the fame of his wisdom.\n\nThe learned Caramuele affirmed that if that ancient Plato of\nheathenism could have seen the Aristotle who diverged from him so\nwidely, as St. Thomas re-cast him, corrected and entirely altered,\nhe would have been forced to applaud him, and to declare himself\nsatisfied with him. Cardinal Sigismund Gerdil announced and\ndemonstrated[126] that in the ideology of St. Thomas more than one\nprinciple is encountered wonderfully conformed to the principles of\nSt. Augustine. The _Scuola di Filosofia Razionale_ of the excellent\nF. Milone is for this reason more precious and valuable in my eyes,\nthat he, contrary to Gioberti, who is only one among numberless\nothers, marks out a theory of peace between the ontological and\npsychological method, between St. Augustine and St. Thomas. It is\na matter of the most transparent certainty that, if the ontologism\nof Catholic authors is reduced to a profession of the philosophical\ndoctrines of St. Augustine, well understood and better exposed and\nelucidated, nothing can be more secure and more respectable among\nCatholics than ontologism; nor is it less certain and transparent\nthat, if the psychologism of Catholic authors turns to a maintenance\nof the philosophical doctrines of St. Thomas, well and symmetrically\narranged, and with fine language reduced to science and made\naccessible to our age, nothing can be more adapted to our time, or\nmore suitable, or more irreprehensible than the same psychologism.\nLet Catholic philosophers follow the example of the holy church, who,\nsince the time of St. Augustine and St. Thomas, has turned toward no\none a regard more steady and fixed than to Augustine and Thomas.\n\nIn the name of these most authoritative and most blessed doctors,\nI pray for Catholic philosophy the just and desired tranquillity,\nwhich can only be obtained from a direction less arbitrary in the\nselection of questions, and more capable of embracing all the grand\nproblems. Ideology distinguishes naturally between the objective and\nthe subjective; in it the ontologists are accustomed to establish\nwith sound reasoning the objectivity of the truth, and likewise the\npsychologists the subjectivity of signs and knowledge. If both the\none and the other desire to become victors in such a grand combat,\nlet them make place, as they ought, the ontologists to larger\nconsiderations respecting the created, _non adimentes sensibus id\nquod possunt_; and the psychologists to a greater security of the\nintelligibility of things, _non dantes sensibus ultra quam possunt_.\nThen, the choice will be free to all to select between the two\nopposite methods, and they can, in respect to that divine light,\n_quo illustratur anima_, profess indifferently the original formula\nof Catholic ontologism in St. Augustine, or the imitative exposition\nof Catholic psychologism in St. Thomas. With these peace-makers, so\nglorious, so well-deserving, so venerable, it appears to me that we\nought at once to treat of peace. May these saints aid from heaven my\nhumble undertaking!\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[112] Rom. i. 19, 20; Acts xvii. 28; Colos. ii. 8. These texts\nare given according to St. Augustine's rendering. This gives\n\"a constitutione mundi\" instead of \"a creatura mundi,\" as in\nthe Vulgate. The author, following St. Augustine, Tertullian,\nand Cardinal Tolet, understands St. Paul to say that God has\nbeen manifested to men through his works ever since the world\nbegan.--_Abridged from the note of the author._\n\n[113] _De Civ. Dei_, lib. viii.; (1) cap. 1; (2) cap. 4; (3) cap. 5;\n(4) cap. 10; (5) cap. 9. This last quotation is abridged.--_Trans._\n\n[114] _Civ. Dei_, lib. viii. cap. 9.\n\n[115] _Ibid._, lib. viii. cap. 10.\n\n[116] Thomassin, _Dogm. Theol. de Deo_. Martin, _S. Aur. Aug.\nHipponen. Epis. Philosophia_. Ed. Jul. Fabre. Parisiis. 1863.\n\n[117] _Civ. Dei_, lib. viii. c. 7.\n\n[118] Nothing is more noteworthy than this passage of the _Summa_.\n(Pars Prima, Qu. 15, a. 1, ad. 1.) Et sic etiam Aristoteles, lib. 3.\nMetaphys. improbat opinionem Platonis de ideis, secundum quod ponebat\neas per se existentes, non in intellectu. In many other places, St.\nThomas cites the doctrines of Plato on the faith of Aristotle. In\nsupport of the allegations of the text, consult the _Summa_. P. 1,\nqu. 16, a. 6. _Ibid._ ad. 1, et qu. 12, a. 2, et qu. 88, a. 3, ad. 1.\n_Ibid._ qu. 84, a. 5. _Ibid._ qu. 16, a. 7.\n\n[119] F. Milone, in his Neapolitan edition, adds the following note:\n\"Throughout this entire passage we find a mixture of the Platonic and\nthe Augustinian, (p. 1, qu. 15, a. 3,) where St. Thomas appears to\nintend to collect from St. Augustine the true meaning of Plato, or\nagain to remand to Plato the admirable design of the ideology of St.\nAugustine. Sed contra, ide\u00e6 sunt rationes in mente divina existentes,\nut per Augustinum patet; sed omnium qu\u00e6 cognoscit, Deus habet\nproprias rationes; ergo omnium qu\u00e6 cognoscit habet ideam. Respondeo\ndicendum, quod cum ide\u00e6 a Platone ponerentur principia cognitionis\nrerum et generationis ipsarum, ad utrumque se habet idea prout in\nmente divina ponitur. Et secundum quod est principium factionis\nrerum, exemplar dici potest, et ad practicam cognitionem pertinet;\nsecundum autem quod principium cognoscitivum est, proprie dicitur\nratio, et potest etiam ad scientiam speculativum pertinere. There is\nnot, I say, in all our own Marsilius, a more respectful and favorable\ncomment upon Plato; but the key is found in that observation on\nwhich the whole thing depends, _ut per Augustinum patet_.\" Worthy\nof consideration under this head are also the articles 3, 4, and 5,\nunder the 79th question.\n\n[120] _De Trin._ lib. xii. \u00a7 24. _Vide etiam Retract._ lib. 1 cap. 4.\nArnob. _Contra Gentes_, lib. 11. \u00a7 14. Tertull. _De Anima_, cap. 24\nand 28.\n\n[121] _De Trin._ lib. xii. \u00a7 2, 3, 5, 12, 23. _Ibid._ lib. xv. \u00a7 10.\n_Ibid._ lib. xiv. \u00a7 6, 11.\n\n[122] Lib. x. cap. 24.\n\n[123] _De Gen. ad Litt._ lib. xii. cap. 31, \u00a7 59.\n\n[124] The _Civilta Cattolica_, (series v. vol. viii. 585) seems\nto have wished to continue the series of these opposing arguments\nof the antagonistic schools, where, in the name of those whom I\ncall psychologists, it speaks thus: \"To maintain the essential\ndistinction between the sense and the intellect, it is not necessary\nto attribute to the latter the immediate perception of a divine\nobject, as, to maintain the essential distinction between the body\nand the spirit, it is not necessary to ascribe to the second a\ndivine existence. It suffices that as the spirit is differentiated\nfrom the body by the immateriality of its essence, so the intellect\nshould be differentiated from the sense by the immateriality of its\ncognoscitive power.\" If it be so, the ontologists will respond, that\nin the above passage the word _sense_ signifies only that with which\nwe perceive bodies; so that to sense is given as its term or object\nthat which is corporeal, and to intellect that which is spiritual.\nNow, S. Augustine had at first adopted the same language; but\nafterward he recognized its imperfection, and in his _Retractations_\n(lib. i. cap. 1, 3, 4) declares that the word sense ought to include\nalso the _intimate sense_ with which the soul perceives what passes\nwithin itself. Then this has as object that which is spiritual.\nTherefore the spirituality of its object cannot any longer serve to\ndifferentiate intellect from sense. (Vid. _La Scuola_ of F. Milone,\np. 32, et seq.)\n\n[125] St. Aug. lib. 83, Qu\u00e6st. ad qu. 81.\n\n[126] _Difesa di Malebr._ diss. prelim. \u00a7 25.\n\n\n\n\nMY CHRISTMAS GIFT.\n\n\n    On the eve of Christmas Day,\n    Ere the moon began to rise,\n    I fell to dreaming.\n    When a fairy did display,\n    Spread before my wond'ring eyes,\n    Bright jewels gleaming\n    Like the stars at night.\n    Then to me--\"Choose which to send\n    As a present to your friend,\n    And thus your friendship plight.\"\n    Ah! how rare the jewels seemed\n    Ere those words were spoken.\n    After, I no longer deemed\n    Gems a fitting token.\n    \"Jewels may her garments grace:\n    'Tis not there that I would place\n    Something to remind her thought\n    Of the friendship of my heart.\n    Not all gems that may be bought\n    Would of that be counterpart.\"\n    \"Hoity, toity!\" said the fairy,\n    \"This is extraordinary!\n    Don't you know 'tis customary?\"\n    \"Yes,\" said I; \"but on this morn\n    Could I but her _heart_ adorn\n    With some little gift of mine,\n    Then 'twould have a fitting shrine.\"\n    Gathering up her jewels rare,\n    Said the fairy, \"Don't despair.\n    Send her what her heart can wear.\"\n    Reaching out my eager hand--\n    \"Have you in all fairy-land\n    Such a boon at my command?\"\n    Raising up her eyes to heaven--\n    \"Only there such gifts are given.\n    Gifts that make the heart more fair\n    God bestows. The price--a prayer.\"\n\n    God knows the prayer is said, my friend.\n    I doubt not He the gift will send.\n\n\n\n\nA HERO, OR A HEROINE?\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI.\n\nGOOD-NIGHT.\n\nDuring the latter part of Margaret's stay at Shellbeach, the doctor\nnoticed that he never saw her alone; and as formerly he had observed,\nwith amusement, Miss Spelman's many admirable reasons for leaving\nthe room, he imagined that Miss Lester had been the cause of the\nchange. \"She wants to prevent my going too far,\" he said to himself;\nand then with a rather bitter laugh, \"She need not be afraid.\" He\noften met her riding alone on the Marchioness, or caught sight of\nher at sunset on the beach with her little dog, but they had very\nlittle satisfactory conversation of any kind together. Once or twice\nshe made allusions before him to a \"period of importance,\" or to a\n\"momentous decision,\" or to the \"turning-point of her existence,\"\nwhich was at hand; but it was always as a joke, and she seemed to\nenjoy his surprise and embarrassment.\n\n\"She does not want me to forget July 18th, the date of our absurd\nagreement,\" he said mentally. \"What a fool I was to allow such a\nnonsensical arrangement! I wish I were well out of the scrape.\"\n\nAt last, on the evening of the appointed day, Miss Spelman gave a\nlittle tea-party and Dr. James was present. He had resolved that\nhe would decline; but he was curious to see what Miss Lester would\ndo and say, and so, at some inconvenience to himself, he made his\nappearance among the guests. He happened once to have expressed his\ndislike to pink bonnets, and indeed to that color for any part of a\nlady's dress; and lo, on this occasion Margaret came to meet him,\nradiantly smiling in rose-colored muslin, with delicate roses to\nmatch in her hair and on her breast! It was extremely becoming, the\ndoctor perceived, and he saw also that her spirits were at their\nheight. He inwardly groaned at the prospect of the evening before\nhim. It was pleasant, however; even he acknowledged it. Margaret's\nmischievous remarks were few, and she seemed to have the power of\ndrawing people out and making every one appear his best; every one,\nthe doctor felt, except himself. In vain he exerted himself to be\nagreeable and unconscious; he was grave and preoccupied. The thought\nof that dreadful letter which he had promised to write that very\nevening weighed on his mind, and he was perplexed by doubts and\nquestions concerning it, himself, and Miss Lester. Was he not taking\nher words too literally? Had she the remotest idea of writing to him?\nor would it not end in his making an utter fool of himself? No; never\nbefore had she been so handsome, so gay, so universally kind. Little\nMiss Spelman caught the infectious cordiality, and beamed upon her\nguests with overflowing hospitality.\n\nThe windows and doors stood open, the sweet breath of roses was in\nthe air, and suddenly from the garden came the sound of instruments.\nA serenade! Miss Spelman and every one looked at each other in\nsurprise, for the music was not such as was obtainable in Sealing.\nBut a glance at Margaret convinced all that she was the author of\nthis unexpected pleasure. She said in a low voice to her aunt, \"This\nis my contribution to the general festivity;\" and it was indeed\na delightful addition. The band played at intervals through the\nevening, the music varying from grave to gay, from solemn to pathetic.\n\nThe Shellbeach tea-parties were early affairs, and at ten o'clock\nthe guests reluctantly departed, almost all driving home to Sealing,\nand a few from the neighboring houses walking slowly along the road,\nwith the sweet notes of the music still in their ears. Dr. James\nlingered. Why, he could not have told; and it was with a start that,\nturning away from the window, he saw that he was the very last. He\napologized; but Miss Selina coming to him, kindly took his hand,\n\n\"You are a true friend, you know, Dr. James,\" she said, \"and should\nfeel yourself at home.\"\n\nMargaret was at the door, bidding good-night to the last guests, when\nthe doctor, after warmly shaking Miss Spelman's hand, came into the\nhall for his hat. She walked with him down the little path to the\nfront gate, while the air of the \"Last Rose of Summer\" came to them\nfrom the garden, and for the first time that evening he saw that her\nface was serious.\n\n\"I would like to walk home with you, in this lovely moonlight,\" she\nsaid.\n\n\"Well, will you not come? I will gladly accompany you back.\"\n\n\"No; there will not be time. You forget that you and I have an\nengagement at eleven o'clock this evening.\" Then, as he did not know\nhow to reply, she continued, \"I shall send you a note, to-morrow\nmorning, at seven, and the boy will bring me back, not an answer, for\nit will not be that, but a corresponding note from you.\"\n\n\"Yes, Miss Lester, it shall be ready, if you say so.\"\n\n\"I do. Good night, Dr. James. Give me your hand; we are friends, are\nwe not?\"\n\n\"I believe we are. Yes, Miss Lester, I know we are friends to-night.\"\n\n\"And we shall be friends to-morrow; remember that I say so.\nGood-night.\"\n\nShe leaned on the little gate, and watched him as he walked away\nwithout once turning back. The music stopped, and a voice was heard\ncalling, \"Margaret!\" She slowly walked into the house, and, sitting\nquietly down by her aunt on the sofa, told her that Jessie Edgar's\nmarriage was fixed for the first day of September, and she was going\nto Newport, to be with Jessie till the wedding.\n\n\"Yes, my dear,\" returned Miss Selina rather plaintively. \"I must not\nbe selfish; but when do you think of leaving me?\"\n\n\"To-morrow.\"\n\nPoor Miss Spelman was astounded, shocked, and hurt; but Margaret\npacified and consoled her. She assured her that it was a great deal\nbetter than if they had had this separation hanging over them for\nweeks, and if she had been obliged to take a formal leave of every\nbody.\n\n\"Now I have bidden them good-by in the pleasantest way,\" she said;\n\"they are all pleased with me, and so must you be, too, dear, dear\nAunt Selina! We are too good friends to disagree about this.\"\n\n\"But you will come back after the wedding, dear? You feel this is\nyour home, do you not?\"\n\n\"I will come back, but not immediately. I mean to pass next winter\nin New York; and you will come and make me a long visit, to make up\nfor my living on you so long here.\" And Margaret drew so bright a\npicture of the good times they would have together in New York that\nMiss Spelman bade her good-night quite happily. Margaret's movements\nwere always so sudden that the quiet old lady was not, after all, as\nsurprised as might have been expected.\n\n\"It was just like her,\" she said; \"such decision of mind, such energy\nof character!\"\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII.\n\nCONQUERED BY CONQUERING.\n\nMargaret, meanwhile, who had quietly completed all her arrangements\nand packed her trunks, went to her room, and, after laying aside her\nrose-colored dress, and putting on her wrapper, sat down to her table\nand wrote her letter. It did not seem at all difficult to her to\nwrite, though she once or twice laid down her pen and thought for a\nfew minutes, with a grave face.\n\nShe wrote no rough copy, and made no alterations; but went on\nfirmly, line by line, till she had signed her name, when she read it\ncarefully over, sealed and directed it. It took her about half an\nhour, and then she went directly to bed, and slept as soundly as a\nchild.\n\nDr. James's state of mind grew worse and worse, as he approached his\nhome, and, after leaving Rosanna at her stable, he walked up and down\nbefore the house many times, before he went in to write his letter.\nNever before had any letter given him such trouble. He wrote and\nrewrote it; left it and walked about his room; took refuge in a book,\nand then put it down in despair. At last he resolved to try for the\nlast time, and keep what he should write; and this was his letter:\n\n     \"MY DEAR MISS LESTER: I have a humiliating confession to make\n     to you; but before I make it (afterward it would be impossible)\n     I feel obliged to say to you that your conduct since you have\n     been at Shellbeach has compelled my respect and admiration. I\n     appreciate the courage and earnestness with which you adopted\n     your change of life, and, instead of seeking in it only your\n     own amusement, made your stay here not only a pleasure to your\n     friends, but a blessing to persons whose number I can only guess\n     at, but whom your own heart knows.\n\n     \"I know, Miss Lester, you are wealthy; I knew it long before you\n     came here. And your wealth, I acknowledge it to my shame, has been\n     a temptation to me. I believe you consider all men mercenary,\n     and fortune-hunters. I think you are mistaken; and I wish you to\n     take the humiliation of what I am going to say as a proof that\n     you are wrong. Miss Lester, I know I do not love you, and here is\n     the proof: If I think of you as my wife, the thought of what your\n     money would be to me comes _first_ to my mind. Having said that, I\n     can say no more; but I am, always yours faithfully,\n\n                                   \"FRANCIS JAMES.\n\n    \"SHELLBEACH, July 18, 1868.\"\n\nThe clock struck one as the doctor signed his name, tore up the\nunfinished letters which lay around him, and hastened to extinguish\nhis light and go to bed. He was angry with himself, and disgusted\nwith his letter; and for the first time for years, found that he\ncould not sleep. One minute he repented of what he had done, and\ncalled himself a fool; the next, he said to himself, \"I must tell\nher the truth; she deserves it.\" He then asked himself what she did\ndeserve? It was plain to him what her plan of action was to be: she\nwished to part friends, because she supposed that she would by her\nletter give a dreadful blow to his hopes, and consign him to despair.\nAt this, he laughed with pleasure, to think that his letter would\nundeceive and disappoint her. Then rose up clearly before him the\nalways recurring temptation of his great need of money, and all the\ngood he could do with it. What a chance had been offered him! Would\nhe ever have such another? Might he not, if he had gone to work\ndifferently, won her heart? Other men had done such things; and he\nwas better worthy of her, he was sure of it, than the society-men\nshe had so often spoken of with contempt. Had he not heard that\n\"any man can have any woman\"? No, that was not right; it was, \"Any\nwoman can have any man.\" Then, had she tried to ensnare him? had\nshe really endeavored to please him? He could not say she had; but\nhe remembered, with some discomfiture, her apparent enjoyment in\nshocking and teasing him. She was an enigma; but he believed her\nhonest, and was glad he had told her the truth.\n\nTo tell all Dr. James's reflections of that night, would take\nconsiderably longer than it took him to make them, which was two or\nthree hours; so we will leave him to his uncomfortable pillow, and\nnot return to him till he opened his chamber-door, at seven o'clock\nin the morning, and saw Tommy McNally waiting with a letter in his\nhand. The doctor handed the boy his own, and walked into his study,\nwhere he sat down at his table and contemplated the square white\nenvelope and graceful monogram, and his own name written in a large,\nfirm hand. He slowly opened the letter, struck by its neatness and\nthe fair, distinct writing, and read as follows:\n\n                            \"SWEET BRIER COTTAGE,}\n                                   July 18, 1868.}\n\n     \"MY DEAR DR. JAMES: When, six months ago, I promised to write you\n     this letter, I certainly had no idea that I should say in it what\n     I am about to say now. Whether, if this possibility had occurred\n     to me, I should have made that promise, or whether I should have\n     come to Shellbeach at all, it is profitless to consider.\n\n     \"I know you always speak the truth frankly, and I am resolved,\n     in all my dealings with you, to do the same; for I feel that I\n     shall thus best show my appreciation and approbation of your\n     character, and of the plain truth which I know you will write to\n     me to-night. You deserve honest treatment, and you shall have it.\n     I consider the time I have spent here to be the great lesson of my\n     life, and one which I on no account regret, though I weigh well\n     the significance of the words. I have learned to know and value\n     the useful and unselfish life and work of one man, and from him\n     to believe in the capacity for noble things in other people whom\n     I once despised. In recognizing your superiority, I have grown\n     humble; and from your wisdom and good sense, I have come to be\n     aware of my own ignorance and conceit. I know how strongly you\n     will object to hearing this, but be patient a little longer. You\n     have given me a lesson you will be glad to hear of, and it is\n     this: I believe that a useless life will never again content me,\n     and that to do some active good will be the only way to make my\n     life happy.\n\n     \"But you will say all this is not to the purpose, and not in the\n     bond. You are very right; and though I beat round the bush, I do\n     not mean to beg the question, and I know very well that honor,\n     esteem, appreciation, good resolutions, etc., etc., were not to be\n     the subjects of this letter. Truly then, I love you, and I have\n     never loved before. I believe that to be your wife, in this little\n     town, with no society and no excitements, to share your work and\n     your poverty, (if poverty indeed it were,) would be a happy lot.\n     I tell you this, because I trust you; I know it is not maidenly,\n     but it is honest. I shall not see you again; for I know you do not\n     love me, and that your letter will tell the truth. I thank you for\n     your kindness, and your wise and good advice. I hope it has not\n     all been lost upon me. I hope you will sometimes let me know what\n     you are interested in, and how you are prospering.\n\n     \"Good-by, and believe me your true friend,\n\n                                  MARGARET LESTER.\n\n     \"Once more, I do not regret any thing.\"\n\nPoor Dr. James! He read the last word, and sat like a man in a dream\nstaring at the letter before him. Suddenly he started up, seized his\nhat from its peg, put it on, and rushed to the door; then came back,\nthrew his hat away from him and sat down again, burying his face in\nhis hands. Fool, fool that he had been! What had he thrown away? Was\nthere ever a woman like this? What would it not be for him, for any\nman, to go through life with such a companion; who would never hold\nhim back from what was right; who would not fear to meet any thing\nfor the sake of truth and justice? What woman in a hundred would have\ndone this? knowing, too, that her love was not returned. And how did\nshe know it? Oh! how much more clear-sighted she had been than he,\nwith all his wisdom and experience! If he had not shut his eyes, if\nhe could have had the least suspicion of this, what a difference\nmight it not have made? Then he resolved to seek her, to go through\nfire and water if need be, if he could only find her, and bring her\nback, and never let her leave him again.\n\nAt that moment, the words he had written to her came before him, and\nthrew him again into despair. No; all was lost! He had insulted her,\ncauselessly and needlessly; he had said that he valued her money\nmore than herself! Her money! Would she had not a cent; would she\nwere dependent and friendless, that he might work for her, share with\nher all that he had, and win name and fame for her!\n\nWhen Mrs. Day, his housekeeper, put her head into his room,\nexclaiming that the breakfast-bell had rung half an hour ago, he\nfollowed her to the dining-room and swallowed his cold coffee without\na word, with a meekness that touched the heart of his Gorgon. She\nproposed boiling him an egg, or cutting a few shavings of ham;\nbut the doctor declined her attentions (to her great relief) and\nhurried to the stable for Rosanna. He drove twenty miles away to\nhis most distant patient, whom he alarmed by his gloomy face and\nabrupt manner; he drove Rosanna back to Sealing at a rate she was\nunaccustomed to, and walking up the street--it was then late in the\nafternoon--encountered Tommy McNally, roaring at the top of his\nvoice, and rubbing his eyes as if he wished to leave in them no\npowers of vision. Dr. James stopped and asked rather crossly what\nailed him:\n\n\"O doctor! she's gone away, and she's given me this,\" holding up a\ndollar bill and continuing to cry, \"and one for each of us; and she's\ngone away, and we won't see her any more!\"\n\n\"Do you mean Miss Lester?\"\n\n\"Yes, doctor,\" said Tommy, beginning to dry his eyes. \"I've been to\nthe station and seen her go off; and she told me to be a good boy and\nhelp mother.\"\n\n\"Mind you do it,\" said the doctor, hurrying away and home to his\ncold dinner. That evening he called on Father Barry, and heard\nthat Margaret had been there on her way to the cars, and had left\ndirections for all her _prot\u00e9g\u00e9s_, especially the McNallys. Father\nBarry seemed quite dejected about her departure, and much surprised\nat it; but the doctor, of course, chose to throw no light on the\nsubject.\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII.\n\n\"THE HEARTBREAK OF TO-MORROW.\"\n\nA few days after, as soon as Dr. James could make up his mind to do\nso, he called on Miss Spelman, and found the house quite as forlorn\nas he had expected, and his old friend very glad to receive sympathy.\nShe said she had heard from her niece that very day.\n\n\"It was an amusing, affectionate letter,\" said Miss Selina, \"just\nlike her. Poor child! she will be easy now she is with her friend.\nShe was very much changed, doctor.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Why, she had grown so quiet and so strange--that is, she seemed to\nme strange; she would sit so long without speaking a word; and then\nshe was much more affectionate--I mean more demonstrative--than when\nshe first came; but she seemed to have lost her good spirits.\"\n\n\"I thought she seemed much as usual whenever I saw her.\"\n\n\"Yes, she was gayer than ever when any one was here; but that was\nonly put on. Poor child! she felt Jessie's marriage, and that she was\nso soon to be separated from the friend of her childhood.\"\n\nMiss Spelman seemed to think the doctor needed consolation, and from\nlittle remarks and insinuations, he imagined that she considered him\nsuffering from disappointment; he did not try to undeceive her, for\nwas it not true?\n\nHe found Martha Burney a great comfort; to her he sometimes talked\nof Margaret, and from her he learned to understand things in her\ncharacter which had been puzzling to him before. And the more\nhe became convinced that Margaret had spoken the truth in saying\nthat she loved him, the more he wondered at and admired her for so\ncompletely concealing it from him in their intercourse; and the\nbetter he understood that her apparent levity and exaggerated spirits\nwere no doubt assumed in order to hide her deeper feelings. He\nthought much of all these things, and wondered more; but he kept his\nsecret and hers, and only suspected sometimes that Miss Burney knew\nmore than any one else about the matter.\n\nDr. James was a disappointed man, and he made no effort to disguise\nit from himself; but he was not a man to sit down in despair and\nwaste his life in regrets. So, recognizing the fact that he had\nthrown away a great chance of happiness, and been wholly to blame\nfor it, he resolutely turned the energy of his thoughts into other\nchannels, and worked harder than ever. But Sealing became unutterably\nwearisome to him; it was only by iron determination that he went\nthrough with his daily round of duties, and as for society, he\nconfined himself exclusively to making the calls that he imposed on\nhimself, and going for relaxation to Father Barry and Miss Burney.\n\nIn the middle of August he left Richards in charge, and went for a\nweek to his mother and sisters in Maine.\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX.\n\nA LAST LOOK.\n\nSoon after Dr. James's return from Maine, he was apprised by his\nfriend Philip of his approaching wedding, to take place at Newport,\non September first. Philip urged his and Jessie's wish that he should\nbe a groomsman; but this Dr. James, knowing that Margaret would of\ncourse be a bridesmaid, declared would be out of the question. He\nunwillingly promised to be present at both wedding and reception,\nbecause he had no reason to give for declining; and he looked forward\nto the day with mingled feelings of dread and impatience. He bought\na dress suit for the first time for years; and when he was arrayed\nin state, gloves and all, surveyed himself from head to foot with\nstrong disapprobation. He had spent the night at a hotel in Newport,\nand, having completed his toilet, descended to the parlor, where he\nhad an opportunity of beholding his _tout ensemble_ in the long glass\nbetween the windows.\n\n\"I look like the ass in the lion's skin,\" he said to himself; \"only\nI suppose that was too big for him, while every thing I have on is\ntoo small for me. I sha'n't be myself again till I get off these\nvanities.\"\n\nHe arrived at the church full half an hour before the time, he\nwas so afraid of being late, and chose his seat up-stairs, where\nhe could see better without being conspicuous. He observed the\nshowy dresses and latest fashions with wonder and disapproval, and\nspeculated on the probable cost of the ladies assembled to their\nhusbands and fathers, till the clock pointed to twelve and the\nbridal party arrived. First came a troop of little girls in white,\nwith pink and blue sashes, carrying baskets of flowers; then Mrs.\nEdgar with Philip; the six bridesmaids followed, headed by Margaret,\neach accompanied by her groomsman, and the doctor noticed that Miss\nLester's companion was a tall, handsome fellow, with a fair mustache;\nlast came the bride, on the arm of an elderly man, whom Dr. James\nsupposed to be her uncle.\n\nThe ceremony was soon over, and the church rapidly becoming\ndeserted, when Dr. James descended from his post of observation, and\ngot into a carriage to go to Mrs. Edgar's house. He found the two\nhandsome parlors quite full, and stood for a few minutes at the door\nobserving the scene before him.\n\nThe bride and bridegroom stood at the end of the room, with the\npretty children playing in the bay-window behind them. Philip\nlooked as proud and beaming as might have been expected, and\nJessie was just what the doctor thought she would be: very pretty\nand refined, looking timid and rather flushed at receiving so\nmany congratulations. His eyes scarcely rested on her; for he was\nimmediately conscious of Margaret standing near her, apparently\ndividing her attentions pretty equally between three gentlemen. Her\ndress was white, very rich and flowing; she held a beautiful bouquet,\nand there were rose-buds in her hair and on her dress. The next\nthing he knew, one of the gentlemen-managers was asking his name, he\nwas led up and presented, and found himself embraced by Philip, and\ngreeted with a sweet smile by Jessie.\n\n\"He is the best fellow in the world,\" said the bridegroom; and Jessie\nadded,\n\n\"We are very glad to see you, Dr. James; it was very kind of you to\ncome.\"\n\nThen he turned to find Margaret by his side, with the smile he\nknew so well, and the cordial, outstretched hand. His face flushed\npainfully, but he was not called upon to speak, for Philip remarked,\n\n\"Oh! yes, you are old acquaintances, are you not? Where is Mrs.\nEdgar? I want her so much to see him. Oh! there she is at the end of\nthe other room. I suppose it wouldn't do for me to leave Jessie.\"\nAnd he turned to his bride with a face full of happiness.\n\n\"I will go with Dr. James,\" said Margaret at once; and he found\nhimself walking, with her on his arm, through the crowd of people,\nsome of whom regarded him with curiosity.\n\n\"You were at the church, were you not?\" began Margaret at once; \"and\nwas she not a lovely bride? I was very much afraid it would be a\nshowery wedding; but Jessie behaved very well, only she arrived at\nhome a perfect Niobe, and had to be consoled in private before she\ncould face all these people.\"\n\n\"Why should she have to be consoled?\"\n\n\"Now, that's just what I say, Dr. James; why does she marry him if\nit doesn't make her happy? Philip, however, seems to understand her,\nand I leave to him the task of comforting. She is very fond of her\nmother, and it is very hard for her to live so far away, you know.\"\n\n\"Miss Lester, you look thin and pale,\" the doctor said very abruptly;\nhe did not mean to say it, the words came almost involuntarily.\n\n\"Yes, this has been a wearing time for all of us; I am glad it is\nnearly over. Here we are. Mrs. Edgar, this is Philip's friend and\nmine, Dr. James.\"\n\nThe doctor received the kindest greeting, and was overpowered with\nquestions about his mother, who had been a school friend of Mrs.\nEdgar, and his sisters. He tried to answer them intelligibly,\nthinking, however, only of Miss Lester, and conscious that she had\nturned away to be polite to other guests. Mrs. Edgar then introduced\nhim to Jessie's sister Isabel, a fresh little girl of sixteen, who\nlooked full of fun and mischief, and she in turn presented him to a\nfriend, a tall young lady, who immediately began to talk to him so\nfast that he could hardly keep up with her. Mrs. Edgar suggested that\nhe should get some ice-cream for himself and them, and then occupied\nherself with other people, considering that her duties of hospitality\nto him were performed. Dr. James went obediently into the next room\nand returned, after some difficulties, with ices and cake, and did\nhis best to be polite. Soon Isabel was sent into the other room to\nsee about the children, and the talkative young lady became engaged\nin conversation with an equally voluble young gentleman, so that Dr.\nJames found himself again alone. He put down his untasted cake, and\nseeing a glass of wine near him, which seemed to belong to no one,\nhe drank it and felt rather better. The solitariness one sometimes\nfeels in a crowd came over him, and he looked from one strange face\nto another, feeling himself completely out of place. Mrs. Edgar was\nabsorbed in duties of hospitality; Jessie and Philip in the distance,\nduring a pause in the stream of guests, were engrossed in each other;\neven Margaret seemed to have completely forgotten him, and he saw her\nearnestly talking with her handsome groomsman. He regretted that he\nhad refused to be a groomsman; no doubt he would have been assigned\nto Margaret, as the corresponding \"best friend,\" and then she would\nhave been talking to him instead of to that fellow; from which it\nwill be seen that he had already arrived at a stage of lover-like\ninconsistency, since his sole motive for declining his friend's\ninvitation had been his dread of encountering Miss Lester.\n\nHe saw that many people were going, and it came to him as a happy\nthought that he might go too. He interrupted Mrs. Edgar to shake\nhands again with her, observed that Margaret was near the door,\nand next made his way to Philip, with whom he had a little talk,\nunsatisfactory, of course, but one's best friend must be excused for\nbeing preoccupied on such an occasion. Philip parted from him with\nresignation, saying that he must come to California and settle, that\nhe would do splendidly there and make a fortune. Such a prospect\nseemed to the doctor dreary in the extreme; and owning to himself\nthat he did not at all begrudge to Philip his pretty and delicate\nbride, he bade her a friendly farewell, and approached Margaret. He\nwas glad to interrupt the groomsman in the _sotto voce_ remarks he\nwas making, and to have Margaret turn at once to him and leave her\ncompanion to his own reflections.\n\n\"Good-by, Miss Lester. I go back to Sealing this afternoon.\"\n\n\"Good-by, Dr. James. I am very glad you came.\" That was all; how\nsoon these words were said! Again he met the straightforward look of\nthose clear, brown eyes; again he felt the kind pressure of her hand.\nHer glove was off and so was his, (not accident on his part,) and he\nfelt that her hand was cold. He was on the point of saying, \"How pale\nyou are!\" but remembered just in time, that he had made that remark\nbefore.\n\nIn another minute he was outside the door, and driving to the hotel.\nAs he drew his tight boots from his aching feet, and resumed his\ncomfortable, familiar clothes, he said to himself,\n\n\"This episode in my life is closed. I must shut her completely out of\nmy existence, and go on as if there were no such woman as Margaret\nLester.\"\n\nSo he took the five o'clock train, and arrived safely in Sealing that\nnight.\n\n\nCHAPTER XX.\n\nMISS BURNEY LEAVES SHELLBEACH.\n\nOne evening, two or three weeks after the wedding at Newport, Dr.\nJames was sitting with Miss Burney in her little parlor. They often\nused that privilege of fast friends, silence; and it was after an\nunbroken pause of full a quarter of an hour that Martha looked up\nfrom her sewing, and said:\n\n\"Why did you never notice that I have not resumed my school-work this\nyear?\"\n\n\"I have noticed it; but supposed you had some good reason, which you\nwould tell me when you were ready.\"\n\n\"I am ready now. I have given up teaching for the present, and\nperhaps for ever.\" The doctor made no reply, only showing by his\nattentive face that he was listening.\n\n\"Margaret has offered me a home, and I have accepted it.\"\n\n\"I imagined you were too proud to accept assistance from any body.\"\n\n\"From any body else except her. In the first place, she is rich and\ncan afford it; secondly, it makes her happy to help people; thirdly,\nI love her and she loves me, and that is the best reason of all.\"\n\n\"You are right; and what decided you to take this step?\"\n\n\"It seems she has had it in her mind ever since last spring; however,\nshe only said to me, just before she left here, that she hoped I\nwould make no arrangements for the winter, without first telling\nher my plans. Two weeks ago, I received a letter from her, saying\nthat she had decided not to live any longer with Mrs. Edgar; but,\nafter passing the month of September at Newport, to take a house for\nherself in New York. She said she could not live alone, and that she\nmust have some one for company and for the sake of appearances. She\nbegged me to be that somebody, because there was no one else with\nwhom she could feel independent, and free to do what she chose. I\nconsidered the subject a week, and then wrote her my consent to do as\nshe wished, for next winter at least. It will be a great advantage\nto me, of course, as well as a pleasure. Still I should not think of\nit on that account for a moment, if I did not believe that such an\narrangement would be a good thing for her as well as for me. I do\nbelieve so, and therefore I am going to try the experiment.\"\n\n\"You will not repent it, I am sure. And when do you go?\"\n\n\"Next week.\"\n\n\"Has she bought her house?\"\n\n\"She has not decided yet, and wants my help about furnishing, etc.;\nso the sooner I go the better.\"\n\n\"Is she in New York now?\"\n\n\"Yes, at a private boarding-house, where I am to stay with her till\nthe house is ready.\"\n\nDr. James had made up his mind that nothing would astonish him\nagain, yet this did take him by surprise; after he thought about it,\nhowever, he only wondered such an arrangement had not occurred to him\nbefore. Miss Burney was a great loss to him; for there was no other\nwoman whose society was any pleasure to him, and Father Barry was now\nthe only person with whom he had any sympathy, and of him he saw more\nand more.\n\nHe begged Martha Burney to write to him, but she was a miserable\ncorrespondent; her letters were few and far between, and never told\nhim what he wanted to know. He was obliged to go to Miss Spelman for\nall his information regarding these two people in whom he was so\ndeeply interested. He heard from her that Margaret had bought a very\npretty little house, furnished it, and was comfortably established\nwith Martha. She said Margaret always wrote in excellent spirits, and\nseemed to her to be enjoying her winter very much.\n\nThe doctor's \"young man\" Richards, thanks to the careful instructions\nand preparation he had received, was now become of great assistance,\nand, being left in charge, had very successfully treated several\ncases, and even performed very well one or two surgical operations,\nso that people began to feel considerable confidence in him. Dr.\nJames encouraged this as much as possible; for the idea of giving\nup his practice at Shellbeach and vicinity had taken strong hold on\nhim. Finding that he left his patients in competent hands, he often\nwent away on business for a week at a time, and felt his own work\nconsiderably lightened.\n\nAt Christmas time, Miss Spelman went to New York, and staid a\nmonth, and returned eloquent about the delights of her niece's\nestablishment, and the charming people she had met. The doctor, by\ncareful questions, learned from her that Margaret was occupied with\ncountless good works and charities, though Miss Selina seemed to have\nonly a vague idea what they were. She described to her attentive\nauditor how she breakfasted in her own room, every day, at ten\no'clock, or as much later as she liked, (which had always been her\nidea of comfort,) and then had the carriage to do what she chose\ntill luncheon at two, when she saw Margaret for the first time; for\nshe was always full of her charitable engagements till one, when she\ncame home to dress. After luncheon, in time for which some pleasant\nperson always dropped in, they drove, visited, or shopped, and dined\nat six. Then Miss Spelman told of the opera, and concerts, and a\ndinner-party that Margaret gave while she was there, and of the old\nfriends she had met, and of the many calls and great attention she\nhad received; and she went on, telling about herself, with only now\nand then a word about Margaret, till the doctor was quite tired of\nlistening. He was very curious about Margaret's morning work; of that\nhis old friend, having seen nothing, could give no information; and\nafter the account of the gayeties of Miss Lester's household, Doctor\nJames grew more restless than ever.\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI.\n\nSEEK YE FIRST THE KINGDOM OF GOD.\n\nJanuary wore away, and February, and at last, on one of the first\ndays of the first month of spring, a raw and dreary day, when Dr.\nJames had been glad that no patient needed his attendance, he had\nmade a bright little fire, and was sitting in his study chair, deeply\nengaged with the last number of THE CATHOLIC WORLD, which Father\nBarry had lent him. Richards came in from the post-office, laid the\ndoctor's mail upon the table, and then went home to his mother's\nhouse. Dr. James very deliberately finished the article he was\nreading, stared at the fire for a few minutes, and then carelessly\ntook up his letters and glanced at the handwritings. There was\none from his sister Lucy, one from a medical friend at the West,\nand--what was this?--one in a clear, firm hand, which gave him a\nstart, and brought him very quickly out of his reverie.\n\n\"From Margaret Lester! What can she have to say to me?\"\n\nA misgiving came over him as he held the letter in his hand, and he\ndelayed opening it. What might not her boldness and independence\nbe capable of! He smiled contemptuously as he realized that his\nimagination was running away with him.\n\n\"She is engaged, I suppose,\" and he quickly broke the seal.\n\n     \"MY DEAR FRIEND: I write to you because this is the very happiest\n     day of my life, and because I owe that happiness, after God, to\n     you.\n\n     \"Do you remember your words, 'For the direction of practical,\n     systematic good works, I advise you to go to the Catholic priest'?\n     Well, I established myself in New York with the object of making\n     myself happy by doing as much good to the poor as I was able;\n     and as soon as I asked myself how I should begin, I thought of\n     your words, and said to myself, 'I found how true that advice\n     was in that quiet little town; now, why should it not hold good\n     in a great city like this, where there is so much more misery,\n     and where opportunities for doing good are so much greater?' So\n     I said to my cook, whom I found to be a good Catholic, going to\n     her confessions and communions regularly, 'Where does your priest\n     live? For I want to go and see him.' She gladly told me where to\n     find him, and I went where she directed me, and found an old,\n     white-headed Frenchman with most courtly manners, before whom I\n     felt as unpolished as a school-girl. I told him the simple truth,\n     and asked to be instructed as to how I could aid the poor. Well,\n     we sat down, and he gave me a little sketch of the different\n     Catholic charities in New York, and each one, as he described it,\n     seemed to me best of all; and I saw how much more good I could do\n     by aiding those perfectly organized charities than by working on\n     my own responsibility. He ended by telling me of a lady who would\n     take me with her and show me all these institutions.\n\n     \"From that day began for me a life of revelations. I had always\n     dreamed of lives of heroism; and I began to see that they were not\n     only possible, but of every-day occurrence among those men and\n     women devoted to works of mercy. Then came the question, What is\n     it that inspires such self-sacrifice, such complete abnegation and\n     ignoring of self, such all-embracing charity and purity of motive?\n     For in no case could I see a trace of any personal advantage to\n     be gained from these almost superhuman labors. And then, Dr.\n     James, I began to look into the doctrine of that church which all\n     my life I had been taught to regard as the teacher of falsehood,\n     superstition, and idolatry.\n\n     \"The result has been that a week ago I was baptized a Roman\n     Catholic, and this day, for the first time, I have received our\n     Lord Jesus Christ in the most holy communion.\n\n     \"O my friend! God's goodness has been great to me, and I am as\n     happy as a person should be who has found there is such a thing\n     as heaven upon earth. This is why I have written to you, because\n     my heart, in its gratitude to God, turns next to you; and also\n     because I wish you to hear from no one except myself of this great\n     change in my life.\n\n     \"And now, I cannot end my letter without one more word. I have\n     another saying of yours in my mind; was it not this? 'Do as well\n     as you know how, and then be at peace.' That is true; yet it is\n     not all that will be required of us. We ought to try to know the\n     best thing, and then do what we know as well as we can.\n\n     \"Good-by, and God bless you.\n\n                                        \"MARGARET.\n\n     \"P.S.--Martha Burney, after trying her best to dissuade me, had\n     the justice to examine what I was about, and she was received into\n     the church this very day.\"\n\nFather Barry received this news by the same mail as Dr. James, and\nfrom him Margaret heard at once. The pious priest wrote a letter full\nof joy and congratulation, of good advice and blessing; but to her\nother letter no answer was received. Two weeks passed, and no word\ncame. Miss Selina had written a reproachful and admonitory letter,\nassuring Margaret that it was not too late, and while life was spared\nher she could draw back. She insinuated that a plan of rescue could\nbe easily arranged, and offered her home as an asylum to the fugitive.\n\nMargaret laughed over this letter, and showed it to her friends with\ngreat glee. However, she wrote back a kind and soothing answer, which\nsoftened her aunt a little, though the subject continued a very sore\none for a long time. To think that she should have been a month in\nthe same house with Margaret, never suspecting the machinations of\nwhich the poor child was being made the victim! But when she applied\nto Dr. James for sympathy, he said abruptly,\n\n\"I don't agree with you at all, ma'am. Miss Lester has done right\nbecause she has consulted her own conscience, and been brave enough\nnot to stop for what the world or her friends would say or think.\"\n\nHe then changed the subject; and Miss Spelman was so much scandalized\nthat she never spoke of it again.\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII.\n\nALL THINGS SHALL BE ADDED UNTO YOU.\n\nOn the 18th of March, Margaret had returned to luncheon from visiting\nsome sick persons; Martha had staid at home to cut out work to be\ngiven to poor women. She entered Margaret's room as she was dressing,\nholding one hand behind her.\n\n\"I have had a note from Dr. James to-day,\" said Martha. \"He is in the\ncity, and we shall see him to-morrow.\"\n\nMargaret looked up inquiringly.\n\n\"You have something else to tell! I see it in your face. Why do you\nmake me wait?\"\n\n\"I have something else to tell, and this shall tell it for me,\" she\nanswered, laying a letter down on Margaret's table, and going out of\nthe room. Margaret, with trembling fingers, tore it open and read as\nfollows:\n\n                              \"NEW YORK, March 18.\n\n     \"MY DEAR MISS LESTER: It has not been from disapprobation, nor\n     neglect, nor indifference that I have left your letter so long\n     unanswered. It is because I earnestly desired, if possible, to\n     give you some good news in return for that which you sent me.\n\n     \"You speak of owing your conversion partly to me, and I am very\n     happy that this should be true; but your letter has done a greater\n     work for me than you thought it could when you wrote it. Miss\n     Lester, I ought to have been where you are now a year ago; but\n     pride of intellect, perversity of will, and, latterly, another\n     obstacle, have stood in my way, and I might have kept on blind and\n     miserable for the rest of my life. You have found the church of\n     God through its treasures of charity, displayed in its works of\n     mercy to the poor, the weak, and the sinful; it was your heart,\n     so to speak, that carried you there. I have found the same church\n     entirely by my mind. I have seen repeatedly shallow prejudices,\n     groundless suspicions, and fanatical attacks met by calm, strong,\n     logical arguments. I have seen the carping opinions of sects\n     dwindling away before the majesty of a revealed faith. I have\n     recognized that intellect, learning, science, philosophy, shine\n     brightest in that church which the scoffers of the day assert to\n     be in her dotage and dissolution. I have been forced at last,\n     to admit her divine authority, and the consequent infallibility\n     of her teaching, and there was but one thing left for me to do.\n     How long would I have resisted light, conviction? I cannot tell.\n     Cowardice, pride, and something else held me back; then your\n     letter came, as a push from a friendly hand to a wretch clinging\n     to the feeble branch which threatens to give way in his grasp and\n     precipitate him into the abyss below, yet fearing to take the leap\n     which will land him on firm ground.\n\n     \"We have landed on the rock--you and I. God grant that we may\n     stand on it for ever.\n\n     \"I have much more to say, but can write no more. I have been for\n     a week making a retreat at the house of the ---- fathers, and I\n     shall be baptized in their church to-morrow morning, Feast of St.\n     Joseph, after the nine o'clock mass. You will come, will you not?\n     Pray for me.\n\n                                   FRANCIS JAMES.\"\n\nMargaret read this letter steadily through to the end, and then fell\non her knees by her little table, where Martha found her some time\nafter, when she came to summon her to luncheon.\n\n\"He has asked me to be his godmother,\" remarked Martha, as they were\nsitting at the dining-table.\n\n\"Has he? I should think he would have asked me,\" responded Margaret.\n\n\"Don't you remember what you told me once about the spiritual\nrelationship between sponsors and their god-children, and what it\nprecludes?\"\n\nMargaret slightly smiled, and the subject was dropped.\n\nOn arriving next morning at St. ---- church, Margaret found that\nthe first pew was reserved for Martha and herself, and soon Dr.\nJames appeared and knelt with them. To the surprise and delight of\nMargaret, who should enter the sanctuary to celebrate mass but Father\nBarry; and it was he who, at the conclusion of the holy sacrifice,\nadministered the sacrament of baptism.\n\nMargaret's cup of happiness was very full when, going into the house\nafterward, by invitation, she was able to exchange congratulations\nwith her good friend Father Barry, and grasp, with a glowing face and\nspeaking eyes, the hand of the newly-baptized. They both agreed to\ndine with her; and then she went home with Martha, wondering over the\nchanges which one year had brought about in her life, and thanking\nGod in her heart for her conversion and for that of the person\ndearest to her in the world.\n\nThe dinner that evening was a very delightful one. Margaret and the\ndoctor were surprised to find all embarrassment between them gone.\nAll their past intercourse seemed far away and like what had happened\nin a dream, and they felt that they were beginning their friendship\nover again on a new and true basis.\n\nMargaret had many questions to ask of Father Barry about Sealing, and\nthe different families she was interested in, and he had a great deal\nto tell her, as well as questions to ask in his turn. And Margaret\ntold all about the beautiful religious houses she had visited, and\nabout kind Abb\u00e9 Sainc\u00e8re, who had done her so much good, lent her\nbooks and led her gently on till she was safely in the fold.\n\nMartha Burney had to tell of her horror when she found what Margaret\nwas wrapped up in; how she scolded, and argued, and ridiculed, and\nat last went in secret to see the abb\u00e9, to remonstrate with him. How\nshe was won by his gentleness and courtesy, and how, still in secret\nand with his assistance, she read and learned about the church, till\non Margaret's asking one day why she made no more fuss about her\nbecoming a Catholic, she said the reason was because she was going to\nbe one herself as soon as she could be prepared.\n\nThen Dr. James told about his plans: how Richards was all ready to\nstep into his place, and in a great hurry to have the establishment,\ndispensary, etc., under his own control; how he was a good-hearted\nyoung fellow, and the doctor thought would be merciful to the poor;\nand his mother would come and live with him, and take the place of\nthe tyrannical housekeeper. Then, for himself, Dr. James announced\nhis intention of removing to New York as soon as his affairs at\nShellbeach were settled.\n\nMargaret was quieter than usual, and more simply dressed than the\ndoctor had ever seen her before, in a plain black silk absolutely\nwithout ornament, except that she wore round her neck an amber\nrosary, which she said she had obtained abroad when she was a\nheathen. There was in her face an expression of serenity and quiet\nhappiness that was new to it, and Dr. James thought he had never seen\nher so attractive and lovable.\n\nThe evening flew away; Father Barry was to return to Sealing the next\nday, and the doctor with him for a week or two, but he would soon\ncome back to New York to live. At parting he said in a low voice to\nMargaret,\n\n\"I am to receive communion in Father Barry's church a week from\nSunday; you will pray for me?\"\n\n\"I will not forget,\" she answered with a happy smile.\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII.\n\nMARGARET'S BIRTHDAY.\n\nThe story draws to a close, and there is little more to tell; the\nrest is such plain sailing that it might almost be taken for granted.\nThere is one little scene, however, pleasant to write and possibly\npleasant to read, which took place on August 15th of that same year,\nin the church at Sealing; and in explanation of which a short account\nshould be given of what happened after Dr. James had come to live in\nNew York.\n\nHe had taken rooms in that city and begun to work among the poor,\ndoing much although with small means. He began to go regularly every\nday to Miss Lester's house in the afternoon; then they walked and\ndrove together, and learned to know each other well. He was often\nwith her in the morning, too, and together they visited many a sick\nand suffering soul, leaving behind them comfort, encouragement, and\nsubstantial relief. They every week knelt together at the altar of\nthe little French chapel Margaret loved so well, and received God's\ngreatest gift of love to man, and it was a time of pure, unclouded\nhappiness.\n\nIt was June; and there had been a week of very warm weather. The\nfashionables had fled from the city, or shut themselves up in their\nhouses, excluding every ray of light and sun. Dr. James, weary from\nhis morning's labors, had been home, refreshed himself a little, and\nthen, at about five o'clock in the afternoon, stood on the steps of\nMargaret's house, and was ushered into the shady parlor. The green\nblinds were closed, the carpets were gone, cool white matting was\non the floors, and great bunches of roses stood about on tables and\nmantel-pieces. Margaret came to meet him, fresh and cool in her\nlight dress, and holding in her hand a very beautiful line engraving\nof the Dresden \"Madonna and Child.\"\n\n\"See, Dr. James, what Martha has given me for a birthday present.\"\n\n\"Why did you not tell me beforehand that this was your birthday, that\nI might have given you a present?\"\n\n\"Truly, because I forgot it till I found this on the breakfast-table\nthis morning. It seems I told Martha at Shellbeach that this was my\nbirthday, and she remembered it. Was she not kind?\"\n\n\"I want to speak to you about leaving the city,\" said the doctor;\n\"the hot weather has come, and it will not be healthy for you to be\nhere. The cholera may be about, they say, and you go into places\nwhere you will be sure to catch it.\"\n\n\"So do you.\"\n\n\"But a doctor is pretty safe; he can guard against infection in a\ngreat measure.\"\n\n\"Well, a great many other people stay in New York and do not get\nsick. The religious and priests stay in their houses, and they go\namong more wretched people than I do.\"\n\n\"Yes; but Miss Lester, you are not a religious; your life has not\nbeen wholly consecrated to God, as theirs have.\"\n\n\"I can't see why, because I have not a vocation for a religious life,\nthat should make any difference.\"\n\n\"Plainly, then, because your life is precious, if not to yourself, to\nother people; to me. It should not be lightly thrown away.\"\n\n\"I shall not throw it away; I don't believe in contagion. God will\npreserve my life, if he wishes it to be spared.\"\n\n\"Yes; but God is not called upon to work a miracle in your behalf;\nand if you wilfully expose yourself to danger, he may not interpose\nto avert the consequences.\"\n\nMargaret was silent, and the doctor continued, with an effort,\n\n\"I said your life was precious to me; and though you did not notice\nit, I say it again. I have never had courage till to-day to speak to\nyou about the letter I wrote you at Shellbeach; but it is possible\nfor me to do so now. You did not seem angry with me when I saw you\nat the wedding. Had you forgotten it, or didn't you care for my\nrudeness?\"\n\n\"I cared for it; that is, of course, I was sorry, perhaps hurt;\nstill, not for a moment angry or offended. I knew that you were not\ncruel but kind, for you told the truth; and any thing except the\ntruth would have been unkindness. I honored you for writing it.\"\n\n\"Yet it was not the truth; although in writing it I sincerely and\nhonestly believed it to be the truth. I said I did not love you; I\nbelieved I did not love you; but I had no sooner read your letter\nthan scales seemed to fall from my eyes. You see, I was sure that\nyou were perfectly indifferent to me; and I thought you would write\nme a polite letter, expressing friendship, esteem, etc., and regret\nif I had suffered disappointment; and then that you would go off\nto New York and leave me to support the downfall of my hopes as\nbest I might. I was sure of this, and your parting words that night\nseemed to confirm me in it. 'She wishes to part friends,' I thought\nto myself, 'because she believes she is going to ruin my hopes of\nhappiness.' I was filled with unpleasant and bitter feelings. I read\nyour letter, and the ground seemed to go from under my feet, and I\nrealized what a blind fool I had been. I felt then but one longing,\nwhich I feel still, although I know its uselessness and absurdity:\nthat you might be, by some chance, stripped of your fortune to the\nlast cent, that I might lay my poor little pittance at your feet and\nimplore your acceptance of it.\n\n\"Oh! if I could tell you what I endured. Shellbeach became unbearable\nto me; all life and interest seemed to have left me. How I missed\nyou! You can never imagine it, and I cannot describe it. The more I\nthought of you, the more wretched I became, and after that wedding I\nfelt tenfold worse. I went home to my mother for a change; and then\nresolved to put you completely out of my head, and, as an assistance,\nresumed my study of Catholicity, that I had for a time neglected.\nThen, though I blush to own it, and would not risk my standing in\nyour estimation by telling you of it except that it proves my love\nfor you, the only thing which deterred me from entering the church\nwas the thought that I should lose your esteem, and that it would\ncompletely cut me off from any chance I might ever have again of\nwinning you for my wife. Your second letter came, and seemed as an\nanswer from heaven, 'Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith?' You\nknow the rest--but I cannot go on. Even supported by the blessed\nsympathy we have in our faith, I cannot ask for what my heart craves.\"\n\n\"Dr. James, you seem to feel as if you were before me as a criminal\nbefore his judge. Now you have done only what was right and true\ntoward me, and you owe me no apology for any thing. You and I, I\nbelieve, have done each other real good, and we have mutually helped\neach other into the church; we stand on equal ground, and I will\naccept no other position.\"\n\nDr. James looked searchingly at her, and said in a low voice,\n\n\"You do me good and make me feel like myself. Then, Margaret, though\nI am not worthy of you, will you be my wife?\"\n\nMargaret laid her hand in his,\n\n\"I will, if God allows me so much happiness.\"\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIV.\n\nTHE SEVENTH SACRAMENT.\n\nMargaret was unwilling to leave New York; but the doctor insisted,\nand a compromise was effected. She was to stay through July, and\ncomplete the preparations for her marriage; for that was to take\nplace in August, and they would go for their wedding journey to visit\nMrs. James in Maine. Margaret expressed a strong wish to be married\nat Sealing, and the plan was very pleasant to Dr. James; so a week\nbefore the day appointed, she went to her aunt, Miss Spelman's. There\nshe spent a happy week, visiting her friends among the poor, and\nhearing from them about the goodness and kind deeds of their favorite\ndoctor, whom they seemed to regard in the light of a good angel.\nMartha Burney was also at Miss Spelman's, and the doctor came two\ndays before the fifteenth, so it was a very merry and happy household.\n\nThe feast of the Assumption of Our Lady was as beautiful a day as\never shone on a happy bride; the bells rang as if for a public\ncelebration; for Dr. James was beloved by every one and Margaret was\nvery popular. The time was nine o'clock; for the bride and bridegroom\nwere fasting. Margaret's dress was white, with veil, orange-blossoms,\nand every thing as it should be; she had inclined very much to be\nmarried in her travelling dress; but the doctor wanted white, and she\nthought besides, that a gay, showy wedding would give pleasure to\nmany of the guests.\n\nFather Barry said that it was like the marriage feast in the Gospel;\nfor the deaf, the halt, and the blind were well represented.\nMargaret's \"friends\" were many, and the more aristocratic inhabitants\nof Sealing and Shellbeach were rather surprised to find themselves in\nclose neighborhood with the McNallys, O'Neills, and O'Flahertys, who\nwere put in the best places, and were perfectly at home in their own\nchurch.\n\nThe high altar, and those of the Blessed Virgin and St. Joseph, were\ncovered with flowers; and a fine new set of vestments and sacred\nvessels, presented by the bride and bridegroom elect, were used for\nthe first time.\n\nIt seemed to Margaret and to Dr. James a beautiful circumstance,\nthough a natural one, that they had neither of them ever seen a\nnuptial mass before this, their own. Nor had they realized what\nmarriage might be, until they studied the wonderful office of that\nchurch that has elevated the natural union of man and woman to the\ndignity of a sacrament, which St. Paul declares to be typical of the\nunion of our Lord with his spouse, the church. They were profoundly\nimpressed with the thought that the holy of holies was to be offered\nupon the altar on that day, the happiest of their lives--for them,\nfor their happiness and blessing; and that, as God was to descend\nfrom heaven, as it were, in their honor, so they should offer their\nnew life for his greater honor and glory.\n\nHow is it possible that Catholics should ever forego this privilege\nof the nuptial mass, and avail themselves only of the form absolutely\nrequired by the church? Do they not realize that in sanctifying the\nfirst day of their wedded life by assisting together at the sacrifice\nof the mass, and as their first united action, receiving their Lord\nunto their hearts, they draw down a blessing on all that is to follow?\n\nNever had Margaret felt so pure a joy as when, kneeling beside the\none she loved best in the world, she heard the solemn benediction\npronounced upon them, and the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob\nbesought to \"himself fulfil his blessing\" upon them. Never had Dr.\nJames realized so fully his happiness as when he heard the beautiful\nprayer offered for his bride, and the virtues of Rachel, Rebecca, and\nSarah invoked for her.\n\nAnd when, in the little instruction which Father Barry gave them, he\nsaid they might indeed hope that Jesus and Mary had been present at\ntheir wedding, as at that of Cana in Galilee, they felt as if they\nhad received a favor similar to the one then bestowed; for, as the\nwater was turned into wine, was not their natural rejoicing changed\ninto a joy more pure and sublime than earth can bestow?\n\nThe married couple, and every Catholic in the church, remained on\ntheir knees for some time after mass was ended, and, as one of the\nspectators afterward said, \"The happy pair behaved as if they were by\nno means the most important persons present.\" Martha Burney heard the\nremark, and immediately replied,\n\n\"You must remember that they recognized the presence of the Lord\nJesus, surrounded by legions of holy angels;\" to which remark the\nfirst speaker was too much astonished to make any answer.\n\nOn his return to Miss Spelman's house, Dr. James was greatly\nsurprised to find standing at the gate an elegant little doctor's\nchaise, with a very beautiful horse; a plainly dressed man stood by\nits head, whom the doctor recognized as a mechanic whose life he had\nsaved when he was lying at death's door with smallpox. As he spoke to\nhim pleasantly, the man took off his hat and said,\n\n\"If you please, doctor, this is a present from all your patients.\"\n\nIt was the kind thought of a kind heart, and the author of it,\nhimself indebted to the doctor's devoted care, had gone in person to\nevery house within twenty miles, inquiring who had been treated by\nDr. James, and proposing to each a small contribution.\n\n\"They only wanted to give too much,\" he said to the doctor afterward;\n\"but all, even the very poorest, gave something.\"\n\n\nCHAPTER XXV.\n\nTHE MISTRESS OF A POOR MAN'S HOUSEHOLD.\n\nAfter a fortnight spent very happily in Maine, Dr. and Mrs. James\ncame back to New York, bringing with them the doctor's youngest\nsister, Lucy, to make a long visit. Martha Burney had been left in\ncharge of the house, and had received a warm invitation to consider\nit her home; but she only replied that she would think about it.\n\nOn arriving at home, (for it was decided to begin their married life\nin the house that Margaret had already bought and furnished,) and\nasking eagerly for her friend, Margaret was informed that Miss Burney\nhad gone away that day, and left a note to explain. It was as follows:\n\n     \"MY DEAREST MARGARET: Do not think, by my leaving your house, that\n     I do not appreciate the hospitality that you and your husband have\n     offered me, or that I am ungrateful for it. But I could never\n     consent to live upon you always; and I thought it better, while I\n     am strong and healthy, to enter on the life in which I should be\n     glad to be found at death. I have consulted with M. Sainc\u00e8re, and\n     he encourages me to hope that my vocation may be a religious one;\n     and the sympathy and affection I feel for the Sisters of Charity,\n     which I believe you share with me, leads me to seek my home and\n     work among them, at the house we visited together on the Hudson\n     River. There I shall remain for the present as a boarder, till I\n     am quite sure what is God's will for me; but I may tell you, in\n     confidence, that I have in mind the work of teaching the poor and\n     abandoned little ones of this great city.\n\n     \"I cannot express the joy which comes to my heart when I think\n     that my life, which since my father's death has seemed to me\n     aimless and unprofitable, may be devoted in the humblest way to\n     the service of God and his holy church. Rejoice with me, my dear\n     friend, in the midst of your own great happiness. God grant that\n     we may both be worthy of the favors he has bestowed on us! I pray\n     him to grant his blessing to you and yours.\n\n     \"With love and congratulations to you and your husband; I remain,\n     in the heart of Jesus, your faithful friend,\n\n                                   \"MARTHA BURNEY.\n\n     \"NEW YORK, Sept. 1.\"\n\nThat evening, when Lucy, tired with her long journey, had gone\nup-stairs, Margaret and Dr. James sat together in the parlor talking.\nThe windows were open, and there was a refreshing breeze; the\nmoonlight lay brightly on the floor, but except that, the room was\ndark.\n\n\"I tremble sometimes,\" said Dr. James, \"when I think of the broad\npath of sunshine in which I am walking, and see that every wish\nis fulfilled. I have left Shellbeach with none but friends behind\nme; I have health and strength; money enough for necessaries,\nsuperfluities, and charities; the noblest and handsomest wife in the\nworld; the best and only religion to love and serve with her; the\nangels and saints for friends and comrades; a living God to worship,\nand the hope of heaven hereafter. But O Margaret! the words of St.\nPaul are very often with me now, 'But God forbid that I should glory,\nsave in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.' We have not much to make\nus remember the cross now; but let us try, at least, to be ready for\nit when it comes to us.\"\n\n\"We will not forget it. I will write those words this night in the\nprayer-book Father Barry gave me for my wedding present.\"\n\nAnd when they said their prayers, Margaret opened the blank page at\nthe beginning of the book, and, showing it to her husband, pointed to\nthis inscription, written by Father Barry, \"The Lord is merciful to\nthose whom he foreknoweth shall be his by faith and good works;\" and\nbelow she had herself added these words,\n\n\"But God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord\nJesus Christ.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE EARLY HISTORY OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH ON THE ISLAND OF NEW-YORK.\n\nTHE REPUBLIC.\n\n\nThe history of Catholicity in colonial days, with its romance, its\nterrors, and the last impotent struggles of fanatical opposition\nhave, we trust, not been without interest. The peace opened New-York\nto Catholic immigration, and the influence of the French officers, of\nboth army and navy, had done much to dispel prejudice. The church to\nwhich Rochambeau, La Fayette, De Kalb, Pulaski, De Grasse, Vandreuil\nbelonged was socially and politically respectable--nay, it was not\nantagonistic to American freedom.\n\nThe founder of the Catholic congregation had looked anxiously forward\nto this moment.\n\nThe venerable Father Farmer came on to resume his labors, and gather\nsuch Catholics as the seven years' war had left or gathered. His\nvisits and pastoral care, then resumed, were continued till the\narrival of the Rev. Charles Whelan, an Irish Franciscan, who had been\nchaplain on one of the vessels belonging to the fleet of the Count\nde Grasse. He was the first regularly settled priest in the city of\nNew York. Catholicity thus had a priest, but as yet no church. Mass\nwas said near Mr. Stoughton's house, on Water street; in the house\nof Don Diego de Gardoqui, the Spanish ambassador; in a building\nin Vauxhall Garden, between Chambers and Warren streets; and in a\nloft over a carpenter shop on Barclay street. An Italian nobleman,\nCount Castiglioni, mentions his attending mass in a room any thing\nbut becoming so solemn an act of religious worship. The use of a\ncourt-room in the Exchange was solicited from the city authorities,\nbut refused. Then the little band of Catholics took heart and\nresolved to rear an edifice that would lift its cross-crowned spire\nin the land. It is a sign of the good feeling that had to some extent\nobtained, that Trinity church sold the Catholic body the five lots of\nground they desired for the erection of their church. Here, at the\ncorner of Barclay and Church streets, the corner-stone of St. Peter's\nchurch was laid November 4th, 1786, by Don Diego de Gardoqui, as\nrepresentative of Charles III., King of Spain, whose aid to the work\nentitles him to be regarded as its chief benefactor.\n\nThis pioneer Catholic church was a modest structure forty-eight\nfeet in front by eighty-one in depth. Its progress was slow; and\ndivine worship was performed in it for some years before the vestry,\nportico, pews, gallery, and steeple were at last completed in 1792.\n\nThe congregation, living so long amid a Protestant population whose\nsystem Halleck describes so truly,\n\n    \"They reverence their priest; but disagreeing\n    In price or creed, dismiss him without fear,\"\n\nhad adopted some of their ideas, and forgetting that the mass was a\nsacrifice, and the peculiar and only worship of God, thought that an\neloquent sermon was every thing. A vehement and impassioned preacher\nit was their great ambition to secure, and as the trustees controlled\nmatters almost absolutely, the earlier priests had to endure much\nhumiliation and actual suffering.\n\nThe reader will find this period of struggle well described in Bishop\nBayley's pages, with the culmination of the evils of trusteeism in\nthe bankruptcy of St. Peter's.\n\nA pastor was at last found who filled the difficult position. This\nwas the Rev. William O'Brien, assisted after a time by Doctor\nMatthew O'Brien, whose reputation as a preacher was such that a\nvolume of his sermons had been printed in Ireland. Under their care\nthe difficulties began to diminish; the congregation took a regular\nform, and the young were trained to their Christian duties; and the\ndevotion of the Catholic clergy during the visits of that dreadful\nscourge, the yellow fever, gave them an additional claim to the\nreverence and respect of their flock.\n\nBeside the church soon sprang up the school. The Catholics of New\nYork signalized the opening of the nineteenth century by establishing\na free school at St. Peter's, which before many years could report an\naverage attendance of five hundred pupils.\n\nThis progress of Catholicity naturally aroused some of the old\nbitterness of prejudice.\n\nThe sermons of the Protestant pulpits at this period exulting over\nthe captivity and death of Pius VI. produced their natural result\nin awakening the evil passions of the low and ignorant. The old\nprejudices revived against Catholics with all their wonted hostility.\nThe first anti-Catholic riot occurred in 1806, as a result. On\nChristmas eve, some ruffians attempted to force their way into St.\nPeter's church during the midnight mass, in order to see the Infant\nrocked in the cradle which they were taught to believe Catholics then\nworshipped. The _Brief Sketch_ details the unfortunate event from the\npapers of the day.\n\nFrom that time anti-Catholic excitements have been pretty regular in\ntheir appearance; for a time, indeed, eleven years was as sure to\nbring one, under some new name, as fourteen years did the pestilent\nlocusts. Yet mob violence has been less frequently and less terribly\nshown in New York than in some other cities with higher claims to\norder and dignity.\n\nOnce we remember how a mob, flushed with the sacking of a Protestant\nchurch where a negro and a white had been married, resolved to close\ntheir useful labors by demolishing St. Patrick's cathedral. They\nmarched valorously almost to the junction of the Bowery and Prince\nstreet, but halted on the suggestion of a tradesman there, that a\nreconnoissance would be a wise movement. A few were detached to\nexamine the road. The look up Prince street was not encouraging. The\npaving-stones had actually been carried up in baskets to the upper\nstories of the houses, ready to hurl on the assailants; and the wall\naround the churchyard was pierced for musketry. The mob retreated\nwith creditable celerity; but all that night a feverish anxiety\nprevailed around St. Patrick's cathedral; men stood ready to meet any\nnew advance, and the mayor, suddenly riding up, was in some danger,\nbut was fortunately recognized.\n\nWhat might have been the scenes in New York in 1844, when murder ran\nriot in Philadelphia! The Natives had just elected a mayor; the city\nwould in a few days be in their hands; a public meeting was called\nin the park, and all seemed to promise a repetition of the scenes\nin the sister city. A bold, stern extra issued from the office of\n_The Freeman's Journal_ that actually sent terror into the hearts of\nthe would-be rioters. It was known at once that the Catholics would\ndefend their churches to the last gasp. The firm character of the\narchbishop was well known, and with that to animate the people the\nstruggle would not be a trifling one.\n\nThe call for the meeting was countermanded and New York was saved;\nfew knew from what.\n\nTo return to the earlier days of the century. If attacks were made,\ninquiry was stimulated. Conversions to the truth were neither few\nnor unimportant. Bishop Bayley mentions briefly the reception into\nthe church of one nearly related to himself, Mrs. Eliza Ann Seton,\ndaughter of the celebrated Doctor Bayley, and widow of William Seton,\na distinguished New York merchant. Born on Staten Island, and long\nresident in New York, gracing a high social position by her charming\nand noble character, she made her first communion in St. Peter's\nchurch on the 25th of March, 1805, and in a few years, giving herself\nwholly to God, became, under him, the foundress in the United States\nof the Sisters of Charity, whose quiet labors of love, and charity,\nand devotedness in the cause of humanity and education in every city\nin the land seek no herald here below, but are written deep in the\nhearts of grateful millions.\n\nSeveral Protestant clergymen in those days returned to the bosom\nof unity, such as the Rev. Mr. Kewley, of St. George's church, New\nYork; Rev. Calvin White, ancestor of the Shakespeare scholar, Richard\nGrant White; and Mr. Ironsides. Strange, too, was the conversion of\nthe Rev. Mr. Richards, sent from New York as a Methodist preacher to\nWestern New York and Canada. We follow him, by his diary, through the\nsparse settlements which then dotted that region, whence he extended\nhis labors to Montreal. There, good man, in the zeal of his heart he\nthought to conquer Canadian Catholicity by storming the Sulpitian\nseminary at Montreal, converting all there, and so triumphantly\nclosing the campaign. His diary of travel goes no further. Mr.\nRichards died a few years since, a zealous and devoted Sulpitian\npriest of the seminary at Montreal.\n\nNew York was too far from Baltimore to be easily superintended by the\nbishop of that see. His vast diocese was now to be divided, and this\ncity was erected into an episcopal see in 1808, by Pope Pius VII. The\nchoice for the bishop who was to give form to the new diocese, fell\nupon the Rev. Luke Concanen, a learned and zealous Dominican, long\nconnected with the affairs of his order at Rome. Bishop Bayley gives\na characteristic letter of his. He had persistently declined a see\nin Ireland with its comparative comforts and consolations among a\nzealous people; but the call to a position of toil, the establishment\nof a new diocese in a new land, where all was to be created, was\nnot an appeal that he could disregard. He submitted to the charge\nimposed upon him, and after receiving episcopal consecration at\nRome, prepared to reach his see, wholly ignorant of what he should\nfind on his arrival in New York. It was, however, no easy matter then\nto secure passage. Failing to find a ship at Leghorn, he proceeded\nto Naples; but the French, who had overrun Italy, detained him as a\nBritish subject, and while thus thwarted and harassed, he suddenly\nfell sick and died. Thus New York never beheld its first bishop.\n\nThen followed a long vacancy, highly prejudicial to the progress of\nthe church, but a vacancy that European affairs caused. The successor\nof St. Peter was torn from Rome, and held a prisoner in France. The\nCatholic world knew not under what influence acts might be issued as\nhis, that were really the inventions of his enemies. The bishops in\nIreland addressed a letter to the bishops of the United States to\npropose some settled line of action in all cases where there was not\nevidence that the pope was a free agent. The reply of the bishops in\nthe United States is given in the volume before us.\n\nMeanwhile, the Archbishop of Baltimore extended his care to the\ndiocese of New York. When Father O'Brien at last sank under his\nincreasing years, New York would have seen its Catholic population in\na manner destitute, had not the Jesuit fathers of Maryland come to\ntheir assistance. Rev. Anthony Kohlmann, a man of sound theological\nlearning and great zeal, who died many years after at Rome, honored\nby the sovereign pontiffs, was the administrator of the diocese.\nWith him were Rev. Benedict Fenwick, subsequently Bishop of Boston,\nand Rev. Peter Malou, whose romantic life would form an interesting\nvolume; for few who recollect this venerable priest, in his day\nsuch a favorite with the young, knew that he had figured in great\npolitical events, and in the struggle of Belgium for freedom had led\nher armies.\n\nUnder the impulse of these fathers a collegiate institution was\nopened, and continued for some years on the spot where the new\nmagnificent cathedral is rising; and old New York Catholics smiled\nwhen a recent scribbler asserted that the site of that noble edifice\nwas a gift from the city. Trinity, the Old Brick church, and some\nother churches we could name were built on land given by the ruling\npowers, but no Catholic church figures in the list. The college was\nfinally closed, from the fact that difficulties in Maryland prevented\nthe order from supplying necessary professors to maintain its high\nposition.\n\nTo secure to young ladies similar advantages for superior education,\nsome Ursuline nuns were induced to cross the Atlantic. They were\nhailed with joy, and their academy was wonderfully successful. The\nsuperior was a lady whose appearance was remarkably striking, and\nwhose cultivation and ability impressed all. Unfortunately they came\nunder restrictions which soon deprived New York of them. Unless\nnovices joined them within a certain number of years, they were to\nreturn to Ireland.\n\nIn a new country vocations could be only a matter of time, and as the\nUrsuline order required a dowry, the vocations of all but wealthy\nyoung ladies were excluded, and even of these when subject to a\nguardian.\n\nAs the Catholic body had increased, a new church was begun in a spot\nthen far out of the city, described as between the Broadway and the\nBowery road. This was old St. Patrick's, of which the corner-stone\nwas laid June 8th, 1809. This was to be the cathedral of the future\nbishop; and the Orphan Asylum, now thriving under the care of an\nincorporated society, was ere long to be placed near the new church.\n\nDuring this period a strange case occurred in a New York court\nthat settled for that State, at least, a question of importance to\nCatholics. It settled as a principle of law that the confession of a\nCatholic to a priest was a privileged communication, which the priest\ncould not be called upon or permitted to reveal.\n\n     \"Restitution had been made to a man named James Keating, through\n     the Rev. Father Kohlmann, of certain goods which had been stolen\n     from him. Keating had previously made a complaint against one\n     Philips and his wife, as having received the goods thus stolen,\n     and they were indicted for a misdemeanor before the justices\n     of the peace. Keating having afterward stated that the goods\n     had been restored to him through the instrumentality of Father\n     Kohlmann, the latter was cited before the court, and required to\n     give evidence in regard to the person or persons from whom he had\n     received them. This he refused to do, on the ground that no court\n     could require a priest to give evidence in regard to matters known\n     to him only under the seal of confession. Upon the case being sent\n     to the grand-jury, Father Kohlmann was subpoenaed to attend before\n     them, and appeared in obedience to the process, but in respectful\n     terms again declined answering. On the trial which ensued, Father\n     Kohlmann was again cited to appear as a witness in the case.\n     Having been asked certain questions, he entreated that he might\n     be excused, and offered his reasons to the court. With consent\n     of counsel, the question was put off for some time, and finally\n     brought on for argument on Tuesday, the 8th of June, 1813, before\n     a court composed of the Hon. De Witt Clinton, mayor of the city;\n     the Hon. Josiah Ogden Hoffman, recorder; and Isaac S. Douglass,\n     and Richard Cunningham, Esqs., sitting aldermen. The Hon. Richard\n     Riker, afterward for so many years recorder of the city, and\n     Counsellor Sampson, volunteered their services in behalf of Father\n     Kohlmann....\n\n     \"The decision was given by De Witt Clinton at some length. Having\n     shown that, according to the doctrine and practice of the Catholic\n     Church, a priest who should reveal what he had heard in the\n     confessional would become infamous and degraded in the eyes of\n     Catholics, and as no one could be called upon to give evidence\n     which would expose him to infamy, he declared that the only way\n     was to excuse a priest from answering in such cases.\"\n\nThis decision, by the influence of De Witt Clinton, when Governor of\nthe State, was incorporated into the Revised Statutes as part of the\n_lex scripta_ of the State.\n\nWith this period, too began the publication of Catholic works in New\nYork, which has since attained such a wonderful development. Bernard\nDornin stands as the patriarch of the Catholic book trade of New\nYork, of which an interesting sketch will be found in the appendix to\nBishop Bayley's work. He also gives a list of subscribers to some of\nthe earliest works, which will possess no little interest to older\nCatholic families, who can here claim ancestors as not only Catholic,\nbut devoted to their faith, and anxious to spread its literature. We\nhave looked over the list, and amid familiar names have endeavored\nto find the oldest now living. If we do not err greatly, it is the\ndistinguished lawyer Charles O'Conor, Esq.\n\nWhen Pope Pius VII. was restored to Rome, another son of St. Dominic\nwas chosen; and the Rev. John Connolly was consecrated the second\nbishop of New York. After making such arrangements as he could in\nIreland for the good of his diocese, he set sail from Dublin, but\nexperienced a long and dangerous passage. From the absence of all\nnotice of any kind, except the mere fact of his name among the\npassengers, his reception was apparently a most private one. He was\nutterly a stranger in a strange land, called from the studies of the\ncloister to form and rule a diocese of considerable extent, without\nany previous knowledge of the wants of his flock, and utterly without\nresources.\n\nHis diocese, which embraced the State of New York and part of New\nJersey, contained but four priests, three belonging to the Jesuits\nin Maryland, and liable to be called away at any moment, as two were\nalmost immediately after his arrival. The college and convent had\ndisappeared, and the church seemed to have lost in all but numbers.\nThirteen thousand Catholics were to be supplied with pastors, and\nyet the trustee system stood a fearful barrier in his way. As Bishop\nBayley well observes,\n\n     \"The trustee system had not been behind its early promise, and\n     trustees of churches had become so accustomed to have every thing\n     their own way, that they were not disposed to allow even the\n     interference of a bishop.\n\n     \"In such a state of things, he was obliged to assume the office of\n     a missionary priest, rather than a bishop; and many still living\n     remember the humility and earnest zeal with which he discharged\n     the laborious duties of the confessional, and traversed the city\n     on foot to attend upon the poor and sick.\n\n     \"Bishop Connolly was not lacking in firmness, but the great wants\n     of his new diocese made it necessary for him to fall in, to a\n     certain extent, with the established order of things, and this\n     exposed him afterward to much difficulty and many humiliations.\"\n\nYet he secured some good priests and ecclesiastical students from\nKilkenny College, whom he gradually raised to the priesthood, his\nfirst ordination and the first conferring of the sacrament of holy\norders in the city being that of the Rev. Michael O'Gorman in 1815.\nOne only of the priests ordained by this first bishop occupying the\nsee of New York still survives, the Rev. John Shanahan, now at St.\nPeter's church, Barclay street.\n\nUnder the care of Bishop Connolly the Sisters of Charity began their\nlabors in the city so long the home of Mother Seton; and, so far as\nhis means permitted him to yield to his zeal, he increased the number\nof churches and congregations in his diocese.\n\nThe _Brief Sketch_ gives his portrait, as well as that of his\npredecessor.\n\nAfter an episcopate of nearly ten years, the bishop was taken ill on\nhis return from the funeral of his first ordained priest, and soon\nfollowed him to the grave. He died at No. 512 Broadway, on the 5th\nof February, 1825, and was buried under the cathedral, after having\nbeen exposed for two days in St. Peter's church. The ceremonial was\nimposing and attracted general attention, and the remarks of the\npapers of the day show the respect entertained for him by all classes\nof citizens.\n\nThe next bishop of New York was one well known in the country by his\nlabors, especially by his successful exertions in giving the church\nin our republic a college and theological seminary suited to its\nwants--Mount St. Mary's College at Emmettsburg, Maryland. The life\nof the Rev. John Du Bois had been varied. Born in Paris, he was in\ncollege a fellow-student of Robespierre and Camille Desmoulins; but\nactuated by far different thoughts from those which filled the brains\nof such men, he devoted himself to the service of God. The revolution\nfound him a laborious priest at Paris. Escaping in disguise from\nFrance during the Reign of Terror, through the connivance of his old\nfellow-collegian, Robespierre, he came to America, bearing letters\nof introduction from La Fayette to eminent personages in the United\nStates.\n\n     \"Having received faculties from Bishop Carroll, he exercised\n     the holy ministry in various parts of Virginia and Maryland. He\n     lived for some time with Mr. Monroe, afterward President of the\n     United States, and in the family of Gov. Lee, of Maryland. After\n     the death of Father Frambach, he took charge of the mission of\n     Frederick in Maryland, of which mission he may be said in reality\n     to have been the founder. When he arrived there, he celebrated\n     mass in a large room which served as a chapel, and afterward\n     built the first church. But though Frederick was his headquarters,\n     he did not confine himself to it, but made stations throughout all\n     the surrounding country, at Montgomery, Winchester, Hagerstown,\n     and Emmettsburg, everywhere manifesting the same earnest zeal and\n     indomitable perseverance. Bishop Brut\u00e9 relates, as an instance of\n     his activity and zeal, that once, after hearing confessions on\n     Saturday evening, he rode during the night to near Montgomery, a\n     distance of thirty-five to forty miles, to administer the last\n     sacraments to a dying woman, and was back hearing confessions in\n     the morning, at the Mountain, singing high mass and preaching,\n     without scarcely any one knowing that he had been absent at all.\n\n     \"In 1808, the Rev. Mr. Du Bois, having previously become a member\n     of the Society of St. Sulpice, in Baltimore, went to reside at\n     Emmettsburg, and laid the foundation of Mount St. Mary's College,\n     which was afterward destined to be the means of so much usefulness\n     to the Catholic Church in America. From this point, now surrounded\n     by so many hallowed associations in the minds of American\n     Catholics, by the sound religious education imparted to so many\n     young men from various parts of the United States, 'by the many\n     fervent and holy priests, trained under his direction,' and by\n     the prudent care with which he cherished the rising institute of\n     the Sisters of Charity at St. Joseph's, he became the benefactor,\n     not of any particular locality, but of the whole Catholic body\n     throughout the United States.\"\n\nOn coming to his diocese after his consecration in Baltimore in\nOctober, 1826, he found three churches and four or six priests in New\nYork City; a church and one priest at Brooklyn, Albany, and a few\nstations elsewhere. But the trustee system fettered the progress of\nCatholicity.\n\nLong devoted to the cause of education for secular life or the\nservice of the altar, Bishop Du Bois's fondest desire was to endow\nhis diocese with another Mount St. Mary's, but all his efforts\nfailed. A hospital was also one of his early projects; but these and\nother good works could spring up only when the way had been prepared\nby his trials, struggles, and sufferings.\n\nDuring his administration the number of Catholics increased greatly,\nand new churches sprang up in the city and other parts of the\ndiocese. Of these various foundations and the zealous priests of\nthat day many interesting details are given, to which we can but\nrefer--the erection of St. Mary's, Christ church, Transfiguration,\nSt. Joseph's, St. Nicholas's, St. Paul's at Harlem. The services of\nthe Very Rev. Doctor Power, of Rev. Felix Varela, of Rev. Messrs.\nLevins and Schueller, and other clergymen of that day are not yet\nforgotten.\n\nThe excitement caused by the Act of Catholic Emancipation in England\nhad its counterpart here, stimulated too by jealousy at the influx\nof foreign labor. The church had had her day of penal laws and wild\nexcitement; now war was to be made through the press. About 1835 it\nbegan in New York. The use of falsehood against Catholicity seems to\nbe considered by some one of the higher virtues. Certainly there is\na strange perversion of conscience on the point. The anti-Catholic\nliterature of that period is a curiosity that must cause some cheeks\nto tingle if there is any manhood left. They took up Fulkes's\n_Confutation of the Rhemish Testament_, reprinted the text from\nit, and affixed to it a certificate of several clergymen that it\nwas a reprint from the original published at Rheims. It was not.\nThey caught up a poor creature from a Magdalen asylum in Montreal,\nand concocted a book, laying the scene in the H\u00f4tel Dieu, commonly\ncalled the Convent of the Black Nuns, at Montreal. The book was so\ninfamous that the Harpers issued it under the name of Howe & Bates.\nIt was published daily in _The Sun_ newspaper, and had an immense\ncirculation. Colonel William L. Stone, a zealous Protestant, went to\nthe spot, and, there convinced of the fraud, published an exposure\nof the vile slanders. He was assailed in a satire called _The Vision\nof Rubeta_, and the pious Protestant community swallowed the filthy\ndetails. At last there arose a quarrel over the spoils. A triangular\nlawsuit between the Harpers, the Rev. Mr. Slocum, and Maria Monk in\nthe court of chancery gave some strange disclosures, more startling\nthan the fictitious ones of the book. Vice-Chancellor McCoun in\ndisgust turned them out of his court, and told them to go before a\njury; but none of them dared to face twelve honest men.\n\nA paper called _The Downfall of Babylon_ flourished for a time on\nthis anti-Catholic feeling, reeking with lewdness and impurity. At\nlast their heroine and tool, Maria Monk, cast off and scouted, ended\nher days on Blackwell's Island.\n\nAmong the curiosities of this period was a work of S. F. B. Morse,\n(we used in our younger days to think the initials stood for Savage\nFurious Bigot,) entitled _Brutus, or a Foreign Conspiracy against\nthe Liberties of the United States_. The queen of France had given\nthe Bishop of St. Louis some altar paintings, and herein was the\nconspiracy. We saw a picture the other day of Mr. Morse with the\nstars of several foreign orders of knighthood on his breast; he has\nreceived many, some from Catholic sovereigns, and, we believe, one\nfrom the pope. Brutus should certainly take him in hand; for some of\nthese orders require knights to swear to things that would be rather\nawkward for a zealous Protestant to undertake. _Et tu Brute!_\n\nThe controversies of that day would furnish matter for an article in\nthemselves. They were the topic of the day, and led to many curious\nscenes. Among the Catholic controvertists, the Rev. Mr. Levins was\nparticularly incisive and effective; Rev. Mr. Varela dealt gentler\nbut heavy blows, being keen in argument and sound in learning. A\ntract on the five different Bibles of the American Bible Society\nwas one of those occasions where, departing from the defensive,\nthe Catholic apologist assumed the offensive. And this time it\nwas highly offensive. At that time the Bible Society published a\nSpanish Bible, and Testaments in French, Spanish, and Portuguese,\nall Catholic versions, merely omitting the notes of the Catholic\ntranslators. _Appleton's Cyclop\u00e6dia_ asserts that \"the American Bible\nSociety, made up of materials more thoroughly Puritanic, and less\nLutheran and continental, ... has never published any other than the\ncanonical (Protestant) books;\" but this is not so. The Spanish Bible\nof 1824 contains the very books which in other editions they reject\nabsolutely. It is true that in the edition of 1825 they left them out\nof the body of the book, but kept them in the list of books. After\nthat they disappeared, while the title-page still falsely professed\nto give the _Bible_ translated by Bishop Scio de San Miguel, without\nthe slightest intimation that part of Bishop Scio's work was omitted.\nWe once bought Bagster's edition of the Vulgate, and found ourselves\nthe victim of a similar fraud.\n\nMr. Varela exposed the inconsistency of their publishing in one\nlanguage as inspired what they rejected in another; of translating\na passage in one sense in one volume, and in another in a Bible\nstanding beside it. The subject caused a sensation. After\ndeliberating on the matter, it was determined to suppress all these\nCatholic versions; they were accordingly withdrawn. The stereotype\nplates were melted up; and the printed copies were, as we were\nassured, committed to the flames, although it took some time to\neffect this greatest Bible-burning ever witnessed in New York.\n\nMeanwhile New York was not without its organs of Catholic sentiment.\n_The Truth-Teller_ was for many years the vehicle of information and\ndefence. The editor, William Denman, still survives to witness the\nprogress made since that day when he battled almost alone among the\npress of the land. _The Catholic Diary_, and _The Green Banner_, and\n_The Freeman's Journal_ followed.\n\nWhile the controversy fever lasted, some curious scenes took place.\nCatholics, especially poor servant-girls, were annoyed at all times\nand in all places, in the street, at the pump--for those were not\ndays of Croton water--and even in their kitchens. One Protestant\nclergyman of New York had quite a reputation for the gross indecency\nthat characterized his valorous attacks of this kind. The servant of\na lady in Beekman street--people in good circumstances lived there\nthen--was a constant object of his zeal. One day, report said, after\ndining with the lady, he descended to the kitchen, and began twitting\nthe girl about the confessional, and coupling this with the grossest\ncharges against the Catholic clergy. The girl bore it for a time,\nand when ordering him out of her realm failed, she seized a poker\nand dealt her indecent assailant a blow on the head that sent him\nstaggering to the stairs. While he groped his way bewildered to the\nparlor, the girl hastened to her room, bundled up her clothes, and\nleft the house. The clergyman was long laid up from the consequence\nof his folly, and every attempt made to hush the matter up; but\nan eccentric Catholic of that day, Joseph Trench, got up a large\ncaricature representing the scene, which went like wild-fire, attack\nbeing always popular, and an attack on the Protestant clergy being\nquite a novelty. Trivial as the whole affair was, it proved more\neffective than the soundest theological arguments, and Mary Ann\nWiggins with her poker really closed the great controversial period.\n\nIt had its good effects, nevertheless, in making Catholics earnest\nin their faith. Their numbers were rapidly increasing, and with them\nchurches and institutions. Besides the Orphan Asylum, an institution\nfor those who had lost only one parent, the Half-Orphan Asylum, was\ncommenced and long sustained, mainly by the zeal and means of Mr.\nGlover, a convert whose name should stand high in the memory of New\nYork Catholics. This institution, now merged in the general Orphan\nAsylum, had in its separate existence a long career of usefulness\nunder the care of the Sisters of Charity.\n\nBishop Du Bois was unremitting in his efforts to increase the number\nof his clergy and the institutions of his diocese. The progress was\nmarked. Besides clergymen from abroad, he ordained, or had ordained,\ntwenty-one who had been trained under his own supervision, and who\ncompleted their divinity studies chiefly at the honored institution\nwhich he had founded in Maryland; among these was Gregory B. Pardow,\nwho was, if we mistake not, the first native of the city elevated to\nthe priesthood. Five of these priests have since been promoted to\nthe episcopacy, as well as two others ordained in his time by his\ncoadjutor.\n\nIn manners, Bishop Du Bois was the polished French gentleman of the\nold _r\u00e9gime_; as a clergyman, learned and strict in his ideas, his\nadministrative powers were always deemed great, but in their exercise\nin his diocese they were constantly thwarted by the trustee system.\nBut he was not one easily intimidated; and when the trustees of the\ncathedral, in order to force him to act contrary to the dictates of\nhis own better judgment, if not his conscience, threatened to deprive\nhim of his salary, he made them a reply that is historical, \"Well,\ngentlemen, you may vote the salary or not, just as seems good to you.\nI do not need much; I can live in the basement or in the garret; but\nwhether I come up from the basement, or down from the garret, I will\nstill be your bishop.\"\n\nHe had passed the vigor of manhood when he was appointed to the see\nof New York, and the constant struggle aged him prematurely. It\nbecame necessary for him to call for a younger hand to assist. The\nposition was one that required a singularly gifted priest. The future\nof Catholicity in New York depended on the selection of one who,\ncombining the learning and zeal of the missionary priest with that\n_donum fam\u00e6_ which gives a man influence over his fellow-men, and\nthat skill in firm but almost imperceptible government which is the\ncharacteristic of a great ruler, could place Catholicity in New York\non a firm, harmonious basis, instinct with the true spirit of life,\nthat would insure its future success. Providence guided the choice.\nSurely no man more confessedly endowed with all these qualities could\nhave been selected than the Rev. John Hughes, trained by Bishop\nDu Bois at Mount St. Mary's, and then a priest of the diocese of\nPhiladelphia, where his dialectic skill had been evinced in a long\nand well-maintained controversy.\n\nThe final overthrow of the trustee system gave the church freedom,\nand new institutions of every kind which had been imperatively\nrequired sprang up. A college at Fordham, the forerunner of the\nseveral Catholic colleges of the State, was soon founded; a convent\nof Ladies of the Sacred Heart, for the education of young ladies;\nSisters of Mercy with their various important labors came to help\nthe good work. But now a large German Catholic immigration began.\nBishop Hughes saw the want and the means; a development of the German\nchurches, especially under the care of the Redemptorist fathers, soon\nfollowed.\n\nThe position of the Catholic children in regard to their\nparticipation in those educational advantages next attracted his\ncare. The prevalent spirit in those institutions for which Catholics\nas well as Protestants were taxed was essentially anti-Catholic; the\nbooks used were often vile in their character, whenever Catholicity\nwas touched upon. Think of Huntington's Geography with a picture at\nAsia of \"Pagan Idolatry,\" and at Italy of \"Roman Catholic Idolatry.\"\nThink of an arithmetic--Pike's, we believe--with a question like\nthis, \"If a pope can pray a soul out of purgatory in three days,\na cardinal in four, and a bishop in six, how long would it take\nall three to pray them out?\" A Catholic girl in the Rutgers Female\nInstitute, when the geography was given to her, happened to open to\nItaly, and, outraged at the wanton insult to her feelings, threw the\nbook on the floor, burst into tears, and left the school; but Rutgers\nFemale Institute could use such books as they chose, and Catholics\ncould send there or elsewhere. It was not a State creation, supported\nby taxes drawn from all; but did any right exist to force Catholics\nto the alternative of submitting to such degrading insults or keep\naloof from schools which they were taxed to support? or rather, the\nquestion was, Could Catholics in the State of New York be compelled\nto support the Protestant church and aid in its extension?\n\nBishop Bayley sketches briefly the other important acts of the\nadministration of Bishop Hughes, and concludes,\n\n     \"But though much has been done, much remains to be accomplished.\n     The 'two hundred Catholics' of 1785 were better provided for\n     than the two hundred thousand who now (1853) dwell within the\n     boundaries of the city of New York. It is true that no exertions\n     could have kept pace with the tide of emigration which has been\n     pouring in upon our shores, especially during the last few years.\n     The number of priests, churches, and schools, rapidly as they have\n     increased, are entirely inadequate to the wants of our Catholic\n     population, and render it imperative that every exertion should\n     be made to supply the deficiency. What has been done so far has,\n     by God's blessing, been accomplished by the Catholics of New York\n     themselves. Comparatively very little assistance has been received\n     from the liberality of our brethren in other countries. And while\n     we have done so much for ourselves, we have contributed liberally\n     toward the erection of churches and other works of piety in\n     various parts of the United States.\n\n     \"Though the Catholic Church in this country has increased much\n     more largely by conversions than is generally supposed, yet,\n     for the most part, its rapid development has been owing to the\n     emigration of Catholics from foreign countries; and, if we desire\n     to make this increase permanent, and to keep the children in the\n     faith of their fathers, we must, above all things, take measures\n     to imbue the minds of the rising generation of Catholics with\n     sound religious principles. This can only be done by giving them a\n     good Catholic education. In our present position, the school-house\n     has become second in importance only to the house of God itself.\n     We have abundant cause for thankfulness to God on account of the\n     many blessings which he has conferred on us; but we will show\n     ourselves unworthy of these blessings if we do not do all that\n     is in our power to promote every good work by which they may be\n     increased and confirmed to those who shall come after us.\"\n\nAnd though we may now rate the number of Catholics in the city at\nfour hundred thousand, the language is still applicable.\n\nThere are now, we may add, forty Catholic churches on the island,\nwith parish schools educating twenty-one thousand children of both\nsexes; houses of Jesuits, Redemptorists, Fathers of Mercy, Paulists,\nFranciscans, Capucins, Dominicans; convents of the Sacred Heart,\nhouses of Sisters of Charity, Sisters of the Good Shepherd, of Notre\nDame, of the order of St. Dominic, of the Poor of St. Francis, and\nof the Third Order of St. Francis; several orphan asylums, two\nhospitals, reformatories for boys and girls, a house of protection\nfor servants, a home for destitute children, a home for aged women,\nand a foundling asylum just begun. Yet it is but true that all this\nis little for the wants of four hundred thousand Catholics.\n\nGlancing back to the early history, we see in all the work of the\nmany. In comparison, we have had fewer men of wealth than those\naround us; but it must also be added that among those few there\nhave been still fewer, in proportion, to identify their names with\nthe great religious works. As we look around through the country,\nwe see great institutions, churches, colleges, libraries, asylums,\neach the act of a single man of wealth; but we cannot show in New\nYork a single such Catholic work. There are monuments in our great\ncemeteries, on each of which more money has been expended than would\nerect a church in some neglected part of New York. Which would be the\nnobler monument?\n\nWe trust that this work, full of interest as it is to all, will\ncirculate widely among the Catholics of New York and bring home\nto all that respect to their predecessors, respect to themselves,\nrequires of all to take in hand earnestly what yet remains to do to\ngive us what are absolutely required for worship, for instruction,\nfor the works of mercy.\n\n\n\n\nCHRISTMAS HYMN.\n\nBY POPE ST. DAMASUS.[127]\n\n\n    Christe potens rerum, redeuntis conditor \u00e6vi,\n    Vox summi sensusque Dei, quem fundit ab alt\u00e2\n    Mente Pater, tantique dedit consortia regni,\n    Impia tu nostr\u00e6 domuisti crimina vit\u00e6,\n    Passus corpore\u00e2 mundum vestire figur\u00e2,\n    Affarique palam populos, hominemque fateri.\n    Virginei tumuere sinus, innuptaque mater\n    Arcano obstupuit compleri viscera partu,\n    Auctorem paritura suum. Mortalia corda\n    Artificem texere poli, mundique repertor\n    Pars fuit humani generis, latuitque sub uno\n    Pectore, qui totum lat\u00e8 complectitur orbem;\n    Et qui non spatiis terr\u00e6, non \u00e6quoris undis,\n    Nec capitur coelo, parvos confluxit in artus.\n    Quin et supplicii nomen nexusque subisti,\n    Ut nos surriperes letho, mortemque fugares\n    Morte tu\u00e2: mox \u00e6thereas evectus in auras,\n    Purgat\u00e2 repetis l\u00e6tum tellure parentem.\n\n\nTRANSLATION.\n\n    Christ, sovereign of all things that be,\n    Wisdom and Word of God! we see\n    A new-born world spring forth from thee.\n\n    God born of God, and who dost share\n    His reign supreme, how didst thou bear\n    The vesture of our dust to wear?\n\n    Unto our race thou didst belong--\n    Didst speak and mingle with the throng,\n    To bear--to triumph over wrong.\n\n    A Virgin's bosom did accord\n    Repose to Him whom she adored;\n    In wonder she brought forth her Lord.\n\n    Who spread aloft the heavens, the day,\n    Who built the world--lo! clothed in clay\n    Hid 'neath one human bosom lay.\n\n    Whose hands the universe uphold,\n    Whom earth, nor seas, nor heavens enfold--\n    Lo! compassed by a mortal mould.\n\n    What anguish didst thou undergo;\n    What woe, to shelter us from woe;\n    What death, from death to save us so;\n\n    Ere from a world redeemed by grace\n    Thou didst return aloft through space\n    To seek the Blessed Father's face.\n\n                            CONSTANTINA E. BROOKS.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[127] St. Damasus was of Spanish extraction. He was elected pope in\nthe year 366, being then sixty years old. During the latter years\nof his life the celebrated St. Jerome acted as his secretary, and\nmentions him in his epistles as \"an incomparable person and a learned\ndoctor.\" He is classed by writers with Basil, Athanasius, Ambrose,\nand such like men, who have been eminent for their zeal, learning,\nand holy lives.\n\nThrough his care many valuable public works were executed. He\nrepaired and beautified the church of St. Laurence near Pompey's\nPillar, and the paintings with which he decorated it were admirable\nfour hundred years afterward. He also drained some of the impure\nsprings of the Vatican, and repaired and adorned with epitaphs in\nverse many of the tombs of the martyrs interred in the Catacombs.\nA collection of nearly forty of those epitaphs is still extant,\nand justifies the praises which St. Jerome bestows on his poetical\ngenius. He is also known as the author of many longer poems.\n\nAfter a life of humility, benevolence, and purity, he died in the\nyear 384, having filled the papal throne eighteen years. He was\nburied in a small oratory near the Ardeatine Way, and his tomb was\nidentified and described in 1736.\n\nA further interest is thrown around this prelate and poet by recent\ninvestigations. In 1851, Pope Pius IX. employed the distinguished\nChevalier G. B. de Rossi to prepare a work illustrating the\ncemeteries which underlie the vineyards of the Via Appia, on each\nside of which are some of the most extensive and most important.\nM. de Rossi found here in fragments, which he put together, an\ninscription in honor of Eusebius, the authorship of which is\ndistinctly ascribed to Damasus--_Damasus Episcopus fecit Eusebio\nEpiscopo et Martyri_.\n\nThe slab of marble on which this was engraved had been used (as was\nseen by marks on the other side) for some public monument in honor of\nthe Emperor Caracalla.\n\n\n\n\nTHE TRUE ORIGIN OF GALLICANISM.[128]\n\n\nA curious book has lately appeared in France. It is not so much the\nproduction of the pen as the result of the judicious industry of M.\nG\u00e9rin, judge of the civil tribunal of Paris. In his introduction\nto the work he says that it is not his intention to write a book,\nbut to put together materials for history and for the better\nunderstanding of a vital question, which has agitated the French\nworld especially for three hundred years--the infallibility of\nthe sovereign pontiff and his superiority to a general council of\nbishops. It would be difficult to exaggerate the speculative value\nas well as the practical importance of this doctrine. M. G\u00e9rin has\nrendered an inestimable service to historic truth and to the church\nby showing the origin of the so-called Gallican doctrine, which\ndenied the infallibility of the pontiff, contrary to the practice and\nopinion that had prevailed among Christians for fifteen or sixteen\nhundred years. It is not our intention to prove the possessive\nor prescriptive right of this doctrine. This has been amply done\nin our day in English by several authors, while the work of the\nbrothers Ballerini and Zaccharia's reply to Hontheim, the well-known\nAnti-Febronius, are open to the study of the learned. What we shall\ndo will be to follow M. G\u00e9rin in showing the base origin of a\nteaching which no array of brilliant names can make legitimate.\n\nAt the outset we acknowledge the difficulty of the task. The work\nis so tersely and so logically compiled that one is at a loss how\nto break in upon so connected a recital, lest it should impair the\neffect of what he selects, by detaching it from its antecedents\nas well as from its consequents. But as all may not, at least for\nsome time, have it in their power to read a translation of this\ninteresting volume, we shall risk something for their information.\n\nIt has been commonly supposed that the Gallican doctrine was\ngenerally held by the French clergy during the reign of Louis XIV.,\nand that in ordering it to be taught throughout his kingdom that\nsovereign only seconded the desire of his prelates and people.\nNever has a more unfounded idea been foisted upon credulity. No\none ever heard of any such doctrine before the Chancellor Gerson\nat the Council of Constance hesitatingly broached it, in order to\napply it, if possible, as a remedy and preventive of schism in the\nchurch. Like all opinions not well ventilated and examined, it found\nsome who favored it, and at the schismatical assembly of Basle it\nacquired a number of followers. These, however, were soon obliged to\nyield; and in the Council of Florence a dogmatic decree was drawn up\nand adopted by the fathers, and confirmed by the sovereign pontiff,\nwhich declared the latter to be possessed of the _full and supreme\njurisdiction of Peter_, and the doctor or teacher of the universal\nchurch--a phrase that implied the infallibility of the pope; for a\nteacher is rightly so called only when he possesses the principles\nof his branch in such a way as to impart the degree of certainty\npeculiar to it. The church possesses the assistance of Christ, and\nis, therefore, infallible; and the organ or teacher of that church\nmust have that same assistance which shall make him infallible.\nOtherwise we would have the, to say the least, strange consequence\nthat ordinarily the church is liable to be misled; extraordinarily\nonly--for councils must from their nature be unusual--is she to be\nregarded as free from error. It should be borne in mind that this\ndefinition of the oecumenical synod, A.D. 1439, was made after\ndue consultation; for when Eugenius IV. had caused his rights and\nprerogatives to be discussed before him by the Greek and Latin\ntheologians, the Greeks, on leaving the presence of the pontiff,\nwent to the emperor of Constantinople, then in Florence, and renewed\nbefore him the examination of the question. The result was, that\nthey did not oppose the teaching of the papal doctors, but merely\nrequired two rights for their party: one, that no council should\nbe called without the emperor; and the other, that in case of\nappeal the patriarchs should not be obliged to present themselves\nfor judgment, but that legates should be sent into the province in\nquestion to try the cause. Not a word was said against the doctrines.\nThe pope refused to grant these requests, and the emperor broke off\nnegotiations. Still, through the mediation of influential prelates\non both sides, they were resumed again immediately; and the Greek\nfathers acknowledged the Roman pontiff \"locum gerentem et vicarium\nChristi, pastorem et doctorem omnium Christianorum, regentem et\ngubernantem Dei Ecclesiam\"--to hold the place of Christ and to be his\nvicar, the pastor and doctor of all Christians, the ruler and head\nof the church. A few days afterward, the formal dogmatic definition\nwas given by the united fathers of both churches, confirmed by the\npope, and subscribed by him, by the cardinals, the emperor John\nPaloeologus, and the Greek and Latin fathers of the council, with\nthe exception of one, Mark, Bishop of Ephesus, whose bad faith in\nquoting the Greek manuscripts was accidentally made known to the\nwhole council. His servant had erased the wrong passage, which fact\nthe bishop did not discover until he was reading the code in public.\nThe words of the definition are these:\n\n     \"We define that the holy apostolic see and the Roman pontiff\n     hold the primacy throughout the whole world; that the same Roman\n     pontiff is the successor of blessed Peter, prince of the apostles,\n     and the true vicar of Christ, the head of the whole church, and\n     the father and doctor of all Christians; that to him, in blessed\n     Peter, was given by our Lord Jesus Christ full power to feed,\n     rule, and govern the universal church, as is contained, also, in\n     the acts of oecumenical councils and in the sacred canons.\"\n\nIt was impossible for Gallican theologians to ignore the force of\nthese words. To elude it they had recourse to the last phrase,\n\"_as_ is contained in the acts of oecumenical councils and in the\nsacred canons,\" and appealed to tradition to explain the meaning\nof the fathers of Florence. Their meaning, however, is clear from\nwhat they determined on a few days before the decision. In their\nwritten declaration that phrase is not found. Moreover, the phrase\nitself is in corroboration of the decision; for in reality tradition\nbears out fully the doctrine it contains. The Greek text of Cardinal\nBessarion has this phrase, ~kat' hon eropon~--\"according to\nthe manner\"--and it is this that the Gallic doctors thought favored\nthem. This wording does not, however, alter the sense we have given.\nWith regard to the phrase itself, learned men, and among them the\nauthor of _Anti-Febronius_, state that in the original document\nsuch an appendage had no existence whatsoever. With this decision\nbefore them, how did it happen that such teaching as at a later date\nobtained the ascendency in France, and in some other parts of Europe,\ncould have met with favor? The work of M. G\u00e9rin answers this question\nclearly, and shows that intrigue and royal influence and power did\nthe work.\n\nThe documents with which he opens his collection refer to the year\n1663. They, for the most part, have hitherto been entirely unknown,\nand were found by M. G\u00e9rin among the MSS. of the time of Louis XIV.\nin the Biblioth\u00e8que Imp\u00e9riale--MSS. Colbert. At that time ill-humor\nexisted between the French and Papal courts, growing out of a quarrel\nbetween the servants of the French ambassador at Rome. This was\nsettled for the moment; but on the appointment of the Duc de Cr\u00e9qui,\nthe feuds were renewed, owing to the disposition of that ambassador,\nwhose pride had been wounded by his having been obliged to pay the\nfirst visits to the relatives of the pope, who were in the first\nplaces of the government. The retainers of the duke on the 12th of\nAugust, 1662, attacked and beat the Corsican guard in the service of\nthe pope. The pope sent an envoy to visit the duke, who pretended\nthat an attempt had been made on his life. Instead of receiving the\nmessenger of the pontiff graciously, he threatened to throw him out\nof the window, and refused all apologies. This was a spark thrown\ninto other inflammable matter that brought on an invasion of the\npapal territory, and other still worse disasters to the church. The\nking, as a consequence of his difficulties with the pope, became\nsurrounded with evilly-disposed counsellors, whom, to do him\njustice, he sometimes curbed. It was during this political trouble\nthat the enemies of Rome sought to deal her a blow fatal to her\ninfluence. The Jansenist opinions had received a severe condemnation\nin the decrees of the sovereign pontiff and through the action of\nLouis XIV. Those who professed them were obliged to sign a formula\nof submission to the church, and receive the doctrine of Rome.\nThere were many who, while they did so, still held to the erroneous\nteachings of their sect. Among these there was an Abb\u00e9 Bourseis, a\nman of some ability, but of more tact in courtly life. In 1661, on\nthe 12th of December, a bachelor of theology defended the following\nthesis:\n\n     \"We acknowledge Christ head of the church in such a manner that\n     he, on ascending to heaven, intrusted the government of it first\n     to Peter, and afterward to his successors, and gave them the same\n     infallibility he himself possessed, whenever they should speak\n     authoritatively, (_ex cathedra_.) There is, therefore, in the\n     Roman church an infallible judge of controversy regarding faith,\n     even apart from general councils, in questions both of right and\n     of fact.\"\n\nAbout the same time, the Abb\u00e9 Bourseis seized upon this opportunity\nand gained over the minister Colbert; while the son of the minister\nLetellier brought over his father. The thesis was represented as\nan attempt of the Jesuits against the government. About the same\ntime, Drouet de Villeneuve, a bachelor of the College of Navarre,\ndefended the same doctrine in substance. The advocate-general was\ninstructed to proceed in the case. The parliament having been\ninformed of what had occurred, issued a decree against the thesis,\non the 22d of January, 1663, forbidding any one to write, hold, or\nteach such propositions under penalty of being proceeded against\nby the courts; and commanded this decree to be placed on the\nregister of the said faculty of Paris. The parliament deputed two\ncounsellors of the court, and Achille de Harlay, the substitute\nof the _procureur-g\u00e9n\u00e9ral_, to have the decree registered. These\npersons repaired to the Sorbonne on the 31st January, 1663. \"Despite\nthe menaces addressed to the indocile doctors, by Talon, the\nadvocate-general, and Harlay, the faculty refused to obey; and only\nagreed to take the matter into consideration.\"[129] M. de Minc\u00e9\nand M. de Breda, favorable to the government, said the faculty\nhad not changed its sentiments and did not approve the thesis. No\nconclusion was come to; the discussion was adjourned to the 1st.\nNothing, however, was done on the first nor on the 5th of February.\nOn the 9th, the archbishops of Auch and of Paris were present. The\nfirst spoke against the decree and action of the parliament; the\nsecond said no opposition should be made to the decree, but that the\nfaculty would be able to arrange things in a satisfactory manner if\nthey discussed the matter amicably with the first president of the\nparliament. The Archbishop of Auch said that general councils were\nnecessary only against schism; the rest, against heresy as well as\nschism, but for nothing else. No conclusion was reached. On the 15th\nof February, M. de Breda reported, and read the answer of the first\npresident, and, hearing a great uproar, said he was astonished to\nsee those present so excited against the parliament. M. Grandin,\nsyndic of the faculty, to justify himself for having signed the\nthesis, spoke for a long time, and tried to give a good meaning to\nthe thesis, and explained the third proposition, touching the need\nof general councils, in the same way as the Archbishop of Auch. M.\nde Minc\u00e9 wished the decree registered. M. Morel thought it ought not\nto be registered before the thesis had been censured. He quoted some\ntext of St. Gregory Nazianzen, adding that, if it were registered,\nthe faculty would be like the statue of Memnon. He was followed in\nhis opinion by M. Amiot. The Rev. P. Nicolai, MM. Bail, Joisel,\nChamillard, and all the doctors of St. Sulpice, and of the house of\nChardonnet, were of the same opinion, and declaimed strongly against\nthe harangue of the substitute, Achille de Harlay. M. Lestocq,\nprofessor of the Sorbonne, wished to prove the decree null both\nin matter and form. M. Chamillard the younger said the Council of\nConstance was not received, and that its doctrine was only probable;\nbut the greater part of the doctors having risen against him, he was\nobliged to say it had been received in part. M. Bossuet[130] here\nmade a feint of bringing forward a new project; upon which Leblond,\nprofessor of the Sorbonne, Bonst, also professor, Joisel and Blanger,\nof the Sorbonne, following the advice of the P\u00e8re Nicolai, left\ntheir places in an indignant manner, saying that the harangue of the\nsubstitute ought to be censured. All the professors of the Sorbonne,\nwithout exception, the fathers Louvet and Hermant, Bernardines and\nprofessors in their house, spoke bitterly against the parliament; and\nwhen the P\u00e8re Hermant undertook to prove the infallibility of the\npope and his superiority over a council, he was followed by nearly\nall the monks.\n\nOn the 15th, MM. Pignay, Bail, Nicolai, Chaillon, dean of Beauvais,\nJoisel, and all the professors of the Sorbonne without exception, as\nalso MM. Magnay and Charton, opposed the registering.\n\nThe chief instructor of the bachelor Villeneuve, the Abb\u00e9 de Tilloy,\nwho had signed the thesis, and M. Joisel wished the decree registered\nwith the explanations of M. Grandin. M. Leblond, professor of the\nSorbonne, and M. Lestocq concluded that it was agreed on that the\nregistering should be accepted with these explanations. M. Guyard,\nof Navarre, said that to do so was to accuse the good faith of those\nwho had drawn up the conclusion, which had passed by advice of MM. de\nMinc\u00e9 and de Breda. The Rev. Fathers de la Barmondi\u00e8re and Leblanc,\nof St. Sulpice, accused the faculty of mortal sin, and the latter\nsaid it was through cowardice and fear of the temporal power that the\ndecree was registered. M. Cornet, the head professor of Navarre, was\nnot present at these assemblies.\n\nAt the end of this memoir are the list of doctors who took part in\nthe discussions, and confidential notes regarding each of the members\nof the faculty.\n\n     \"List of doctors who have acted badly, or are suspected, on the\n     subject of the decree of the parliament, (that is, opposed the\n     king.)\n\n       MM. Cornet,\n       Grandin, professor,\n       De Lestocq,   \"\n       Chamillard,   \"\n       Leblond,      \"\n       Bonst,        \"\n       Desp\u00e9rier,    \"\n       Joisel,\n       Chamillard, brother of the professor,\n       Pignay,\n       Morel,\n       Charton,\n       Gobinet,\n       Amiot,\n       Rouill\u00e9,\n       Alleaume de Tilloy,\n       Demure,\n       Magnet,\n       Quatrehommes,\n       Bossuet,\n       De la Barmondi\u00e8re,\n       Leblanc,\n       Dez de Fontaine,\n       Bail,\n       Du Fournel,\n       De Pinteville.\n\n     \"Doctors who have acted well on this same occasion, and who\n     particularly distinguished themselves, (that is, favored the king.)\n\n       MM. De Minc\u00e9, cur\u00e9 de Gonesse--very well.\n       De Breda, cur\u00e9 de St. Andr\u00e9--admirably.\n       Duzon,\n       Vaillant,\n       Faure,\n       Fortin,\n       Cocquelin,\n       Caspin.\"\n\n\n     \"SKETCH OF THE DOCTORS WHO HAVE ACTED BADLY OR ARE SUSPECTED.\n\n     \"Before making remarks on these gentlemen, I protest sincerely\n     that I consider them all good men, full of true ecclesiastical\n     zeal, but, to my mind, in this affair not bearing themselves\n     according to knowledge.\n\n     \"M. Cornet,[131] a fine mind, a very able man, of irreproachable\n     life, with so great a reputation among those of his party that he\n     is their head beyond dispute, and the soul of their deliberations.\n     Those most attached to him are MM. Grandin, Chamillard, and\n     Morel--the first two with more reserve and management, the last\n     more openly and frankly.\n\n     \"Nothing can be expected from the Carmelites, Augustinians, and\n     Franciscans.\"\n\n\n     \"COMMUNITIES TO BE FEARED ON THIS OCCASION.\n\n     \"That of the Jesuits under the P\u00e8re Bazot.\n\n     \"That of St. Sulpice, where, to tell the truth, ecclesiastics are\n     educated in a spirit of perfect regularity; but we are assured\n     that every one there is extremely in favor of the papal authority.\n\n     \"That of St. Nicolas du Chardonnet.\n\n     \"That known as the Trente-Trois, at the H\u00f4tel d'Albiac, near the\n     College of Navarre, under M. Charton.\n\n     \"That of M. Gilot.\n\n     \"There are several _d\u00e9vots_ who aid these in a work which good\n     Frenchmen and true subjects of the king strive to prevent. The\n     principal are MM. Dalbon, De la Motte, F\u00e9n\u00e9lon, and M. d'Ab\u00e9ly\n     named for the bishopric of Rodez.\"\n\nThe decree, says M. G\u00e9rin, was registered on the 4th of April;\nbut on the same day a thesis similar to the one it condemned was\nmaintained, with the approbation of the syndic of the faculty, in\nthe college of the Bernardines, by the Fr\u00e8re Laurent Desplantes. On\nthe 14th of April, in consequence of this being denounced by royal\nagents, the parliament cited before it M. Grandin, the syndic, the\nprofessor presiding at the thesis, the disputant, and the superiors\nof the Bernardines. Talon, the advocate-general, spoke with great\nwarmth. \"Strange,\" he said in his prosecution,--\"strange, that, with\nunexampled rashness, they have dared to renew these evil propositions\non the very day the decree was registered in the faculty.\" Grandin\nheld out against the storm, and the parliament suspended him from\nhis duties. This rigor frightened the timid, and some days afterward\nthe court received a number of equivocal propositions, subscribed by\nsixty-six doctors only. The whole number was over seven hundred. M.\nDeslions, of the Sorbonne, in his MS. journal,[132] lets us into the\nsecret of the way in which these six propositions were gotten up.\nThey are as follows:\n\n     \"1. It is not the doctrine of the faculty that the sovereign\n     pontiff has any authority over the temporal rights of the most\n     Christian king; on the contrary, the faculty always opposed those\n     who favored that authority, even understood as indirect only.\n\n     \"2. It is the doctrine of the faculty that the most Christian king\n     acknowledges and has no superior at all in temporal matters except\n     God; and this is its ancient doctrine, from which it will never\n     recede.\n\n     \"3. It is the doctrine of the faculty that subjects owe fidelity\n     and obedience to the most Christian king in such a way that they\n     can be dispensed from them under no pretext.\n\n     \"4. It is the doctrine of the faculty that they neither approve\n     nor have approved any proposition, contrary to the authority of\n     the most Christian king, or to the genuine (_germanis_) liberties\n     of the Gallican Church and canons received in the realm, v. g.,\n     that the sovereign pontiff can depose bishops in despite of these\n     canons.\n\n     \"5. It is not the doctrine of the faculty that the sovereign\n     pontiff is above an oecumenical council.\n\n     \"6. It is not the doctrine of the faculty that the sovereign\n     pontiff is infallible if no consent of the church support him,\n     (_nullo accedente ecclesi\u00e6 consensu_.)\"\n\nWith regard to these propositions, M. Deslions writes:\n\n     \"M. Bouthillier, doctor of the Sorbonne, and later member of the\n     assembly of 1682, and Bishop of Troyes, told me that, in the\n     conference held among the doctors deputed to draw up the six\n     articles presented to the king on the part of the Sorbonne, in the\n     first article, which concerns the deposition of kings, the phrase\n     'on no pretext,' (_nullo pr\u00e6textu_,) was purposely inserted; and\n     that thereupon some one present objected the case of heresy. M.\n     Morel then said that this would be a _reason_, and not a simple\n     _pretext_, for deposing a king. He told me, also, that he had\n     seen in the MS. of M. Grandin, at the sixth article, that the\n     pope is not infallible _if some kind of consent_ of the church\n     do not support him. They resolved to put instead of this, _if no\n     consent_ support him; which is the same thing, and in some way\n     less even. So true is it that these articles were drawn up in the\n     most equivocal language the framers could suitably employ. M.\n     Bouthillier learned this of M. Gobinet, one of the deputies.\"\n\nIn confirmation of this, M. G\u00e9rin quotes a comment on these articles\nmade by Pinsson, advocate of the parliament, by order of Colbert. He\nqualifies all the propositions as equivocal or captious. He says:\n\n     \"1. This first proposition is captious; it should have been\n     general, affirmative, specific, etc.\n\n     \"2. The king did not need the avowal of the faculty to prove that\n     he knows no superior in temporal matters, this avowal being much\n     more advantageous to the popes themselves, who have recognized\n     it, as does Pope Innocent III., cap. _Per venerabilem_, in the\n     decretals.\n\n     \"3. This repetition too often made of the words 'most Christian\n     king' was unnecessary for Frenchmen, and it would have been less\n     suspicious and more advantageous if, in speaking of the king, they\n     had given to him no title, etc.\n\n     \"4. This fourth is equivocal and suspicious, etc.\n\n     \"5. The affectation of framing the fifth article in negative\n     expressions cannot but be suspicious, etc.\n\n     \"6. The last article should not have been conceived in negative\n     terms, but in affirmative; to wit, that the pope of himself is\n     not infallible without the consent of the universal church. And\n     the phrase, 'If no consent of the church support him,' is too\n     equivocal in this place,\" etc.\n\nThe offer, in the name of the faculty, of these propositions put\na stop to the difficulty for the time, and the settlement of the\nquestion of redress so unjustifiably and tyrannically urged by Louis\nXIV. against the holy see brought with it an external appearance\nof peace, while it left a rankling wound that was to break out\nafresh in the contests concerning the _regale_, or so-styled \"royal\nperquisite,\" seventeen years later.\n\n\"This question of the _regale_,\" says M. G\u00e9rin, \"was of a date much\nanterior to the time of Louis XIV.\" It consisted in the vindication\nby the crown of a presumed title to the revenues of certain dioceses,\nand to the nomination of persons to hold benefices in the same, upon\nthe death or removal of the bishop, and until the newly nominated\nbishop had taken the oath of fealty, and had registered it in the\nchancellor's chamber, this act being styled the closure of the royal\nright, or _regale_. The Council of Lyons had authorized this custom\nwith regard to bishoprics in which it had been established as a\ncondition in their foundation, or had existed as an ancient practice;\nwhile it expressly forbade its introduction with respect to those\ndioceses in which it had not been received.\n\n     \"The parliaments undertook, however, to make the custom one of\n     universal application, compelling the dioceses claiming exemption\n     to prove their title to be free from it.\n\n     \"Henry IV. by an edict of 1606, art. 27, declared, 'We do not\n     intend to enjoy the right of royal perquisite (_regale_) save in\n     the manner in which we and our predecessors have done, without\n     extending it further to the prejudice of churches exempt from\n     it.' This edict was registered in the parliament of Paris without\n     modification; but on the 24th of August, 1608, the same parliament\n     pronounced a decree conceived in these terms: 'The court declares\n     the king to have a right to the royal perquisite from the church\n     of Belley, as from every other in his kingdom;' and forbidding\n     advocates to put forward any proposition to the contrary. The\n     clergy complained to the king, who by letters of 1609 yielded the\n     execution of the decree. Louis XIII. seemed favorable to the\n     rights of the church; but after the accession of Louis XIV. these\n     rights were menaced more than ever, and 'there was no assembly\n     of the clergy,' particularly after the year 1638, in which a\n     special commission was not named to attend to the subject of royal\n     perquisite.\"[133]\n\nThat of 1670 presented a remonstrance to the king through the\nArchbishop of Embrun; but in 1673 and 1675, two royal declarations\nappeared to the effect that all the churches of the kingdom were\nsubject to the right of royal perquisite; and that the archbishops\nand bishops who had not yet closed it by registering their oath\nshould go through that formality within six months.\n\nCaulet, Bishop of Pamiers, and Pavillon, Bishop of Alet, standing\non their rights as secured by the custom of exemption, and by the\ncanons of the general Council of Lyons, refused to obey. The result\nwas a contest between the civil and ecclesiastical powers, in which\nRome of necessity became engaged. Unheard-of harshness, and cruelty\neven, were used against the clergymen who opposed the government.\nOne vicar-general was condemned to death. Unhappily, there were\nmany ecclesiastics, who had been provided with benefices by the\ngovernment, who not only took sides with it, but, being interested,\nwere active in keeping up a quarrel the solution of which, in\naccordance with the views of Rome, would have proved ruinous to\nthem. They sold Christ for a few pieces of money. The deputies of\nthe clergy in 1680, in their regular quinquennial assembly, at\nthe request of Louis XIV., wrote a flattering letter in favor of\nhis claims and against the pope. This caused Madame de S\u00e9vign\u00e9\nto criticise them caustically. When speaking of the two prelates\nmentioned above, she says, after referring to the then Bishop of\nAlet, who had succeeded Pavillon, \"But the shade of his saintly\npredecessor, and M. de Pamiers--have they signed that letter of\nflattery?\"\n\nBut what were the means used to bring about the assembly of 1682, in\nwhich the four articles of which so much has been said were framed?\nThat which we have recounted up to this was only the preparation of\nthe soil; the seed was now to be sown, and fostered with all the\ncare of royal interest. M. G\u00e9rin quotes from the _Proc\u00e8s Verbaux du\nCl\u00e9rg\u00e9_, t. v.\n\n     \"The general agents or procurators of the clergy\" (these agents\n     resided permanently in Paris to protect the interests of the\n     church in case of collision with the state, or in matters partly\n     ecclesiastical and partly secular) \"were counselled to present\n     a memorial to the king, and to pray his majesty to allow them\n     to call together the prelates who were in Paris, on business\n     connected with their churches, in order that through their\n     singular prudence they might find means to restore peace and put\n     every thing in order. The king having permitted this assembly,\n     it was held during the months of March and of May, 1681, in the\n     archiepiscopal palace of Paris.\"\n\nIt is humiliating to a Catholic to have to make the avowal, but it\nis well known that royal patronage had well-nigh ruined the French\nChurch, and that not a few bishops unworthy of the name occupied\nhigh and influential places. This assembly, known as \"the Little\nAssembly,\" (_La Petite Assembl\u00e9e_,) met the day after the order\nwas given. Fifty bishops, of whom the great majority ought to have\nbeen at their posts of duty, were basking in the sunshine of royal\nfavor, and it was these Louis XIV. called on for advice. Racine has a\nsarcastic epigram on them, which M. G\u00e9rin quotes:\n\n    \"Un ordre, hier venu de S. Germain,\n    Veut qu'on s'assemble; on s'assemble demain;\n    Notre arch\u00e9v\u00eaque et cinquante-deux autres,\n        Successeurs des ap\u00f4tres,\n    S'y trouveront. Or, de savoir quel cas\n    S'y traitera, c'est encore un myst\u00e8re.\n        C'est seulement chose tr\u00e8s claire\n    Que nous avions cinquante-deux pr\u00e9lats\n        Qui ne residaient pas.\"\n\nThe advice these prelates gave was what might have been expected from\nthe state of things at the time.\n\nThey indorsed the action of the government on four points of\ndiscussion with the holy see:\n\n1. The royal perquisite, which Fleury and Bossuet could not approve.\n\n2. The book of the Abb\u00e9 Gerbais, censured by Rome as schismatical,\nsuspected of heresy, and injurious to the holy see; but which they\nfound full of good doctrine and of deep learning.\n\n3. In the affair of Charonne. This was a case of exemption from royal\nnomination in which the king had violated that right. The religious\nwomen of the convent of Charonne, near Paris, which belonged to the\nAugustinian rule, enjoyed the privilege, recognized by the civil\npower, of electing every three years their superior. Louis XIV.,\nhowever, in 1676, named for their superior a Cistercian nun, whom\nthe Archbishop of Paris, Harlay de Champvallon, acknowledged, and to\nwhom he gave the position. The religious appealed to the sovereign\npontiff, who, by a brief dated August 7th, 1680, annulled the act\nof the archbishop, and ordered them to proceed to the triennial\nelection, and take for their superior one of their own number.\n\n4. In the affair of the diocese of Pamiers, of which we have spoken\nabove.\n\n     \"On the 2d of May the assembly resolved to ask the king to call\n     a national council, or general assembly of the clergy, composed\n     of two deputies of the first order and two of the second from\n     each province, the latter to have a consulting voice only. The\n     other details were to be arranged according to the advice of the\n     commissaries.\"[134]\n\nThe action of this assembly was much criticised and was disapproved\nby the people, as can be seen, according to M. G\u00e9rin's statement, in\nthe MSS. of St. Sulpice, i. ii. iii.; Bibl. Mazarine, MSS. 2392, 2398\nfr. From these he makes several long and interesting extracts.\n\nIn consequence of this resolution of the Little Assembly, \"the king,\non the 16th of July, 1681, addressed letters of convocation to the\nagents of the clergy, through whom the archbishops of the territory\nsubject to his majesty were charged to hold provincial assemblies and\ncause to be chosen two deputies of the first order and two of the\nsecond, for the general assembly assigned for the 1st of October,\n1681.\"\n\nBefore entering upon a history of this body, M. G\u00e9rin gives a clear\nidea of the question at issue between the king and the pontiff,\nand shows that it was of the same nature as that which caused the\nstruggle, in which the church was finally victorious, between\nGregory VII. and the German emperor, Henry IV. The appointment of\nproper pastors for the flock was at stake. Rome sought likewise to\nput a stop to the abuse by which laymen were pensioned on dioceses,\nwhose funds ought to have been devoted to supplying the spiritual\nwants of the people, and relieving the poor and orphans. The church\nwas in imminent danger of servitude, spiritual and temporal, as\nFleury himself states. So far had the usurpation of ecclesiastical\njurisdiction gone that, when Louis XIV., at Strasburg, gave audience\nto the bishop of that place, the act of the king in putting his hand\non the crozier of the prelate as he leant forward to hear him was\ninterpreted as a resumption of investiture by the ring and crozier.\nPelisson, however, the intimate friend of the king, tells us this was\nnot the case, as he heard him say afterward that such an idea had\nnot occurred to him; but as the prelate spoke in a rather low tone,\nhe bent toward him and leaned for support on the crozier.\n\nThe government of Louis had wished this assembly for its own ends; it\nwas therefore determined that nothing should be left undone to secure\na favorable result. The temper of all the members of the French\nhierarchy was known: there were some who were feared--these were to\nbe passed by; some who were doubted--these were to be allured to\ncompliance; others there were whose worldly spirit and indebtedness\nto the crown left no uncertainty as to their course--these were\nto be put forward, honored, and made the leaders in the movement\nagainst Rome. Colbert, ably seconded by the worldly Harlay de\nChampvallon, Archbishop of Paris, set about the work. His master was\nall-powerful; every thing but true virtue was to bend before him.\nCanonical forms were to be superseded if found to be trammels, and\npersons who contradicted were to be made to feel the weight of royal\ndispleasure. The legislative bodies even had been reduced to a state\nof passive instrumentality, so that, in 1672, a conscientious bishop\nof Languedoc complained to Colbert that votes were given without\ndiscussion, and protested that explanations should be made in regard\nto the advantages or the necessity of the expenses the states were\ncalled on to vote. In this state of things, the Little Assembly had\nbeen convened and had acted the part we have seen. Before closing\nits sessions it named a commission under the presidency of Harlay,\nwithout whose bidding it was to do nothing. This commission drew up\nthe project of procuration, and, by order of the king, no mention\nwas made of the part he had had in it. On the 16th of June, 1681,\nColbert writes to the archbishop:\n\n     \"SIR: You will find accompanying this a copy of the letter of\n     the king, as approved by his majesty, for the convocation of the\n     general assembly of the clergy, in which you will remark that\n     no mention is made of the plan of procuration, placed by you in\n     my hands. His majesty has thought that nothing should appear as\n     coming from him that might determine the matters to be acted on in\n     the said assemblage; but he has resolved to give orders on this\n     subject _by word of mouth_ to the general agents of the clergy,\n     and to direct that this project or plan of procuration be sent to\n     the archbishops, with the explanation that it has been drawn up\n     by commissioners named at the late assembly, for the purpose of\n     being sent to all parts; to make known what ought to be treated\n     of in the said assembly, and to bring about uniformity of powers;\n     and in order to cause the provincial assemblies to give powers of\n     procuration to the deputies of the general assembly, conformably\n     to the project, his majesty will direct that the intendants\n     of provinces be written to, to command them to impart to the\n     archbishops his intentions on the subject of the procuration.\"\n\nM. G\u00e9rin gives us here the text of this plan of procuration; it is\nfrom a MS. annotated by the _procureur-g\u00e9n\u00e9ral_ De Harlay, brother of\nthe archbishop. The deputies are\n\n     \"To repair to the said city of Paris, according to the letters\n     of the king and of the said agents, and there deliberate, in the\n     manner contained in the resolution of the said assemblies of March\n     and May, (the Little Assembly,) on the means of reconciling the\n     variances respecting the royal right of perquisite (_regale_)\n     between the pope, on the one side, and the king, on the other; to\n     determine on all the acts which they shall deem necessary to put\n     an end to these variances, with the deputies of other provinces,\n     the same to sign the clauses and conditions that the assembly\n     shall judge fitting; they are likewise charged and expressly\n     commanded to employ all proper means to repair the infractions\n     committed by the court of Rome in the decrees of the concordat _de\n     causis et de frivolis appellationibus_ in the affairs of Charonne,\n     of Pamiers, of Toulouse, and others which may have or shall have\n     transpired; to preserve the jurisdiction of the ordinaries of\n     the realm, and the various degrees of it in the form sanctioned\n     by the concordat; to cause the pope, in case of appeal to Rome,\n     to depute commissaries in France to judge it; to procure, by all\n     sorts of due and proper means, the preservation of the maxims\n     and liberties of the Gallican Church; to pass the resolutions\n     by a plurality of votes, and, for the reasons explained above,\n     to frame all acts that shall be required, even though there be\n     any thing demanding a more special commission than is contained\n     in these presents, promise being given that all that shall have\n     been granted and signed by them shall be agreed to and observed\n     inviolably in every particular, according to its form and tenor.\"\n\nThe government foresaw that the second order of the clergy, the\nsimple priests, would make an attempt to vindicate their right to a\nvoice. For this reason it determined to have a precedent by which\nto act. The Archbishop of Rheims, who was in the interest of the\ngovernment, convoked his provincial assembly at Senlis; the second\norder protested; its voice was stifled, and the plan of procuration\naccepted. An account of the proceedings was made out and sent to the\nking, by whose command copies were immediately transmitted to the\nintendants of the kingdom with orders to instruct the archbishops\nto do the same in like cases.[135] As for the choice of deputies,\nthat was to be made without any appearance or direct proof of royal\nintervention. But the names of the deputies show the pressure that\nmust have been brought to bear by the court. M. G\u00e9rin quotes here a\nnumber of documents in which the royal interference is manifest. Thus\nColbert writes to the Archbishop of Rouen:\n\n                   \"FONTAINEBLEAU, Sept. 21, 1681.\n\n     \"The king, being persuaded that the Bishop of Lisieux can be of\n     more use in the next assembly than any other of your suffragans,\n     his majesty has ordered me to write you that you will please have\n     him chosen,\" etc.\n\nFrom page 115 to 153 M. G\u00e9rin demonstrates this pressure\nunanswerably; and from page 153 to page 261, he shows from the\ncharacter of the persons chosen, the nature of the assembly, and its\nobsequiousness to the sovereign. On page 260 he asks,\n\n     \"Why were not seen there Mascaron, Fl\u00e9chier, Bourdaloue, F\u00e9n\u00e9lon,\n     Huet, Mabillon, Thomassin, Ranc\u00e9, Tronson, Brisacier, Tiberge, La\n     Salle, La Ch\u00e9tardie, and so many others, still more glorious in\n     the sight of God than in that of men?... Cease then from saying\n     that the assembly of 1682 was the _\u00e9lite_ of the clergy of the\n     day!\"\n\nOne of the most interesting features connected with the history of\nthe assembly is the new phase put upon the part acted in it by the\nfamous Bishop of Meaux--Bossuet. His position here contradicts what\nwe have seen him do in the year 1663. But from all the documents M.\nG\u00e9rin brings forward, it is evident that he was drawn in against his\nwill. In one place he writes:\n\n     \"The assembly is about to be held; and they desire not only that\n     I should be present, but that I should preach the introductory\n     sermon.\" (Letter to the Abb\u00e9 de Ranc\u00e9.)\n\nFleury in his notes says,\n\n     \"It was the will of the king that the Bishop of Meaux should be\n     present.\"\n\nIt is true that the articles were drawn up by him; but it was because\nhe saw that extreme opinions were about to prevail, to prevent which\nhe took the propositions into his hands, and did the best he could\nunder the circumstances. This, however, does not excuse him entirely;\nfor there are times in which we should be ready to suffer for the\ncause of truth, and if necessary even to give our lives. The fault of\nBossuet was, that he was weak, and could not resolve to forfeit royal\nfavor for the glory of suffering in a just cause. After a careful\nand thorough perusal of the chapter on Bossuet and the assembly,\nit is impossible to come to any milder conclusion than this. The\narticles were drawn up and passed by the assembly. It is not our\npurpose to go into an examination of these articles. It will suffice\nto state that their aim was to limit that fulness of power belonging\nto the sovereign pontiff which we have seen implied in the definition\nof the Council of Florence, without seeming to do or say any thing\nthat could be noted as heretical or schismatical; and in the third\narticle there is an indorsement of the decrees of the fourth and\nfifth Council of Constance, which it is well known were never\napproved by the sovereign pontiff, and have therefore no authority.\nThese decrees proclaim the superiority of a general council of\nbishops over the pope, and strike a direct blow at his infallibility\nand supremacy. They were the very decrees that caused the decision of\nthe Council of Florence, though the occasion of the definition was\nthe union of the Greek and Latin churches. How were these articles\nreceived? On the 19th of March they were adopted by the assembly. On\nthe 11th of April, Innocent XI. censured them in his brief. Louis\nXIV. was so much impressed by this act of the pope that he prevented\nthe bishops of the assembly from sending a circular to the prelates\nof the kingdom, by way of protest. On the 9th of May, he suspended\nthe sessions of the assembly; and on the 29th of June, he sent orders\nfor its immediate dissolution, without allowing it to go through with\nthe rest of its programme. Count de Maistre says of him, \"He broke up\nthe assembly unceremoniously, with so much wisdom and fitness, that\none almost pardons him for having called it together.\"[136] He did\nnot even allow the minutes of the sessions to be put in the archives\nof the clergy.[137] M. G\u00e9rin tells us that the people were opposed\nto this assembly from the outset; and when the members were about to\ndepart, the following epigram sped them on their way,\n\n    \"Pr\u00e9lats, abb\u00e9s, s\u00e9parez-vous;\n    Laissez un peu Rome et l'Eglise!\n    Un chacun se moque de vous,\n    Et toute la cour vous m\u00e9prise.\n    Ma foi! l'on vous ferait, avant qu'il f\u00fbt un an,\n    Signer \u00e0 l'Alcoran.\"\n\nThe ministers of the king were very much irritated; they dared not\nthen, as they did in 1688, appeal to a general council, because\nthis would bring upon them the censures of the bull _Execrabilis_\nof Pius II. It was determined, therefore, by the king to permit the\n_procureur-g\u00e9n\u00e9ral_ to make a protest privately, in the hands of the\n_greffier_ or keeper of the archives of the parliament, without the\nknowledge even of the first president. In the mean while the clergy,\nfar from acquiescing in the decrees of a body which had falsely\nassumed to represent them, were giving evidence in a marked manner of\ntheir disapprobation. Like all those who try to compromise between\nright and wrong, between the service of God and the good-will of the\nworld, the framers of the four articles had become unacceptable to\nboth.\n\n    \"A Dio Spiacenti ed ai nemici sui.\"\n\nThe parliament protested because the prelates had not gone far\nenough; the _procureur-g\u00e9n\u00e9ral_, De Harlay, put in a formal\ndeclaration on this subject, and it was registered by permission of\nthe king. But these men were not the clergy, not the people. M. G\u00e9rin\ngives us witnesses who testify to what these thought and said. The\nfirst is one above suspicion, a man favorable to the court, the Abb\u00e9\nLe Gendre; he says,\n\n     \"At first the declaration of the clergy was by no means applauded.\n     Far from doing so, many attributed it to cowardice, saying that\n     it was the effect of the servile obedience of the bishops to the\n     will of the court. Others thought it was neither prudent nor\n     honorable to rise with levity against the pretensions of the pope,\n     at a moment when he was risking every thing to sustain theirs.\n     This movement of opposition, which was almost general, gave birth\n     to spicy writing, in which Mgr. De Harlay was the most ill-used,\n     as he was regarded as the first inciter, and almost as the only\n     author of all that was done in the assembly.\"\n\nThe edict of the 30th of March ordered that the four articles\nshould be registered in all the universities, and be taught by all\nthe professors. If this doctrine, remarks M. G\u00e9rin, had been but\ngenerally received, it would have been hailed with rejoicing. What\nhappened? It was opposed by the most numerous, the most learned,\nand the most pious portion of the clergy. The faculty of Paris was\ncomposed of seven hundred and fifty-three members, as appears from\nthe MSS. Colbert, M\u00e9l. t. vii. Of these, one hundred and sixty-nine\nbelonged to the Sorbonne. The \"_Plan for Reforming the Faculty_,\" in\n1683, (Pap. Harlay,) says,\n\n     \"The house of Sorbonne, with the exception of six or seven, have\n     been educated in sentiments contrary to the declaration. The\n     professors, the syndic excepted, are so opposed to it that those\n     even who are paid by the king have not been willing to teach any\n     of the propositions presented to his majesty in 1663, etc.... The\n     principal of the College of Plessis, and those whom he employs and\n     protects, in his college and out of it, are absolutely one with\n     those of Sorbonne.\"\n\nAs to the College of Navarre, the MSS. Colbert, t. 155, tell us that\nits principal, Professor Guyard, was entirely devoted to Rome, etc.,\nand others prominent, Saussay, Ligny, Vinot, were of like opinion.\nIn 1682, none of the professors except Doctor Lef\u00e8vre taught the\nmaxims of the kingdom.[138]\n\nOf St. Sulpice, St. Nicolas de Chardonnet, and the Missions\nEtrang\u00e8res, we read,\n\n     \"Those of St. Sulpice, of St. Nicolas de Chardonnet, and of the\n     Missions Etrang\u00e8res, who have given their opinion in this affair,\n     (of the four articles,) hold the same views as those of Sorbonne.\"\n\nOf the religious orders and communities, it was written in 1663,\n\n     \"Nothing can be hoped for of the Carmelites, Augustinians, and\n     Franciscans, who make profession of favoring his holiness in every\n     thing,\" etc.\n\nThe parliament, therefore, and the grand council had, by an abuse of\npower, decided that _each one_ of the mendicant orders should have\nbut _two votes_ in the faculty, so that thirty-four Franciscans,\nthirty-eight Dominicans, thirty-three Augustinians, and nineteen\nCarmelites had only eight votes in the faculty.\n\n     \"Forty-three Cistercians and six canons regular, who are all for\n     Rome, are to be treated as the above friars.\"\n\nThat, besides being the most numerous, the opponents of the articles\nwere the most learned, is evident from the details we have given;\nall the professors of Sorbonne, with the exception of Pirot, all the\nprofessors of Navarre, except one, Lef\u00e8vre, taught the ultramontane\nopinions. The MSS. Colbert prove this also beyond the possibility of\ndoubt.\n\nThat the opponents of the declaration were also men most remarkable\nfor their piety, is acknowledged by those who were engaged in giving\ninformation to Colbert.\n\nTo show the exactness of the facts given us here, M. G\u00e9rin quotes the\nwords of a famous anonymous book, _La Tradition des Faits_, that\nappeared in 1760, by the Gallican Abb\u00e9 Chauvelin, clerical counsellor\nto the parliament of Paris. The abb\u00e9 writes,\n\n     \"When it was resolved to oblige the ecclesiastics to profess\n     the maxims of France, what difficulties stood in the way? It\n     was necessary to extort from many of them their consent. Others\n     opposed obstacles which all the authority of the parliament could\n     only with difficulty remove. It became necessary to use all the\n     zeal and light of several prelates, and of several doctors, who\n     were favorable to the true teaching, to bring back the great\n     number of ultramontanes in the French clergy.... The ecclesiastics\n     did not cease from resistance until the parliament used its\n     authority to restrain them.... The university and the faculty\n     of law submitted without difficulty, _but they were obliged to\n     proceed by way of authority to make the faculty of theology obey_.\"\n\nThe facts given above, the testimony of witnesses above suspicion,\nof those whose interest it would have been to conceal what they\nsay, the action of the parliament, and the petty ways adopted to\ncoerce the professors, v. g., withholding their pay,[139] all evince\nthat the maxims known as Gallican were forced upon the clergy and\npeople of France. But not only is this the case, but so fully were\nthe king and the bishops themselves convinced of their falsity that\nthey retracted them. Before showing this, we will add a curious and\nprecious document from the hands of the wily Achille de Harlay,\n_procureur-g\u00e9n\u00e9ral_, addressed to Colbert on the 2d of June, 1682.\nAfter saying that the proposed visit of the parliament to the faculty\nwould have been unfortunate, because it would have revealed to Rome\nthe divergence between the latter and the government, he goes on\nto add that \"of the assembly of the clergy, the greater part would\nchange to-morrow, and willingly, if they were allowed to do so.\"[140]\n\nThe act of the assembly, as we have seen, drew from the sovereign\npontiff an authoritative censure. This was not all; the pope refused\nthe bulls of consecration for those who had taken part in it, unless\nthey made their formal submission to his decision. The king, who at\nheart was a sincere Catholic, opened his eyes to the danger of the\nchurch. As we have said, he withheld the minutes of the proceedings\nin the first instance, although he allowed a private protest to be\nmade. Later he revoked his decree ordering the doctrine of the four\narticles to be taught in the French schools. Page 454 has a letter of\nLouis to the sovereign pontiff, in which he informs his holiness of\nthis, September 14th, 1693. A posthumous work of Daguesseau[141] says,\n\n     \"This letter of Louis XIV. to Pope Innocent was the seal put\n     upon the accommodation between the court of Rome and the clergy\n     of France; and conformably to the engagement it contained, his\n     majesty did not any longer enforce the observation of the edict\n     of March, 1682, which obliged all who wished to obtain degrees to\n     sustain the declaration of the clergy made that year with regard\n     to ecclesiastical authority; ceasing thus to impose, on this\n     point, the obligation existing, while the edict was in force,\n     and leaving for the future, as before the edict, full liberty to\n     sustain the doctrine.\"\n\nL'Abb\u00e9 de Pradt, in his work, _Les Quatre Concordats_, speaks of the\nletter of Louis XIV., and says that Pius VII. had it with him--\"an\nold scrap of paper,\" as Napoleon expressed it--and wished the emperor\nto sign it. This, however, Napoleon declined to do, until he could\nconsult his theologians. On their advice he refused to sign it. He\ndid more. The abb\u00e9 says,\n\n     \"When the archives of Rome were brought to Paris, Napoleon went\n     one day to the H\u00f4tel de Soubise, in which they were kept. There\n     he obtained the letter of Louis XIV. He took it with him, and,\n     on his return to the Tuileries, threw it into the fire, saying,\n     'We'll not be troubled hereafter with these ashes.'\"\n\nMontholon tells us in his _M\u00e9moires pour servir \u00e0 l'Histoire de\nFrance_, that Napoleon dictated to him these words concerning the\nbook of the Abb\u00e9 de Pradt,\n\n     \"'This work is not a libel: if it contains some erroneous\n     ideas, it contains a great number which are sound and worthy\n     of meditation.' He afterward dictated six notes upon different\n     points contained in the work; he takes notice in them of all that\n     appeared to him deserving of censure; but he has not a single word\n     to say against the story of the destruction by himself of the\n     letter of Louis XIV.\"[142]\n\nWith regard to the bishops who had taken part in the declaration,\nthey had the good sense and virtue to submit to him whom Christ has\nnamed his vicar and the pastor of pastors. On the 14th of September,\neach one of them wrote to Innocent XII. in the following terms,\n\n     \"Prostrate at the feet of your holiness, we profess and declare\n     that we grieve deeply from our heart, and beyond what we can\n     express, on account of what has been done in the assembly, so\n     greatly offensive to your holiness and your predecessors; and\n     therefore whatever may have been deemed (_censeri potuit_) decreed\n     against ecclesiastical power and pontifical authority, we hold,\n     and declare that all should hold it, as not decreed. Moreover, we\n     hold as not determined on whatever may have been deemed (_censeri\n     potuit_) determined on in prejudice of the rights of churches;\n     for our intention was not to decree any thing nor to do any thing\n     prejudicial to the said churches.\"\n\nThe following passages from MSS. and works of the day add\nconfirmation to this letter.\n\nA memoir on the liberties of the Gallican Church, composed by order\nof \"Monseigneur Louis, Dauphin de France, Duc de Bourgoyne, mort en\n1710,\" says,\n\n     \"This court (Rome) continues always what it has begun, and often\n     obliges us to retract or alter what we have judiciously and\n     necessarily done against her. Nothing proves this better than the\n     history of the assembly of 1682.\"\n\nAdrien Baillet, writing his _D\u00e9m\u00eal\u00e9 de Philippe le Bel avec Boniface\nVIII._, tells us,\n\n     \"In the first variance, (between Philip and Boniface,) it was the\n     court of Rome that gave satisfaction to that of France; in the\n     second, (of the assembly,) it is the court of France that has just\n     rendered satisfaction to that of Rome.\"\n\nBayle, _Dictionnaire_, art. \"Braunbom,\" writes,\n\n     \"France was so far from having broken with the pope, from the year\n     1690 to the year 1701, that she became, on the contrary, more\n     papist. It is known, moreover, that Innocent XII. gained the day,\n     in having things put again on their old footing in 1693.\"\n\nWe have tried to give the substance of M. G\u00e9rin's work. We feel that\nwe have given but a meagre idea of it. Still, this much is evident\nfrom what we have written, that the doctrine known as Gallican was\nnot the doctrine of the French clergy. That it afterward became so,\nin great part was owing undoubtedly to the influence of the assembly\nof 1682, and of those who in high positions lent their aid to its\npropagation among the rising generation of students. They, early\nimbued with these maxims, were far less to blame than the men who\nfirst broached such principles. Let us hope that the comparatively\nfew who hold to these opinions, seeing the origin of what they\nprofess, will understand the worthlessness of them, and unite with\nthe universal church in professing belief in the infallibility of the\nSee of Peter.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[128] _Recherches Historiques sur l'Assembl\u00e9e du Clerg\u00e8 de France de\n1682._ Par Charles G\u00e9rin, Juge au Tribunal Civil de la Seine. Paris:\nLe Coffre. 1869.\n\n[129] There is in a secret report made to Colbert, \"Memoir regarding\nwhat passed in the faculty with respect to the thesis,\" a curious\naccount, hitherto unknown, of these debates.--MSS. _Cinq Cents,\nColbert,_ vol. 153.\n\n[130] Afterward Bishop of Meaux.\n\n[131] Bossuet's master.\n\n[132] Bib. Imp.--MS. Sorbonne, 1258.\n\n[133] _Proc\u00e8s Verbaux du Clerg\u00e9_, l. v. p. 377, sq.\n\n[134] MSS. 9517 fr. Bibl. Imp.\n\n[135] P. 128. The letter conveying the orders is given in full.\n\n[136] _De l'Eglise Gallicane_, t. ii. c. xi.\n\n[137] _Proc\u00e8s Verbaux_, t. v.\n\n[138] _Projet du R\u00e9forme_, Pap. De Harlay.\n\n[139] P. 376, from MS. letters 10,265. Bibl. Imp. fr.\n\n[140] Bibl. Imp. MSS. Harlay, 367, vol. v. p. 145.\n\n[141] Vol. xiii. p. 423.\n\n[142] Montholon, _M\u00e9moires_, vol. i. p. 113. Paris, 1823.\n\n\n\n\nPUTNAM'S DEFENCE.\n\n\nOur readers will remember, we presume, that _Putnam's Magazine_ for\nJuly last contained an article which attracted some attention, under\nthe title of \"Our Established Church,\" and to which we replied in our\nnumber for the August following; the same magazine for last month, in\nan article entitled \"The Unestablished Church,\" comes out with its\ndefence, of which we should be uncivil not to take some notice.\n\nThe July article, written in an unsuccessful vein of irony, was\ndirected against the honor both of the church and the city and State\nof New York, and was designed to show that the church, grasping\nat wealth and power, and skilfully availing herself of political\npassions and party divisions, had obtained from the State and\ncity governments endowments for herself and subventions for her\neducational and charitable institutions out of all proportion to\nany granted to similar Protestant institutions. We replied that the\nendowments are imaginary, for the church here is unendowed; that the\nsubventions are greatly exaggerated; that several alleged had never\nbeen made, while others said to have been made to Catholic were in\nfact made to Protestant institutions; and that Catholics had never\nreceived a tithe of what was requisite to place them on an equality\nin regard to subventions from the public with non-Catholics. The\n_Magazine_, though with exceeding ill grace, concedes nearly all\nthat we denied, abandons its assumption that ours is the established\nchurch, confesses that it is unestablished, and disputes us, except\nwith sneers and exclamation-points, only in regard to two statements\nin our reply, one of which is of no importance, and the other is one\nin which it is decidedly, not to say maliciously wrong.\n\nThe two points disputed we proceed to dispose of. The _Magazine_\ncharged the corporation of the city with granting leases of valuable\nsites for Catholic institutions for a long term of years at a merely\nnominal rent. We replied that only one such lease had been granted\nsince 1847, which is not technically exact, and we overlooked the\nfact that the lease for the site of the Catholic Orphan Asylum\nbetween Fifty-first and Fifty-second streets bears the date of 1857;\nbut by the _Magazine's_ own showing, though technically a new lease,\nand so recorded, it was really only a change in the tenure of the old\nlease. Catholics had held and occupied the site under a lease from\nthe city, and at the same rent as now, for years before 1847. So much\nfor the first point.\n\nThe _Magazine_ charged that the State paid out, in 1866, for\nbenefactions under religious control $129,025.14, of which\n$124,174.14 went to the religious purposes of the Catholic Church.\nNot being able to find any proof of this, and regarding the\nunsupported statement of the writer as presumptive evidence of\nfalsehood rather than of truth, we let the charge pass without any\nattempt at a specific refutation. The _Magazine_ reiterates the\nstatement, and refers to the report of the comptroller of the State.\nWe have the comptroller's report before us; we have examined and\nre\u00ebxamined it; but we do not find the statement in it or any thing to\nwarrant it; and it has been more than once pronounced on the highest\nauthority, and proved to be a forgery, as the _Magazine_ well knows\nor is inexcusable for not knowing.\n\nWe did not meet this statement for the first time in _Putnam's\nMagazine_. It had been previously made, and we supposed sufficiently\nrefuted in the journals, especially in the _Utica Herald_, whose\neditor, Mr. Roberts, had been a member of the Legislature and of the\ncommittee of ways and means in 1866. Mr. Roberts under his own name,\npronounced it a forgery. For honest and fair-minded men this was\nconclusive. But the charge was embodied in an anonymous memorial, and\nlaid on the desks of the members of the New York State Convention,\nheld in 1867 and 1868, and was again pronounced in open debate a\nforgery, without a single voice being raised in its defence. The\nHon. Mr. Cassidy, of the Albany _Atlas and Argus_, declared it false\nfrom beginning to end. The Hon. Mr. Alvord, the distinguished member\nfrom Onondaga County, did the same. The Hon. Erastus Brooks, member\nof the Convention from Richmond, and one of the editors of the New\nYork _Evening Express_, would not go quite so far, but regarded it\nas an admirable example of one of the many ways of telling a lie.\nHe exposed its disingenuous character, by showing that the $8000\nstated in it to be appropriated to St. Mary's Hospital, Rochester,\nwas expressly declared in the statute making the appropriation to be\nfor the support of soldiers under the supervision of Dr. Backus, the\nsurgeon of the post. The soldiers were supported and taken care of in\nSt. Mary's Hospital, as the only proper place, in the judgment of the\nmilitary authorities, that could be obtained. Mr. Brooks also gave,\nas another instance of the disingenuousness of the statement, its\nomission to count $25,000, appropriated to a Protestant institution\nin Elmira, we suppose for a similar purpose. Mr. Alvord not only\npronounced it false from beginning to end, but, statute in hand,\nshowed from the act of the Legislature itself, which he read, that\ninstead of appropriating for charitable purposes nearly $130,000, it\nappropriated only $80,000, to be divided among the several counties\naccording to their assessed valuation.[143] What has become of our\nfriend, the Rev. Leonard W. Bacon, who sometimes writes for _Putnam_,\nand who has such delicate scruples about Protestants using forged\ndocuments against Catholics?\n\nSo much has been said about the partiality of the Legislature to the\nCatholic Church that it may be well to look at the conditions on\nwhich it grants and distributes its aid to charitable institutions.\nThe act of 1866, so bitterly denounced, appropriates from the State\ntreasury $80,000 for orphan asylums, to be apportioned to the several\ncounties according to their assessed value, and distributed to the\nseveral asylums according to the number of inmates received and\ncared for in them respectively, without the slightest reference to\nthe fact whether they were Catholic or Protestant. Nothing could be\nfairer, and if Catholic asylums received more of the benefaction than\nthose under the charge of non-Catholics, it was simply because they\nreceived and cared for a larger number of orphans. We see no ground\nof complaint here against either the Legislature or the church. It\nis very possible that Catholics have a larger number of orphans in\nproportion to their population than have non-Catholics, and it is\nnot unlikely, also, that they are more ready to make sacrifices for\ntheir support.\n\nIn the list of benefactions of the State to Catholic institutions\nin 1866, the _Magazine_ places the item of $78,000 to the Catholic\nProtectory. This was a special grant to enable the society to\npurchase a site and erect suitable buildings for its purpose. This\nprotectory corresponds very nearly to the Protestant societies for\nthe protection and reformation of juvenile delinquents, and which the\nState is accustomed to aid by its benefactions. The appropriations\nfor its support are justified on the ground that it is of great\npublic utility and protection of the public from a class of destitute\nchildren not unlikely, if not taken care of, to grow up vicious and\ncriminal, to fill our alms-houses, our jails and penitentiaries. The\ncommunity at large, rather than the church specially, is benefited,\nand there is no good reason why grants for its support should be\nobjected to or regarded as made for special Catholic purposes.\nThe only thing that a Protestant can object to, if any charitable\ninstitution is to receive aid from the State, is, that by aiding a\nCatholic protectorate to take care of and reform destitute children\nof Catholics without the loss of their Catholic faith, it so far\nfails to aid Protestants to bring them up in Protestantism, or, what\nis perhaps worse, in no religion.\n\nAs a matter of course, _Putnam's Magazine_ dwells on the public\ngrants to certain Catholic schools in this city. We do not deny those\ngrants. We conceded and defended them in our former article, and the\n_Magazine_ has in no respect invalidated our defence; it has only\nstared and sneered at it. Give us either schools to which we can send\nour children, or divide the schools equitably between Catholics and\nProtestants, and we will solicit no special grants of the sort. As\nit is, neither the city nor the State gives back by way of subvention\nto our schools more than a pittance of what it takes from us for the\nsupport of schools to which we cannot with our Catholic conscience\nsend our children. If the State taxes the whole community alike for\nthe support of public schools, it is bound to provide schools for\nCatholics as well as Protestants, and for both such as leave the\nconscience of each free, sacred, and inviolable. If it refuses to do\nso, the least that it can do is to make liberal grants to the schools\nCatholics are obliged to establish for themselves.\n\nWhat we have thus far said disposes of the _Magazine's_ statistics,\nand sufficiently relieves the State from the charge of discriminating\nin favor of Catholics, as well as the church from the charge of\nintriguing for special favors. She has never asked or received\nany special favors from the Legislature. The other matters in the\narticle merit no special reply. The writer attempts to be witty,\nbut succeeds only in being abusive. Wit does not appear to be his\nstrong point, and his attempts at it only provoke a smile at his\nexpense. His strong point is hatred of the church. He hates her with\na hatred equal to that of the wicked Jews for our Lord whom they\ncrucified between two thieves. Her very presence annoys him; her\nindependence enrages him; and nothing appears able to appease him but\nher subjection to the state, and the subjection of the state to the\nintolerant Protestantism of which he is a mouth-piece.\n\nThe _Magazine_ is hard to please. It condemned, in July last, the\nchurch as our established church; we made answer that she neither\nis nor wishes to be the established church. It now, in December,\ncondemns her no less as the unestablished church. It blames us both\nfor opposing and for not opposing the common schools, for agreeing\nand for not agreeing with our own church, and for opposing and for\nnot opposing religious liberty. Both the church, and we, personally,\nmust be wrong anyhow. If its specific charges against her are false,\nthen the contrary must be true and equally charges against her. If\nshe is not the synagogue of Satan, she is the church of God, which\nis just as bad. Nothing can disconcert it or prove it in the wrong,\nsince it sees no inconsistency in urging charges that refute each\nother. Yet it represents and speaks for the _enlightened_ portion of\nmankind!\n\nThe _Magazine_ labors at length to prove that the church opposes,\nand quotes the _Syllabus_ to prove that she must oppose, the common\nschool system as it is; and yet sees in this fact no reason why\nCatholics cannot, with a good conscience, send their children to\nthem. We are opposed to the common schools as they are, because our\nchurch condemns them; that is, because founded on what we hold to\nbe a false principle, and hostile alike to religion and society;\nbut if Protestants want them for themselves, they can have them;\nfor the church legislates only for Catholics, not for non-Catholics\nwho reject her authority. Hence, we oppose the system as a system\nfor Catholics, not as a system intended for Protestants. We do not\napprove the system even for them, any more than we do their heresy\nand schism, which we account \"deadly sins;\" but if they insist on\nhaving godless schools for their children, they can have them; we\ncannot hinder them. The system might be modified so that we could\naccept it; but it depends on them so to modify it or not, for they\nhave the power.\n\nThe _Magazine_ withdraws its false statement as to the millions\nof property held in fee-simple by the five bishops in the State,\nbut blames the law of 1863, which incorporates the church in the\nseveral New York dioceses, as securing to her advantages of which\nthe non-Catholic religious denominations are deprived. This is a\nmistake. It only secures to her the rights secured to these under\nthe general law for creating, continuing, and reviving religious\nsocieties and parishes, and which are not secured to her under\nthat general law. That law proceeds on the assumption that in\necclesiastical organizations the parish is the unit, which is not\ntrue with regard to the church. With us the unit is the diocese, and\nthe bishop, not the parochus, is, strictly speaking, the pastor. To\nproceed on the contrary supposition would be to interfere with the\ninternal constitution and discipline of the church, and to deprive\nher of that control over her own temporalities which is possessed by\nevery Protestant denomination in the State. The law objected to only\nsecures to the church equal rights with the sects--only it does it\nby another method made necessary by the fact that the diocese, not\nthe parish, in her constitution, is the unit. The law only places\nthe church on a footing of equality, before the state, with the\nProtestant sects, and no friend of religious liberty can reasonably\nobject to it. It secures the public against abuses, the application\nof the property held to church purposes, and the church the free\nmanagement of her own temporalities.\n\nThe _Magazine_ complains that the law is no longer equal, because\nit is not the same for all religious denominations. Has it never\noccurred to it that one and the same law for all would operate\nunequally, for all have not the same internal constitution? The\nlaw very proper and just for Presbyterians, whose organic unit\nis the parish, could in no manner secure the same rights to the\nchurch, whose organic unit is the diocese. Here is precisely where\nProtestants usually err in their legislation, and violate the equal\nrights they profess to approve. They overlook the fact that the\nsame law can bear equally only on denominations that are organized\nafter one and the same model, and that for the state to set up a\nmodel, and outlaw all denominations that do not, or in so far as\nthey do not conform to it, is a violation of religious liberty\nand of equal rights. It is practically to establish one form of\nchurch organization and deny its protection to all churches that do\nnot see proper to adopt it. Religious liberty requires that each\ndenomination be left free, so far as the civil power is concerned,\nto adopt such form of church organization in relation to its own\ntemporalities as well as spirituals as it chooses; and the equal\nrights of all require the state to respect and protect each in\nthe full possession and enjoyment of its own particular form of\norganization. The law must not be simply the same for the Catholic\nand the Congregationalist, but must be so framed as to give each the\nsame rights; to the church, with her constitution and discipline, all\nthe freedom and protection that it does to the Congregationalist,\nwith his congregational organization and discipline. This is what the\nlaw of this State enacted in 1863 attempts to secure, and partially,\nif not wholly, succeeds in doing. The Protestant, that is, the rabid\nProtestant, objects to that law, not because it discriminates in\nfavor of Catholicity, but because it gives to the church the same\nlegal protection that it does to non-Catholic churches, and does not\ndiscriminate in favor of Protestantism as all previous legislation\non the subject had done, at least in its practical operation.\n\nWe are accused, because we say the church here desires no\nestablishment by law--for she has what is better than such\nestablishment--of contradicting the _Syllabus_, and going against\nthe supreme pontiff. We accept the _Syllabus_ without the slightest\nreserve, though probably not the _Magazine's_ sense. The _Syllabus_\ncondemns those who demand the separation of church and state in the\nsense of the European liberals; but not us for not requiring the\nchurch to be established by law as the state church. Those liberals\nmean by the separation of church and state the independence of the\nstate, and its right to pursue its own policy irrespective of the\nrights and interests of religion. In that sense we also condemn the\nseparation, and are continually warring against it as political\natheism. But we deny that in that sense, or in the sense of the\n_Syllabus_, we do or ever have advocated the separation of church\nand state. That separation does not and ought not to exist in this\ncountry. This is not an infidel, a godless country, though it may be\nfast becoming so; and Christianity is, as it should be, the supreme\nlaw of the land, as it is part and parcel of the Common Law. An act\nof the Legislature of the State or the nation forbidding Christianity\nor authorizing acts directly against it would be null and void from\nthe beginning, and be treated by the courts as would be a _jus\nmuncipium_ in violation of the _jus gentium_.\n\nThe rights of Christianity are by our civil institutions recognized\nas paramount to all others. They are called by us the rights of\nman, rights which are held not from the state, but immediately from\nthe Creator, and therefore are more properly called the rights\nof God than the rights of man. These rights limit the rights and\nauthority of the state; for it is bound to respect them as sacred and\ninviolable, and to protect and defend them for each and every person\nwithin its jurisdiction to the full extent of its power. Among these\nrights is the right of conscience, which, in fact, is the chief, the\nvery basis of all our so-called natural and inalienable rights. My\nright of conscience is the law for the state, and prohibits it from\nenacting any thing that violates it. My conscience is my church, the\nCatholic Church; and any restriction of her freedom, or any act in\nviolation of her rights, violates or abridges my right or freedom of\nconscience, which, where equal rights are recognized, the state has\nno right to do in my case any more than in that of any other.\n\nMy church, the Catholic Church, is, by virtue of my citizenship\nand my right of conscience, the law of the state so far as her own\nfreedom is concerned, and as is necessary to protect and defend her\nin the free and full enjoyment of her rights. The church is free in\nand to the full extent of my freedom of conscience; and though I\nhave no right to impose my conscience on another, I have the right\nto protest against any and every act of the state that is repugnant\nto it or contrary to my church. The state is just as much bound to\nrespect, protect, and defend the Catholic Church in her faith, her\nconstitution, her discipline, and her worship, as if she were the\nonly religious body in the nation. Other religious bodies exist\nand have, not before God, but before civil society, equal rights\nwith her; and if the state can do nothing to violate their rights of\nconscience, it can do nothing to violate hers, as it in fact does\nin its legislation in regard to marriage and divorce, both here and\nin nearly all European states and empires. It cannot violate the\nCatholic conscience in order to conform to the Protestant conscience.\n\nHere is the way in which we understand the separation of church and\nstate, as it exists in this country, and we feel quite sure that we\ndo not incur the censure of the _Syllabus_. We have here done nothing\nbut set forth in its true light the religious liberty recognized by\nour American system of government, and which forms the basis of our\ncivil liberty. Our church is here with all her freedom, in all her\nintegrity, by right, not merely tolerated; and by a right which is\nnot a civil grant and revocable at will, but by the irrevocable grant\nof God. Her full and entire freedom is recognized by the fundamental\nprinciple of the American state, and we demand that the civil law\nrespect and protect her freedom against all gainsayers. So much we\ndemand on the ground of equal rights and in the name of inviolable\nconscience. When we go farther and ask more from the state than\nequality with the sects, we give _Putnam's Magazine_ full liberty to\ndenounce us, and to condemn us as the enemies of religious liberty.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[143] See Debates in the New York State Convention, 1867 and 1868,\nvol. iii. pp. 2736-2744.\n\n\n\n\nA POLISH PATRIOTIC HYMN.\n\n\nIn an obscure corner of the Mazarine Library, at Paris, was lately\ndiscovered by its director or librarian in chief, Mr. Philar\u00e8te\nChasles, a small black prayer-book; an oblong duodecimo, gilt-edged,\nalthough printed on poor gray paper. It was in the Polish tongue,\nwith the exception of the vesper-hymns and some canticles of the\nchurch in Latin. No catalogue chronicled its existence, and it was,\nevidently, a despised waif, rejected as of too little importance to\nbe entitled to a place in the dignified alcoves.\n\nOn examination, it was found to contain the following original Latin\node--a remarkable composition in many respects, touchingly beautiful\nin a simplicity at once tender and vigorous, and an exquisite\ncombination of piety and patriotism.\n\nIt was doubtless sung in the churches of Poland about the year 1740,\nwhen Europe stood aloof in silent ingratitude to those who, following\nSobieski's sword, had saved her from the Turk; when England was of\ncourse indifferent to the fate of a Catholic nation; when France was\nwithout sympathy for the faithful, and her kings proved then, more\nthan ever, that Catholicity would have been better off without their\naid; when Catharine of Russia gilded her cupidity with philosophical\nmaxims, and Frederick of Prussia, called the Great, calumniated those\nhe robbed.\n\nAs we read the hymn, we can well imagine the crowd in front of the\naltar, covered with flowers, in some rude, white-walled village\nchurch. They kneel before the infant Jesus in his mother's arms.\nPeasants in their national costume--a long, white blouse reaching to\nthe knee, the curved sabre in the belt--children, soldiers, women,\nyoung girls. They chant one of those peculiarly wild Slavonic rhythms\nin 6/8 or 3/8. There, prostrate, with clasped hands, their weeping\neyes on the infant Saviour, the child Liberator, they intone these\nbeautiful Latin strophes, a rare specimen of spontaneous and popular\npoetry:\n\nAD PARVULUM CHRISTUM CONTRA HOSTES PATRI\u00c6.\n\n    1.\n\n    Benevolus audi\n    Qu\u00e6 tu\u00e6 sunt laudi,\n    O Parvule delicate!\n    Patriam defende!\n    Tu solus es agnus\n    Et fortis et magnus!\n    Qui perfidum Turcam\n    Compellis ad furcam!\n    Patriam! patriam! patriam\n          Defende!\n\n     Mercifully listen to those who praise and implore thee, O tender\n     Infant! Defend our country. Thou alone art the Lamb, alone\n     powerful! alone great! Exterminator of the treacherous Turk. Our\n     country, our country, ah! defend our country.\n\nBarbarous and artificial strophes, perhaps you think? Yes, measured\nby Lucretius and Virgil, they may be; poor, thin, leonine verses like\nthose of the twelfth century Benedictine monk who wrote,\n\n    Gloria factorum temere conceditur horum,\n\nsinging verses without prosodial measure, their vehement and rapid\nrhyme answering for every thing. And yet this learned barbarism,\nborrowed from the seventh century, from a poetry in ruins, gives life\nto the ardent flame and the tragic sorrow it expresses. It is a deep\ncry of anguish from the innermost depths of a stricken people's heart.\n\nWe hear the divine and child-like victim invoked in his feebleness by\na vanquished nation, and appealed to in his shivering nakedness (_et\nfriges et taces_) by the oppressed in tears, and these cries form a\nsad though sublime harmony. The unknown ecclesiastical minstrel--for\nthe poetry is anonymous--continues:\n\n    2.\n\n    O nefas! O crimen!\n    Mors transit limen!\n    O Parvule delicate!\n    Patriam defende!\n    Jam victima sumus,\n    Et pulvis et fumus.\n        Patriam!\n        Patriam!\n    Patriam defende!\n\n     O injustice! O crime! Death advances! O tender Infant! defend our\n     country. Already are we victims, naught but smoke and dust. Our\n     country, etc., etc.\n\n    3.\n\n    Tu nudus hic jaces\n    Et friges et taces!\n    O Parvule delicate!\n    Patriam defende!\n    Minusculum pectus,\n    Duriusculus lectus!\n    Nihilominus telo\n    Pugnabis e coelo!\n        Patriam!\n        Patriam!\n    Patriam defende!\n\n     All naked as we see thee, and cold and silent! O tender Infant!\n     defend our country. Delicate is thy breast. Hard is thy couch! And\n     yet, from heaven on high, wilt thou combat for us! Our country,\n     etc., etc.\n\nThis people's poet and clever Latinist is liberal of his diminutives,\n_minusculum_, _duriusculus_, and displays, withal, a curious\naffectation of rhyming richness, _Turcam, furcam_; _lectus, pectus_;\n_laudi, audi_; _magnus, agnus_. And yet there is deep emotion and\nprofound lyric agitation compressed into the shortest possible\nstrophes, all vigorously concise and eloquently expressive. We omit\nseveral beautiful verses:\n\n    4.\n\n    Grassantur,\n    Furantur,\n    Pr\u00e6dantur,\n    Bacchantur!\n    O Parvule delicate!\n    Patriam defende!\n    Nil tutum\n    Nil ausum,\n    Nil satis est clausum!\n    Nil foedera valent.\n    Cum h\u00e6reses calent.\n        Patriam!\n        Patriam!\n    Patriam defende!\n\n     Devastating, raging, slaying, in orgies they ruin. O tender\n     Infant! defend our country. Naught is safe with us, naught\n     withholds them. Heresy triumphs! Treaties are trampled upon! Our\n     country, etc., etc.\n\n    5.\n\n    Polonia perit\n    Et spolium erit.\n    O Parvule delicate!\n    Patriam defende!\n    Tu fregeris nisi\n    Vim hostis invisi,\n    Oppresseris facem\n    Et dederis pacem!\n        Patriam!\n        Patriam!\n    Patriam defende!\n\n     Poland perishes. A prey she becomes. O tender Infant! defend our\n     country. Sealed is her fate, unless thou breakest the force of the\n     enemy that crushes her; unless thou givest peace. Our country,\n     etc., etc.\n\n    6.\n\n    Est tempus, est hora\n    Ne, qu\u00e6so, sit mora!\n    Parvule delicate!\n    Patriam defende!\n    Vicini laborant,\n    Et aliud orant!\n    Quod perfidus hostis\n    Nos, superi, nostis!\n        Patriam!\n        Patriam!\n    Patriam defende!\n\n     The time and the hour have come. Oh! delay not, I implore. O\n     tender Infant! save our country. With other things our neighbors\n     are occupied. Thou, O God supreme! knowest the designs of the\n     enemy. Defend, defend our country!\n\nHow admirable the popular simplicity preserved here--an infantine\ntenderness, a Slavonian murmur, a solemn melody resembling the\nmoaning sigh of weeping willows, an echo of those charming Lithuanian\nballads finding voice in the grand old ecclesiastical Roman idiom.\n\n\n\n\nTHROUGH DEVIOUS WAYS.\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nI was given to psychological studies in those days; was fond of\nattributing vagaries of disposition and eccentricities of temper to\ninherited perversions, insurmountable in themselves, and consequently\nthe misfortunes--not faults--of their possessors. At that time I\nfirmly believed in the mysterious attraction of soul to soul; in the\nmutual recognition of kindred spirits, and their sympathy with each\nother from behind the barriers of flesh and blood. I do not say I\nhave quite abandoned the opinion now; but there is a reservation.\n\nI had dipped a little into German mysticism; had sifted, as I\nthought, all creeds to the bottom--all save one. For Catholicity and\nits \"superstitions\" I had always entertained too profound a contempt\nto seek to acquire a further knowledge of its doctrines than any\nintelligent American can learn from the well-read (?) theologians\nwho form its antipodes, and who launch forth anathemas against\nRome on high-days and holidays when other subjects weary or grow\nflat. I flattered myself that my acquaintance with this particular\nform of idolatry was quite thorough for all practical purposes;\nthe contamination extended no further; and yet I believe my case\nwould represent that of nine tenths of the thinking, intelligent\nProtestants of this peculiarly-favored and grace-illumined country.\n\nIt was--for me--the first party of the season. January had almost\ndanced itself away, and the fashionables were beginning to anticipate\nLent; but until to-night I had persistently refused all invitations\nfrom friends and acquaintances. Of the former I had very few; I\nhad grown tired of the world, of pleasure-seeking, of myself. What\nwonder, when, in the great city of New York, with its hundreds of\nthousands of throbbing hearts, there was not one to whom in solemn\ntruth I could hold out the right hand of friendship; not one upon\nwhose sympathies I could anchor, should the tide of fortune turn and\nleave me, a rich man to-day, the sport of her cruel waves to-morrow?\n\nI prided myself on being cynical, turning out of the way of all\nstepping-stones that might have led to a happier existence; there was\nlittle faith in human nature in my heart, no religion in my soul.\n\nDissatisfied with my own aimless life, I sought no mirror in the\nlives of others; self-sufficient and cold, I avoided kindness and\nsympathetic associations. I was just at that point when satiety and\ndisgust render the world and its attributes almost unendurable.\n\nOn the evening before mentioned, I had been introduced to young\nladies by the dozen; had mentally criticised, weighed, and found\nwanting each one upon whom I had inflicted the bane of my company\nthrough a dance. Tired and ill-humored, I was about going forward to\ntake leave of the hostess, when a few words spoken just behind me\nmade me pause and look around, curious to know who the \"sweet singer\"\nmight be.\n\nIt was a woman's voice, clear and sweet, and the words were, \"No,\nthank you; I never dance the round dances.\"\n\nBut a surging crowd of feverish waltzers drifted by me at the moment,\nas the delirious strains of Strauss's _Zamora_ floated up from the\nbalcony, and the face I would have scanned was lost amid the throng.\n\nAs I moved off a little from the dancers, and watched cheeks flush\nand bright eyes grow brighter at the call of voluptuous music, I\ncould not but wonder at the inconsistency of fate and fortune that\nhad brought into this ultra-fashionable gathering a lady, certainly\nyoung, and probably beautiful, who \"did not dance the round dances.\"\n\nI passed into the adjoining room. Several of the waltzers, tired\nand heated, had left the crowded _salon_ before me; here and there\na stray wall-flower tried to look unconscious and happy in the midst\nof desolation; but my eye psychological wandered in vain up and down,\nseeking a face that would seem to indicate the owner of the voice\nheard a few moments before. At length a very young girl issued from\na group that had been standing near an open window, and, as I marked\nthe expression of her faultless mouth and soft blue eyes, I said to\nmyself, \"That is the one.\" But at the moment a gay young West-Pointer\nstepped forward to meet her, and in another instant my Madonna was\nwhirling through the giddy maze.\n\n\"Pshaw!\" I ejaculated half aloud, disappointed to find my\nintuitiveness at fault, and turned as I did so to encounter an old\nfriend, not seen for some time, who entered from the conservatory in\ncompany with a lady.\n\nSurprise and pleasure caused us momentarily to forget politeness, so\nthat several sentences were interchanged before Armitage recollected\nhimself, and said, \"Allow me, Helen. My friend, Mr. Moray, Miss\nFoster.\" I muttered something--the young lady bowed; that was all.\nThe couple passed on; and I am bound to confess that I did not notice\nthe color of the lady's eyes or hair, and never once thought of her\nexpression, psychologist as I was.\n\nI recognized no kinship of feeling or sympathy as we stood within\nthe circle of each other's magnetism; and yet my \"destiny\" had come\nto me, and the soul within me, that was to have risen and grown\nconscious at the approach, stood mute and made no sign.\n\nAfter that, Fred Armitage called at my rooms several times, and\nsucceeded in winning me away from my exclusiveness, in so much that\nI promised to be at his disposal for New Year's day, on condition\nthat his visits of congratulation would be few and well chosen. He\nlaughed at my conceit, as he was pleased to call it. \"I don't fancy\nevery body any more than you do, Ed,\" he said; \"but one must make\nallowances and be sociable with the world. There's a difference\nbetween friends and acquaintances. One need not have the former if\none doesn't wish; but the latter are indispensable, unless you give\nup the amenities of civilization at once.\" After which remark we\nsallied forth.\n\nToward evening, and when I had vowed for the fourth time that each\nsuccessive call would be my last, Fred paused before a handsome house\non Fifth Avenue.\n\n\"I am not going in,\" I said, almost savagely, as he announced his\nintention of entering.\n\n\"Only here,\" he answered, \"and I promise I'll go home with you. I\nmust call. I should have made this one first; but I wanted to save\nthe best morsel for the last. Come; Helen would never forgive me if I\nneglected her to-day.\"\n\n\"And what claim has the young lady on your time and affections?\" I\nasked, somewhat more quietly than before, \"you are not in love, or\nengaged, or any thing of that kind?\"\n\n\"_Ni l'un ni l'autre_; it is my cousin, Helen Foster. I introduced\nyou at Mrs. Parry's.\"\n\nI had not time to say more; for the door opened at this juncture,\nand we were ushered into a large and elegantly furnished parlor,\nwhere sat two ladies--one old, and very charming in her old age; the\nother young and beautiful. Not lovely; there was nothing airy or\nfragile about her; but radiant, with a fresh, bright color in her\ncheeks that made one think of long walks taken on wintry mornings;\nwith large brown eyes, which, while they did not fall or fear as they\nlooked into yours, yet had a shade of reticence, almost bashfulness,\nin their untroubled depths; with a wealth of rippling hair, golden\nbrown, crowning the well-poised head and defining the delicate ear;\nwith a hand that felt warm, soft, and friendly, as mine closed over\nit.\n\n\"We have met before, I believe,\" she said, as Armitage repeated my\nname; then, turning to the other lady, \"Mr. Moray, grandmamma, a\nfriend of Fred's.\" And the dear little figure in the arm-chair rose\nand greeted me most kindly.\n\n\"Has there been no one here to-day, Helen?\" asked Fred; \"you look\nas though you were quite fresh, and not at all fatigued from the\nexchange of compliments, hand-shaking, etc.\"\n\n\"Oh! yes, there have been some few,\" she said. \"But grandmamma lives\nentirely at home, and you know I patronize society but seldom;\nconsequently, we have been spared the dear five hundred particular\nfriends, and flatter ourselves we feel quite as comfortable,\nnotwithstanding. Isn't it so, grandmamma?\" And she placed her hand\naffectionately on the old lady's arm. As the tones of her clear,\nwell-modulated voice reached my ear, a vision of lights and flowers\nand flying feet rose before me, and I almost heard the bewildering\nwaltz-music float through the air. And then, lifting my eyes to the\nface of the lady before me, I recognized my _rara avis_ of that\nevening--the girl of the period who did not dance round dances.\n\nTo say that I was not interested in her from the first, would be to\nsay an untruth. Her personality affected me pleasantly, and somewhat\nstrangely. There was a freshness and elasticity about her that did\nnot proceed from inexperience or unacquaintance with the world; for\ndignity and self-possession characterized her every movement, and\nyet she seemed entirely unconscious of any claim to originality or\nnaturalness; because she _was_ so natural. Our call, that was to have\nbeen so short, lengthened itself into an hour. Fred and his cousin\nmade themselves mutually agreeable. I addressed myself to the elder\nlady, now and then exchanging a few words with the others.\n\nWhen Fred arose to take leave, I felt no disposition to join him, and\nvery unaccountably and inconsistently reproached him in my own mind\nfor being in a hurry.\n\nFor the first time in many months I had felt sociably disposed,\nand had endeavored to make myself agreeable; and I was reluctant\nto leave that quiet, home-like parlor and its occupants, both so\ndifferent from the brilliant, giddy butterflies within the flutter\nof whose wings I had been vacillating all that day. As we passed out\ninto the still, cold night, I looked up at the quiet stars with a\nkindly feeling. Fred talked in an unbroken stream until we reached\nmy rooms. Arrived there, we spent the rest of the evening smoking\nand chatting. I expressed myself pleased with his cousin and her\ngrandmother, whose only grandchild and sole heiress he informed me\nshe was. The clock struck twelve as he rose to go. After I had come\nback to the fire, I remember the wholly strange, almost sorrowful\nfeeling that possessed me. Gazing into the dying embers, I dreamed\na half-waking dream, wherein the ghosts of other New Years dead and\ngone took form and shape, and with shadowy, reproachful gestures,\nseemed to beckon me away, back through old scenes and hopes and\nyearnings--faded--buried--vanished all for ever.\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nOne afternoon in early spring, I happened to pass the cathedral\njust as service was over. I had spent the previous evening with\nMiss Foster--an event of not unusual occurrence now, although I\nnever called unless when accompanied by Armitage. The current of my\nthoughts flowed pleasantly as the crowd of devout worshippers issued\nforth from their devotions. A lady passed out of the gate, and I\nimmediately recognized the figure as that of Miss Foster. \"Eccentric,\ncertainly,\" I thought; \"just like what I would imagine she might do.\nStrange that some of our most intelligent and highly educated women\ncan fancy this attending Catholic churches.\"\n\nI quickened my steps, and in a moment was at her side.\n\n\"Have you been at vespers, Mr. Moray?\" she asked, as though it were\nthe most natural thing in the world that I should have been there.\n\n\"Not I,\" I replied laughingly; \"but you have, I presume?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" she rejoined, \"grandmamma will be scolding me, I am afraid. I\nwent up-stairs to lie down after dinner, having a slight headache.\nBut once in my room, I felt as though a walk would benefit me more,\nso I stole out.\"\n\n\"A crowded church is not the best place in the world in which to get\nrid of the headache,\" I responded.\n\n\"Mine has vanished, however,\" was the reply. \"It had quite\ndisappeared before I reached the church.\"\n\n\"Do you affect Catholic ceremonies generally, Miss Foster?\" I asked;\n\"or rather do you admire Catholicism in the abstract? Or is it the\nincense and music and wax tapers that possess charms for you?\"\n\n\"All these collectively have attractions for me,\" she answered; \"but\nnot in the way you imagine. You are inclined to believe, no doubt,\nthat it is some romantic and impressionable vein in my nature that\nsends me within the influence of Catholic ceremonies and their\naccessories. But we are all liable to error; and you will not be\ndeeply wounded, I hope, if I venture to advise you of your mistake in\nthis instance. I am a Catholic, and hold all these things as a part\nof my faith.\"\n\n\"A Catholic!\" I exclaimed in undisguised astonishment. \"A Catholic!\nNot a Roman Catholic, Miss Foster? You mean that you are one in the\ntrue sense of the term?\"\n\n\"I hope I do--I think that is what I mean. I am, by the grace of God,\na Roman Catholic.\" And it seemed to me she spoke almost maliciously,\nas though deliberately to wound my dearest prejudices.\n\n\"You will the more readily excuse me for my inability to realize\nthis information,\" I replied, \"when I tell you that until now my\nacquaintance with members of your church has been very limited,\nand that those whom I have met have always belonged to the lowest\nclasses of society. I find it difficult to convince myself that you\ncan profess a belief whose tenets have always appeared to me to be a\nweb of superstition. My associates have been altogether Protestant,\nand my prejudices, as you would call them, very decided wherever\nRome was concerned. You may think me blunt, even impertinent; but\nallow me at the same time to acknowledge that I feel confident there\nmust be something good and beautiful in a religion that one of your\nintelligence and refinement admires and professes.\"\n\n\"There is something good and beautiful in all religions,\" she\nanswered, \"or they would not be worthy of the name--mere attempts\nand half promises as most of them are. But in ours all is goodness\nand beauty. I can pardon, even understand your prejudices; for I\nshared them once. I was born and educated in the Presbyterian faith;\na faith hard, cold, and unconsoling. I can remember the time when\nI regarded Catholicity as but another form of heathenism. For your\nestimate of my intelligence and refinement I can only thank you--all\nthe more as you have never had opportunity to judge correctly of\neither; consequently I must take the verdict for what it is worth.\nBut here I am at home, and the lamps are lighted. How late it must\nbe. Thank you again, and good evening.\"\n\nWith a little rippling laugh she left my side, and almost before I\nhad time to answer her parting salutation, she had tripped up the\nsteps and entered the house.\n\nA crowd of conflicting thoughts pursued each other in my mind as I\ncontinued my walk. A consciousness that I endeavored vainly to ignore\ngrew stronger as I reflected on what had passed, and weighed more\nminutely all the circumstances of our meeting and acquaintance. And\nwith it was mingled a feeling of disappointment, almost of vexation\nand pain, as though I had been touched and assailed by some detested\nenemy.\n\nI grew restless; nothing satisfied me. People said I looked ill. No\nwonder, when I sat up half the night trying to divert my mind from\nthe study of its own problems, to those of incomprehensible German\nphilosophy. I reasoned with what I was pleased to term my weakness.\nBut what could I do? I had kept out of the way of temptation; I had\navoided assemblies where I knew she was likely to be; twenty times\nI had stood upon the threshold of her home, and as often turned and\nretraced my steps. One night I sat alone in my room, and almost vowed\nto put the thought of her from my mind at once and for ever. As I\nmused, Armitage entered unannounced.\n\n\"Desolate and melancholy as ever,\" he said cheerfully, and the sound\nof his happy voice made me desperate. Suddenly, involuntarily, I\nmight say, I found myself answering him,\n\n\"I am tired of being desolate and melancholy though;\" then\ncarelessly, \"What if we saunter down to Miss Foster's?\"\n\nFred was all willingness, while surprised at my change of mood. We\nwalked leisurely along. When we reached the house, Fred remarked that\nthe shutters were closed, and that there was some probability of the\nyoung lady being out. I said nothing, but made a solemn compact with\nmyself while we waited. \"If she is not at home,\" I thought, \"that vow\nshall be registered and kept; if she is, _che sera sera_.\"\n\nMiss Helen was at home, the servant said. She reproached me for\nnot having called in such a length of time, and wondered if the\nrevelation made at our last meeting had not helped to keep me away.\nThen turning, to her cousin she said laughingly, \"Mr. Moray was\nhorrified the other day, to hear of my being a Catholic.\"\n\n\"The other day?\" I answered. \"It is fully three months ago, and I\nhave not yet been able to reconcile my mind to the fact.\"\n\n\"It is a fact though, Ed,\" said Armitage; \"and greatly as I deplored\nthe calamity when it happened four years ago, I must confess that\nHelen has changed for the better in the interval. You see, she was\nmost irrepressible, some time since--before her conversion, as she\ncalls it--doing every thing by fits and starts, and holding every one\nunder the severest of despotisms; but I actually believe this little\ndevotion she has, this habit of confessing, has toned her down and\nmade her the rational creature we see her. That's how you account for\nthe change, isn't it, coz?\"\n\n\"Fred, you are unconscionable. Mr. Moray knows you as well as I do,\nno doubt, and weighs your veracity proportionately. You don't admire\nShelley, Mr. Moray?\" interrogatively, as I turned over the pages of\na richly bound edition of that author which lay upon a little table\nnear me.\n\n\"No; and yet I do not look at him from the same point of view as you\nprobably would. I think he was crazy. You, I suppose, would pass a\nmore merciless judgment.\"\n\n\"Let us be charitable,\" she said, \"and hope that he was insane. But\nunhappily his was a species of insanity of which there are but too\nmany instances.\"\n\nAfter that, the talk fell upon books generally. The hours slipped by,\nand eleven o'clock had struck before we took leave. Before I left her\nthat night, I had thrown down the barriers crumbling so long; I had\nseen and recognized a true, womanly woman, and, all unknown to her,\nhad accepted what I knew to be the inevitable.\n\nAfter this I went often to the enchanted castle. My fairy princess\nwas nearly always accessible, but so she was to the rest of the\nworld as well. How could I hope to be the favored knight, when her\nsmiles were bestowed on all so generously? She was invariably kind\nand cordial; sometimes slightly sarcastic and critical, but never\nmoody or sad. I often wondered from what source she drew her abundant\ncheerfulness, and how she managed to preserve it.\n\nNever by word or look had I intimated my own feelings toward her;\nsomething told me to linger at the gate of paradise, content to\nsee the roses blooming without daring to venture in. I felt that\na suspicion once aroused in her mind would change our relations\ncompletely; and I had not begun to hope.\n\nAs things stood, we grew to be excellent friends. Our views differed\nwidely on many points, but religion was the only really sensitive\ntopic. More than once I had noticed a look of pain in her face when\nI startled her with some of my materialistic views, and at last\nwe tacitly avoided the subject altogether. While I admired her\nbeautiful simplicity and faith, I could not understand then, as I\ndo now, how any aspersion cast upon that faith could wound her as\ndeeply as though it sought herself, and I had never wished to take\nit from her. In hopeful moments, few and far between, when I had\ndared to think of her as my wife, the thought of her religion and\nthe absence of it in me had, strangely enough, never intruded itself\nupon me. Consequently, it was from no desire to weaken or alter her\nconvictions in any particular that I became almost involuntarily\ninstrumental in bringing matters to a crisis.\n\nWe had been reading French together, or, to speak more correctly,\nI had been reading it to her, one evening of every week, with the\nostensible purpose of improving my pronunciation under her tutelage;\nfor she spoke the language beautifully.\n\nOne day an old Parisian who lodged in the house with me, and who\noccasionally made my sitting-room the theatre of a homily on Victor\nHugo, Sainte-Beuve, and their _confr\u00e8res_, laid upon my table a copy\nof Renan's \"_grand succ\u00e8s_.\"\n\n\"Read it,\" he said; \"read it in the original; it loses by\ntranslation.\"\n\nI promised to do so. That evening I took it with me to Miss Foster's.\nAs I walked leisurely along, the thought struck me that my \"teacher\"\nmight probably not admire the \"_grand succ\u00e8s_;\" but it only lingered\na moment, and troubled me but little. \"No harm in bringing it, any\nhow--the style is good,\" I soliloquized, and rang the bell in a\nhappier frame of mind than I had known for weeks. Fred usually joined\nus on French evenings, but to-night another engagement claimed him.\nHelen was sitting alone when I entered the parlor.\n\n\"Grandmamma has a headache this evening, and will not be down,\" she\nsaid apologetically.\n\nI sat down, made a few trifling remarks, to which she responded, and\nthen arose to bring the book we had been reading.\n\n\"Wait, I have something else to-night,\" I said, taking the volume\nfrom the table where I had placed it.\n\n\"What is it?\" she asked, resuming her seat.\n\n\"Renan's book,\" I replied confidently. \"I thought I would bring it\nwith me. He has an excellent style--unique and polished. He is the\nlast sensation, you know.\"\n\n\"I will not read it,\" she said in a low tone.\n\n\"I'll read and you will listen,\" I answered. \"That is the usual\narrangement, is it not?\"\n\n\"I will not listen;\" she replied, and I saw by the angry flush\nmantling her forehead that I had committed a grave error; that she\nmisunderstood my motives and was vexed.\n\n\"Pardon me,\" I said. \"We will not read it, if you so desire; but\nat the same time there can be no harm in informing one's self on\nopposite views from our own. This is the spirit in which I should\nread the book, not fearing that it would bias my mind either one way\nor the other. Can you not be as liberal?\"\n\nShe left her seat and began fingering in a nervous way the ornaments\nthat lay upon the mantel.\n\n\"I have no wish to hear my God and my religion railed and blasphemed\nat either at first or second hand,\" she said. \"It would be none the\nless painful coming from the lips of one whom I had almost learned\nto call friend; but who has to-night in a very few words shown me\nmy mistake. For my religion I have long been aware that you cherish\nan undisguised contempt; for myself I had hoped you entertained no\ncontemptuous feeling. Surely, I have never given you reason for your\naction of this evening.\"\n\nWhile she was speaking I had shaped my course. Precipitate as it\nmight be, there was nothing left me now but a declaration of my\nreal sentiments, unless I would forfeit her esteem for ever. Fully\nconscious of the disadvantages of time and circumstance as I was, and\nwithout any presumption of success, I then and there resolved to tell\nher the whole truth. It was but a hastening to the end.\n\n\"Stop one moment,\" I replied; \"a word with you. You have wronged me\nby intimating that I purposed aught of disrespect to you or your\nreligion by what I have unthinkingly done this evening. I could do\nneither; for I love you. How deeply, I, who have struggled with that\nlove for months, alone can know; how entirely and unselfishly, you\nperhaps might learn, could you find it in your heart to let me show\nyou; how vainly, my own heart tells me while I watch your face.\nSurprised you may be--I have no doubt you are; displeased too, but\nI take no blame to myself for that. An honest man dares lift his\neyes to a noble woman; and whatever be my faults, and they are many;\nwherever lie my errors, and they are thickly sown, I still can call\nmyself an honest man.\"\n\nShe moved further away from where I stood, and once or twice, while I\nwas speaking, made a movement as though to interrupt me. As I uttered\nthe last words, I saw her eyes flash, and a half sarcastic smile\nwreathe itself about her lips.\n\n\"You call yourself an honest man,\" she said; \"an honest man! What\nis your code, and who the lawgiver? Is it honest to leave untilled\nand brier-strewn the soil that has been given you in trust for an\nendless harvest-time; to waste the talents that have been bestowed on\nyou with lavish hand; to spend days and months and years in pleasant\nidleness, as you have done, and as you do? Is it honest to wrap\nyourself in a mantle of false and hollow cynicism, lest your better\nnature might have opportunity to assert its capacities and prove its\npossibilities; to scoff at all creeds and professions of religion\nas so many shams and superstitions, because from the nature of the\nlife you lead your own ideal must be both hypocrisy and sham? I am\nonly a woman, and such men as you place but little confidence in a\nwoman's judgment and far-sightedness. But I have read you deeper\nthan you suppose. Evening after evening, while you sat here reading,\ntalking to me, I have been studying you. I have recognized emotions\nthat your pride would call weaknesses; thoughts that your worldly\nwisdom seeks to cover with a jest or smile; great capabilities of\nsacrifice that your every-day exterior conceals under _dilettante_\ntastes and careless ways. I have seen that in your eye, heard that in\nyour voice, which has made me marvel how a soul like yours could be\ncontent with husks and bitterness. For you, yourself, I could have\nsympathy; but I scorn the evil spirit that is in you.\"\n\nI had loved her before; but as she stood there taxing me with that\nto the consciousness of which I was but just awakening, my love gave\none great bound and seemed to sit enthroned high above sight or\nsound of human passion, even while, with every word she uttered, the\nknowledge of its vain endeavor fastened itself more firmly upon me.\nI was about to speak, but she interrupted me, and the words came more\nslowly now, and more kindly.\n\n\"I may have spoken harshly,\" she said. \"Indeed, I am sure I have.\nBut it was of yourself with regard to yourself, and in what I said\nthere was no thought of my own connection with the subject. As to\nthat part of it, I can have none; but I think, however much or little\na woman esteems a man, there must be something especially tender in\nher dealings with one who has made her the offering of his love. You\nwill believe me, then, when I say that I am pained, deeply pained,\nthat you should have given yours to me, or deemed its acknowledgment\nnecessary. Words are idle and superfluous here. I can and do\nappreciate it; I can be, I am your friend. Forgive me if I have been\nharsh; in calmer moments you will come to think of me as one whose\nwords were quick and too impulsive, but who had your interest at\nheart. Now let me go. Do not speak further, I beg of you; it would\nonly pain us both.\"\n\n\"But a few words,\" I said; \"a very few. You have aimed surely, and\nstruck deep. I do not blame you for my mistake, nor for that which\nyou term harshness. I cannot, since I recognize its truth. The\ndifference between you and most women is, that you are brave enough\nto speak that truth; for you are too free from vanity or falsity of\nany kind, I know, ever to speak other than your earnest thoughts. I\nmay have scoffed at creeds; I have never scoffed at God; give me at\nleast this merit. I have dreamed a dream--we all do at some time, I\nbelieve; may yours be happy realizations always. Good-by.\"\n\nWith a sudden glare the firelight flashed upon the wall, and the\nred glow shone full upon her face, paler than usual, but calm.\nThere were tears in her eyes as they met mine; but what woman with a\nwoman's heart could be unmoved at such a moment?\n\n\"Good-by,\" she answered, almost inaudibly. I paused to hear no more;\nthe next moment the door closed behind me, and I was in the street.\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nI went abroad, through the principal cities of the old world, and by\nquiet ways to unpretending places, where travellers seldom go. My\nheart sought rest and quiet; my soul was beginning to shake off the\ntorpor that had enchained it; taking in, almost unconsciously, silent\ninfluences that pervaded my whole being. Truths forced themselves\nupon me unawares, and my ears did not refuse to hear them. Across\nthe wide Atlantic some one was praying for me, although I did not\nknow it while she prayed--one whose face I vainly strove to banish\nfrom my memory, whose voice ran through the current of my troubled\ndreams. And yet it was with no hope of winning her love in the future\nthat I opened my heart and mind to the study of sacred things. That\nidea never came to me. The whole purpose of my life seemed changed.\nHow often I thought of her denunciation of my aimless existence, my\n\"_dilettante_ tastes and careless ways.\" How often I thanked her\nthat, all unconsciously though it were, she had opened to me new\navenues of thought and action. \"Better to have loved and lost than\nnever to have loved at all,\" and so the work went on. Silently but\nsurely my heart unclosed to the heavenly dews that fell upon it and\nrenewed it. I remained some time in France and Italy, spent a few\nmonths in Germany, and then returned to England. At the feet of one\nof the fathers of the Oratory in London I made my first confession,\nand tasted the ineffable sweetness of divine compassion.\n\nNearly two years had passed, and the _dolce non far niente_ life, so\nnatural once, grew wearisome now. At home there was work for me to\ndo; there lay my field and my mission. I did not attempt to disguise\nfrom myself the pain and renewal of old wounds that must inevitably\nfollow my return. However, I resolved to nerve myself for the ordeal,\nand promised my timidity the struggle would be short, and then the\nworld lay before me. A world in which there were great things to be\nlearned and conquered.\n\nI had written to Armitage once after my departure, and received an\nimmediate answer, asking me to continue the correspondence. To his\nletter I had not replied, and I was almost entirely ignorant of\naffairs at home.\n\nI landed in New York one bright September day, and the first feeling\nof strangeness vanished as I walked through the crowded streets, and\nrecognized the familiar faces of former acquaintances. My whilom\nlandlady received me with open arms; my old quarters had just been\nvacated, and I was speedily reinstalled. I had not been in town\ntwo days, when Armitage rushed in one evening, glad to see me, and\nbrimful of news.\n\n\"Strange freak of yours that, Ed,\" he said. \"I came around here one\nnight by appointment; old lady met me with the information that you\nhad sailed that day. I couldn't believe it. Went to Helen's, to see\nif she knew any thing about it; but she didn't. Then I felt sure the\nwhole thing was a joke. You and she were such friends that I could\nnot think you'd have gone off in that way, without saying good-by.\nThat solitary letter of yours was worse than none at all; provoking\nin you to relapse into silence again, when a fellow thought he had\ngot on your track. How soon do you intend to be off again?\"\n\n\"Not for a while yet,\" I answered. \"I think I shall remain at home\nnow. By the way, how is Miss Foster?--or is she Miss Foster yet?--and\nher grandmother?\"\n\n\"The old lady died the winter after you left New York; but Helen is\nliving in the homestead yet. A married sister of mine is domiciled\nthere too, at present--Laura; you've heard me speak of her. She was\nliving in Baltimore when you were one of us. Helen is not married;\nnot for the want of suitors though; she has refused between ten and\nfifty splendid offers, to my certain knowledge.\"\n\n\"Of course she makes you her confidant?\" I said quizzingly.\n\n\"_Pas du tout_--a fine one I'd be; but I guess all these things. She\n_is_ an odd girl. Not too pious, although a devout Catholic, but hard\nto please. By the way, I am due at Helen's to-night; won't you come?\nYou can't expect her to call on you.\"\n\nI made some excuse; and Fred went off without me, promising, however,\nto report me \"safe and sound.\" Although I knew that, sooner or later,\nI should meet her, I could not face the ordeal as yet; and preferred\nthat, when it did take place, the meeting should be accidental.\n\nThe next week I attended a concert at the Academy of Music. Directly\nin front of me two seats remained unoccupied until the _prima donna_\nhad made her first bow to the audience, and was preluding her song\nwith a few prefatory trills.\n\nI turned my eyes from the stage to meet those of a lady who passed\nto one of the vacant chairs; and the next moment Fred Armitage was\nsaying, \"You here, Moray? I am glad we are near you. He has changed,\nNellie, don't you think?\" as his companion extended her hand in\nsilence. Then, as I greeted her, a single \"welcome home\" fell from\nher lips, and that was all.\n\nNo change in her. The same pure, truthful eyes; the old-time\nsweetness in her voice and smile; the old-time charm about her still.\nAs I looked at her, and heard her speak, I realized how vain had been\nthe delusion that prompted me to seek peace and disenchantment within\nthe sphere of her influence. Once, during a pause in the music, she\nasked my opinion of the singer. I must have appeared constrained and\nawkward; for I have a half recollection of muttering some indistinct\nanswer. I left before the performance was over. I did not care to\ncourt misery--my present situation was deplorable enough--and I was\nanxious to get away from Fred's pertinacity, which I knew would\nassert itself if we went in company from the music-hall.\n\nAfterward I steadily resisted all solicitations from Armitage to\ncall at his sister's; although he often expressed a desire to\nintroduce me. However, having met him one day in company with his\nbrother-in-law, I promised the latter gentleman to call at his\nresidence. Not to have done so would have made my conduct appear\neccentric and ridiculous. About dusk the next evening Fred came in.\n\n\"Come to Auvergne's with me to-night,\" he said. \"Walter has gone to\nBaltimore on business, and Helen with him. She intends spending the\nwinter with some relatives there. Laura is alone, and may be we could\ncheer her up. I am sorry Walter and Nellie are absent; but you'll get\nacquainted with the best little woman in the world.\"\n\nThere was no help for it. The present, too, afforded the best\nopportunity. I went, and received a cordial welcome from Mrs.\nAuvergne, who was all that her brother had described her, and more.\n\n\"So this is Mr. Moray,\" she said, as Fred introduced me. \"I have\nheard of you so frequently that I know you already. And Helen has\nsometimes mentioned you.\"\n\nThe evening passed pleasantly. As we were about leaving, our hostess\nwarmly invited me to renew the visit. \"Come soon, and as often as you\nlike,\" she said; \"we shall be always pleased to see you.\"\n\nInconsistently enough, I departed from my proposed line of conduct\nin so far as to accept her invitation. It was lonely sitting in my\nbachelor abode those long winter evenings; and, after five or six\nweeks' acquaintance, I had called so frequently at Mrs. Auvergne's as\nto feel more at home there than anywhere else in New York. I did not\nthink much of the future, of the difficulties that must arise when\nanother member of the family should resume her place in the circle;\nor, if I did, I was wise or foolish enough not to anticipate them.\n\nMeeting Mr. Auvergne near home one evening, he brought me _nolens\nvolens_ in to tea. We found his wife in the parlor, with her three\ncharming little girls, who had become great friends of mine, and who\nknew me under the title of \"Uncle Fred's brother.\"\n\n\"Something for you, Laura,\" said Paterfamilias, as he threw a letter\ninto her lap.\n\n\"From Helen, is it not?\"\n\n\"Yes; excuse me, Mr. Moray, while I glance over it. I always\ngive Helen's letters two or three readings. She is growing quite\ndissipated. 'I have been to three parties this week,' she writes;\n'much against my inclination, you will imagine. But Maud and Alice\nlead such gay lives that one is kept in a perpetual round of\nsight-seeing and enjoyment--as the world goes. I could never be\ncontent to live this way; and feel dubious as to whether I can find\nit compatible with real duties at home to remain the promised time.\nYou reproached me before I went away with being low-spirited, Laura.\nYour panacea has not proved beneficial. I am, if not melancholy, not\nhalf so cheerful in my mind, as Fred would say, as when I left you.\nSo don't be surprised to see me any morning about breakfast time.\nTell the children, Cousin Helen is glad they have found a new friend;\nbut\"--here the reader paused; and, after a hurried perusal of the\nremainder, replaced the missive in its envelope.\n\n\"Foolish Helen!\" she said, as though talking to herself; then, supper\nbeing announced, there was nothing more said on the subject.\n\nOn Christmas eve I called with some presents for the children. I\nhad promised them to enlist Santa Claus in their favor, and waited\nuntil I thought they would be asleep to bring what toys and trinkets\nthey had told me confidentially would be acceptable. Ushered into\nthe parlor, I did not at first perceive in the dim light that some\none was standing near the window. The noise of the door closing\ncaused the occupant of the room to look round, and, as she did so, I\nrecognized Miss Foster.\n\n\"Excuse me,\" I managed to articulate in my surprise; \"I did not know\nyou had returned, or that you were expected.\"\n\n\"I was not expected,\" she answered smilingly. \"But I grew homesick\nas Christmas approached, and astonished them all this morning at\ndaylight. Will you sit down, Mr. Moray?\" And she drew a chair forward.\n\n\"Thank you,\" I replied, \"not this evening. I have merely brought\nsome trifles for the little ones. We are great friends. I have become\nquite at home with them during your absence.\"\n\n\"So Laura tells me,\" she answered; \"and they have not been silent\neither. They are very lovable children.\"\n\n\"I have found them so,\" I rejoined. \"I suppose they are all three\ndreaming of Santa Claus at this moment. But I must be going. Be kind\nenough to present my compliments to Mrs. Auvergne, who is probably\nbusy this evening. And allow me to wish you a very merry Christmas.\"\n\nAs I ceased speaking, the parlor door opened and the mistress of the\nhouse entered, bonneted and shawled for a walk, and accompanied by\nFred, who announced himself a complete wreck from a frolic in the\nnursery.\n\n\"Good evening, Mr. Moray,\" said the little lady cordially. \"These\nfor the children? Thank you; you are very kind; they will be so\ndelighted. You see our wanderer has returned. Is she not looking\nwell? Sit down, you must not go yet. Rather late for a lady to go\nshopping, is it not? But I want something down-town, and Fred has\nvolunteered to accompany me. We shall not be absent long; you must\nstay till we return. You and Helen are old friends, I know, and can\nmanage to pass an hour pleasantly together.\"\n\nI fancied Helen looked at me imploringly, as though to say, \"Do go\naway,\" and I ventured to remonstrate.\n\n\"I am inexorable,\" was the reply. \"You are to remain till we come\nback. Fred, take his gloves; and Helen, ring for lights.\"\n\nThere was no withstanding such importunity. Reluctantly, but with as\ngood grace as I could summon, I allowed myself to succumb to the\nforce of circumstances. Seeing there was no help for it, my companion\nin distress took some fancy knitting from a table near her, and soon\nappeared lost in its intricacies. For fully five minutes after the\ndoor closed on Mrs. Auvergne and her brother we sat in embarrassing\nsilence--silence that at length grew unendurable.\n\n\"You are sitting too far from the fire,\" I said, by way of endeavor\nto mend matters; \"there must be some draught from that window too.\"\n\n\"I prefer being near the light,\" she answered, without looking up;\n\"and I am not at all cold.\"\n\nAnother five minutes of silence. What should I say next? Could I sit\nthere much longer? I did not think so. I felt as though I must make a\ndesperate move and take my leave.\n\nSuddenly, pealing out upon the silent night, I heard the sound of\nbells. She heard them too, I knew, for I saw her lift her head to\nlisten.\n\n\"The Christmas chimes,\" I said; \"how beautifully they sound. I have\nheard them in Rome and Naples; last year I was in England at this\nseason; but home music has charms peculiar to itself, and dearer than\nall other--at least so it seems to me.\"\n\n\"You believe in Christmas, then, as an institution?\" she answered\nsmilingly, and with a touch of the old sarcasm in her voice.\n\n\"Surely,\" I replied gravely, \"since I believe in Christ. Inasmuch as\na Catholic believes and reverences all that his church teaches and\nbelieves.\"\n\nI looked at her face to see what effect my words would have, but it\nevinced no emotion of surprise. She answered quietly and assuredly,\nas though our ways had never been separate,\n\n\"Yes, we who are Catholics enjoy the capacity of feeling and\nappreciating these things as none do beside. Especially converts such\nas you and I, who have known the experience of doubt and fear.\"\n\n\"I was not aware,\" I rejoined, \"that you knew of my conversion.\"\n\n\"No?\" she replied. \"I have known it some time, having seen you\nseveral times at Mass and Benediction. I do not believe you would\nmake the sign of the cross unless you held it to be the sign of\nsalvation. And you do make it, I think.\"\n\n\"No doubt the discovery surprised you, Miss Foster,\" I continued.\n\n\"No, it did not,\" she answered. \"I did not think the change would be\naccomplished so soon, but I hoped great things for you.\"\n\n\"Even when you accused me most bitterly?\" Why tread on dangerous\nground; but the words were spoken, and I could not recall them.\n\n\"Even when I accused you most bitterly,\" she said, in a low tone.\n\n\"You are far-sighted, I perceive. Perhaps you may also have some idea\nof the manner in which this change was brought about. Perhaps I may\nhave felt, may still feel, an indebtedness to some one, to whom it\nhas been a matter of doubt with me as to whether I should acknowledge\nthe obligation, or suffer it to go unpaid.\"\n\n\"I may have an idea,\" she replied, \"yet not just such a one as that\nto which you make allusion. Some one may have been instrumental in\nawakening thought on the subject. But I have not been able to advance\nthe idea further.\"\n\nFor a moment I sat silent. \"Shall I tell her what she has done for\nme?\" I asked myself; \"shall I open the old wound and let it bleed\nafresh? Will it be any sacrifice of my manliness if I tell her what a\nfew moments ago I held it my duty and purpose to conceal?\"\n\nI drew my gaze from the fire and directed it toward her. The ivory\nneedle flew in and out between her slender fingers; it seemed she had\na task to do. My resolve was taken. But there was not the shadow of\na hope in my soul when I spoke. Something impelled me--something, I\nknew not what; a desperate spirit, I thought it then; my good angel,\nI know now.\n\n\"There is a debt and an obligation,\" I began, \"and an acknowledgment\nwhich I am proud to make, although the fact of its existence be\nalmost death to me. A little more than two years ago, circumstances\nled to the revelation of that which but for those circumstances might\nhave been unrevealed to-day. I offered you a love that had grown\nin my heart until it interpenetrated every fibre of my being. You\nrejected it; and that you did so, or why, I find no fault or blame.\nThe folly was mine; I alone have borne the consequences. But while\nyou disabused my mind of any wild hope it might have cherished in\nmoments quite as wild, you told me some unpalatable truths. Until I\nmet you I had lived a selfish, useless life. After I met you, the\ngerms of something better in me stirred now and then, and impulses\nthat I more than once fought down knocked at secret doors where the\ndust and cobwebs of the world had gathered. Then the _d\u00e9nouement_\ncame, and after it the change in me.\"\n\nStill knitting, the soft wool flew through her fingers faster and\nfaster, as though she bade defiance to my moan. She did not look up\nas I paused, but her lips were compressed and her cheek brightly\nflushed.\n\n\"I went away loving you. Far away from your visible influence, the\nthought of you followed me through all my journeyings. I passed\nthrough new scenes and experiences loving you; I come back loving you\nstill. I am here to-night with no intent of pleading a lost cause,\nwith no hope of drifting from desolate seas into pleasant waters,\nwith no dream of Lethean draughts to be taken from your hands. As\nin the former instance, circumstances have forced it all upon me.\nTo-morrow I shall wonder at the folly which prompts me to say what\nI am saying. But to-night, before I close the book for ever, let me\nthank you for what you have done for me; let me leave you with the\nknowledge that, while I have been rash and presumptuous, I have not\noffended you or caused you pain.\"\n\nShe had risen from her chair while I was speaking. Standing for a\nmoment irresolute, with lips half parted and eyes downcast, she made\na passionate gesture with her clasped hands, as though impatient with\nherself.\n\n\"I do not forget,\" she said, \"any part of what I told you that night,\ntwo years ago. I was harsh--unnecessarily so. But it all came on\nme so suddenly that I hardly knew what I did say. I remember there\nwas something about misused talents and a wasted life, of what you\nmight be and were not, of great possibilities slighted and contemned.\nBut,\" here her voice faltered and the words came slowly, \"I do not\nremember telling you then or at any other time that I did not, could\nnot love you. Do you remember it?\" Looking up, her gaze met mine half\nsmilingly, half tearfully.\n\n\"No, I do not remember it,\" I said; \"but you sent me away from you,\nand I have not forgotten that there was nothing of encouragement\nfor the future in your dismissal of me. Can it be--dare I hope\nthat--that--?\"\n\nSomehow two warm, soft hands were clasped in mine, and the Christmas\nbells pealed out a tuneful chime, now softly low, now musically\nclear. And then she told me what I had never even fancied in my\ndreams: of the love that had dwelt in her heart of hearts so long;\nof fears that had assailed her when she grew conscious of it; of a\nhope in the future and its unborn possibilities that had filled her\nsoul when she seemed most indifferent and cold; of prayers that from\ntheir fervency had been heard and answered.\n\n\"I knew you would come back to me,\" she said; \"I knew that God would\ndo great things for you. And even if you had not come; if some one\nelse had taken my place, or some ambition occupied your heart, it\nwould have been the same in the end, or nearly so. I think I could be\ncontented to love you silently all my life long, if I knew you to be\nin thought and purpose what I had so longed to have you; if I felt\nthat my prayers for you were heard and answered.\"\n\nO wonderful unselfishness of woman's love! O marvellous constancy\nof woman's faith! How often do ye burn and die away unheeded and\nunprized on hollow altars!\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThree short bright years have passed, and it is Christmas eve.\nOutside I hear a group of merry boys, battling with the bitter wind\nand laughing at its fierceness. Frost glitters on the window-panes\nand chills the air to-night; and blazing fires roar up the chimneys,\npouring forth a welcome as they go. Here, in this quiet room, there\nis an atmosphere of peace and calm content that almost fills me with\na reverential fear lest the sweet spell should float away and leave\nme desolate.\n\nI can watch her all unnoticed as she sits in the deep shadow of the\nfirelight, the angel of my hearth and home. The face is perhaps a\nshade more thoughtful than of old; but the bright head, golden brown,\nhas still the same graceful poise and movement; the truthful eyes are\nstill as kind and tender as of yore.\n\nAnd as she sits there musing, I lay down my busy pen, and my full\nheart throbs with gratitude and thankfulness, as I think how lonely\nlife would be without her this happy Christmas Eve.\n\n\n\n\nMISCELLANY.\n\n\nTHE COUNCIL.--It is said that the Cardinals de Reisach and Cullen,\nand the Archbishops Manning and Spalding, have been appointed on\nthe commission for treating with those Protestants who may come\nto the council for that purpose. Bishops and priests speaking\ntwenty-eight different languages had applied to the cardinal vicar\nfor permission to say mass, and confessionals for confessors speaking\neighteen languages are provided in St. Peter's. The great variety of\ncomplexions and costumes now to be seen in Rome excites much remark\nin the letters of correspondents. The Archbishop of Lima, who is\nninety-four years of age, being unable to attend the council, has\nsent to the Pope a pastoral staff of gold valued at two thousand\npounds. The students of Quito University have sent him all their\ngold and silver medals of honor, and the President of the Republic\nof Ecuador has sent a jewelled medal given him by the state as an\nofficial decoration. An Italian priest, D. Mariano Matteini, has\nhimself designed and made a small bell for the Pope's use during the\ncouncil, which is a perfect gem of artistic ornamentation. It bears\nthe appropriate inscription,\n\n     Invocat\u00e2 Immaculat\u00e2, Pius Nonus pastor bonus, per concilium fert\n     auxilium. Mundus crebris tot tenebris, implicatus, obcoecatus, per\n     hoc Numen et hoc lumen, extricatur, illustratur.\n\nThe early date of going to press forbids our giving any notice of the\nsolemn opening of the council in the great Basilica of St. Peter,\nwhich will have taken place before this number is published. We hope\nto have constant and authentic communications respecting the council,\ndirectly from Rome, in our ensuing numbers.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nABJURATION OF THE PROTESTANT MINISTER OF CORDOVA.--Don Antonio Soler,\nan apostate priest, who has for the past nine years officiated as\nProtestant pastor at Cordova, in Spain, has publicly abjured his\nheresy in presence of the clergy, magistrates, and a large concourse\nof the people of the city.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nEASTERN AFFAIRS.--The _Civilta Cattolica_ gives a very interesting\naccount of a council of bishops of the Latin rite, in the East,\nheld at Smyrna last Pentecost. Mgr. Spaccapietra, Latin Archbishop\nof Smyrna, presided as apostolic delegate; three other archbishops,\nfive bishops, and a deputy from the Latin church at Constantinople\nwere present. The sessions were conducted with great splendor,\nand attended by vast crowds, both of Catholics and schismatics. A\ncouncil of the Catholic hierarchy of the Armenian rite was celebrated\nat the Armenian cathedral of St. Mary, in Constantinople, on the\nseventeenth of July. The patriarch presided, and eighteen bishops\nwere in attendance. On this occasion a large relic of St. Gregory\nthe Illuminator, presented by Pius IX., was brought to the church\nin procession, and there deposited. The splendid procession of the\nbishops, accompanied by a large body of the clergy, was escorted by\na detachment of Turkish soldiers, and witnessed by a vast concourse\nof people. Solemn mass was then celebrated by the patriarch, and the\ncouncil inaugurated. This was the most open and splendid display of\nthe Christian religion which has ever been made in Constantinople\nsince it came under Mohammedan rule. Since that time, the same\nchurch has witnessed a ceremony of equal if not greater splendor and\nsignificance, on the occasion of the visit of the Empress Eug\u00e9nie.\nAt the close of the high mass, at which the empress assisted in\nstate, she gave an illustrious example of that piety and Christian\nhumility so frequent among royal personages in former times, but\nnow so rare among the great. Rising from her throne to exchange the\ncustomary marks of respect and honor with the bishops who passed\nbefore her, when the patriarch bowed to her, and was about to move\non, she requested him to pause a moment; bending over, she kissed his\nring, and, descending from the dais of the throne, prostrated herself\nbefore him to receive his blessing. This was done in presence of her\nbrilliant suite of French and Turkish officers, and of the _\u00e9lite_ of\nthe Christians of Constantinople. We trust the example of the most\nillustrious lady of Christendom will not be lost on Christian women\nin a high social position throughout the world.\n\nIt appears from the Greek papers that Nilus, the so-called Patriarch\nof Alexandria, whose impertinent reply to the Pope's missive\nof summons to the council gave so much joy to our Episcopalian\nneighbors, was an intruder. This monk was for a time supported in\nhis position as designated successor to the actual patriarch, and\nadministrator, by the viceroy. Giving out that the patriarch was\nill, and had intrusted him with delegated powers, he kept him as\na prisoner in his palace. He was denounced by the Patriarch of\nConstantinople, and at length abandoned by the viceroy, and, as says\nthe _Byzantine Telegraph_, \"this vainglorious monk, not being able\nany longer to resist the popular outcry and contempt, abandoned by\nthe government and by his few friends, succeeded in escaping the\nanger of the people by leaving Egypt.\"\n\nA letter from the Patriarch of Constantinople to the Archbishop of\nCanterbury has been published, which is a masterpiece of Greek\nirony. With a profusion of compliments, he acknowledges the receipt\nof a copy of the acts of the Pan-Anglican Synod, and of the Anglican\nPrayer-Book, and then proceeds to condemn the latter as heretical\nand insulting to the Eastern Church in a manner which cannot be\nvery palatable to those who have sought to win from him a nod of\nrecognition.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nHINDOSTAN.--Every one who has read the accounts published in the\npapers of the new Hindoo sect, under the direction of Baboo Chunder\nSen, called the _Brahmo Somaj_, must have seen the great interest\nand importance of this movement. _The Dublin Review_ furnishes\nus with a great deal of valuable information about this matter,\nand the relation generally of Hindooism to Christianity in India,\naccompanied by most curious extracts from publications of the party\nof Chunder Sen, written in very nervous but peculiar English. It is\nsurprising to see with what force and keenness these educated Hindoos\npierce and destroy the inconsistent fabric of Protestantism, which\nthey call a system of \"paper revelation and second-hand religion,\"\nwhose untenable position is shown by the fact that it gives twenty\ndifferent interpretations of the same t book. We are most happy\nto learn that Bishop Meurer, S.J., the Vicar Apostolic of Bombay,\nis about to recommence the missionary enterprise of De Nobili, so\nshamefully and stupidly thwarted by the enemies of the Jesuits.\nHe intends to found a missionary college, whose pupils will be\nthoroughly instructed in Brahminical and Buddhist literature, and\nwhen they are sent out on missions, will enrol themselves in one\nof the high castes, adopting their dress and customs. In this way\nthe Catholic religion will be brought in contact with the educated\nHindoos, who at present know it only through the misrepresentations\nof Protestant missionaries.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nM. LECOINTRE ON THE PASSAGE OF THE RED SEA.--M. Lecointre, a graduate\nof the Polytechnic School and chief engineer of the iron works\nconnected with the Suez Canal, has investigated, with the assistance\nof M. de Lesseps, the question of the place where the Israelites\ncrossed the Red Sea, and publishes his conclusions in the _Etudes\nReligieuses_ of Paris, accompanied by a map. He gives, in the first\nplace, a _r\u00e9sum\u00e9_ of the events of the march out of Egypt. Pharaoh\nfeared an immense conspiracy under the leadership of Moses, and, as\nJosephus relates, formed an army of 250,000 men, which was assembled\nat Memphis. The events related in Exodus forced him to give the\ndenied permission to the Israelites to go into the wilderness to\nsacrifice. He well knew the real intention of Moses, which was no\nsecret, either, to the people themselves, to quit Egypt for ever.\nThe orders for preparing to celebrate the passover on the 14th of\nNisan had been given by Moses through the chiefs of tribes some\ndays before. These orders had the effect of arranging the people in\nlittle groups under a head, as the best organization for a sudden\nmarch; for which they were well prepared by a substantial meal and\nthe enlivening effect of a festivity. The signal of departure was\nprobably given by signal-fires previously arranged. The march to\nPalestine was not expected to occupy more than twenty or twenty-five\ndays, by a route well known and provided with water, and the flocks\nand herds which they took with them assured them a plentiful\nsubsistence. The main body left from Rameses, a city where a great\nproportion of them dwelt, the others starting from the other places\nof their residence and moving toward a common rendezvous. Their first\nhalting-place was Succoth, where they waited for those who were\nbehind to come up; the second at Etham, on the border of the desert,\nfrom whence they expected to go directly into the desert above the\nRed Sea, and to take a direct route for Palestine. But Moses changed\nhis route, brought them back along the coast of the Red Sea, and\nencamped in the plain of Pi-hahiroth, between Magdal and the sea,\nwhere they were surprised by Pharaoh's army in a situation which\nrendered flight in any direction impossible. The miraculous events\nwhich followed are well known. The point of passage is placed on\nthe twentieth parallel of latitude, which nearly bisects the larger\none of the Bitter Lakes, now separated from, but formerly forming a\npart of the Red Sea. The events related by Moses would then probably\nhave occurred as follows. On the night of the 15th, the nucleus of\nthe host made a short stage from Rameses to Succoth, waiting from the\nmorning of the 15th to the morning of the 16th for the entire host to\narrive. Distance travelled, five kilometres. Distance from Succoth\nto the most remote points of Gessen, where the Israelites lived,\nforty to fifty kilometres, easily travelled in twenty-four hours.\nMoses and Aaron could have made the journey from Memphis on the 15th\non horseback, a distance of one hundred and twelve kilometres, in\nten or twelve hours. On the 16th, from Succoth to Etham, twenty-two\nkilometres. On the 17th, from. Etham to Pi-hahiroth, twenty to\ntwenty-two kilometres. From the evening of the 17th to the evening\nof the 20th, encampment at Pi-hahiroth. The change of route at Etham\nis supposed to have alarmed the Egyptian commander at that post, who\nsends a courier on the morning of the 17th to Memphis, one hundred\nand twenty-four kilometres, a distance which could be passed in\ntwelve or fifteen hours by a swift horse or dromedary. On the 18th,\nthe army marches from Memphis in a straight line for Beelsephon, a\ndistance of one hundred and twelve kilometres. On the morning of the\n20th, the advance-guard of cavalry, after a march of forty-eight\nhours, arrives on the heights of Beelsephon, cutting off the retreat\nof the Israelites. A heavy fog separates the two armies. The Egyptian\ninfantry comes up on the 21st. During the night of the 20th, the\nIsraelites pass the Red Sea, whose width was from ten to twelve\nkilometres; they are followed by the cavalry and chariots on the\nmorning of the 21st, who traverse five or six kilometres, when they\nare overwhelmed by the returning waters, the main body witnessing the\ncatastrophe from the heights behind. The march from Memphis requires\nfor the cavalry two stages of fifty-six kilometres and for the\ninfantry three of thirty-eight, which the author says is within the\npower of fresh, well-equipped troops.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nREFORM MOVEMENT AMONG THE JEWS.--The recent convention of Jews at\nPhiladelphia appears to have been the work of a party bent on radical\nand destructive reforms. The orthodox and conservative Jews condemn\nit wholly. We should be very sorry to see the synagogue converted\ninto a poor imitation of the most radical Protestant sects, and\nthis ancient, wonderfully preserved nation blended with the mass of\nother peoples. The ancient and venerable observances of Judaism,\nand the continued distinct existence of the people descended from\nthe patriarchs, are a palpable, living witness to the divine origin\nof revelation, and the inspired truth of the writings of Moses\nand the prophets, the basis of Christianity. The reforming Jews\nare the successors of those who imitated the heathen in the reign\nof Antiochus and of the infidel Sadducees. Their approximation\nto Protestantism is not an approximation to Christianity but to\ninfidelity, and, if carried out successfully, would destroy their\nnation. This cannot be done, however. We believe firmly that\nthe nation is indestructible, is destined to be restored to the\npossession of Palestine, and to fulfil literally the predictions of\nthe ancient prophets in such a manner as to furnish the most splendid\nproof of the truth of the divine religion handed down through Sem,\nAbraham, Moses, the Prophets, to the Messiah to whom shall be the\nexpectation of nations. _Alieni non transibunt per Jerusalem amplius;\nnam in illa die stillabunt montes dulcedinem, et colles fluent lac\net mel, dicit Dominus._ It is the infidel party among the Jews of\nEurope that is leagued with infidels of Christian origin in the war\non the Catholic Church. Those who adhere strictly to their law have\nmany principles in common with Catholics. Their law of marriage with\nthose of their own nation exclusively harmonizes with that of the\nCatholic Church, which forbids intermarriage with them. Their genuine\nand ancient ritual bears witness to the antiquity of the liturgical\nand ceremonial idea embodied in Catholic worship. Their principle\nthat the education of the youth should be religious is identical with\nours, and we hope they will insist on the right of having separate\nschools and their just quota of the funds raised by taxation for\npurposes of education. So long as they remain in exile from their\nproper home, and separated from us in religion, we cannot desire any\nthing else than to see them adhere to their ancient customs. They\ndo not seek to proselyte; their prosperity is therefore in no way\ndangerous to the Catholic Church. The more splendid their synagogues\nand the observance of their traditional rites, the more brilliant is\nthe testimony they give to those facts and events in sacred history\ndenied by infidel Jews and infidel Christians alike.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTHE EDUCATION QUESTION.--_The New-Englander_, as the organ of the\nvenerable Yale University, has recently contained some admirable\narticles on the methods of promoting the higher education. It\nmakes war upon bogus universities, colleges, and systems with\ncalm but resolute force. Among the sound and sensible suggestions\nit makes, these are some of the chief ones: (1) The preparatory\nschools should be improved by a more thorough and extensive course\nof study in the classics, and in some of the modern languages.\n(2) The collegiate course should be correspondingly improved, and\nmodified, by imitating in part the tutor system of the English\nuniversities; but, by no means, changed into the loose system of\nmisnamed universities. (3) The university should be gradually formed\nas a sequence of the improved collegiate system, and should consist\nof the college proper, together with post-graduate courses of higher\nstudies in all the branches of science. The necessity of religious\ninstruction is unanswerably proved, and the especial fitness of\nclergymen for the work of education well defended and advocated. The\nnecessity of having every college under the religious care of some\none denomination is also satisfactorily shown. We wonder that the\nremarkably frank and candid writer in _The New-Englander_ does not\nsee, however, that he has proved this necessity as a _pis aller_, and\nindirectly furnished a terrible argument against his own sect and all\nProtestantism. He directly acknowledges that it is necessary to have\n_sectarian_ teachers; that, nevertheless, sectarianism is too narrow\na thing for a liberal university, and that the teachers must suppress\ntheir sectarianism and teach in a sort of catholic spirit. This is\nas clear a proof as we could wish to have that Protestantism is\nincompetent to the function of a religious teacher, and, therefore,\nthat a perfect university cannot exist except in the Catholic Church.\nWe hope, at all events, that the influence of New Haven will be\nthrown fully and consistently against godless schools of all sorts,\nand in favor of the right of parents to have schools where their\nchildren can be taught the religion which they themselves profess.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTHE CHRISTIAN WORLD ON THE REV. H. SEYMOUR.--This organ of the\nanti-Catholic crusade deserts Mr. Seymour and Mr. Bacon, in their\nattack on Catholic morality. The November number furnishes us with\nthe following editorial remark, the last clause of which we would\nespecially recommend to the attention of all our opponents, the\neditors of _The Christian World_ included: \"The interest awakened\nby the present discussion of this subject leads us to print the\nforegoing. There is much of force in Mr. Seymour's statements and\nreasonings respecting the matter of homicide, even though a double\nor treble percentage is allowed for Protestant England. But we\nare constrained to say, in the interest of fair dealing, that the\nremaining statistics of Mr. S. respecting illegitimacy seem to us\nto lack the precision and discrimination essential to a conclusive\nargument in that direction. Moreover, the force of these statistics\nis, to say the least, greatly counteracted by the admitted facts\nrespecting foeticide charged against certain Protestant communities.\nIn conducting the issue with Romanism it is wiser to avoid every\n_questionable_ position.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nDR. BELLOWS THREATENING CIVIL WAR.--_The Liberal Christian_ is\nproving itself the most illiberal of all our religious journals of\nlate. It recently violated literary courtesy by charging upon the\neditor of this magazine a deliberate falsehood, without any other\nreason than an unauthorized and incorrect conjecture that he was\nthe author of an article published in our columns entitled, \"Free\nReligion.\" In its issue for November 20th, it publishes a most\narrogant and inflammatory article, by Dr. Bellows, on \"Romanism\nand Common Schools,\" which is quite in the spirit of several other\nutterances of that gentleman, who appears to have contracted a taste\nfor civil war that was not satiated by our late one. Whoever seeks to\ndisturb the civic peace existing between Catholics and Protestants in\nthis country, to rouse their angry passions, to array them against\neach other as hostile political factions, is the greatest enemy of\nhis country, and deserves to be classed with the men who endeavored\nto fire our hotels, and those who stirred up the mobs of Charleston,\nPhiladelphia, and New-York. Happily, Dr. Bellows's fits of ill-humor\nare so well understood that they make but slight impression on any\none.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nCARICATURING AS A FINE ART.--One of our popular magazines\n(_Harper's_) has recently sought to distinguish itself in this line,\nand has succeeded both in its articles on Catholic questions, and\nin its burlesque illustrations, in producing something strictly\n_sui generis_ and far exceeding, in the strict exclusion of every\nother element except caricature, the feebler efforts of artists less\nskilled in the work of distortion. We may say without exaggeration\nthat it has attained the _ne plus ultra_ of caricaturing as a fine\nart.\n\n\n\n\nNEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n\n     THE OECUMENICAL COUNCIL AND THE INFALLIBILITY OF THE ROMAN\n     PONTIFF: A Pastoral Letter to the Clergy, etc. By Henry Edward,\n     Archbishop of Westminster. London: Longmans, Green & Co. Pp. 151.\n\nWe have received within the past two months five or six dissertations\non the question of the infallibility of the _ex cathedr\u00e2_ judgments\nof the sovereign pontiffs and other closely connected topics,\nwritten by some of the best theologians in Europe. They handle the\nsubject with great learning and ability, and in a manner much more\nsatisfactory and to the point than is usually found in treatises on\nthe same topic in our theological text-books or popular expositions\nof doctrine. The reason is, that the controversy has been revived\nand assumed a new importance since the indiction of the council, and\nthat the advocates of what is commonly called ultramontane doctrine\nhave applied themselves intently to seize hold of and minutely\nanalyze and refute the objections of the opposite party, who have\nthemselves endeavored to bring up anew all these objections with as\nmuch force as possible. Archbishop Manning has given us one of these\nlearned dissertations in the form of a pastoral letter, which makes a\nconsiderable pamphlet, divided into four chapters. The first chapter\nis on the effect of the council already felt in England and France.\nThe second is on the opportuneness of defining the infallibility of\nthe Roman pontiff, in which he discusses (1) The reasons against\nthe definition; (2) answers to these reasons; (3) reasons for the\ndefinition. In the third chapter he makes a concise but very copious\nexposition of the tradition on the subject, tracing it backward from\nthe Council of Constance to that of Chalcedon, and afterward giving\na history of the Gallican controversy since the time of the Council\nof Constance. The fourth chapter is on the effect which the council\nis certain to produce on the evidence and proposition of the faith,\nand on the relations of civil governments to the church. A postscript\nis added on the recent defence of Gallican doctrine by Mgr. Maret.\nThe most noteworthy and distinctive feature of this very learned and\nlucidly written document is, the manner in which the reasons why\nthe council should issue a clear and precise definition of the true\ndoctrine held by the church are presented. The illustrious archbishop\nargues with great force that an omission to make such a definition\nwill be interpreted as a tacit permission to hold and teach the\nGallican opinions as sound and safe probable opinions. There can be\nno doubt that his views and those of prelates in equally eminent\npositions who have publicly expressed themselves in equivalent\nterms will receive that grave consideration from the bishops of the\nCatholic Church in council which they merit. Undoubtedly, also, those\nwho may hold different opinions will have the most ample liberty\nof arguing their side of the question. The decision of the council\nmust be accepted by all as final and infallible; and if such a\ndecision is rendered, the controversy will be set at rest for ever; a\nconsummation, in our opinion, devoutly to be wished.\n\nWe will venture to add a few words of our own to the point of the\nargument presented by the Archbishop of Westminster. The ultramontane\ndoctrine has been almost universally held and taught in the Catholic\nChurch in the United States. Nevertheless, the manner of handling\nthe Protestant controversy in many English books, some of which are\ntranslations from French authors, has been such as to create an\nimpression that the doctrine of the infallibility of the pope in\ndefinitions of faith is merely a pious opinion. This is supported by\nthe fact that the opposite opinion has not been formally condemned,\nand that those who held it have been recognized as in full communion\nwith the Roman Church, and even raised to eminent positions in the\nhierarchy. This same impression has been created in other countries\nas well as in our own, and exists to a very great extent in the\nmind of the Catholic laity as well as to some extent in that of the\nclergy. The real facts in the case are not fully known. It is not\ngenerally known that those who have carried the Gallican opinions\nso far, and reduced them to practice in so consistent a manner, as\nto refuse implicit obedience and unreserved interior submission to\nthe pontifical decretals, or who have appealed from papal decisions\nto an oecumenical council, have been condemned under censure of\nexcommunication, that the whole church has given their assent to this\njudgment, and that it is a point of the canon law. The truth is, that\nthe holy see has always regarded the Gallican opinions as erroneous,\nalthough it has judged it wisest to tolerate them thus far, and to\nproceed by the way of instruction and inculcation in teaching the\nopposite doctrine, waiting until the complete discussion of the\nsubject by theologians and the pastoral teaching of the bishops\nshould have brought such a flood of light on the subject that the\ntruth should gain over the intelligence of enlightened Catholics,\nbefore pronouncing a formal and definitive judgment. There is a great\ndanger, however, that this cautious and indulgent treatment of those\nwho have held Gallican opinions in good faith and with a practical\nsubmission to the supreme authority of the holy see, may give an\nadvantage to bold and indocile spirits to make the toleration of\nthese opinions a _point d'appui_ for a resistance to the teaching of\nthe sovereign pontiffs _ex cathedr\u00e2_, having in it a schismatical\nand heretical tendency. The defenders and advocates of sound\ndoctrines are placed at a disadvantage by the lack of a definitive\njudgment declaring the sense of the church in such a manner as to\npreclude all dispute or ambiguity of interpretation. There can\nbe no question that the holy see, and the great body of bishops,\nincluding those of France with few exceptions, hold the doctrine of\nthe papal infallibility to be a certainly revealed truth contained\nin Scripture and tradition, and consequently regard the contrary\nopinion as an error which has only been for a time tolerated. The\nwhole action of the church is regulated by this view, and will always\nbe so regulated. There appears, therefore, to be a very strong reason\nwhy the present council should put the whole question at rest for\never by a final decision and a definition _de fide_. We can answer\nfor the clergy and laity of the United States that they will welcome\nsuch a decision with the greatest joy. As for the objection that it\nwill place an obstacle in the way of conversions, it is groundless.\nThose who are solidly converted from Protestantism in this country\nare converted to Catholicity pure and simple, and not to Catholicity\nwith a Gallican reservation.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE WOMAN WHO DARED. By Epes Sargent. Boston: Roberts Brothers.\n     1870. 18mo, pp. 210.\n\nWe have every disposition in the world to treat Mr. Epes Sargent with\nrespect, and to speak well of this his latest poem; for he has a name\nin the literary world, and his poem is not without some artistic\nmerit; but, unhappily, we can do neither with a good conscience.\nWe cannot tolerate false doctrines, mischievous sophistry, and bad\nmorals, because expressed in chaste language and attractive verse.\nMr. Sargent has poetic feeling and talent; but we do not accept\nthe doctrine that art is necessarily moral or religious. It may be\nused to embellish error as well as truth, vice as well as virtue,\nto corrupt as well as to purify and ennoble. In the poem before us\nthe poet has used all his art, genius, and talent to seduce his\nreaders to swallow as a wholesome Christian beverage a most poisonous\ncompound of spiritism, free-lovism, woman's-rightsism, rationalism,\nand all sorts of radicalism.\n\nNo doubt we shall be told that the poet is sincere, and that he\nreally believes that he is chanting a great truth, and laboring\nin downright earnest to develop and confirm a purer and higher\ncivilization than the world has ever yet known. It is not unlikely\nthat Eve thought as much when, seduced by the subtle reasonings and\nfalse promises of the serpent, she reached forth her hand, plucked\nand ate the forbidden fruit, and gave of the same to her husband; but\nthis did not excuse her for violating the command of God, or save her\nfrom expulsion from paradise. Men who have no infallible criterion of\ntruth and falsehood, no infallible standard of right and wrong, have\nno authority from God to teach, and no right to open their mouths\non any subject that seriously affects the interests or the conduct\nof life. No one, on the strength of his own personal conviction\nalone, has the right to arraign and condemn what the common sense\nand experience of mankind in all ages and nations have sanctioned.\nIt is no justification, no valid excuse even, for a man who\npromulgates and does his best to get accepted false and mischievous\ndoctrines--doctrines which weaken the hold of religion on the\nconscience, pervert the moral sense, render the family impossible,\nand sap the very foundation of society--to say, \"I am sincere; I\nreally believe I am laboring for a true and much needed reform.\" Do\nyou _know_ it? Do you not know that you do _not_ know it? Do you not\nknow that all the presumptions are against you? Uncertain as you\nare and must be if you ever think, why attempt to teach at all? Who\ncompels you? Men are accountable for the thoughts and intents of the\nheart no less than for outward acts, and God will bring every man\ninto judgment for every thought and word as well as for every deed.\nEvery man is bound to conform his thoughts, words, and deeds to the\nlaw of God, and to use with all diligence his faculties to ascertain\nthat law and what it enjoins. Invincible ignorance excuses from sin,\nit is true, one in that whereof one is invincibly ignorant; but an\nignorance that may be overcome by due diligence and the proper use\nof the means within one's reach, is not invincible, but vincible,\nand therefore no excuse. The man or the woman that can seriously\nentertain the doctrine and morals of Mr. Sargent's poem cannot plead\ninvincible ignorance; but must be under a delusion never possible in\nthe case of the pure in heart, or to any but those who take pleasure\nin iniquity.\n\nWe have no intention of reopening the discussion of the woman\nquestion, or that of spiritists and spiritism; the questions of\ndivorce and free religion have also been amply discussed, at least\nfor the present, in this magazine. We can touch here only on two\nquestions raised by the author--that of free-love and that of the\nright and propriety of female wooing. The aim of the author has\nbeen to defend the woman who dared woo openly and in plain words\nthe man she wished to be her husband and the father of her child.\nHe contends, in the smoothest and most seductive blank-verse he\nis master of, that this is proper, and woman's right; and that\nit is only the tyranny of a barbarous custom, created by male\npredominance, that requires the woman to wait till she is sought.\nLinda Percival, the bastard daughter of a bigamist, is for him the\nmodel woman. She dares break through this custom and proposes to\na very respectable young gentleman; but gets at first the mitten,\nand succeeds finally only by buying him up for a hundred thousand\ndollars in hard cash, paid down to his swindled and bankrupt father.\nYet Linda is a combination of incompatible qualities, an impossible\nwoman, a monster in nature, and her conduct is no precedent for the\nsex. She is a man-woman, and the last in the world that a real man\ncould love or marry. The woman who does not instinctively shrink\nfrom soliciting a man to marry her could appreciate no argument that\nwould prove its impropriety or the gross immorality that would result\nfrom the practice, were it once held reputable. Mr. Sargent knows\nwell enough, without our telling him, that nature has made woman\nstrong for defence, but weak when acting on the offensive. When she\nsolicits a man to be her husband and \"the father of her child,\" she\nsteps out from her strong fortress of modesty and reserve, throws\noff her defensive armor, and places herself at his mercy. Resistance\nafterward avails nothing. She has surrendered at discretion. No\ntraining on either side can protect her virtue, secure her respect,\nor belief in the purity of her intentions; for no education or\ntraining can reverse nature. The practice, if adopted and become\ngeneral, would degrade woman to the lowest level, put an end to\nmarriage, extinguish the family, and with it society and the race.\n\nMr. Sargent, whether he intends it or not, advocates free-love as\nhe does free religion. Love, he says, must be free, and bound by\nno chain but its own silken cords. The least constraint kills it.\nThe marriage is all in the mutual love; and when that leaves, the\nmarriage is dissolved. To compel a couple who do not mutually love\nto come together, or, after the love is dead, to live together, as\nhusband and wife--we beg pardon, as wife and husband--is downright\ntyranny, outrageous cruelty. This is the cant of nearly all female\nand much of male popular literature, which relies for its tragic\ninterest on the obstacles thrown in the way of true love by an\nimperious mother, a despotic father, a hard-hearted old uncle,\nbarbarous custom, or cruel and tyrannous marriage laws. This\nliterature, the only literature except newspapers this restless,\nbusy age reads, has already corrupted modern society, made away\nwith parental authority, obliterated the love and reverence of\nchildren for their parents, and rendered a happy household well-nigh\nimpossible.\n\nThis popular doctrine mistakes the love marriage demands as well\nas the nature and end of marriage itself. The love it extols is at\nbest only a romantic sentiment, which in its own nature, like all\nsentiments, is capricious and evanescent. It can give no security to\nmarriage, for it can neither control the senses nor be controlled\nby reason. Suppose it as pure and as lofty as that of the fabled\nknight of chivalry for his \"ladie fair,\" to whom he devotes his\nsword and worships as a distant star pure and serene in the heavens\nabove him, it cannot survive possession, and never does and never\ncan exist between husband and wife. The reason why love matches are\nso seldom happy is, that they are formed with the expectation that\nthe chivalric and romantic love of the lovers will survive in the\nspouses. But this is never the case, and never should be; for it is\nincompatible with the duties of life. The love that makes marriage\nblessed and is its true basis must indeed be free from coercion;\nbut, while unconstrained by power or external force, it must be\nconstrained by duty and subject to laws. It must be a love that it\ndepends on one's own will to give or to withhold.\n\nMarriage requires the free assent of the parties; and when that free\nassent is refused by either party, there is no marriage, and we are\naware of no law of church or state that treats it as a marriage,\nat least of any professedly Christian state. That the assent, when\nonce given by the parties competent and free to give or withhold\nit, should be held to be irrevocable, is no hardship. The parties\nunderstand and intend--nay, desire--the contract in forming it to be\nduring their natural life, or so long as both continue to live. The\nnature of the contract, the purposes for which it is entered into,\nrequire that it should be indissoluble, save by death only; and this,\ntoo, even without taking into the account its sacramental character.\nIn extreme cases the law does not oblige the parties to live\ntogether, and grants a divorce _a mensa et toro_; but the Christian\nlaw allows never a divorce _a vinculo_; for the end of marriage is\nnot primarily nor chiefly the happiness of the husband and wife,\nbut the preservation of purity, the founding of the family, and the\nrearing and training of children, on which depend the continuance\nof the race and the existence of society. Even if the sentimental\nlove be wanting, with good-will on each side and a diligent study of\neach to perform the duties of their state, which it depends on each\nto have and to do, and which neither is free to neglect, the little\nrepugnances and incompatibilities of temper may be easily got over,\na solid friendship spring up, and much genuine happiness after all\nbe enjoyed. There may not be much romance; but romance and romantic\nlove end always with marriage, and never survive, and ought not to be\nexpected to survive, the \"honeymoon.\" But happily, what is better\nfor this work-day world, duty may take its place.\n\nMr. Sargent is mistaken in saying in his notes that the church does\nnot regard marriage between Protestants as indissoluble. The case he\ncites is not in point; for the marriage he supposes was dissolved\nwas no valid marriage in Brazil, in consequence of the _disparitas\ncultus_, which, where the discipline of the Council of Trent is in\nforce, is an _impedimentum dirimens_. So also is he mistaken in\nhis assertion that \"up to the time of Charlemagne ... concubinage\nand polygamy were common among Christians, and countenanced by the\nchurch.\" The church has never countenanced either; and if either has\never been practised by Christians, it has been only in violation\nof her express laws. In point of fact, at no time has either been\ncommon; but some of the Merovingian kings wished to continue, after\nprofessing to be Christians, the old practice by the pagan German\nprinces and higher nobles of polygamy, and the church, no doubt, had\ngreat difficulty in forcing them to conform to the Christian law.\nBut it, as concubinage, was in the eyes of the church always illicit\nand sinful. On this subject the law or discipline of the church has\nnever changed. The poet is not well qualified to speak of Catholic or\nChristian subjects.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE PASTOR AND HIS PEOPLE; OR, THE WORD OF GOD AND THE FLOCK OF\n     CHRIST. By Rev. Thomas J. Potter. Dublin: James Duffy. New-York:\n     Catholic Publication Society. 1869. Pp. 337.\n\nFather Potter has written this volume to give pastors some practical\nhints in regard to the instruction of their people. The book is\nreally the second volume of a work published some years since, under\nthe title of _Sacred Eloquence; or, The Theory and Practice of\nPreaching_. That work set forth the great theoretical principles of\npulpit oratory; this volume reduces those principles to practice.\n\nThe contents of the volume are arranged under three general heads:\nHoliday Preaching, Familiar Instruction, and Delivery. In the first\nof these divisions we find minute instruction concerning the material\nthat should be used in what is known as the \"set sermon.\" Not merely\nfor sermons that are preached on holidays though, but for every\noccasion on which a formal discourse is suitable. A chapter in this\nportion of the work is well devoted to a defence of these elaborate\nsermons. Not that such preaching will be the most useful or the\nmost expedient, as a general rule; but simply this, that there are\noccasions on which the faithful have a right to expect a carefully\nprepared sermon. These are called set sermons, because they are\ncomposed in conformity with the fixed rules of oratory. They suppose\na chaste and elevated style; and, more than this, they suppose even\nthat the subject should be treated grandly. At such a time the\npreacher, by the dignity of his manner, forces us to recognize him\nas truly the \"ambassador of Christ.\" We feel that the divine word\nis treated, as it deserves to be, with the same respect as the body\nof Christ. But it is true that sermons such as these can only be\npreached on rare occasions, because they are expected to accomplish\nextraordinary results. Their frequent repetition would destroy the\nvery effect that they are intended to produce. The people, habituated\nto these stirring appeals, would cease to be moved by them, until at\nlength it would be impossible to rouse them even by the most fervent\nand skilfully planned discourse.\n\nFather Potter does not give too prominent a place to this elevated\nand polished form of preaching. By far the largest portion of\nhis work is taken up with the most valuable hints regarding the\nfamiliar instruction of our people. He tells us that it has been\n\"his unvarying purpose to throw out substantial ideas, to suggest\nleading thoughts, and to indicate lines of study.\" Nowhere is this\nobject accomplished more completely than in the section of the work\nwhich explains the nature and excellence of \"Familiar Instruction.\"\nNo part of the book has pleased us more than this. Simple, clear,\nsuggestive, and practical in its suggestions, the zealous pastor\nwill scarcely rise from reading the chapters on the Homily, on the\nCommandments, on the Sacrament, and on Prayer, without feeling a\nrenewed desire to teach these elementary though essential truths\nwhich the Catholic people of a missionary country do not know, or at\nleast only know in an extremely vague and indefinite way.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE ILLUSTRATED CATHOLIC FAMILY ALMANAC FOR THE UNITED STATES FOR\n     THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 1870. New York: The Catholic Publication\n     Society, 126 Nassau St. 1869.\n\nAn almanac for the family has long been an imperious American\nnecessity. Judging from the success of the Catholic Publication\nSociety's Almanac for the year now drawing to an end, a Catholic\nalmanac was much needed and greatly desired by our Catholic\npopulation throughout the United States, and that it should have\nmet with a large sale was not surprising when we remember that, in\naddition to all the useful information furnished by all well-prepared\nalmanacs, _The Catholic Family Almanac_ provided agreeable, edifying,\nand instructive literary matter profusely and admirably illustrated\nwith superior engravings.\n\nIn size, amount of matter, illustrations, and literary merit, the\nCatholic Almanac for 1870, just published, is a decided improvement\nupon its predecessor, and must receive universal approbation.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE LIFE OF CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. From authentic Spanish and\n     Italian Documents. Compiled from the French of Rosselly de\n     Lorgnes. By I. I. Barry, M.D. Boston: P. Donahoe. 1869.\n\nThe translator or compiler of this work states in his preface that\nhe has had to condense the matter of some pages into almost as many\nlines. We feel compelled to add that neither history nor literature\nwould have suffered if he had gone on condensing indefinitely, even\nif, in the process, the book had been compressed to the vanishing\npoint. Rosselly de Lorgnes, a veteran writer, the author of _Le\nChrist devant le Si\u00e8cle_, and other works well known in Europe, is\nentitled to all respect and honor for his sincere and enthusiastic\nvindication of the memory of Columbus, and of his claims to\nveneration as a man of saintly character, over and above all his\nother well-known merits; but his work, in two volumes of nearly six\nhundred pages each, independently of other objections to it, sadly\nwants brevity and method.\n\nThe truth is that, notwithstanding the praiseworthy efforts of M.\nDe Lorgnes, and of various authors who have preceded and followed\nhim in this field, the life of Columbus is yet to be written. More\nthan that, it can only be well written in Spain and with Spanish\nmaterials. When that country has a historian who is not afraid of\ntelling the truth about the king of Spain who was the husband of the\nnoble Isabella of Castile, and will use without fear or favor the\nwritings of Columbus himself--for, after all, such a great soul is\nhis own best interpreter--we shall have a life of Columbus, and not\nuntil then.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE IMPROVISATORE. THE TWO BARONESSES. Romances by Hans Christian\n     Andersen. New York: Hurd & Houghton.\n\nThese two volumes, from the fascinating pen of the great Danish\nnovelist, we recognize as old friends in new garments, and hasten to\nbid them welcome.\n\nAndersen, who charms the little ones with the beauty and naturalness\nof his fairy tales, is equally a favorite with children of a larger\ngrowth.\n\nHis powers of description are surpassed by few writers in any\nlanguage, and the places he has visited, Rome, Naples, Vesuvius,\nVenice, Copenhagen, with the islands nestling about Denmark, stand\nbefore the reader in living colors, glowing with light and truth.\nOne feels that these graphic representations are not drawn from a\nhighly-wrought imagination, but that they are living realities.\nThe narratives of the ascent of Vesuvius, the _Infiorata_, the\nfirst impressions of Venice, are wonderful samples of this power of\ndelineation.\n\nHigh-toned morals and an utter freedom from maudlin sentimentality\nmark both these volumes; the tales are told with vigor, and the\ninterest sustained to the end.\n\nThe _Improvisatore_, who is born and passes most of his years in\nItaly, tells his own story, and claims, as do most of the characters\nintroduced, to belong to the Catholic Church; but we think a true\nCatholic would detect the fact that the kind-hearted, genial man\nwho wrote the tale had not the happiness of being in the faith:\nthough there is nothing harsh or unkind, or perhaps no intentional\ninjustice, toward the church, yet there is here and there the slight\ntouch of sarcasm concerning what the writer supposes to be a dogma of\nthe faith, or a hit at some local Catholic custom, which would not\nhave come from the pen of a loyal son of our holy Mother.\n\nThe scene of _The Two Baronesses_ is laid in Denmark, and though not\nso captivating as the _Improvisatore_, the tale is well told, and\nhangs on the lovely motto \"that there is an invisible thread in every\nperson's life which shows that it belongs to God.\"\n\nThe binding of these volumes is in excellent taste, and the print\nclear, doing credit to the Riverside press.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE STORIES AND PARABLES OF PERE BONAVENTURE. New York: P. O'Shea.\n     1869.\n\nThese stories and parables commend themselves to the reader by their\nquaintness and brevity. The excellent moral which forms the essential\npart of many of them could hardly be presented in a more pleasing\nmanner. The explanations given by the author are, in general,\nsatisfactory. This book should be in in every Catholic household in\nthe country.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THROUGH NIGHT TO LIGHT: A Novel. By Friedrich Spielhagen. New\n     York: Leypoldt & Holt.\n\nWere one of our first American novelists to put forth such a story\nas the above, it would be hissed by the voice of public opinion; but\nit seems we may receive from the German, and call poetic, ideal, and\n_spirituelle_, what would be considered coarse and immoral even in a\npenny journal.\n\nWe will give a specimen of the author's philosophy. Speaking of a\nmarried woman who had been in more cases than one unfaithful to her\nmarriage relations, the author says,\n\n     \"Have you not paid the penalty of the wrong, if wrong it was to\n     follow the impulse of a free heart? Is it reasonable to sacrifice\n     the wife to a rigorous moral law which the husband does not\n     consider binding? Who has made that unwise law? Not I, not you.\"\n     (He might have added _only_ Almighty God.) \"Why, then, should you\n     obey it? I tell you the day of freedom which is now dawning will\n     blow all such self-imposed laws to the winds, and with them all\n     the ordinances devised by a dark, monkish disposition to fetter\n     nature and torment hearts.\"\n\nTo the corrupting influence of this style of literature we owe such\nscenes as the one which recently in this city shocked the public\nmind. The title of this book is a misnomer. It should be, not\n_Through Night to Light_, but _Through Light to Night_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE TWO COTTAGES. Showing how many more families may be\n     comfortable and happy than are so. Baltimore: Kelly, Piet & Co.\n     1870.\n\nOf this simple story of humble life we cannot speak too highly. It is\nas valuable for its suggestions as it is truthful in its delineations.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     MARY AND MI-KA: A TALE OF THE HOLY CHILDHOOD. With an account of\n     the Institution. Boston: Patrick Donahoe. 1870.\n\nThis little volume, dedicated to the members of the Holy Childhood\nin the United States, will, no doubt, give increased publicity to\nthat most admirable institution, and hence increase materially its\nsphere of usefulness. Full details of its aim, origin, and progress\nare given in the appendix, to which we would particularly direct\nattention.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE LOST ROSARY; OR, OUR IRISH GIRLS: THEIR TRIALS, TEMPTATIONS,\n     AND TRIUMPHS. By Con O'Leary. Boston: Patrick Donahoe. 1870.\n\nThe title of this volume is somewhat suggestive of its contents.\nIn it the author graphically describes the various dangers and\ntemptations to which the recently-arrived female emigrant is exposed,\nand also pays a well-merited tribute to the many virtues that\ndistinguish the vast majority of Irish girls in America; virtues\nto which, in the face of many troubles and vexations, they have so\nheroically adhered.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE LIFE OF BLESSED MARGARET MARY, (Alacoque.) With some Account\n     of the Devotion to the Sacred Heart. By the Rev. George Tickell,\n     S.J. London: Burns & Co. (For sale by the Catholic Publication\n     Society.)\n\nThis life of a remarkable person, the chief instrument of\nestablishing that devotion to the Sacred Heart so dear to all devout\nCatholics, which was one of the most efficacious weapons against\nthe odious heresy of Jansenism, is much superior to any heretofore\npublished. We are glad to see certain extravagant statements\nconcerning the treatment of the saint in the convents of her order,\nwhich were discreditable to them and likely to give scandal, entirely\ndiscredited by the author of the present life. He is not only a\ncopious and devout biographer; but what is equally important and less\nfrequent, a judicious one. The book is published in elegant style,\nand we cordially recommend it to all our readers.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\nVOL. X., No. 59.--FEBRUARY, 1870.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FUTURE OF PROTESTANTISM AND CATHOLICITY.[144]\n\nSECOND ARTICLE.\n\n\nThe Abb\u00e9 Martin divides his treatise into nine books, each of which\nhe subdivides into several chapters. In the first book he labors to\nprove that Protestantism is imperishable; in the second, he discusses\nthe Protestant revival and its effects; in the third, he treats of\nthe Protestant propaganda, or Protestant missions and their results;\nin the fourth, of the wealth and well-being of Protestant as compared\nwith Catholic nations; in the fifth, of Catholic and Protestant\ntolerance and intolerance; in the sixth, of liberty and its influence\non the future of Protestantism; in the seventh, of religious liberty\nin its relations with Protestantism; in the eighth, of the decline\nof Catholic nations and governments, and the progressive march of\nProtestant nations and governments; and in the ninth and last, of\nthe union or alliance of Protestantism with the revolution, or the\nrevolutionary spirit so active in nearly all modern society.\n\nIn our former article we reviewed the subjects treated in the first,\nsecond, and part of the third books, and reserved for our present\narticle two of the three causes the author assigns for the partial\nsuccess of Protestant missions in old Catholic nations, namely, the\n_prestige_ which Protestant nations enjoy of surpassing Catholic\nnations in wealth and well-being, and of having founded and sustained\ncivil and religious liberty. But these two causes, though treated\nby the author in his third book, really embrace the subject of the\nremaining six books. We cannot say that the author has so digested\nand arranged his ample materials as to avoid repetitions, or so as to\nbring all that belongs to the same topic under one head; but treats\nit partly under one head and partly under another. A glance at the\ntitles of the last six books will satisfy the reader as well as the\nreviewer, that the subjects treated fall under two general heads.\nFirst, civil and religious liberty; second, the comparative wealth\nand well-being of Catholic and Protestant nations; and under these\ntwo heads we shall arrange our summary of the views of the author,\nand our own comments. We begin with the last.\n\nI. The author assigns, as we have seen, as one of the causes of\nthe success of Protestant missions in old Catholic nations, the\n_prestige_ which Protestant nations enjoy of surpassing Catholic\nnations in material wealth and well-being. That this _prestige_\nattaches to Protestant nations is a fact not to be disputed; but\nis it well founded? The author seems to concede that it is, and\nmaintains that \"there is in Protestant nations and Protestant\nindividuals a superior aptitude and a greater eagerness and tenacity\nin the pursuit and acquisition of the goods of this world\" than there\nis in Catholic nations and individuals.\n\n     \"Place,\" he says, \"Catholics and Protestants side by side on the\n     same territory, in conditions perfectly equal, and leave each\n     to act under the influence of their respective principles, and\n     not a half-century will elapse before the Protestants will have\n     taken in the material order a marked superiority. The Protestants\n     will have the finest vineyards, the best cultivated fields, the\n     greenest meadows, the most elegant mansions, and the freshest\n     shade. They will have almost the monopoly of industry, commerce,\n     large capital, the bourse, the bank, money at interest, and own\n     all the mills and factories, if any there are. If you doubt it,\n     consult Alsace and Strasburg, Nimes, Montpellier, the environs of\n     Bourdeaux, the mixed Swiss cantons, and the conquests the American\n     Union has made of the Spaniards of Mexico.... Wherever Protestants\n     plant themselves, they are able to attain a preponderating\n     influence in all civil affairs. With only a fourth of the\n     population they will hold three fourths of the public offices,\n     have the majority in the municipal council, the mayor of the\n     commune, if not the adjunct, the highest grades in the national\n     guard, the member of the conseil-g\u00e9n\u00e9ral, the deputy, sometimes\n     the senator, and the most widely circulating journal of the\n     district, daily filled with eulogiums on their merit.\n\n     \"It is the same on a large scale among nations. Who knows not that\n     there are more wealth, more well-being, more comfort, eleganter\n     houses, softer couches, more sugar and coffee, in England,\n     Scotland, Holland, Prussia, at Zurich, Berne, Geneva, New York,\n     than in Spain, Portugal, Austria, at Rome or Rio Janeiro?\n\n     \"It would seem that there is a sort of _pre\u00ebstablished harmony_\n     between Protestantism and the earth, that they know and attract\n     each other. Where the earth is most smiling and wears the richest\n     decorations, it naturally becomes Protestant. In Switzerland, the\n     richest and most fertile districts are Protestant, the rugged and\n     barren are Catholic. The former, with their facile enjoyments,\n     seem to invite to very forgetfulness of heaven; the latter only\n     to raise and fix the affections above the earth, and can be made\n     or become Protestant possessions only by force or violence.\" (Pp.\n     186-188.)\n\nWe are not prepared to make quite so large concessions. Protestants\ndo not monopolize all the pleasant, rich, and fertile spots of the\nearth. The fact may be true of Switzerland, but it is not true of\nthe Italian peninsula nor of the Iberian, in which are the richest\nand most fertile districts of Europe; nor, in point of climate,\nsoil, and productions, does Protestant Germany surpass Catholic\nGermany. The _pre\u00ebstablished harmony_ alleged has no foundation in\nfact, and we have heard the contrary more than once maintained by\nwell-informed Catholic prelates. Nor are we prepared to concede\nthat, if you speak of the whole population, there is more comfort\nand well-being in Protestant than in Catholic nations. The peasantry\nof Italy, before the late political changes, had as much comfort and\nwell-being as the peasantry of Denmark, Sweden, or Norway, or even\nGreat Britain and Holland, and the peasantry of Austria proper are\nin the same respects better off than those of Prussia or Hanover.\nIn no countries in the world is there to be found such squalid\nwretchedness as in those under the British crown, and governed by\nthe head of the Protestant church. There may be more wealth in\nGreat Britain than in France, but there is also more and far deeper\npoverty. France, by a war with all Europe, was prostrated in 1815;\nher capital was held by foreign invaders, and she was forced to pay\nmillions by way of indemnification to the invaders, and to support\nan allied army cantoned on her territory to compel her to keep the\npeace; and yet she met her extraordinary expenses, greatly reduced\nher national debt, reasserted her freedom of action and her position\nas a great European power, and extended her territory by the conquest\nof Algiers, in less than fifteen years, under the restoration and\nunder a Catholic government. No nation under a Protestant government\ncan be named that has ever carried so heavy a burden so easily, or\ndone so much in so short a time to lighten it. We have seen nothing\nlike it in England, the model Protestant nation. Since 1830, France\nhas ceased to be a Catholic nation, under a Catholic government, and\nhas to a great extent adopted the British industrial and commercial\nsystem. She has shown nothing since of that marvellous recuperative\nenergy she showed under the Bourbons. She is burdened now with\na constantly increasing national debt, her people are taxed for\nnational and municipal expenses to the last cent they can bear, and\nthere can be no doubt that she is relatively poorer and weaker to-day\nthan she was during the last years of the Restoration.\n\nOur experience in this country does not warrant the concessions\nof the author. Placed side by side and in equal conditions with\nProtestants, Catholics have shown themselves in no sense inferior\nto Protestants in their aptitude to get on in the world. Their\nprogress here in wealth, in comfort, and ease has been relatively\ngreater than that of the older Protestant population; for they\nstarted from an inferior worldly position, and with far inferior\nmeans. To be convinced of it, we need but look at the schools and\ncolleges they have founded, at the costly and splendid churches they\nhave erected, and at the large sums they have contributed for the\nsupport of Catholic charities and their friends in Ireland and other\ncountries, from which the majority of them have emigrated. With an\nintense Protestant prejudice against them, they have, in a very few\nyears, risen in the social scale, gained a respectable standing in\nthe American community, carried away the first prizes in law and\nmedicine, and secured their full share of public offices both civil\nand military.\n\nThe United States have proved themselves too powerful for the\nMexicans, we concede, and they well might do so, with vastly greater\nresources and a population three times as large. The Mexicans\nare only about one in nine of pure Spanish blood; the rest are\npure-blooded Indians, or a mixed race of whites and Indians, and\nof Indians and negroes. Yet if our officers who served in the\nMexican war may be believed, braver, hardier, more enduring or\nenergetic soldiers than the Mexicans cannot easily be found. The\nfeebleness of Mexico is not due to her Catholicity, but to her lack\nof it; to her mad attempts to establish and maintain a republican\nform of government, for which her previous training, manners, and\nhabits wholly unfitted her. Had she, on gaining her independence\nof Spain, established monarchical institutions, and not been\ninfluenced by our example and intrigues, and the insane theories\nof European revolutionists, she would not have fallen below her\nnon-Catholic neighbor. No Protestant people surpass in bravery,\nboldness, enterprise, energy, national or individual, the Spaniards\nof the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, and they were far better\nCatholics then than they or Spanish-Americans are now.\n\nThere is an important fact too often lost sight of in discussing the\nalleged superior aptitude of Protestants in relation to this world.\nWe find nowhere braver soldiers, bolder sailors, more enterprising\nmerchants, or more ingenious workmen than were the Venetians, the\nGenoese, the Florentines, and the Portuguese when in their best\nestate. A Portuguese sailor opened the way by the Cape of Good Hope\nto India; a Genoese discovered this western continent, which bears an\nItalian name; an Italian, also, was the discoverer of this northern\nhalf of the American continent; and it was a Catholic sovereign who\naided the Anglo-American colonies to assert their independence. Yet\nPortugal, Venice, Genoa, Florence, when they were greatest, were\nCatholic, and their decline in later times is not owing to their\nCatholicity; for they were Catholic all the time that they were\nrising from their feeble beginnings, and at the period of their\ngreatest power and splendor, more bigotedly so, as our liberals would\nsay, than they are now; and what did not hinder their rise and growth\ncould not be the cause of their decline. They have declined through\nother causes, and causes well known to the student of the rise and\nfall of nations.\n\nIt is, no doubt, true that in France, Belgium, and Italy, and\nperhaps in other old Catholic states, Catholics, even where they\nare the immense majority, permit the public offices to be filled,\nand themselves to be ruled by Protestants, Jews, infidels, and such\nsecularized Catholics as hold the state should govern the church; and\nwe have often felt not a little indignant to find it so; but modern\nsociety in all Catholic states recedes from the old aristocratic\nconstitution of Europe, and tends to democracy; and democracy, as\nour American experience proves, elevates to power not the best men in\nthe community, but often the worst, the least scrupulous, the most\nintriguing, selfish, and ambitious. The fact may also be explained\nby the false political education which the Catholic populations\nhave received. Under Gallicanism they are not instructed to regard\nCatholicity as _catholic_, and are taught to look upon politics as\nexempted from the law of God as defined by the church. For them\nreligion and politics are wholly disconnected, have no necessary\nrelation one to the other, rest not on a common principle. Their\npolitical education relegates religion to private and domestic life,\nto the personal and domestic virtues, and has nothing to say in\npublic affairs. Why then should not Protestants, Jews, infidels,\nor merely nominal Catholics, fill the public offices, and take the\nmanagement of public affairs?\n\nThe French, and other Catholics, who see and deplore this, having\nreceived the same sort of education, make the evil worse by laboring\nnot to bring politics up to Catholicity, but to bring the church down\nto the level of politics, thus lowering the one without elevating the\nother. They assume an attitude toward the government of distrust,\nif not of hostility, and exert their influence to Jacobinize the\nchurch instead of destroying her, as the revolution would do if\nit could. Practically, they are only Catholic instead of infidel\nJacobins; and whatever their personal hopes and intentions, simply\nplay into the hands of the revolution. It is not the church that\nneeds liberalizing, but the state that needs Catholicizing. The\nevil, the political imbecility of Catholics in these old Catholic\nnations, results from the divorce of politics from religion, or the\nwithdrawal of the political order from its proper subordination\nand subserviency to the spiritual. It is the fruit of the so-called\n\"Gallican liberties,\" and the remedy is not in the alliance of the\nchurch either with democracy or with monarchy, with Jacobinism or\nwith absolutism; but in bringing the faithful to understand that\nthe Catholic religion is _catholic_, and has the right from God to\ngovern them alike in their public relations and in their private and\npersonal relations; in their public and official life, and in their\nprivate and domestic life.\n\nIn all these old nations the predominant religion is Christian, but\nthe politics are pagan; and Protestants take the lead in political\naffairs because they have succeeded in paganizing their own religion,\nand in eliminating all antagonism between it and their politics;\nwhile the Catholics are politically inefficient because, owing to\nthe paganism of the state, they have not been able to Christianize\ntheir politics and bring them into harmony with their religion.\nThey themselves sympathize politically with Protestants, but are\nless efficient than they, because more or less restrained by their\nreligion. Eliminate, by Christianizing politics, all antagonism\nbetween politics and religion, which now renders Catholics\npolitically indifferent or imbecile, and enable them to act with a\nunited instead of a divided mind, and they will show even a greater\naptitude for the affairs of this world than Protestants, because\nthey will act from a higher plane, from profounder and more luminous\nprinciples, and with the energy and tenacity of an ever-present and\nliving faith, instead of interest or expediency. But how can they do\nso when politics in every state in Europe are divorced from Catholic\nprinciple, are pagan, and at war with Christianity, and to take part\nin them they must sacrifice their religion and give up heaven for\nearth?\n\nIt is not Catholicity that renders the Catholics of old Catholic\nnations politically imbecile, and that permits a miserable minority\nof Protestants, Jews, and infidels to control the state, but the lack\nof it; not the fact that they are, but that they are not, thoroughly\nCatholic. It is the paganism that rules in the state, and is the\nbasis of modern politics, that renders them timid and inefficient.\nIn all Protestant nations religion itself is paganized, and there\nis as little conflict between religion and politics as there was in\nold pagan Greece or Rome. They are torn, distracted, weakened by no\ninternal conflict between the two powers; for the first act of the\nReformation was to subject the spiritual order to the secular. Hence,\nthey can act politically with undivided mind and undivided strength\nand energy. They have conformed their religion to their politics. But\nin all Catholic nations the governments, and, therefore, politics are\npagan, and really, if not avowedly, at war with their religion that\nremains Christian. Those nations are therefore distracted, divided,\nweakened by the irrepressible antagonism between pagan politics\nsupported by the secular authorities, and the Christian religion\nsustained only by the church, crippled by being denied her freedom.\n\nIt is easy now to understand why Protestant missions in old Catholic\nnations should not be wholly barren of results. They are backed by\nthe whole weight of Protestant nations, governments and people; they\nare aided by the real sympathies and tendencies of the so-called\nCatholic governments and the pagan politics of Catholics themselves.\nWhat is surprising is, that their successes are no greater. It is no\nmean proof of the life and power of the church, and of her divine\nassistance, that she is able to retain so strong a hold as she does\non so large a portion of the old Catholic populations, and to bear up\nagainst so many and such powerful enemies, enemies within as well as\nwithout the fortress.\n\nThe explanation offered by the author of the facts he concedes does\nnot wholly satisfy us. He attributes them to the influence of the\nCatholic faith in inducing a renunciation of the world, producing\nin the minds and hearts of the faithful indifference to it, and a\ndisposition to live only for piety and heaven.\n\nThat Catholicity has, and was designed to have this tendency, of\ncourse, we ourselves maintain; but we have studied the Gospel and\nProvidence as manifested in human affairs to little effect if the\nrenunciation of the world for Christ's sake is not the very way\nto secure it. They who give up all for Christ have even in this\nworld the promise of a hundred-fold, and in the world to come life\neverlasting. \"Seek first the kingdom of God and his justice, and _all\nthese_ things shall be added unto you.\" The true principle, both of\npolitical and domestic economy, is self-denial, renunciation. He who\nseeks the world and lives for it, shall lose it, since in so doing he\nviolates the divine order, and takes as his end what at best is only\na means. Other things being equal, then, we should expect a truly\nCatholic people to surpass in wealth and well-being, as in industry\nand virtue, a heathen, an infidel, or a Protestant people. Certainly,\nthe inferiority of Catholic nations in material wealth and well-being\nis no argument against Catholicity; but it is, in our judgment, a\nproof that its government and people are not truly Catholic. We do\nnot admit, to the extent the author does, the alleged superiority\nof Protestant nations, even as to the material goods of this life;\nbut as far as they can claim any superiority over Catholic nations\nin this respect, we attribute it to what we have called paganism\nin politics, or to the fact that in no Catholic nation since the\nrevival of pagan literature in the fifteenth century have politics\nbeen elevated to the Catholic standard and made to harmonize with the\nChristian religion.\n\nThe author concedes, also, that, during the last century and\nthe present, Catholic nations have been steadily declining, and\nProtestant nations advancing. At the opening of the seventeenth\ncentury, the Catholic were the great and leading nations of the\nworld. Italy, it is true, had begun to decline; Spain had attained\nits zenith; but the German empire was still the first power in\nEurope. France was succeeding to the rank of Spain, and Poland was\nregarded as the barrier of Catholicity against the North and the\nEast, while England was weakened by revolution at home. Prussia was\nonly a principality, though soon to become a kingdom, and the United\nStates did not exist. At present, England is the undisputed mistress\nof the ocean, is a great Asiatic and a great American power, weighing\nheavily on continental Europe; Prussia is absorbing all Germany. The\nUnited States have the mastership of the new world, and are exerting\na terrible pressure on the old; while, on the other hand, Portugal\nhas become virtually a colony of England; Spain has lost a world,\nceased to be a great power, and is worse than nothing to the Catholic\ncause; Poland is divided among her neighbors, and annihilated;\nAustria is expelled from Germany, and threatened with the fate of\nPoland; Italy, at war with the pope, throws her weight on the side\nof the Protestant nations. Russia and the new Greek empire that is\nto be are not Protestant; but, as schismatic powers, will sustain\nthe Protestant policy as against Catholicity. France, if she has not\ndeclined, has abandoned her mission as a great Catholic power, and is\nas little to be counted on to resist Anglo-Saxon ascendency as Russia\nor the revived Greek empire.\n\nThe excellent abb\u00e9, however, admonishes us that this decline on the\none side, and growth and preponderance on the other, is political,\nnot religious; and indicates no decline in Catholicity, or progress\nof Protestantism. The Latin races, except in France, have declined;\nbut the church has gained more members than she has lost. Only\nthe Anglo-Saxon race, the bulwark of Protestantism, has advanced.\nDenmark, Sweden, and Holland, considerable Protestant powers at\nthe opening of the seventeenth century, have lost their political\nimportance. Holland is half Catholic, and the Dutch Catholics are\nnot less devoted to the church, less tenacious of their rights, nor\nless politically active and energetic than the Catholics of Ireland,\nand even less distracted by questions of national relief or national\nindependence.\n\nOne third of the population of Prussia is Catholic, and a larger\nproportion will be if she, as is likely, absorbs Southern Germany.\nNot much reliance is to be placed on Prussia as a Protestant power.\nThe future belongs to the Anglo-Saxon race--England and the United\nStates--to be disputed only by schismatic Russia and the new\nschismatic Greek empire in the process of formation. This relieves\nthe gloom of the picture a little.\n\nBut while we agree with the author that Britain and our own country\nare the principal supports of Protestantism and of Protestant\npolitics, unless we except France, usually reckoned as a Catholic\npower, we do not believe that even the United States and Britain,\nacting in concert, are so formidable, in an anti-Catholic sense,\nas he represents them. The British crown has more Catholic than\nProtestant subjects, and its Catholic subjects are for the most\npart enfranchised, and beginning to exert a powerful and constantly\nincreasing influence on the policy of the government. England is\nobliged to count with Ireland, not only as to Irish interests in\nIreland, but, to some extent, as to Catholic interests throughout\nthe empire. The Catholic population in the United States is rapidly\ngrowing in numbers, education, wealth, and influence, and is already\ntoo large to be oppressed with impunity, and large enough, when not\nmisled by foreign passions and interests, to prevent the government\nfrom adopting a decidedly anti-Catholic policy either at home or\nabroad. Were the United States even to absorb the Catholic states\non this continent, it would be advantageous, not detrimental, to\nCatholic interests. Mexican and Cuban, as well as Central and South\nAmerican Catholics would gain much by being annexed to the Union, and\nbrought under the direct action of the ecclesiastical authority, as\nare the Catholics of the United States. We see nothing reassuring,\nwe own, to the so-called Latin races in the growth and preponderance\nof the Anglo-Saxon nations, but not much that is promising to\nProtestantism; for we cannot believe that Christianity has failed, or\nthat the future of society belongs to paganism.\n\nThe abb\u00e9 does not attribute the decline of the Latin races to any\nreligious cause, but finds its explanation--1. In the law of growth\nand decay, to which nations as individuals are subjected; 2. In\nclimate--the southern climate tends to soften and enervate, the\nnorthern to harden and invigorate; 3. In geographical position; 4.\nIn difference of temperaments; 5. Political constitutions; and 6. In\naccidental or providential causes, not to be foreseen and guarded\nagainst--the presence or absence of a great man, the defeat of a\nwell-devised, or the success of a blundering policy, the gain of\na battle that should have been lost, or the loss of a battle that\nshould have been gained, etc. (Pp. 497-508.)\n\nMost of these causes we examined and disposed of, some time ago, in\na review of Professor Draper's works. The first and second we do\nnot count. We do not believe that nations, like individuals, are\nsubject to the law of growth, maturity, old age, and death. There are\nno facts or analogies from which such a law can be adduced, and a\nCatholic nation, if truly Catholic, has in its religion a fountain of\nperennial youth. Whatever disasters befall a Catholic nation, if not\nabsorbed by another, it has always in itself a recuperative power.\nWe believe just as little in the influence of climate as one of the\ncauses of the decline of the Latin nations. The climate under which\nthey have declined is the same under which they grew up and became\nthe preponderating races. The extreme heat within the tropics is\nless unfavorable to mind or body than the extreme cold of the Arctic\nregions. The Latin races have lived both in their growth and in their\ndecline under the finest, mildest, and healthiest climate within the\ntemperate zone. The ablest men, as scholars, artists, statesmen,\nand generals, of France have belonged to her southern departments;\nand we found in our recent civil war that the men from the extreme\nSouthern States, in their physical qualities, bravery, activity and\nvigor of body, and power of endurance, were not at all inferior to\nthe men of the more Northern States. In fact, they could bear more\nfatigue, and suffer more privations, with less demoralization than\nthe Northern man. We make just as little account of difference of\ntemperament. The southern nations, with the same temperament, were\nonce the preponderating nations of Europe, and the French are in no\nrespect inferior to the English, and in many things superior. Spain\nin the sixteenth century not only surpassed what England then was,\nbut even what she now is; and there was a time when it was said of\nPortugal, the sun never sets on her empire. We do not believe much in\ndifferences of race; for God hath made all nations of one blood.\n\nGeographical position counts for something. The nations that have\nports only on the Mediterranean, or access to the ocean only through\nthat sea, have been unfavorably affected by the discovery of the\npassage to India by the Cape of Good Hope, and of this western\ncontinent in the fifteenth century. These maritime discoveries, which\nhave changed the routes of commerce as well as the character of\ncommerce itself, have given the advantage to the nations that open on\nthe Atlantic, and sufficiently account for the decline of the Italian\nrepublics. The canal across the Isthmus of Suez, just opened, will do\nsomething, no doubt, to revive the commerce of the Mediterranean, but\ncannot restore it, because the Indian trade is not now of the same\nrelative importance that it was formerly. The American trade comes in\nfor its share, rivals and even exceeds it, and this trade, whether\na ship-canal be or be not opened across the Isthmus of Darien, will\nbe chiefly in the hands of the United States and the western nations\nof Europe, for their geographical position enables them to command\nit. The insular position of Great Britain has also given her some\nadvantages.\n\nPolitical constitutions also count for something; but in the\nbeginning of the seventeenth century, the political constitutions of\nthe several European states, except the Italian republics, the Swiss\nCantons, and the United Netherlands, were essentially the same, that\nis, Roman monarchy engrafted on feudalism. Monarchy was as absolute\nin England under the Tudors and the Stuarts as it ever was in France\nor Spain, and the other estates counted for no more in her than in\nthem. The Protestant states of Germany were not more popular in\ntheir constitution than the Catholic states, and Austria has never\nbeen so despotic as Prussia. We cannot, however, attribute much to\nthis cause; for why have the Latin states been less successful in\ndeveloping and ameliorating their political constitution than the\nAnglo-Saxon, if we assume that they have not been?\n\nThe accidental or providential causes, in the author's sense, being\nmeasurable by no rule and subject to no known law, cannot be very\nwell discussed, and we are not inclined to attach much importance to\nthem. A nation is already declining, or passed its zenith, if the\nloss of a single battle can ruin it; and on its ascending course, if\nthe winning of one can secure it a permanent ascendency. Napoleon won\nmany important battles, and yet he died a prisoner on the barren rock\nof St. Helena. A victory by Pompey at Pharsalia, or by Brutus and\nCassius at Philippi, could not have restored the patrician republic\nor changed the fate of Rome. The republic was lost before C\u00e6sar\ncrossed the Rubicon. Great men play an important part, no doubt; but\na nation that can be saved by the presence of a great man is in no\nserious danger, or that could be lost by his absence cannot be saved\nby his presence. Individuals count for less than hero-worshippers\ncommonly imagine. The race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the\nstrong.\n\nExcept in the loss of the commercial supremacy of the Italian\nrepublics by the maritime discoveries of the fifteenth century, we\nregard, though not in the sense of Protestants, the chief causes of\nthe decline of the Latin nations as religious, and the ascendency of\nProtestant nations as, in the main, the counterpart of the decline\nof Catholic nations. The Catholic nations have declined, not because\nthey have been Catholic, but because they and their governments have\nnot been truly Catholic. Something, indeed, is due to the fact that\nEngland completed her revolution a hundred years before that of the\nLatin nations began. She had passed through her principal internal\nstruggles, established the basis of her constitution, settled her\ndynasty, and was in a position when the Latin revolutions broke out\nto turn them to her own advantage. She used the madness of French\nJacobinism, and the o'er-vaulting ambition of the first Napoleon.\nBeing earlier too, the English revolution was less democratic than\nthat of the Latin nations, and did not so essentially weaken the\nnation by eliminating the aristocratic element. England is only\njust now entering upon the fearful struggle between aristocracy and\ndemocracy, and it is very possible that she will lose her ascendency\nbefore she gets through it. Still we find the principal cause of the\ndeterioration of Catholic nations connected, at least, with religion.\n\nBoth the nations that became Protestant and those that remained\nCatholic were affected by the revival of Greek and Roman paganism in\nthe fifteenth century. The northern nations, adopting it in politics,\nspeedily conformed their religion to it, subjected the spiritual\nto the secular, abandoned the church, made themselves Protestant,\nand harmonized their interior national life. The southern nations\nadhered to the church, for there were in them too many enlightened,\nearnest-minded, and devout Catholics to permit them to break wholly\nwith the successor of Peter; but their governments, statesmen,\nand scholars, artists and upper classes, adopted pagan politics,\nliterature, art, and manners, and thus created an antagonism between\ntheir religion and their whole secular life, which greatly impaired\nthe influence of the church, and led to a fearful corruption of\npolitics, manners, and morals. The cause of the deterioration of\nthese nations is precisely in this antagonism, intensified by the\nso-called _Renaissance_, and which has continued, down to the present\ntime, and will, most likely, continue yet longer.\n\nThe Council of Trent did something to check the evil, but could not\neradicate it; for its cause was not in the church, nor in the abuses\nof ecclesiastical discipline or administration, but in the secular\norder, in which the secular powers would suffer no radical reforms\neither in facts or principles. They were willing the church should\nreform her own administration, but would not conform their own to\nthe principles of which she was the appointed guardian. They would\nprotect her against heretical powers; but only on their own terms,\nand only so far as she would consent to be made or they could use\nher as an instrument of their ambition. Charles V. would protect her\nonly so far as he could without losing in his military projects the\nsupport of the Protestant princes of the empire; and when he wished\nto force the pope to his terms, he let loose his fanatical troops\nunder the Constable Bourbon against Rome, who imprisoned him and\nspoiled and sacked the city for nine months; Philip II. would also\nserve the church and make a war of extermination on heretics in the\nLow Countries, but only in the hope of using her as an instrument in\nattaining to the universal monarchy at which he aimed. Louis XIV.,\nand after him Napoleon I., attempted the same. They all thought they\ncould use her to further their own ambition; but they failed--and\nfailed miserably, shamefully. He to whom it belongs to give victory\nor defeat, who demands disinterested services, and who will not\nsuffer his church to be used as an instrument of earthly ambition,\ntouched them with his finger, and their strength failed, they\nwithered as grass, and all their plans miscarried. It was better that\nher avowed enemies should triumph for a season than that she should\nbe enslaved by her protectors, or smothered in the embraces of her\nfriends. God is a jealous God, and his glory he will not give to\nanother.\n\nHere we see the cause. Paganism in the state corrupted the\nsovereigns, their courts, and the ruling classes in morals and\nmanners, enfeebled character, debased society, in the Catholic\nstates. The failure, through divine Providence, of the ambitious and\nselfish schemes of such professedly Catholic sovereigns as Philip\nII., Louis XIV., and Napoleon I., reduced the Latin races to the\nlow estate in which we now find them, and gave, in the political,\ncommercial, and industrial order, the ascendency to Protestant\nnations, as a chastisement to both, and a lesson to Catholics from\nwhich it is to be hoped they will profit. If the Catholic nations\nhad been truly Catholic, if the educated and ruling classes had\nrecognized and defended the church steadily from the first on\nCatholic principles, and unflinchingly maintained her freedom and\nindependence as the kingdom of God on earth, representing him who is\nKing of kings and Lord of lords, these nations would have retained\ntheir preponderance, the church would have reformed the morals and\nmanners of society, and the Protestant nations would never have\nexisted, or would have speedily returned to the fold.\n\nYet we do not despair of these Latin races; for, though their\ngovernments have betrayed the faith, and the people have been\nalienated from the church by attributing to her the political faults\nof their rulers, from which she and they alike have suffered, they\nstill retain Catholic tradition, and have in them large numbers of\nmen and women, more than enough to have saved the cities of the\nplain, who are true believers, and who know and practise in sincerity\nand earnestness their faith. They have still a recuperative energy,\nand may yet re-ascend the scale they have descended. The present\nemperor of the French believed it possible, and his mission to\nrecover the Latin races. He attempted it, and his plan, to human\nwisdom, seemed well devised and practicable. It was to break the\nalliance between England and Russia; to create an independent,\nconfederated, or united Italy; to divide the Anglo-Saxon race in\nthe United States, and to raise up and consolidate a Latin power in\nMexico and Central America, while he extended the French power in\nNorth Africa, defeated English and Russian diplomatic preponderance\nin the East, opened a maritime canal across the Isthmus of Suez, and\nrecovered the commerce of India for the Mediterranean powers. By\nthese means he would give to France the protectorate of the Latin\nraces, and guard alike against Anglo-Saxon and Russian preponderance.\nBut his plan made no account, or a false account, of the moral and\nreligious causes of the decline of Latin races, and sought to elevate\nthem not as truly Catholic but as temporal powers, and to use the\nchurch for a secular end, instead of using the secular power he\npossessed for a spiritual and Catholic end. He committed over again\nthe error of his uncle, Louis XIV., and Philip II., and has failed,\nas he might have foreseen if he had understood that the church must\nbe served, if at all, for herself, and that she serves the secular\nonly when the secular serves her for her own sake.\n\nThe result of Napoleon's policy has been not to elevate the Latin\nraces and to bring them to gravitate around France as the great\ncentral Latin power, but to weaken the power of the church over them,\nto strengthen the antagonism between their faith and their politics,\nand to depress them still more in relation to the Teutonic and\nSlavonic races. The emperor of the French, whether he had or had not\nCatholic interests at heart, has done them great injury. He began by\nsubordinating the spiritual to the secular, when he should have begun\nby subordinating the secular to the spiritual. He would then have\nsecured the divine protection and assistance, and been invincible.\nHe has, in reality, only defeated the end he aimed at, and left the\nLatin races in a more deplorable condition than that in which he\nfound them. As a Catholic and as a Latin sovereign, he has not been\na success. The Protestant and schismatical powers have grown only\nby the faults and blunders, the want of submission and fidelity of\nthe professedly Catholic powers; not by any means, as they suppose,\nby the errors and abuses of the ecclesiastical administration, nor\nby any positive virtue, even for this world, in their heresy and\nschism. God, as we have just said, is a jealous God, and his glory\nhe will not give to another. The Latin races, so called, when in\npower sought not his glory but their own, and failed. But they may\nyet recover their former power and splendor, if not their commercial\npreponderance, by rejecting the subtle paganism which has enervated\nthem, the infidel politics they have adopted; by restoring to the\nchurch her full freedom and independence as the spiritual order, and\nby subordinating the secular to the spiritual order; that is, by\nmaking themselves really and truly Catholic.\n\nIn France there was, at an early day, an attempt made to reconcile\npaganism in politics with Catholicity in religion, in what is\ncalled Gallicanism, which, however, only served to systematize the\nantagonism between church and state, and to render it all the more\ndestructive to both. We look upon Gallicanism, as expressed in the\nfour articles adopted at the dictation of the government by the\nassembly of the French clergy in 1682, and which had shown itself all\nalong from Philip the Fair, the grandson of St. Louis, which broke\nout in great violence with Louis XII., and his _petit_ council of\nfive cardinals at Pisa, acted on by the _politiques_ of Henry IV.,\nand formulated by the great Bossuet under Louis XIV., as the most\nformidable as well as the most subtle enemy the church has ever had\nto contend with.\n\nThe essence, the real virus, so to speak, of Gallicanism is not, as\nso many suppose, in the assertion that the dogmatic definitions of\nthe pope are not irreformible--though that is a grave error, in our\njudgment--but in the assertion of the independence of the state in\nface of the spiritual order. No doubt Bossuet's purpose in drawing\nup the four articles was to prevent the French government from going\nfarther and carrying away the kingdom into open heresy and schism;\nbut the Subtle secularism to which he gave his sanction, especially\nas sure to be practically understood and applied, is far harder to\ndeal with than either heresy or schism, and it seems to us far more\nembarrassing to the church. It forbids the Catholic to be logical, to\ndraw from his Catholic principles their proper consequences, or to\ngive them their legitimate application; takes away from the defences\nof faith its outposts, and reduces them to the bare citadel, and\nproves an almost insurmountable obstacle to the church in her efforts\nto reach and subdue the world to the law of God. It withdraws the\nsecular order from its rightful subjection to the spiritual order,\nand denies that religion is the supreme law for nations as well as\nfor individuals, and for kings as well as for subjects.\n\nThe principal fault we find with the author, as may be gathered\nfrom what we have said, is that he appears to see in the antagonism\nbetween pagan politics and Christian, or in the original and\ninextinguishable dualism asserted by Gallicanism, no cause of the\ndeterioration of Catholic nations, or of the partial success in old\nCatholic populations of Protestant missions in unmaking Catholics,\nif not in making Protestants. He seems to accept the one-sided\nasceticism which places the goods of this life in antagonism with the\ngoods of the world to come, and, though he does not avow Gallicanism,\noriginated by paganism in the state, he does not disavow it, or\nappear to be aware that it has any influence in detaching the people\nfrom the church, by making them Catholics only on one side of their\nminds, and leaving them pagan on the other.\n\nThe enemies of the church understand this matter far better, and they\nlook upon a Gallican as being as good as a Protestant. James I.,\nthe English Solomon, declared himself ready to accept the church, if\nallowed to do it on Gallican principles. Protestants have very little\ncontroversy with out-and-out Gallicanism. They feel instinctively\nthat the Catholics who assert the independence, which means\npractically the supremacy, of the secular order, and bind the pope by\nthe canons which the church herself makes, are near enough to them;\nand if they are not separated from the church, it is all the better,\nbecause they can better serve the Protestant cause in her communion\nthan they could if out of it. It is the Papal, not the Gallican\nchurch they hate.\n\nWe do not agree, if we may be permitted to say so, with the author\nas to the superiority of Protestant nations, or that they are likely\nto retain for any great length of time the superiority they appear\nnow to have, nor do we accept, as we have already intimated, the\none-sided asceticism which supposes any necessary antagonism between\nthis world and the next. The antagonism grows out of the error of\nplacing this world as the end or supreme good, when it is, in fact,\nonly a medium. We as Christians renounce it as the end we live for;\nbut if we so renounce it, and live only in Christ for God, who is\nreally our supreme good, we find this world in its true place with\nall its goods; and a really Catholic nation that holds the spiritual\nand eternal supreme, and subordinates the secular to it, will have\na hundred-fold more of the really good things of this life, than a\nnation that subordinates the spiritual to the secular, and seeks only\nmaterial goods. We believe, and the author proves it, that there\nis even now more real wealth and well-being in Catholic than in\nProtestant nations; though we agree with the author, that if it were\nnot so, it would be no argument against the church.\n\nThe question of tolerance and intolerance, and of civil and religious\nliberty, as related to Catholic and Protestant nations respectively,\nwill form the subject of a future article. In the mean time we\ncommend again to our readers the work we are reviewing.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[144] _De l'Avenir du Protestantisme et du Catholicisme._ Par M.\nl'Abb\u00e9 F. Martin. Paris: Tobra et Haton. 1869. 8vo, pp. 608.\n\n\n\n\nUNTYING GORDIAN KNOTS.\n\n\nI.\n\nLADY SACKVIL'S JOURNAL.\n\n_Venice, April 3d, 185-._ Arrived this afternoon, and was received\nby Flora at the station in an embossed gondola with crimson awnings.\nAh me! the delicious glow of a new sensation. By what blessed\nexception was Venice reserved to me for the thirty-first year of that\nstagnation we call life, and for the second year of dowagerhood? As\nwe floated up to Beldoni Palace, the blood of nineteen flowed in\nmy veins. But in the marble court, perfumed with orange-blossoms\nexhaling youth and hope, the twins rushed out upon me, crying,\n\"Auntie!\" Bah! I was again myself, smothered in crape and bombazine,\nwith the heart of a jade-stone and the circulation of a crocodile.\n\nAs we stood beneath the fig-trees in the garden, Flora whispered,\n\"Look at the middle window of the third story.\" I looked, and beheld\na brown-haired woman, in a soft blue dress, pushing aside a mass of\npassion-vine, and watching us. A pretty picture enough, made warm and\nglowing in the last rays of sunset! \"Who is it?\" \"Nicholas Vane's\nwife. I wrote you of his marriage two years ago. They have taken an\napartment we do not use, and we are constantly together. You remember\nthat George owes his success in life to Mr. Vane, and he has always\nbeen like an elder brother to Nicholas.\"\n\n\"She's rather pretty, is she not?\"\n\n\"Not exactly pretty, but excessively nice. George respects her\nimmensely.\"\n\n\"George, George, George!\" the point of every moral and adornment of\nevery tale. George does not respect _me_ immensely; but I am not sure\nthat I value his opinion less for that reason--heaven help me!\n\nWell, if Nicholas Vane makes his wife half as wretched as he\nmade me ten years ago, I pity her. I have always wished for an\n_\u00e9claircissement_ with him on the subject of my marriage with\nSackvil. Perhaps it may come now.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_4th._--Created a revolution in the household to-day; persuaded Flora\nto have the Erard \"grand\" moved into a great old barn of a room\nseldom used, where one can write and practise without interruption.\nShe had intended to give up one of her prettiest rooms to me; but\nI've taken a fancy to this one, which will be too desolate to tempt\nany one to share my solitude.\n\nGeorge is charmed to have me establish myself at such a distance from\nthe rest of the family. He at once ordered in orange-trees and ivies\nto adorn my dungeon--a delightful thought; but the dreary waste is\nfast becoming a blossoming oasis. I am writing now by the jalousied\nwindow, half listening to the dip of oars as the gondolas go lazily\nby in the afternoon light.\n\nA glorious piano-tuning this morning, much to Flora's disgust. \"Let\nme send to Lupi's for a tuner, dear,\" she entreated, as I produced\nfork and key from the depths of a show work-basket. \"It looks so\nmasculine.\"\n\n\"It should be _feminine_ to bring harmony out of discord,\" I\nanswered. \"No piano of mine shall be intrusted to a hireling.\"\n\nI talked and tuned, tuned and talked--not simultaneously but in\nstrata--and had possessed myself of the interior history of the Vane\nfamily by the time the piano answered my searching ears harmoniously.\n\nMary Terence was the daughter of a clever author, of some pretensions\nto literary fame, but better known in Boston as a brilliant talker.\nShe was left an orphan at nineteen, poor and unprotected. Vane, who\nhad been one of the _habitu\u00e9s_ of her father's house, admired her\nsweet devotion to the crotchety old man. She was a Catholic, too;\nand though Nicholas never cared much for his religion himself, he\nwas always fond of seeing other people practise it, as I remember\npainfully. But, however it happened, through religion or love, or\ncaprice, or whatever, he married the young thing, and fancies there\nwas never seen her equal.\n\nThe piano tuned, I betook myself to practising _Variations\nS\u00e9rieuses_, and Saran's variations in the same style, but founded\non a theme far nobler than the one Mendelssohn has taken. Saran is\ncapable of great things, but will probably fail to accomplish them,\nas this period of our century especially discourages development. To\nexcite hopes and disappoint them appears to be the summit of youthful\nambition, at least in the musical world.\n\nI was feeling very happy at the piano; keys cool and smooth; nerves\nimpressionable but not impressed; my ivy-garnished dungeon excellent\nin its acoustic effects; Flora, in a senseless sort of way, a\nsympathetic listener. Now and then a servant came to her for orders,\nbut her voice is one that harmonizes with stillness. Flora is surely\nthe sweetest, calmest, most beautiful simpleton I have ever known.\n\nMendelssohn and Saran having tired me, Chopin came to the\nrescue--mazurkas, preludes, nocturnes. Why did I play so well? Why\nwas that scherzo on the music-desk, and why do its leaves turn so\ninconveniently? As I came within two bars of the close of the third\npage, a hand turned it deftly. I knew the hand of old, and its rare\nfaculty for turning music well. With difficulty I repressed a start\nof surprise, for I had thought myself alone with Flora. But the\nagony of recollection quivered in my nerves, impressed now as well\nas impressionable. I had not believed myself susceptible of such\nemotion, or capable of such repression of feeling, if once aroused.\n\nThe scherzo ended, I paused, but for a moment could not summon\ncourage to break the silence that followed. At last I turned to leave\nthe piano. Vane was sitting behind me on the right. His lips parted\npainfully in a smile as he greeted me. Strange! What was it to either\nof us but a glance into a past we would both destroy if that were\npossible; a furtive peep into a magic mirror we thought broken long\nago.\n\nThe brown-haired nymph of the passion-vine was half reclining on a\nlounge with the happy, musing look of one who seldom muses. I had\nmeant to take the initiative with her, accepting her as Flora's\nfriend, and gradually admitting her to intimacy. To my surprise,\nI found myself responding gratefully to her pleasant welcome, and\nwishing in my hidden soul she might find something in me to like.\nWhere lies her power? As yet I cannot tell. Vane is very little\nchanged in ten years; lines deepened but not altered. There is\nevidently a charming relation between him and his wife. She is the\nstronger of the two in character, I fancy--a simple, genuine person,\nwhat more I do not yet know.\n\n\nII.\n\nNicholas Vane's library overlooked the garden of Palazzo Beldoni. The\ndimensions of the room, the windows curtained with vines in the month\nof April, the glowing sunlight that forced its way in between swaying\nbranches, all spoke of Italy; but New England comfort held a cozy\nreign within doors; husband and wife were occupied together before\nthe great-study table covered with plans of fortifications; she in\nmaking extracts from books of reference, he in working out the minor\ndetails of a design.\n\n\"How odd that I should have forgotten!\" Mary said suddenly, pausing\nin her work with a look of surprise and recollection. \"Flora charged\nme to tell you that Lady Sackvil has written to say that she is\ncoming here. She will arrive this afternoon in all probability, and\nI was to have told you of it yesterday. However,\" she added after a\npause, \"you don't seem to take much interest in my great piece of\nnews, so the delay has done no harm.\"\n\n\"Amelia Grant is coming--Lady Sackvil, I mean!\" Nicholas said slowly,\nbut without pausing in his work. \"Very well, I hope you will like\nher.\"\n\n\"It never occurred to me not to like her,\" Mary answered. \"In the\nfirst place, she is Flora's sister; in the second place, she is a\nvery fascinating woman; in the third place, she is a riddle I hope to\nsolve; in the fourth place--\"\n\n\"In the fourth place,\" exclaimed Vane, throwing down his pencil with\none of those short laughs that quench enthusiasm and kindle wrath at\nthe same moment; \"in the fourth place, my beloved Oedipus, she is\na sorceress who will read you at sight. Amelia Grant is the mirror\nof the person she is with; when you fancy you are deciphering her,\nyou will be simply gazing at a reflection of yourself--no unpleasant\nsight, I acknowledge,\" he added kindly, seeing that his rough answer\nhad brought the color to her cheeks; \"but it will not solve you the\nriddle. Look here, child. I am sorry Lady Sackvil is coming here. She\nis a worldly, heartless woman; full of ability, full of attraction;\nbut let me tell you this: if eating your little innocent heart could\nafford her an afternoon's entertainment, she would not hesitate to do\nit.\"\n\nHe paused, rose and went to the window. Mary remained at the table,\nmaking sketches upon the baize cover with her pen-handle.\n\n\"She must play for us, though,\" said Captain Vane, coming out of a\nbrown study and returning to his seat. \"She was the cleverest amateur\nI have ever heard; and they say Lord Sackvil indulged every whim\nand carried her from Leipsic to Weimar, and from Weimar to Berlin,\nas her fancy suggested. She went through a conservatory course at\nLeipsic, and graduated most creditably. Yes, she is astonishingly\nclever, beyond dispute, and capable of great self-devotion to her\nart. Of all the persons I have known, men or women, she is the most\nimpressionable, mobile, sympathetic, dramatic.\" And again he merged\ninto a reverie, while Mary continued the ungrateful task of drawing\non the table-cover.\n\n\"Miss Grant had a great many lovers, I suppose,\" she said at length.\n\n\"I don't know--yes--probably--perhaps not. Just look at plan four,\nand give me the length of line A-Q.\"\n\n\"One inch--three inches--six feet. If you don't answer my question, I\nshall not answer yours,\" said Mary, laying her head down on the table.\n\nVane laughed, and looked out the reference himself.\n\n\"She was married at twenty, you goose; so it is not probable that she\nhad many declared lovers.\"\n\n\"What sort of man was Lord Sackvil?\"\n\n\"Lift up your head and go to work and I will tell you--there. Lord\nSackvil was a clever, kindly man of about forty-five, rich but fond\nof diplomatic life. He came to Washington on a special mission.\nAmelia met him in society, mirrored his cleverness, and kindliness,\nand diplomacy, and married him after an engagement of three weeks.\"\n\n\"Was the marriage a happy one?\"\n\n\"I don't know--I never asked--I don't care. Stop asking questions;\nI'm sick of the subject.\"\n\n\"I verily believe she has come. I hear voices in the garden,\" cried\nMary, springing from her seat and running to the window. \"Yes; it\nmust be Lady Sackvil, talking with Flora under the trees. There, she\nturned and looked at me. Oh! do come here; she is very lovely.\"\n\n\"Mary, come here,\" said Vane sharply. \"Don't stand staring at what\ndoes not concern you. There, I've upset the inkstand. Now you must\ncome and help me.\"\n\n\"If you had upset the universe, I should leave you to wipe it up\nyourself. Why, my dear, I never expected to know a live countess. I\nreally must look at her.\"\n\n\"Mary, come to me,\" said Vane sternly, rising from his seat.\n\nShe came slowly toward him, and stood looking up in his face with an\nexpression half of fun, half of amazement.\n\n\"I had not supposed you capable of such babyish conduct,\" he said,\nthe blood rushing to his face.\n\n\"I have been very silly,\" Mary said. \"O Nicholas! you don't know how\nsilly I have been. I will never, never behave so again--or think such\nthoughts again,\" she added, looking at him with an expression of\nabsolute sincerity and trustfulness. \"I will all my life trust you as\nyou trust me.\"\n\n\"Do no such thing,\" he answered hastily. \"I am a man like half the\nmen in the world, and women like you are very rare. My darling,\" he\nsaid tenderly, \"I love you; and I revere you too--words which should\nbe very precious to a wife. Love may pass, but reverence never. You\nare my preserver in this world; you are my strength, my patience, my\nall, God help me! When I look into those sweet, truthful, innocent\neyes, they give me all the strength I need for life. Mary, never\ndistrust me--never, never distrust me, for I love and honor you.\"\n\n\"Thank God for that!\" she answered softly. \"But please don't place\nyour dependence on me. If I had strength to give you, you should\nhave it if my very life had to pay for the gift. But you cannot live\nvicariously. You cannot receive strength through me. I do not regret\nbehaving so foolishly to-day merely because I have displeased you. If\nI am silly, you had better know it. But I am afraid you will think\nthat confessing my faults does me so little good that you will be\nless than ever inclined to confess your own.\"\n\n\"Make yourself quite easy on that point,\" said Captain Vane, smiling.\n\"I will not judge things good in themselves by your malpractices.\nBut let me speak to you very seriously, my dear child. I love you\ntenderly, and I love no one else in the world; but if your suspicions\nhad been correct, you took the worst means in the world to mend\nmatters. Suspicions are excessively irritating to a man, and none\nthe less so, you may be sure, when they are well-grounded. And now\nI freely forgive you all your sins toward me, real and imaginary,\nand I think if Angelo were to come and wash away that pool of ink on\nthe _parquet_, all traces of this terrible passage of arms might be\neffaced.\"\n\n\nIII.\n\nLADY SACKVIL'S JOURNAL.\n\nFlora came into the room to-day, while Josephine was dressing my\nhair. My cap was lying on the dressing-table. She took it up and\nexamined it thoughtfully. \"Milly,\" she said at last, \"do me a favor.\nGive up wearing caps. I cannot bear to have your lovely hair covered.\nBesides, the usual time for wearing close mourning is passed; and I\nam convinced that common rules of etiquette should be followed in\nthese matters. If you continue to wear black beyond the usual period,\nyou will lay it aside some day because your grief is diminished, and\nthat is not a pleasant idea.\"\n\nFlora is a wise woman, within a very narrow range. And so the caps\nare laid aside. I do it with a kind of regret. I remember fancying,\nwhen I first adopted them, that I had assumed unworldliness with\nthem. I do not wish to make the smallest sacrifice to duty, but no\none enjoys _feeling_ good more than I do. My hair _is_ beautiful.\nIt looks so nicely in great smooth rolls fastened with an ivory\ncomb. I think I should go mad if I were ugly; if I were not sure of\nattracting any one I care to attract--except George Holston. But\nnever mind his disapproval! It is pleasanter to be disliked than\ndisregarded, at least to an egotist like myself. To-night we had good\nmusic. Only the Vanes were here, Flora, and I. It was interesting\nto introduce them to certain Schumann songs they had not seen;\nFranz songs of which they had never even heard; then Chopin, as\nthe moonlight streamed in at the great window by the piano, making\ncandles unnecessary. \"More, more,\" said Mrs. Vane, when I paused.\n\"No more of that kind,\" said Nicholas, laughing. \"I need rebuilding\nat present.\" So we had glorious John Sebastian Bach, ending with an\norgan prelude and fugue arranged by Liszt. Vane listened, looking\nout of the window upon the canal. Mrs. Vane looked transfigured,\nlike one who had found a great calmness and strength. I envied her,\nand yet what should I do with calmness and strength if I had them?\nThrow them into the great pool of life and watch the bubbles rise\nto the surface. Nothing can add to Flora's serenity. She rolled up\nher crochet work, laid it away in a blue velvet sarcophagus, and\nsaid, \"Come into the other room and we will have chocolate.\" When we\nwere alone, she asked, \"Did you ever notice how beautifully Nicholas\nVane's hair grows on his forehead? And he has the most expressive\neye-lids I ever saw. You must look at them some time.\" I promised to\ndo so.\n\nI am arranging a Schumann quartette for the piano. I find that Mrs.\nVane knows very little of his music. How enchanting transcription is!\nOne finds in it, I am confident, some of the delights of creation.\nIt is only eleven; I can have two good hours of work before going to\nbed.\n\n\nIV.\n\n\"Nicholas, did you ever tell your wife of your engagement to Amelia\nGrant?\" asked George Holston, abusing the occasion of a visit from\nhis adopted brother by asking unpleasant questions.\n\nVane knocked the ashes off his cigar and answered curtly, \"No.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"Because it was a disagreeable subject; because the matter was dead\nand buried years before I saw Mary; because I didn't choose to speak\nof it.\"\n\n\"I think you made a mistake.\"\n\n\"I don't.\"\n\n\"I do; and I will tell you why, though you don't wish to hear. A man\ncan't put too many barriers between himself and temptation. You are\nnow brought unexpectedly into daily intercourse with Amelia. Long\nafter actual love dies out, personal influence continues dangerous.\nIf you had told your wife of your former connection, it would have\nacted as a useful check upon you, unconsciously, of course.\"\n\n\"I need no check,\" answered Vane in a tone of annoyance, \"beyond my\nlove for Mary, and my distrust of Lady Sackvil. Mary knows I had an\nold love affair, but does not know with whom. You need not disturb\nyourself. I know Amelia Grant of old.\"\n\n\"I doubt it. You exaggerate her faults. She is by no means deficient\nin good qualities, if she chose to use them. She is a woman ruined\nby bad training; educated systematically to selfishness, vanity,\nself-will. She is the most worldly woman of her years I have ever\nknown; but her most dangerous trait, as accompanying so many faults,\nis the yearning for better things that makes her interesting. She\nthinks I dislike her. On the contrary, I find her very attractive,\nthough I am determined to do nothing to induce her to prolong her\nstay with us.\"\n\n\"I don't know any thing about her capacities for good,\" Vane remarked\ndryly. \"I know that we had not been engaged twenty-four hours before\nshe was receiving Lord Sackvil's attentions freely. At the end of\nthree days of befooling, I put an end to the farce and left the coast\nclear for his lordship. Flora knows all about this, of course?\"\n\n\"Evidently not. They were never together during their girlhood.\nBesides, Amelia never reveals any thing discreditable to herself,\nyou may be sure. Keep out of her way, Vane; she has gifts which are\nespecially attractive to you. But, by Jupiter! it is rather an insult\nto fancy that any one can fascinate you after your wife, who is\nnearer perfection than any woman I ever saw.\"\n\n\"Upon my word!\" said Vane, glad of a diversion, \"these are agreeable\nsentiments. I think if any body has ground for jealousy, it is poor\nme. I have not the slightest doubt that Mary will eventually be\ncanonized, but I'll thank you to defer all sentiments of veneration\nuntil then.\"\n\nAt this moment a servant announced that Mrs. Holston and Lady Sackvil\nwere in the gondola waiting for Captain Vane.\n\nNicholas took his hat and rose. \"Keep your eyes and your wisdom\nto yourself, George,\" he said, in answer to Holston's glance\nof amusement. \"It is a bad thing to be wiser than your day and\ngeneration.\"\n\n\"So Cassandra found,\" replied Holston; \"but she was right, for all\nthat.\"\n\n\nV.\n\n\"Lay her down by me, Debby,\" said Mrs. Vane to the\ncomfortable-looking old body who was serving as nurse to a second\ngeneration. \"Lay her beside her own little mamma. Was she very good?\nDid Padre Giulio think her lovely? Didn't she cry the least bit while\nhe was pouring the water?\"\n\n\"Just enough, mum, to let the old Adam out,\" answered Debby, tucking\nup mother and child energetically. \"As for the Paddry, he thought\nshe was a perfect pink; and he'd had the chill took off the water,\nthanks be to praise! It seems only yesterday,\" continued Debby\ncontemplatively, \"I was a holdin' Mr. Nicholas to be christened. He\nroared loud enough for two generations, I recollect, and now he's a\ncap'n in the army. Well, we're all agin'. Now, mum, I'll trust her\nwith you a little while till I can get that gruel made. That Jovanny\nputs sorrel into it the minute my back's turned. Now you can take\njust as good care of baby, Miss Vane, as if I was here, and don't you\ngo a tirin' yourself. Mr. Nicholas lays all the blame on me if your\ncheeks burn.\"\n\nAs the door closed behind the nurse, Mary nestled the baby close, and\ngave herself up to the ecstasy of her new joy. We will follow her\nthoughts as if they had been spoken. Happiness like hers seldom finds\nvent in words.\n\n\"I need no book of meditation with you beside me, baby. I gave you to\nGod before your birth; I brought you into the world to be a saint,\nand, so help me heaven, I will never stand between you and Him, no\nmatter what the struggle may cost me. O holy little head! glorified\nby the waters of baptism, with this kiss I offer you to God, that\nhe may fill you with pure thoughts always tending to heaven. Sweet\nlittle mouth, speak comfort to every living creature. Sweetest eyes,\nlook heavenward; and when you turn to earth, may you see it strewn\nwith roses as it has been to me. Tender, pure feet, may you never\nbe stained with the world's clay; walk firmly, bravely, steadfastly,\nwhere the Infant Jesus trod before you--yes, sweet, though it\nshould be on thorns, my tender, precious one. And O little lovely\nhands! work for God, work for his poor and suffering ones, work for\nneglected altars. O God! O God! it is too sweet, too sublime, the\npossession of this soul which I am to train for thee. Make me as\nunflinching as Queen Blanche, steadfast as St. Monica, wise as St.\nPaula. May my child and I revere each other, remembering the Child\nJesus and his Mother! When I stand at thy judgment-seat, dear Lord,\nmay this plead for me, that never by example or omission have I\ncaused my child to desist from following thee.\"\n\nTurning her head upon the pillow, Mary saw her husband standing by\nthe bedside, looking at her and the child. His eyes were full of\ntears as he stooped and kissed her.\n\n\"This is the happiest day of my life,\" she said as he sat down by\nher; \"the day of our baby's christening. And do you know that I chose\nfor it the anniversary of the day when I found out that you loved me.\"\n\n\"Tell me about that day.\"\n\n\"Won't nurse be here in a minute?\"\n\n\"No; I have come in her stead, as bearer of apologies. Giovanni has\ndone or left undone something with regard to your dinner, I believe.\nAnd now for the day when you made that wonderful discovery. Come, I\nshould think the time for blushing about it was over.\"\n\n\"It was the day before I was to leave Boston,\" Mary explained.\n\"Almost every thing in the house had been sold at auction. Oh! it\nwas so dismal! Only my room and the library were comparatively\nuntouched. I was sitting on my trunk, counting the money that was\nleft after poor papa's debts were paid.\"\n\n\"How much was there?\"\n\n\"Just ten dollars. Enough to pay my fare to Drewsville and leave me\nwithin a few dollars of absolute dependence. I hated the idea of\ngoing to live with my Aunt Jane. But that was not what I was thinking\nof, nor my poverty, even while I counted my money.\"\n\n\"What were you thinking of, dear?\"\n\nHer cheek flushed brightly. \"I had never loved any one before, you\nknow, Nicholas,\" she said apologetically. \"I did not know what it\nwas, or perhaps I could have helped it. I knew there was a reason\nwhy it was agony for me to leave Boston, and I did not dare to try\nto find out what the reason was. I knew there was a pain within me\nharder to bear than the grief for my father's death, but that I must\nnot even think of it. But oh! when they told me that you were in the\nlibrary waiting to see me, then I knew what the pain was, then I knew\nwhat the agony was. Do you wonder that I chose the anniversary of\nthat day? That day when we stood together in the old house beside the\nempty fireplace, and you asked me to leave solitude and dependence\nand homesickness, and be your wife.\"\n\n\"Has it been all you thought it would be?\"\n\n\"All, and more than all,\" she answered simply. And in his heart he\nprotested that she should never be less happy in her love. As he left\nher with the nurse, his heart was full of wonder that so pure and\ntrue a creature had been intrusted to his keeping. Outside the door a\nnote was handed to him, one of Mrs. Holston's perfumed, rose-colored\nbillets, and he stepped back into his wife's room to read it.\n\n\"What is the matter?\" she asked, seeing a look of annoyance or\nperplexity on his face. He handed her the note, and she read:\n\n     \"DEAR NICHOLAS: We are going to Torcello to-morrow, and must\n     have you with us to expound the mysteries of the old church, the\n     arabesques, etc. We leave at ten, and shall be gone all day. Don't\n     say no to yours very faithfully,\n\n                                          F. R. H.\n\n     \"P.S.--My sister says, 'Oh! yes. We must have him; he is so\n     _gem\u00fcthlich_.'\"\n\nThe reason for a refusal was simple enough. His going would leave his\nwife for a whole day to Debby's tender but garrulous mercies; but\nthis was not for her to see or say. An undefined distrust of Lady\nSackvil, which she believed to be quite groundless made her urge his\nacceptance of the invitation. He went to Torcello, and all day long,\nin and out of measure with the oars, these words rung in his ears:\n\n                  \"All too good\n    For human nature's daily food.\"\n\nIt is a bad sign when one feels out of harmony with one's best\ninfluences.\n\nMrs. Holston required her husband's attendance, and Captain Vane must\ndo the honors of the island to her sister. He was a man of artistic\nperceptions and of accurate knowledge; and Lady Sackvil's capacities\nwere of precisely the kind to draw these out. Here was the great\ndanger. Mary, though intelligent and sympathetic, could never be any\nthing more than a good listener; Amelia aroused every faculty within\nhim to full life. The day at Torcello did more harm than many months\ncould undo.\n\n    TO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\n\n\nIN MEMORIAM OF THE REV. FRANCIS A. BAKER.\n\nWRITTEN ON ALL SAINTS' DAY, 1869.\n\n\n    All Saints' to-day! To-morrow is All Souls':\n    To-morrow, blessed soul, I pray for thee.\n    To-day, O sainted spirit! pray for me.\n    One day--what years one day of life controls,\n    My round eternity on that day rolls--\n    Retired, we prayed together; my bent knee\n    Before thee; thy hand raised to make me free,\n    While, as through Moses, mercy wrath withholds.\n    And well I mind me of succeeding joy,\n    How thanks more rapt for God's dear love arose.\n    When my full heart did thy blest words employ:\n    And after, though unmarked the bashful boy,\n    How sweet thy chance inquiry thrilled me, heaven knows!\n    How close the bond there formed, heaven will disclose.\n\n\n\n\nCHURCH MUSIC.\n\nII.\n\n\n\"I do not believe in giving the best music to the devil,\" said a\nfriend while holding with us an amicable discussion on the subject\nwhich forms the heading of this paper.\n\n\"You quote John Wesley, the founder of the Methodist sect,\" we\nreplied. \"Nevertheless, we agree both with him and you. We do not\nbelieve in giving any music whatever to the devil.\"\n\n\"I would say,\" returned our friend, \"that the best music ought to be\ngiven to God.\"\n\n\"Most assuredly,\" said we; \"and the poorest too. Why not?\"\n\n\"I mean,\" our friend explained, \"that in the public worship of God\nthe best music should be used that can be obtained.\"\n\n\"You re\u00ebcho our own sentiments,\" we rejoined. \"But will you please to\ndefine what you call _the best_?\"\n\n\"Oh! nothing simpler,\" replied our friend. \"That music is the best\nwhich is the most agreeable.\"\n\nWe murmured something about \"_de gustibus_,\" when our friend\nprudently added, \"to the occasion.\"\n\n\"And the occasion is--\" we suggested.\n\n\"Is divine worship,\" continued our friend. \"Where the soul is\ninstructed by the divine truths the holy offices of the Church\nimpart, and inspired with sentiments now of prayer, now of praise,\nnow of holy joy, now of penitence, now of lamentation, and so forth.\"\n\n\"Well said!\" we exclaimed. \"You have again spoken our own mind. But\nhave you ever heard such music?\"\n\n\"I have heard some very charming music in my time,\" answered our\nfriend cautiously.\n\n\"Exactly answering to your definition?\"\n\n\"Well, no. I cannot say _exactly_ answering to my definition.\"\n\n\"We have been more fortunate than you,\" said we. \"It has been our lot\nto hear very charming music, exactly answering to your definition.\"\n\n\"Where?\" demanded our friend earnestly.\n\n\"In many churches and monasteries of Europe,\" we replied.\n\n\"What was its style and character?\" inquired our friend.\n\n\"The Gregorian Chant, pure and undefiled.\"\n\nOur friend honorably closed the discussion by reiterating his\ndefinition and regretting his lack of experience.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIn a former article we endeavored to bring before our readers such\nproofs of the statement we made, that the use of modern music in\nthe ritual service of the Church was both improper and illegal, as\nwe thought a very slight examination of the subject would suggest.\nThese proofs were, however, not requisite, since it is a patent fact\nthat such music is an innovation on the universal traditionary use\nof the Gregorian chant; an innovation, to judge from the countries\nwhere it has crept in and supplanted the old ritual song, that is the\nresult of a religious taste vitiated by the influences of a spirit\nwhich, if not precisely Protestant, is, to say the least, worldly,\nanti-Christian, and therefore anti-Catholic. If there be any, then,\nwho prefer music of this character to the authorized chant, it is\nnecessary for them to show good reasons _for the liberty they take in\nusing it_, or why an immediate return should not be made to what is,\nat any rate, lawful and ordained, if it be nothing more. In England,\nwhere the ancient Catholic spirit is again reviving, and a marked\nreturn to the old paths is observable both in and out of the Church,\nthe subject of church music has received an attention and awakened an\namount of investigation second only to that devoted to the dogmas of\nfaith. And we may here remark that this recent study of the church\nchant is in no sense conducted in the spirit of simple antiquarian\nresearch--as it were, to bring to light buried fragments of a\nbeautiful or useful institute characteristic of a former age, for the\nadmiration of the curious--but in the express intent of reinstating\nthe ancient church song to its rightful place in the holy sanctuaries\nof sacrifice and prayer.\n\nThat the Church has no notion of giving up the Gregorian chant, but,\non the contrary, that she earnestly desires its complete restoration\nin those countries where it has fallen into disuse, we hold to be\nentirely beyond question. Whatever concessions to the poverty of\nresources, or to peculiar local circumstances, for the occasional\nuse of modern music, the hierarchy may think it prudent to make, is\na subject for the consideration of those who believe themselves to\nbe in such a position as to need these concessions. What is certain\nis, that the Church by the mouth of her pastors has directed the\nuniversal use of the Gregorian chant, and as universally condemned\nthe use of our modern music.\n\nKnowing, however, that the healing of every sore takes time as\nwell as medicine, we admit that in many places this much-needed\nreformation cannot be instantaneously made. With us in the United\nStates, the clergy, as a body, have but a slight acquaintance, either\ntheoretically or practically, with the church chant; and knowing, as\nwe do from experience, what false and barbaric executions of it they\nhave been condemned to suffer in the course of their ecclesiastical\neducation, and from which they have been naturally led to form\ntheir judgments concerning it, we do not wonder at the wide-spread\nprejudice that exists against its use, and the opposition to its\nintroduction that is met with, even at their hands. That our laity\nhave never given expression to their own sentiments in its regard is\nsimply due to their complete ignorance and total inexperience of the\nwhole subject. All fears, therefore, of offending the people or of\nalienating them from the solemn offices of the Church, on account of\nthe banishment of florid music and the introduction of plain chant,\nare, as yet, groundless.\n\nEsteeming it as a matter of great moment, and urged by oft-repeated\nsolicitations on the part of their hierarchy, the clergy in England\nand Ireland have, for several years past, been devoting their\nenergies to carry out the wishes of their superiors, and devise some\nmeans to ameliorate the condition of church music, acknowledged\nto have, with them as with us, gradually degenerated since the\nReformation of the sixteenth century.\n\nAs far back as 1849, an effort was made, with this end in view, to\nsupply proper singers in the churches, at the head of which was the\nCardinal, then Bishop Wiseman. The vicars-apostolic in synod had\ndecreed, \"Foemine\u00e6 voces ne audiantur in choro,\" hoping to gradually\ninduce a return to the established discipline of the Church. The\npresent Archbishop of Westminster, referring to this in a letter,\nsays,\n\n     \"Unfortunately, this decree has not been carried out. I can only\n     suppose that the causes which brought in this deviation have\n     prevailed to obtain its toleration until such time as we shall be\n     able to do better. A sudden order to remove women singers, while\n     as yet we have no boys trained to take their places, would be\n     inconvenient and inconsiderate. I have not thought it right to\n     issue any such order. But all that I can effect by the strongest\n     expression of desire and persuasion I shall endeavor to effect.\"\n\nIn a circular letter to his clergy, dated May 8th, 1869, the\narchbishop prohibits the employment of women singers in all choirs to\nbe newly formed.\n\nWe can well understand the end had in view by this order for the\nexclusion of female voices _from the choir_. To us it is, in effect,\nan order for the exclusion of all figured music, and the restoration\nof plain chant. The archbishop, however, seems to allow the\npossibility of the composition of \"masses which, while they admit the\nfull compass and perfection of modern musical science, exclude all\nthat is secular or theatrical, by retaining the gravity and majesty\nof our ecclesiastical and sacred tradition.\" This is, however, only\na concession; for he had just before written, \"When once tried by\nexperience, the grave, sweet, majestic, intellectual _music of the\nChurch_ will win all who are now in favor of a less ecclesiastical\nstyle.\"\n\nThe hope expressed by Archbishop Manning, that masses would be\ncomposed for male voices only, and of sufficiently grave character to\nsuit the services of the Church, was suggested, doubtless, by some\nquite respectable essays of this kind made on the Continent, and\noffered to the Congress of Malines at its late sessions, as well by\nthe labors in this direction of the Rev. Canon Oakeley, to whom his\nletter on this subject was addressed. This reverend gentleman has\nbeen the rector of a London parish for eighteen years, and has never\nadmitted a female into his choir, although the perfection of the\nmusical department in his church has received many high encomiums.\nHe supplies the soprano parts by boys' voices, to the cultivation of\nwhich he has devoted a great deal of energy. The character of his\nchurch music is as follows: At High Mass, whatever is _de rigueur_\nfor the Sunday or festival is sung strictly according to the Roman\nGradual, save those parts which may be ranged under the title of\nOrdinarium Miss\u00e6, namely, the Kyrie, Gloria, Credo, Sanctus, and\nAgnus Dei. These portions are not as a rule chosen from the Gregorian\nchant, but are _morceaux_ of selected modern music. His Vesper and\nCompline service is wholly Gregorian, as given in the Vesperale\nRomanum. We believe that, encouraged by his success in this partial\nreformation, many priests in Great Britain have followed his example.\nWe shall have occasion to speak of this matter and give in another\npaper some extracts of the canon's opinion of the feasibility and\neffectiveness of boy singers.\n\nTaking the hint thrown out by his grace the Archbishop of\nWestminster, several skilled musicians have already published\na number of masses, revised and corrected to suit the late\n\"Instructions\" given by the cardinal vicar to Roman composers and\nsingers, with a view to restrain the attempts made even there\nto introduce modern music. We do not pretend to criticise these\nsimplified masses in this place. All we desire to do is to call\nattention to the significance of the movement toward musical\nreformation. Whether second-rate musical compositions are better than\nthe authorized chant, we think is questionable.\n\nThe original masses, composed in the same intent, which competed for\nthe handsome prizes offered by the late Catholic Congress of Malines,\npossess much artistic merit; perhaps a little too much, if intended\nfor popular use.\n\nWholly converted, as we are, in heart and mind, to the exclusive use\nof plain chant, we nevertheless commend these well-meant efforts.\nThey are efforts in the right direction, and similar ones, we doubt\nnot, must be made with us before the ancient discipline of the Church\nconcerning her chant will prevail.\n\nSomething, at least, can be done, and without delay. We cannot see\nwhat possible excuse we have any longer to offer for not singing\nthe Introit, the Gradual, Offertory, and Communion at High Mass.\nThese parts of the Mass are quite as essential, in the mind of the\nChurch, as the Kyrie, the Credo, the Sanctus, or the Agnus Dei. If\nwe are able to procure the execution of most difficult compositions\nfor these latter portions, we are surely quite as well able to\nprocure the chanting of the former. It may be said that, if these now\nneglected parts be sung as they should be, and can only effectively\nbe, in Gregorian chant, it is possible one of these different\nstyles of music would suffer much by contrast with the other. To\nthis we agree; but which one will be the sufferer, our objector and\nourself might think differently. Such a mixture has, however, been\nconsidered, on the whole, preferable by some in England who have\nadopted it. Says a writer in _The Dublin Review_, \"We may remark that\nif it be true that a constant recurrence of the same unison masses,\nSunday after Sunday, would tax the patience of our people, so, on\nthe other hand, that limited round of figured masses to which it has\nbeen the fashion to confine the choirs of almost all our churches,\nis found by experience to be, if any thing, more tiring still.\" The\nwriter adds, \"We ought to _enlarge_ our stock of mass music.\" We\nthink it were better to render passably the stock we already possess.\nHe continues, \"We consider that where success has attended the\nefforts of clergy and choirs, to render the services of the Church\nnoble, edifying, and attractive, it has been by the combination we\nhave described; and to take one instance--it is to this, and to the\necclesiastical feature of a choir of boys and men chanting Vespers,\netc., in their proper place in church, that we attribute the fact\nthat the church over which Canon Oakeley presides has become the\ncentre of so much interest. And when we mention that solemn Vespers\nand Benediction are sung in this Church, on all days of devotion,\nwith as much correctness and beauty as on Sundays, and that a\nconsiderable number of the faithful always assist on such occasions,\nwe shall have given a specimen of the results which may be expected\nto follow elsewhere, if a like arrangement be adopted.\"\n\nWe know that there is always difficulty in changing one's customs,\nbut it is the mark of Catholic zeal never to shrink before any cost\nor sacrifice where plain duty, the glory of God, and the honor of\nthe Holy Church are in question. All must admit that the custom of\nomitting any ceremony or rite essential to the due celebration of\nHigh Mass, or any other function, is a bad custom--a custom to be\ndiscontinued the moment it is in our power to do so. The bishops\nassembled in the late Plenary Council of Baltimore made a special\ndecree concerning the due performance of the Vesper service. What\ndifficulty is there here in obeying this decree both in its letter\nand spirit? There are enough books already published to supply the\nsingers with the proper music for the entire service. Harmonized\nversions of the psalms, antiphons, and anthems have been made for\nthe use of those singers and organists who are, as yet, ignorant\nof plain chant, and accustomed only to modern musical notation.\nIf any thing be wanting in these, the demand for better and more\nconvenient books would soon be met with the supply. Apart from their\nopenly profane character, we do not see what possible plea can be\nput in for singing what is called \"Musical Vespers\"--for the most\npart, musical performances in which it would be wholly impossible to\nrecognize the Vesper office, as strictly ordained and enjoined by the\nChurch. The office of Vespers, according to the Roman rite, is what\nwe are supposed to sing. We do not hesitate to say that no \"Musical\nVespers\" ever sung in this country were in conformity to that rite.\nWere we to announce that fact to our music-loving Protestant friends,\nwho frequent our churches at Vesper time, to enjoy the beautiful\n\"Vesper service,\" it might possibly prove a little startling; and if\nthey were at the pains to inquire of what character the service was\nwhich they saw and heard, what answer could we honestly make, but\nthat it was a musical performance of garbled portions of the Vesper\noffice, gotten up to answer for the same, with a view of pleasing the\naudience? Not only in High Mass, then, but also in Vespers, there is\nsome amelioration possible to all, the results of which will not only\nbring our Church services more into conformity with the spirit of the\nUniversal Church, and the decrees concerning the due celebration of\ndivine worship issued by our hierarchy, but we are fully assured will\nprove most acceptable to the faithful, and contribute no little to\ntheir edification.\n\nWe have indulged in the foregoing somewhat desultory remarks before\nentering upon the special purpose of this paper, in hopes to direct\nthe attention of our readers to the gravity of the subject in\nquestion, and to show that we are very far from being singular in its\ndiscussion. Whatever may be the merits of our modern music, and they\ncertainly are of a very high order, when considered from the point of\nartistic combination, and the expression of certain sentiments of the\nsoul, we hold, nevertheless, that the Gregorian chant is the _true\nsong of the Catholic Church_. That it deserves this title on the\nscore of authority, which has distinctly and universally sanctioned\nit, we think we have sufficiently proved; and as well that other\nmusic has been as distinctly condemned and rejected. We desire now\nto examine the character of the church chant, in its more intimate\nrelations with the ritual, and its unrivalled religious expression,\nthat its intrinsic merits may be more clearly understood and more\nheartily appreciated.\n\nIn the first place, the Church never enjoins any thing without good\nreason; and her reasons are grounded not only in the conclusions of\nhuman science, but in the perceptions of a divine inspiration. We do\nnot hesitate to give the title of \"divine\" to her sacred Liturgy and\nOffice, because we believe they were compiled with the assistance\nof the Holy Ghost. Is it unreasonable to suppose that her chant,\nproceeding, as it does, from the same source, the work of the same\nhands and hearts to whom she committed the labor of the composition\nand compilation of the words, and together accepted by her, should\nhave had the same divine aid? The question is well put by one who\nhas devoted much time and thought to the subject of church music:\n\n     \"Can we believe that the divine assistance can have failed her so\n     far that her work, a discordant jumble of notes, should not be\n     fit to be sung by us in our country and century? How different\n     were the feelings and the belief of the people during the ages of\n     faith! The monks and other holy men who wrote those sacred chants,\n     set themselves to work sometimes after months of holy meditation\n     and of watching, of fasting and of prayer; and then they composed\n     those melodies, so little appreciated now, because so little\n     known; but to the correct religious taste of our pious ancestors\n     in the faith, so full of heavenly harmony that they sometimes\n     thought, and not always without reason, the angels themselves had\n     dictated them.\"[145]\n\nThat the Gregorian chant is yet, as it was in former times, the true\nmusical expression of her Divine Office, and of those portions of the\nliturgy of the Holy Mass, and various public functions, appointed\nto be sung, is plain from the fact that, in despite of all the\ndevelopment of the _musica ficta_ in the hands and with the influence\nof its composers and lovers, the Church still obstinately adheres to\nthose ancient melodies. What can we say but that, as the Church is\nthe best judge of her own language of prayer and praise, so she must\nequally as well be of the form of its expression?\n\nBut, as we said before, the Church never acts without reason. If\nshe accepts this form of chant in the first place, it is because\nsuch a form of melody is appropriate, and well becoming her inspired\nlanguage of prayer. If she retains it through so many ages, and has\nno thought of changing it now, it is because the same reason still\nholds good.\n\nOne of the most remarkable points in the character of the Gregorian\nchant is the fact that it has partaken, possibly by association,\nof the \"perennial freshness\" which is so strongly marked in the\ncelebration of the rites and ceremonies of the Church. To every\npeople, of all ages and countries, these rites and ceremonies\npossess a dramatic power of the highest order. Ancient yet ever new,\nthey never weary by repetition as fast and festival recur in the\necclesiastical year. On this an English writer says,\n\n     \"The very ruggedness of the Gregorian modes serves to impart to\n     them a character of durability. These simple melodies, as we well\n     know from the instance of the Vesper Psalms, to mention no other,\n     somehow never pall upon the ear, and have, in fact, a perennial\n     freshness which we can only account for by the circumstance of\n     their having a variety of scale which modern melodies do not\n     possess. This, too, is proved by the well-known fact that the most\n     beautiful chants of the modern school (and we ourselves are fain\n     to add also the most beautiful motets, Anthems, Glorias, Credos,\n     etc.) become unendurable by constant repetition; and for this\n     reason we find that even dissenters have been fain to adopt the\n     old chant in their services.\"\n\nThis is, to say the least, a very strong practical confirmation of\nthe wisdom of the Holy Church in preserving a treasure so precious\nthat even time does not waste it, or use tarnish its beauty.\n\nA second reason assigned by the same writer, we give for what it is\nworth. It possesses, indeed, no little _vraisemblance_:\n\n     \"We may look upon it in its plaintive if not mournful character\n     in fact, as a kind of _pilgrim's song_, by which it would seem as\n     if the Church would have us remember, even in the midst of our\n     festal joys, that we are the '_Exules filii Hev\u00e6, gementes et\n     flentes in h\u00e2c lacrymarum valle_.' It is, we may say, the grave,\n     sweet, pathetic note which the Church puts into the mouths of\n     her children, lamenting with the Psalmist that 'their sojourning\n     is prolonged;' the plaintive accent in which they confess that\n     they are strangers upon earth, and that they 'seek another, even\n     a heavenly city.' And so Father Faber sings in his well-known\n     hymn--itself a kind of wayfarer's song--\n\n         'While we toil on, and soothe ourselves with weeping,\n         Till life's long night shall break in endless love.'\"\n\nThis is by no means a quaint conception of modern fancy. St.\nPaschasius Radpert, a monk of the abbey of Old Corby, who lived about\nthe year 800, says,\n\n     \"There is no song to be found without a tone of sadness in it;\n     even as here below there are no joys without a mixture of sorrow;\n     for songs of pure joy belong only to the heavenly Sion, but\n     lamentation is the property of our earthly pilgrimage.\"\n\nTo us, however, the Gregorian chant is the true song of the Church,\nchiefly because it is essentially choral in character; by which\nwe mean that its melodies, so simple in construction, so massive\nin form, and its grave and majestic rhythm, fit it eminently for\nexecution by large bodies of singers, called in church parlance the\n_schola_, or choir.\n\nIn the discipline of the early church it was supposed that all the\ncongregation of the faithful present at the Holy Sacrifice responded\nto the salutations and solemn invitations of the priest at the altar\nto unite with him in prayer and acts of adoration. We have before us\na very old reproduction of an ancient manuscript, entitled, ~H\u00ea\ntheia leitourgia tou hagiou apostolou Petrou~, _Missa Apostolica;\nseu, Divinum Sacrificium S. Apostoli Petri_, which purports, and on\ngood authority, to be the Mass of St. Peter. At the close of the\nOffertory, we read as follows; we quote the Latin version given side\nby side with the Greek:\n\n     \"_Deinde sacerdos voce clara dicit._\n\n     \"Dominus vobiscum.\n\n     \"_Populus._ Et cum spiritu tuo.\n\n     \"_Sacerdos._ Oremus.\n\n     \"_Populus._ Domine, miserere, _ter_.\n\n     \"_Tum sacerdos alta voce._\n\n     \"Pr\u00e6be, Domine, servis tuis, dexteram coelestis auxilii, ut te\n     toto corde perquirant, et qu\u00e6 dign\u00e8 postulant consequantur. Per\n     Dominum nostrum Jesum Christum, cum quo vivis et regnas Deus\n     noster in unitate Spiritus sancti, in s\u00e6cula.\n\n     \"_Populus._ Amen. Sanctus Deus, sanctus fortis. _Et interea dum\n     populus dicit hymnum ter sanctum, precatur sacerdos._ (Various\n     prayers here follow, closing with the Lavabo.)\n\n     \"_Mox sacerdos clara voce._\n\n     \"Dominus vobiscum.\n\n     \"_Populus._ Et cum spiritu tuo.\n\n     \"_Sacerdos._ Ostia, ostia. (Alluding to the closing of the doors\n     and departure of the catechumens.)\n\n     \"_Populus._ Credo in unum Deum, etc.\n\n     \"_Sacerdos._ Stemus honeste; stemus cum reverentia, etc.\n\n     \"_Populus._ Misericordiam; pacem.\n\n     \"_Sacerdos, alta voce._ Hostiam tibi Domine destinatam in\n     oblationem sanctifica, et per eam nos clementer suscipe, per\n     Dominum, etc., per omnia s\u00e6cula s\u00e6culorum.\n\n     \"_Populus._ Amen.\n\n     \"_Sacerdos._ Sursum corda.\n\n     \"_Populus._ Habemus ad Dominum.\n\n     \"_Sacerdos._ Gratiarum actiones submittamus, Domino Deo nostro.\n\n     \"_Populus._ Dignum et justum est.\"\n\nThe priest continues to chant the preface. At the close of it the\npeople sing the Sanctus, and answer _Amen_ when the priest has\npronounced the words of consecration. The entire _Pater noster_\nis given to the people, and they respond to the usual salutations\nmade after the communion. A side rubrical note, referring to the\nparts assigned to the populus or people, says, \"_Populi vox est et\ncantorum_.\"\n\nThis manner of celebrating High Mass will seem to many of our readers\nas strange and obsolete; but such is precisely the manner in which\none can yet hear the Holy Sacrifice in many towns and villages on\nthe continent of Europe, in the year of our Lord eighteen hundred\nand sixty-nine; and we need hardly say with what sublime and\nsoul-stirring effect.\n\nWe do not think it at all probable that this old form of\ncongregational accompaniment of the Mass ever can be universally\nrevived. Yet it must be acknowledged that no more complete,\nintelligent, or edifying expression of the Great Eucharistic Rite\ncould possibly be desired.\n\n     \"Shall we ever see the day,\" asks a writer in the old _Dublin\n     Review_, \"when, on entering a Catholic church during service\n     time, we shall be struck, not with the dampening spectacle of a\n     congregation partly composed of unbelievers in the act of enjoying\n     the pleasure of a Sunday concert, while the remainder, with\n     closed books in their lap, or by their side, wait patiently or\n     impatiently till the prolonged and a hundred times repeated _Amen_\n     of the Gloria or the Creed deigns to come to an end, but with the\n     refreshing sight of an unmixed body of true worshippers, learned\n     and ignorant, high and low, rich and poor, unostentatiously led by\n     a select choir, engaged in heartily singing the praises of Him in\n     whose house they are assembled? To so consoling and truly Catholic\n     a state of things should all our reforms tend; for it will only\n     be when it is established that we shall be able to taste the\n     sweetness, as well as delight in the beauty and feel the grandeur\n     of that congregational singing which so many desire, but which is\n     incompatible with an encouragement in churches of the music of\n     _Don Giovanni_, _Fidelio_, _Lodoiska_, _Il Barbi\u00e8re_, and _Faust_.\"\n\nWere this revival of congregational singing in the mind of the\nChurch, there could be no question about the form of melody to be\napplied. No one would think of looking elsewhere than to plain chant\nas the only practical and fitting resource in that event.\n\nBut, as in past times there was always the select _schola_ or choir\nto whom the choral selections of the divine offices were committed,\nso at the present day it would seem to be that which the Church aims\nmainly at preserving. Indeed, as Dr. Lootens well observes, the\nvery architectural dispositions of our churches, when constructed\naccording to the ritual, suppose such a body of singers, who, being\nthe coadjutors of the sacred ministers, are supposed to possess a\nquasi-ecclesiastical character, and appear in the sanctuary properly\nvested as _clerici_, or clerks, and whose demeanor, as well as\nsinging, is of that grave and decorous character which beseems the\nhouse of God and the presence of the Holy Sacrament. The learned\nprelate says:\n\n     \"A Protestant meeting-house is built to preach in; the nearer the\n     minister is to the people, the better he is heard. _Our_ churches\n     are, first of all, places of worship. Nothing so affects the\n     visitor who enters one of our churches in the old country as the\n     mysterious depth of their sanctuaries. We allude here not merely\n     to the Gothic cathedrals, but to all kind of churches, no matter\n     to what particular order of architecture they belong. Architects,\n     in those ancient times, would as soon have thought of planning a\n     church without a chancel, (choir,) as of building one without a\n     roof.\"\n\nWe also might well say that when any Catholic from the Continent\nvisits Protestant England and enters one of those ancient cathedrals,\nonce the glory and pride of Catholic England, now fallen into the\nhands of strangers who know not their meaning nor sacred uses; and\nwhen he sees those mysteriously deep sanctuaries, whose stalls are\nno longer filled, as of yore, with the devout white-robed clerics,\nor it may be with cowled monks, chanting the divine hours of prayer,\nor responding to the sacrificing priest, but with a few fashionably\ndressed ladies and gentlemen looking at each other across the\nonce consecrated place, hallowed by the footsteps of saints, and\npraying to be delivered \"from all error, heresy, and schism,\" (save\nthe mark!) what an indescribable pain must wring his soul; how\ninvoluntarily the plaintive words of the Psalmist must rise upon his\nlips, \"_Super flumina Babylonis, illic sedimus, et flevimus, cum\nrecordaremur Sion!_\"\n\nYet, let him come to our land and visit _our Catholic_ churches--but\nwe anticipate; it is not of the proper place for the choir, but of\nthe choir itself we wish to speak.\n\nA select choir of clerks, or singers vested in cassock and surplice,\nwho, ranged in the sanctuary, chant _in chorus_ the Asperges, the\nIntroit, Kyrie, Gloria, Gradual, Credo, Offertory, Sanctus, Agnus\nDei, Communion, and the responses of High Mass, and the antiphons,\npsalms, versicles, etc., at Vespers, is what the ritual supposes and\nexpressly demands. A choir of mixed voices gathered in a gallery\nat the extreme end of the church, either hidden behind curtains or\nexposed to view, has neither been ever supposed or sanctioned by the\nritual, much less the omission of nearly one half of what is ordered\nto be sung. When we look at the actual state of things as they are\nin vogue amongst us, and honestly look the ritual of the Holy Church\nin the face, does not our memory sometimes remind us of the reproach\nof Almighty God to the negligent priests of the old law?--\"_Non\nservastis pr\u00e6cepta sanctuarii mei_;\" a reflection which is not ours,\nbut very pertinently made by the zealous American bishop whose words\nwe have already quoted.\n\nIf, as has been well said, \"Our present defective knowledge and\nappreciation of the liturgy is one of the indications of an enfeebled\nfaith among a Catholic people,\" so we do not hesitate to affirm that\na reasonable knowledge of, and constant participation in the divine\noffices of the Church is practically necessary to an intelligent\nfaith in the great mysteries of religion, and the only means of\nkeeping alive and nourishing true Catholic devotion. Prayer said in\nunion with the Church is both the light of the understanding and the\nfire of divine love for the heart.\n\nOne of the directors of the seminary of St. Sulpice, in Paris, in a\nrecent publication, entitled, _Le Saint Office consid\u00e9r\u00e9 au point de\nVue de la Pi\u00e9t\u00e9_, significantly remarks:\n\n     \"Quand on voit la pi\u00e9t\u00e9 se refroidir en tant d'endroits, il est\n     naturel de craindre qu'on ne l'envoque le bon Dieu avec tant de\n     ferveur, que le feu sacr\u00e9 ne languisse dans son sanctuaire. C'est\n     le moment de se demander si les adorateurs ne seraient devenus\n     plus froids en devenant plus rares, _si le silence des temples n'a\n     pas amen\u00e9 le sommeil des \u00e2mes_.\"\n\n     When one sees piety growing cold in so many places, it is but\n     reasonable to fear that God is invoked with so little fervor\n     because the sacred fire is dying out in his sanctuary. It is time\n     to ask ourselves if the worshippers have not become less devout\n     in becoming less attentive at the services of the church; if the\n     silence of our temples of religion has not brought on the sleep of\n     souls.\n\nThe slightest examination of the offices of the Church will show\nhow well they are adapted to instruction in doctrine, and for the\nillustration of the Gospel record and the historic acts and interior\nlife of Christianity. We have not the time in this place, nor is it\nnecessary, to adduce proofs of this. They whose interest in this\nmatter we aim at arousing have a daily reminder of its truth.\n\nThat these holy offices are the fountain-head of solid, popular\ndevotion is equally indisputable. We have nothing to replace them,\nnor do we care to have. We have plenty of so-called \"popular\ndevotions,\" admirably adapted for their special purposes; but it\nmust be confessed that _popular devotion_ is far below that standard\nof spirituality which the Church aims at inspiring; and which it is\nnot only possible to attain, but which in ages gone by, whose grade\nof refinement and intellectual culture we affect to despise, was\nthe normal standard of Catholic piety. From whence did the people\ndraw this strong and healthy nourishment of the spiritual life? The\nanswer will be found in the fact that the people were educated from\nchildhood in the liturgy, and they were not, as now, for the most\npart spectators, but participators at the celebration of the solemn,\ninstructive, and devout offices of the Church.\n\nThe accomplished author of the remarkable work on _Christian Schools\nand Scholars_ thus writes:\n\n     \"The fact is that, in one respect, the rude, ignorant peasantry\n     of the middle ages were a great deal more learned than the pupils\n     of our modern schools. In a certain sort of way, every child was\n     rendered familiar with the language of the Church. From infancy\n     they were taught to recite their prayers, the antiphons, and many\n     parts of the ritual of the Church, in Latin, and to understand the\n     meaning of what they learnt; and hence they became familiar with a\n     great number of Latin words, so that a Latin discourse would sound\n     far less strange in their ears than in those of a more educated\n     audience of the same class in the present day. In many cases,\n     indeed, the children who were taught in the priest's, or parochial\n     school, learned grammar, that is--the Latin language; but all were\n     required to learn the church chant, and a considerable number of\n     Latin prayers, and hymns, and psalms. This point of poor-school\n     education deserves more than a passing notice. Its result was,\n     that the lower classes were able thoroughly to understand and\n     heartily to take part in the rites and offices of Holy Church.\n     The faith rooted itself in their hearts with a tenacity which was\n     not easily destroyed, even by penal laws, because they imbibed\n     it from its fountain source--the Church herself. She taught her\n     children out of her own ritual, and by her own voice, and made\n     them believers after a different fashion from those much more\n     highly educated Catholics of the same class who, in our day,\n     often grow up almost as much strangers to the liturgical language\n     of the Church as the mass of unbelievers outside the fold. Can\n     there be any incongruity more grievous than to enter a Catholic\n     school, rich in every appliance of education, and to find that,\n     in spite of the time, money, and method lavished on its support,\n     its pupils are unable to understand and recite the church offices,\n     and are untrained to take part in church psalmody? The language\n     of the Church has, therefore, in a very literal sense, become\n     a dead language to them, and it is from other and far inferior\n     sources that they derive their religious instruction. Thus they\n     are ignorant of a large branch of school education, in which the\n     children of a ruder and darker age were thoroughly trained; no\n     doubt, on the other hand, they know a great many things of which\n     children in the middle ages were altogether ignorant; and the\n     question is simply to determine which method of instruction has\n     most practical utility in it. Without dogmatizing on this point,\n     we may be permitted to regret that through any defect in the\n     system of our parochial schools, Catholic congregations should in\n     our own days be deprived of the solemn and thorough celebrations\n     of those sacred offices which in themselves comprise a body of\n     unequalled religious instruction; and that, in an age which makes\n     so much of the theory of education, we should have to confess our\n     inability to teach our children to pray and sing the prayers of\n     the Church as the children of Catholic peasants prayed and sang\n     them six hundred years ago. The English schools of that period\n     enjoyed the benefit of no other inspection than that of the parish\n     priest and the archdeacon, 'the eye of the bishop,' as he was\n     called; and if their pupils knew little about 'monocotyledons,'\n     the 'crustacea,' or grammatical analysis, they were able to recite\n     their Alma Redemptoris and their Dixit Dominus with hearty,\n     _intelligent_ devotion.[146] They knew the order of the church\n     service, and could sing its psalms and antiphons in the language\n     of the church, and to her ancient tones.\"\n\nThe last words of this most interesting extract will spare us the\ntrouble of insisting at any great length upon the point chiefly in\nquestion. The sacred offices of the Church, to whose due celebration\nand to their intelligent participation in them the faith and piety of\nour ancestors is in great measure to be ascribed, and the peculiar\nand inimitable melodies, yet, happily, undivorced from their language\nof prayer, ever formed one inseparable whole.\n\nA revival of those offices in the spirit of their ancient fidelity\nto the ritual is, as all must allow, a revival of Gregorian chant.\nThe project of substituting in its place a selection of solos,\nduets, etc., either culled from threadbare compositions of the\ntwo last centuries, notorious for their sensuousness of style and\nover-wrought \"word-painting,\" or such melodies of the modern schools\nas our present masters are able to produce, would be unhesitatingly\nridiculed on all sides.\n\nFar be it from us to be guilty of the presumption of questioning the\nwisdom of the Church in permitting to the clergy the individual and\nprivate recitation of the Divine Office; but it is beyond dispute\nthat so much of it as is enjoined to be performed publicly, _in\nchoir_, on Sundays and festivals, is not absolved by the _bravura_\nsinging of some \"choice musical selections\" in an organ-gallery,\nand the private recitation of the real office meanwhile by a lonely\ncelebrant in the sanctuary. Moreover, the people are thereby greatly\nhindered in their devotions and deprived utterly of the spiritual\nfruit the sacred office so abundantly affords. If we gave the people\na chance, we would very soon see how joyfully they would sing their\nCredo, and heartily chant their Dixit Dominus, as of old. \"I do\nnot like the Vespers in ---- street,\" a well-instructed servant\nwas lately overheard to say; \"it is nothing but a concert of four\nopera-singers, and I'm all astray while it's going on. Nobody seems\nto make it out but the Protestant ladies and gentlemen, who do\nnothing but talk about it all the time. Give me the singing at Father\n----'s church, where all the clergy sing, and where I can sing in the\nTantum Ergo myself at benediction, if I like.\"\n\nWhat we are arguing for is a strict, rubrical celebration of High\nMass and Vespers, the two public offices enjoined upon the clergy\nin this country. When the rubrics for these offices are observed to\nthe letter, we shall have no fear for the fate of plain chant, which\nhas proved itself by the experience of so many centuries to be the\nonly adequate and satisfying expression of the spirit of prayer that\nbreathes through all the solemn ritual service of the Holy Church.\n\nThe words of the pious and erudite Benedictine monk, Dom Gueranger,\nAbbot of Solesmes, are again ringing in our ears. We cannot refrain\nfrom closing our article with a quotation from the preface to his\n_Liturgical Year_, the beauty of which will be a sufficient apology\nfor its length:\n\n     \"The prayer of the Church is the most pleasing to the ear and\n     heart of God, and therefore the most efficacious of all prayers.\n     Happy, then, is he who prays with the Church, and unites his\n     own petitions with those of this Spouse, who is so dear to her\n     Lord that he gives her all she asks. It was for this reason that\n     our Blessed Saviour taught us to say _our Father_, and not _my\n     Father_; _give us, forgive us, deliver us_, and not _give me,\n     forgive me, deliver me_. Hence, we find that, for upward of a\n     thousand years, the Church, who prays in her temples seven times\n     in the day, and once again during the night, did not pray alone.\n     The people kept her company, and fed themselves with delight\n     on the manna which is hidden under the words and mysteries of\n     the divine liturgy. Thus initiated into the sacred cycle of the\n     mysteries of the Christian year, the faithful, attentive to the\n     teachings of the Spirit, came to know the secrets of eternal\n     life; and without any further preparation, a Christian was not\n     unfrequently chosen by the bishops to be a priest, or even a\n     bishop, that he might go and pour out on the people the treasures\n     of wisdom and love which he had drunk in at the very fountain-head.\n\n     \"But for now many past ages, Christians have grown too solicitous\n     about earthly things to frequent the holy _vigils_ and the\n     mystical _hours_ of the day. Long before the rationalism of the\n     sixteenth century became the auxiliary of the heresies of that\n     period by curtailing the solemnity of the divine service, the\n     days for the people's uniting exteriorly with the prayer of the\n     church had been reduced to Sundays and festivals. During the rest\n     of the year, the solemn and imposing grandeur of the liturgy\n     was gone through, and the people took no share in it. Each\n     new generation increased in indifference for that which their\n     forefathers in the faith had loved as their best and strongest\n     food. Social prayer was made to give way to individual devotion.\n     Chanting, which is the natural expression of the prayers and even\n     of the sorrows of the Church, became limited to the solemn feasts.\n     That was the first sad revolution in the Christian world.\n\n     \"But even then Christendom was still rich in churches and\n     monasteries, and there, day and night, was still heard the sound\n     of the same venerable prayers which the Church had used through\n     all the past ages. So many hands lifted up to God drew down upon\n     the earth the dew of heaven, averted storms, and won victory for\n     those who were in battle. These servants of God, who thus kept up\n     an untiring choir that sang the divine praises, were considered\n     as solemnly deputed by the people, which was still Catholic, to\n     pay the full tribute of homage and thanksgiving due to God, his\n     Blessed Mother, and the saints. These prayers formed a treasury\n     which belonged to all. The faithful gladly united themselves in\n     spirit to what was done. When any affliction, or the desire to\n     obtain a special favor, led them to the house of God, they were\n     sure to hear, no matter at what hour they went, that untiring\n     voice of prayer which was for ever ascending to heaven for the\n     salvation of mankind. At times they would give up their worldly\n     business and cares, and take part in the office of the church, and\n     all still understood, at least in a general way, the mysteries of\n     the liturgy.\n\n     \"Then came the _Reformation_, and, at the onset, it attacked the\n     very life of Christianity--it would put an end to the sacrifice of\n     man's praise of his God. It strewed many countries with the ruins\n     of churches; the clergy, the monks, and virgins consecrated to\n     God were banished or put to death; and in the churches which were\n     spared the divine offices were not permitted. In other countries,\n     where the persecution was not so violent, many sanctuaries were\n     devastated and irremediably ruined, so that the life and voice of\n     prayer grew faint. Faith, too, was weakened; rationalism became\n     fearfully developed; and now our own age seems threatened with\n     what is the result of these evils--the subversion of all social\n     order.\n\n     \"For, when the Reformation had abated the violence of its\n     persecution, it had other weapons wherewith to attack the Church.\n     By these, several countries, which continued to be Catholic, were\n     infected with that spirit of pride which is the enemy of prayer.\n     The modern spirit would have it that _prayer is not action_--as\n     though every good action done by man were not a gift of God; a\n     gift which implies two prayers: one of petition, that it may be\n     granted; and another of thanksgiving, because it is granted! There\n     were found men who said, _Let us abolish all the festival days of\n     God from the earth_; and then came upon us that calamity which\n     brings all others with it, and which the good Mardochai besought\n     God to avert from his nation, when he said, _Shut not, O Lord, the\n     mouths of them that sing to thee!_\n\n     \"But, by the mercy of God, _we have not been consumed_; there have\n     been left remnants of Israel; and the number of believers in the\n     Lord has increased. What is it that has moved the heart of our\n     God to bring about this merciful conversion? Prayer, which had\n     been interrupted, has been resumed. Numerous choirs of virgins\n     consecrated to God, and, though far less in number, of men who\n     have left the world to spend themselves in the divine praises,\n     make _the voice of the turtle-dove heard in our land_. This voice\n     is every day gaining more power; may it find acceptance from\n     our Lord, and move him to show the sign of his covenant with\n     us, the rainbow of reconciliation! May our venerable cathedrals\n     again re\u00ebcho those solemn formul\u00e6 of prayer which heresy has so\n     long suppressed! May the faith and munificence of the faithful\n     reproduce the prodigies of those past ages, which owed their\n     greatness to the acknowledgment, which all, even the very civic\n     authorities, paid to the all-powerfulness of prayer!\n\n     \"For a long time a remedy has been devised for an evil which was\n     only vaguely felt. The spirit of prayer, and even prayer itself,\n     has been sought for in methods, and prayer-books, which contain,\n     it is true, laudable, yea pious thoughts, but, after all, only\n     human thoughts. Such nourishment cannot satisfy the soul, for it\n     does not initiate her into the prayer of the Church. Instead of\n     uniting her with the prayer of the Church it isolates her. Of this\n     kind are so many of those collections of prayers and reflections\n     which have been published, under different titles, during the\n     last two hundred years, and by which it was intended to edify the\n     faithful, and suggest to them, either for hearing mass, or going\n     to the sacraments, or keeping the feasts of the church, certain\n     more or less commonplace considerations and acts, always drawn up\n     according to the manner of thought and sentiment peculiar to the\n     author of each book. Each manual had consequently its own way of\n     treating these important subjects. To Christians already formed\n     to piety, such books as these would, indeed, serve a purpose,\n     especially as nothing better was offered to them; but they had not\n     influence sufficient to inspire with a relish and spirit of prayer\n     such as had not otherwise received them.\n\n     \"But this liturgical prayer would soon become powerless were the\n     faithful not to take a real share in it, or, at least, not to\n     associate themselves to it in heart. It can heal and save the\n     world, but only on the condition that it be understood. Be wise,\n     then, ye children of the Catholic Church, and get that largeness\n     of heart which will make you pray the prayer of your mother. Come,\n     and buy your share in it, fill up that harmony which is so sweet\n     to the ear of God. Where would you obtain the spirit of prayer if\n     not at its natural source? Let us remind you of the exhortation\n     of the apostle to the first Christians: _Let the peace of Christ\n     rejoice in your hearts--let the word of Christ dwell in you\n     abundantly, in all wisdom; teaching and admonishing one another in\n     psalms, hymns, and spiritual canticles, singing in grace in your\n     hearts to God_.\"\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[145] Introduction to _Extracts from the Roman Gradual and other\nLiturgical Books_, in course of publication by the Rt. Rev. Louis\nLootens, D.D.\n\n[146] St. Godric is said to have learned (in a poor school at Durham)\nmany things of which he was before ignorant, \"by hearing, reading,\nand _chanting_ them.\" In the parochial schools, even from St.\nDunstan's time, children of the lower orders were taught grammar and\n_church music_. Schools of greater or less pretensions were attached\nto most parish churches, and the scholars assembled in the porch.\nThus, in 1300, we read of children being taught to _sing_ and read\nin the porch of St. Martin's, Norwich. At Stoke-by-Clare there was,\nbesides the extensive college, a school in which boys were taught\n\"grammar, _singing_, and good manners.\" To which answer the pictures\nin Chaucer of the schools in which children were taught,\n\n    \"That is to say, to singe and to rede,\n    As small children do in their childhede.\"\n\nAgain:\n\n    \"As he sate in the scole at his primere,\n    He Alma Redemptoris heard sing,\" etc.\n\n\n\n\nHINTS ON HOUSEKEEPING\n\nBY A GRANDMOTHER.\n\n\nTo one who has long been accustomed to a retired and solitary life,\nan occasional glimpse of the busy world and its ways, a peep \"through\nthe loopholes of the retreat,\" has a relish and an interest scarcely\nto be appreciated by the actual participants in the turmoil and\nbustle of those scenes.\n\nIn the quiet routine of rural life, undisturbed by great excitements,\nand to a great measure removed from the influences of stirring\nevents, it is almost impossible to keep pace with the changes that\nare constantly taking place in the great outer world. I think this\nmust be more especially true of our American society than of any\nother nation. We are such a restless race, so impatient of monotony,\nso eager for excitement and variety, that what is most in vogue\nto-day is forgotten to-morrow, and the most earnest pursuits of the\npresent are liable to be rapidly superseded by others of a widely\ndifferent nature.\n\nAfter an absence of only a few months from the social circle with\nwhich it is my delight occasionally to mingle, I often find myself\nmuch in the predicament of poor Rip Van Winkle, after his long repose\nin \"Sleepy Hollow,\" and dare not, upon my reappearance, open my lips\nuntil I have listened long enough to catch the key-note, as it were,\nof the topics at present engaging attention, lest my remarks and\ninquiries may appear as ill-timed and excite as much surprise as did\nthose of that redoubtable victim of vagrancy and the broomstick.\n\nAmong all the changes that have come over our American world, since\nwe who are now grandmothers could call ourselves young, there are\nnone more utterly astounding--perhaps because, having long claimed\nour careful attention, they are more familiar and interesting to\nus--than those embraced in the household and home economy. Now,\nalthough I am not disposed to undervalue the improvements of modern\ntimes, or to decry the advance of modern ideas in other departments,\nI am wholly unwilling to yield the palm to modern housekeeping. In\nspite of every advantage furnished by the superior appliances of\nthese days, and every facility offered by the inventive genius of\nour people in labor-saving machinery adapted to each department\nof domestic life, I insist that our housekeepers are inferior in\nall the qualities that contribute to the comfort of home to their\nmothers, and that their mothers were less efficient than their\ngrandmothers. There has been a gradual but steady decline in the art\nof housekeeping, and a more rapid but equally constant increase in\nthe expense thereof. Indeed, this last item looms up in dimensions\nand glares upon us with an aspect nothing less than appalling to\ndames like myself, who cherish antiquated notions on these subjects.\n\n\"Henry, why in the world do you not marry?\" I said the other day\nto a highly-esteemed young friend, whom I had known from his\nchildhood, and who is richly endowed, as I well know, with every\nquality necessary to make a home happy. \"Why in the world do you\nnot marry? It is a positive wrong to society, that so much domestic\nvirtue as you possess should remain unappropriated. You are now well\nestablished in business, with every prospect of success, and you\nreally ought to be thinking of making a home for yourself.\"\n\n\"I wish I dare indulge such an aspiration,\" he replied with something\nvery like a regretful sigh; \"but, to tell you the truth, such a step\nas taking a wife to myself under my present circumstances would\nbe ruinous. My business is indeed, as you say, well established,\nand--within certain, not very extensive, limits--prosperous. By close\nattention and strict fidelity to its interests, diligent industry,\nand careful economy, I realize annually a very comfortable income;\nnot large, but, under these conditions, quite sure; as years advance,\nthis will probably increase slowly and surely. Now, if I were to\nmarry, just imagine what a load of expense would be incurred at once!\nYou know as well as I the manner of life I should be required to\nadopt, by any young lady of the class among whom I should look for a\nwife; and I really am not in a position to incur such a burden now,\nnor can I hope to be for a long time to come.\"\n\nThis was said in a tone of despondency and deep feeling, and I could\nnot but sympathize with my young friend, compelled thus reluctantly\nto suppress the dearest aspirations of youth; nor could I avoid\ndeploring the exigencies that constrain the greater portion of worthy\nyoung men in our country, to relinquish the hope of a happy home of\ntheir own, which would be their strongest stimulant to exertion and\ntheir best shield against temptation.\n\nIt is long since I have been in the habit of witnessing the gambols\nof the gay world; but I happened not long since to peep in upon\na sort of fandango at the house of one of my friends, and, bless\nmy heart, what costumes! My surprise would beggar description. I\nhappened to be standing near the mistress of the house, and remarked\nto her that I was not aware this was to be a _fancy party_.\n\n\"And it is not,\" she replied.\n\n\"But you do not mean to tell me,\" I exclaimed in dismay, \"that these\nare the ordinary costumes for full dress at parties?\"\n\n\"Of course they are. Why not?\" she very innocently answered.\n\nI ventured no further remark or inquiry, but retired with my own\nquiet cogitations into a silent corner. Presently a sprightly young\nlady of whom I am very fond, and who is foolish enough to cherish\na great fancy for me, came tripping up to my retreat, her face all\nshining with gayety and goodness. \"Tell me, my dear,\" said I, \"why\nyou young ladies wear your pockets outside your dress, and in such\nan inconvenient place, and why you wear your skirts pinned up at a\nparty, just as we used to wear them when about our housework?\"\n\n\"Oh! those are not our pockets; they are _paniers_; and it is the\npresent style to loop up the skirts this way.\"\n\n\"But, my child, can you tell me how many superfluous yards of silk\nare required to make skirts in this way, and to furnish these\nfestoons?\"\n\n\"We do not count by yards,\" said she, laughing; \"but this is not an\nexpensive dress. It cost only _eighty dollars_, the making and all!\"\nAnd she glided away to join her young companions. So much for the\nphilosophy of a young girl in a simple country village!\n\n\"No wonder,\" thought I, \"that Harry does not dare to marry!\"\n\nNow here was this dear girl--lovely, accomplished, beautiful,\nintelligent, and fascinating--a perfect charm in society, after her\nfashion; but a wife? Why a man might as well marry a butterfly!\n\nThere is certainly something sadly \"out of joint\" in the times. The\njarring and jolting of domestic machinery betrays loose screws, if\nnot more fatal defects, somewhere in its construction. The subject\nis attracting general attention, eliciting general complaint, and\ncalling forth the best energies of many minds in its discussion. Much\ntalent has been engaged in the consideration of evils and defects,\nwhich it is asserted pervade every branch of domestic economy and\nevery part of society. Remedial measures which have recently been\nproposed are also attracting much notice.\n\nNot long ago a learned judge, lamenting the modern defects in female\neducation, concluded with the consoling remark, \"Yes, our girls are\nbadly educated; but our boys will never find it out!\"\n\nAh my learned friend! you see our young Henrys, though they may not\ndetect the cause, are fully alive to the consequences.\n\nWhat are these defects, what their remedy, and what the proper\n\n\nWORK FOR WOMEN.\n\nNow, it seems to me that every mother who is blessed with a daughter\nshould begin with the first dawn of reason to instil into that\ndaughter's mind the consciousness that she has something to do--that\nthere is _work_ awaiting every step of her advancing progress from\nchildhood to youth, from youth to womanhood, and from womanhood to\nold age.\n\nThe patronage of boarding-houses, which are entirely antagonistic to\nthe first idea of a home, should be discarded. The daughter should be\nrequired to participate daily with her mother in household cares and\nduties, even while pursuing her studies.\n\nHerein lies the difference between \"modern ideas\" and the antique\n_r\u00e9gime_. Here is the fault of the \"century,\" so deplorable in\nits results, so widely lamented; and here--by the most culpable\nneglect to rear our daughters in a manner to fit them for the high\nresponsibilities and duties of _home_--has the equilibrium between\nthe \"producer and consumer,\" so much talked of, been lost.\n\nEducation, like charity, should begin, be carried on, and be\nperfected at home, or it can be nothing elsewhere. The duties of\nwomen as \"producers,\" in modern times, are identical with those of\ntheir grandmothers; and it is only in the family, within the dear and\nsheltered nook of home, that they can find profitable and legitimate\nexercise.\n\nUnder the ancient system--and it certainly could show as noble\nresults as the modern mode has been able to achieve--the wife was\nthe queen of a little kingdom, and her highest ambition was to rule\nwithin its sacred precincts wisely and well. If the resources and\nrevenues were scanty, her study was so to manage the expenditures\nas to leave a margin on the credit side for future emergencies, or\nfor increase of capital. If God gave her children, she accepted the\ninestimable boon with heartfelt thanksgivings, took up the holy\noffice with all its tender cares and duties, as the crown of her\nglory, and presided with matronly dignity over the best and highest\ninterests of the young immortals committed to her keeping, training\nher little ones diligently \"in the way in which they should walk.\"\nShe welcomed gracefully whatever adjuncts were furnished by schools\nand books, but never dreamed of abating her maternal vigilance, or\ntrusting to these as substitutes for home culture. Her children were\ndaily questioned, their proficiencies praised, their deficiencies or\nindolence in their studies reproved. Consequently she did not fall\ninto that other dream, too common in these days, of going out from\nhome to find something to do, because schools and systems had taken\nher children off her hands, and removed them beyond the scope of her\njurisdiction.\n\nSchools did not release her from the duty of watching over the\ndevelopment of their intellects. Sewing-machines did not stitch their\ngarments; trained servants in every department were not at hand\nto perform the housework indifferently well. Verily, between one\ninterest and another, our grandmothers had work enough to do!\n\n\nWAS IT PROFITABLE?\n\nWe think any young wife and mother who will ask this question with\nsincerity and thoughtfulness, arousing the energies of her mind\nto the importance of considering it well and arriving at a true\nconclusion, will give an affirmative reply. There is no sphere in\nwhich a woman can be so profitable a \"producer\" as at home, and that\nsimply by practising the old-fashioned virtues of \"looking well to\nthe ways of her household, and eating not the bread of idleness.\" By\nregulating carefully the consumption, she becomes the most efficient\nand lucrative \"producer.\"\n\nWhen every woman will accept this truth in its widest sense, and\nact accordingly, then, and not before, will the balance-sheet\nbetween \"producers and consumers\" be adjusted. Then will the toiling\nhusband be matched by the industrious and frugal wife. Then will he\nreturn after the toils of the day, not to a palace glittering in\ncold splendor, and rivalling in the chilly magnificence of gew-gaws\nand trinkets a jeweller's show-window, but to a cozy and cheerful\nhome, where \"books that are books\" abound, where the smile of an\nintelligent companion greets his return, and a sympathizing friend is\never ready to enter into all his cares and perplexities, to assist\nwith wise counsels, and encourage with brave words.\n\nIt is certain that there is great need of a thorough change in\nthe domestic discipline of the homes in our country, if a tithe\nof what is predicated as to existing evils be true. If our young\nwomen have really, as a general rule, become so frivolous in their\ncharacters, so fond of their ease, and so expensive in their habits,\nthat our prudent young men dare not assume the burden of a family,\nor, in doing so, can have no assurance that they are providing for\nthemselves the comforts and the blessings which should be embraced\nin the sacred inclosure of home, the consequences to society must be\nutterly ruinous. The family is the foundation of society, and only\nin well-ordered and happy homes can its well-being and stability be\nestablished and sustained.\n\n\nNIL DESPERANDUM.\n\nDeplorable as are the pictures which are drawn, discouraging as are\nthe statements we daily hear of domestic confusion and misery, it\nis not to be admitted or believed that our American women are so\nswallowed up in a vortex of fashion and folly, or so enfeebled by\nhabits of indolence, that they cannot be awakened from their fatal\ndream.\n\nThere is really in our national character too much intelligence,\nthough it may be slumbering; too much energy, though it may be\ndormant through apathy, to permit us to sink hopelessly and\nhelplessly into social chaos. It is only necessary to awaken the\npublic mind to the importance of the subject, and to arouse American\nwomen to united and persevering efforts to retrieve the past, and\nbring about a better state of affairs in the future, and the work\nof reform is on the sure road to accomplishment. This is the only\n\"_co\u00f6perative_\" agency from which we may hope for beneficial results.\nNo new plans or patent machinery will enable the wife, the mother,\nthe housekeeper, to shirk her duty or transfer the irksome task to\nother shoulders. She must simply \"seek out the old paths, and walk\ntherein,\" humbly, diligently, at whatever sacrifice of her own ease\nor endurance of painful trials, which must always be the heritage\nof the true woman, but which, met and endured in the true womanly\nspirit, are richer than earthly treasures, and will secure rewards\nmore unfailing than earthly glories.\n\nIn no other way can this painful domestic problem ever find a fitting\nsolution.\n\n\n\n\nA CONVERT'S PRAYER.\n\n    \"Too late have I known thee, O ancient truth! Too long have I\n        wandered from thee, O ancient beauty!\"\n\n                                  SAINT AUGUSTINE.\n\nINSCRIBED TO THE REV. FATHER WELCH, S.J.\n\n\n    Is it too late, O Lord! too late,\n        To thee who count'st not time\n    As we thy finite creatures do,\n        By cycles as they chime?\n    By years, and months, and fleeting days--\n        Not so thou countest, Lord;\n    A thousand years are in thy sight\n        As yesterday's brief word.\n\n    Or is it only late for _me_,\n        Late for earth's fleeting day,\n    Because the best of life is gone--\n        My youth has passed away?\n    Its fresh love, though, was given to thee;\n        Yet now, how cold it seems,\n    And I as one who shadows chased\n        In labyrinths of dreams.\n\n    In faith I walk now with thee, Lord,\n        As when Incarnate here\n    The wondering Jews looked on thy face,\n        And to thy words gave ear.\n    I am with thee at the marriage feast\n        In Cana's peaceful dale,\n    I hear thy Blessed Mother's voice\n        O'er thee in love prevail.\n\n    I hear thee answer her, and bring\n        From water even wine,\n    And mark that wondrous miracle\n        Which stamps thee God Divine!\n    And then, amid thy chosen twelve\n        The mystic supper spread,\n    With only juice pressed from the vine,\n        And only wheaten bread;\n\n    And yet, as at fair Cana's feast,\n        Faith's miracle there stood,\n    This bread thy _word_ transforms to flesh,\n        This wine into thy blood!\n    I hear thee say those solemn words,\n        \"_Except my flesh ye eat,\n    And drink my blood, no life have ye_,\"\n        No love for me complete!\n\n    I hear the Jew, \"How can this man\n        Give us his flesh to eat?\"\n    I mark thy silence; then, again,\n        Thy solemn words repeat.\n    This is faith's lesson. Lord, I bow\n        Submissive to thy word,\n    Nor ask I \"_how_:\" it is enough\n        That thou hast said it, Lord!\n\n    O wondrous mystery of faith!\n        Great God, thou dost retain\n    The vision of thy _presence_ till\n        We cease to say, \"Explain.\"\n    And last, I see thee on the cross,\n        Thine arms extended wide,\n    As if to draw the world to thee\n        To kiss thy wounded side.\n\n    And then, down-lifted from the cross,\n        And in the linen laid,\n    With spices pressed by Mary's hand\n        In wounds the spear had made.\n    All this I see, and in the night\n        Thy voice comes low and sweet,\n    And bids me, sinner as I am,\n        To kiss thy wounded feet.\n\n    And each dear hand, once raised to bless,\n        To heal, now torn and riven--\n    Lord, in those bleeding hands take _mine_,\n        Nor let them go till heaven\n    Shall take me, wanderer, safely in,\n        Where all these tears and sighs\n    Shall on thy breast be hushed to rest,\n        In golden paradise!\n\n    Then is it late, \"too late,\" O Lord?\n        I am waiting in the porch\n    To hear those \"gates of pearl\" unbar,\n        And enter in thy church;\n    To find sure anchor, peace and rest,\n        From error, sorrow, sin;\n    I am very weary of earth's strife--\n        Lord, let thy wanderer in.\n\n                                SOPHIA MAY ECKLEY.\n\nSt. Gertrude's Day, Nov. 15, 1869.\n\n\n\n\nTRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF CONRAD VON BOLANDEN.\n\nANGELA.\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\nAVOWALS.\n\nIn the same deep valley where the brook rippled over the pebbles in\nits bed, where the mountain sides rose up abruptly, where the moss\nhung from the old oaks, where Klingenberg plucked the tender beard of\nthe young professor of history, took place the meditated attack of\nthe doctor on the poison of materialism which was destroying the body\nand soul of Richard.\n\nSlowly and carefully the doctor advanced, as against an enemy who\nwill defend his position to the last. But how was he astonished when,\nupon being attacked, Frank showed no disposition to defend that most\nhighly-vaunted doctrine of modern science--materialism. This was\nalmost as puzzling to the doctor as the eternity of matter. Tired\nof skirmishing, the doctor set to work to close with the enemy and\nstrike him down.\n\n\"I have looked only cursorily at the writings of the materialists;\nyou have studied them carefully; and you will oblige me much if\nyou would give me the foundation on which the whole structure of\nmaterialism rests.\"\n\n\"The materialistic system is very simple,\" answered Frank.\n\"Materialists reject all existence that is not sensibly perceptible.\nThey deny the existence of invisible and supersensible things. There\nis no spirit in man or anywhere else. Matter alone exists, because\nmatter alone manifests its existence.\"\n\n\"I understand. The materialist will only be convinced by seeing and\nfeeling. As a spirit is neither spiritual nor tangible, then there is\nnone. Is it not so, friend Richard?\"\n\n\"You have included in one sentence the whole of materialism,\" said\nFrank coolly.\n\n\"I cannot understand,\" said Klingenberg hesitatingly, \"how the\nmaterialists can make assertions which are untenable to the commonest\nunderstandings. Why, thought can neither be seen nor felt; yet it is\nan existence.\"\n\n\"Thought is a function of the brain.\"\n\n\"Then it is incomprehensible how the sensible can beget the\nsupersensible. How matter--the brain--can produce the immaterial, the\nspiritual.\"\n\nRichard was silent.\n\n\"At every step in materialism I meet insurmountable difficulties,\"\ncontinued the doctor. \"I know perfectly the organization of the human\nbody, as well as the function and purpose of each part. The physician\nknows the purpose of the lungs, heart, kidneys, and stomach, and all\nthe noble and ignoble parts of the body. But no physician knows the\norigin of the activity of the organism. The blood stops, the pulse\nno longer beats, the lungs, kidneys, nerves, and all the rest cease\ntheir functions. The man is dead. Why? Because the activity, the\nmovement, the force is gone. What then is this vivifying force? In\nwhat does it consist? What color, what taste, what form has it? No\nphysician knows. The vivifying principle is invisible, intangible,\nperfectly immaterial. Yet it exists. Therefore the fundamental dogma\nof materialism is false. There are existences which can neither be\nfelt, tasted, nor seen.\"\n\n\"The vivifying principle is also in animals,\" said Richard.\n\n\"Certainly; and in them also intangible and mysterious. Materialism\ncannot even stand before animal life; for even there the vivifying\nprinciple is an immaterial existence.\"\n\n\"The materialist stumbles at the existence of human spirit, because\nhe cannot get a conception of it.\"\n\n\"How could this be possible?\" cried the doctor. \"The conception is a\npicture in the mind, an apprehension of the senses. Spiritual being\nis as unapproachable by the senses as the vivifying principle, of\nwhich also man can form no conception. To deny existence because you\ncannot have a conception of it, is foolish. The blind would have\nthe same right to deny the existence of colors, or the deaf that\nof music. And who can have a conception of good, of eternity, of\njustice, of virtue? No one. These are existences that do not fall\nunder the senses. To be logical, the materialist must conclude that\nthere is nothing good, nothing noble, no justice; for we have not yet\nseen nor felt nor smelt these things. Virtuous actions we can, of\ncourse, see; but these actions are not the cause but the consequence,\nnot the thing working but the thing wrought. As these actions will\nconvince every thinking man of the existence of virtue and justice,\nso must the workings of the spirit prove its existence.\"\n\n\"Precisely,\" replied Frank. \"Materialism only surprises and\ncaptivates one like a dream of the night. It vanishes the moment it\nis seen. I read the works of Vogt and B\u00fcchner only for diversion; my\nobject was perfectly gained.\"\n\n\"You read for diversion! What did you wish to forget?\"\n\n\"Dark clouds that lowered over my mind.\"\n\n\"Have you secrets that I, your old friend and well-meaning adviser,\nshould not know?\"\n\nFrank was confused; but his great respect for the doctor forced him\nto be candid.\n\n\"You know my views of women. When I tell you that Angela, the\nwell-known Angel of Salingen, has torn these opinions up by the\nroots, you will not need further explanation.\"\n\n\"You found Angela what I told you? I am glad,\" said Klingenberg. And\nhis disputative countenance changed to a pleasant expression. \"I\nsuspected that the Angel of Salingen made a deep impression on you. I\ndid not guess; I read it in large characters on your cheeks. Have you\nmade an avowal?\"\n\n\"No; it will never come to that.\"\n\n\"Why not? Are you ashamed to confess that you love a beautiful young\nlady? That is childish and simple. There is no place here for shame.\nYou want a noble, virtuous wife. You have Angela in view. Woo her; do\nnot be a bashful boy.\"\n\n\"Bashfulness might be overcome, but not the conviction that I am\nunworthy of her.\"\n\n\"Unworthy! Why, then? Shall I praise you? Shall I exhibit your noble\nqualities, and convince you why you are worth more than any young man\nthat I know? You have not Angela's religious tone; but the strong\ninfluence of the wife on the husband is well known. In two or three\nyears I shall not recognize in the ultramontane Richard Frank the\nformer materialist.\" And the doctor laughed heartily.\n\n\"It is questionable,\" said the young man, \"whether Angela's\ninclination corresponds to mine.\"\n\n\"The talk of every true lover,\" said the doctor pleasantly. \"Pluck\nthe stars of Bethlehem, like Faust's Grethe, with the refrain, 'She\nloves, she loves not--she loves.' But you are no bashful maiden; you\nare a man. Propose to her. Angela's answer will show you clearly how\nshe feels.\"\n\nThe doctor was scarcely in his room when Richard's father entered.\n\n\"All as you foretold,\" said Klingenberg. \"Your son is cured of his\nhatred of women by Angela. The materialistic studies were not in\nearnest; they were only a shield held up against the coming passion.\nThe love question is so absorbing, and the sentiment so strong, that\nRichard left me near Frankenh\u00f6he to hasten over there. I expect from\nyour sound sense that you will place no obstacles in the way of your\nson's happiness.\"\n\n\"I regret,\" said Frank coldly, \"that I cannot be of the same opinion\nwith you and Richard in this affair.\"\n\n\"Make your son unhappy?\" said Klingenberg. \"Do you consider the\npossible consequences of your opposition?\"\n\n\"What do you understand by possible consequences?\"\n\n\"Melancholy, madness, suicide, frequently come from this. I leave\nto-morrow, and I hope to take with me the assurance that you will\nsacrifice your prejudice to the happiness of Richard.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAmong the numerous inhabitants of Siegwart's yard was a hen with a\nhopeful progeny. The little chicks were very lively. They ran about\nafter insects till the call of the happy mother brought them to her.\nEscaped from the shell some few days before, they had instead of\nfeathers delicate white down, so that the pretty little creatures\nlooked as though they had been rolled in cotton. They had black,\nquick eyes, and yellow feet and bills. If a hawk flew in the air\nand the mother gave a cry, the little ones knew exactly what it\nmeant, and ran under the protecting wings of the mother from the\nhawk, although they had never seen one--had never studied in natural\nhistory the danger of the enemy. If danger were near, she called, and\nimmediately they were under her wings. The whole brood now stopped\nunder the lindens. The little ones rested comfortably near the warm\nbody of the mother. Now here, now there, their little heads would pop\nout between the feathers. One smart little chirper, whose ambition\nindicated that he would be the future cock of the walk, undertook to\nstand on the back of the hen and pick the heads of the others as they\nappeared through the feathers.\n\nAngela came under the lindens, carrying a vessel of water and some\ncrumbs in her apron for the little ones. She strewed the crumbs on\nthe ground, and the old hen announced dinner. The little ones set\nto work very awkwardly. The old hen had to break the crumbs smaller\nbetween her bill. Angela took one of the chickens in her hand and\nfondled it, and carried it into the house. The hen went to the vessel\nto drink and the whole brood followed. It happened that the one that\nstood on her back fell into the water, and cried loudly; for it\nfound that it had got into a strange element of which it had no more\nidea than Vogt and B\u00fcchner of the form of a spirit. At this critical\nmoment Frank came through the yard. He saw it fluttering about in\nthe water, and stopped. The old hen went clucking anxiously about\nthe vessel. And although she could without difficulty have taken the\nchicken out with her bill, yet she did not do it. Richard observed\nthis with great interest; but showed no desire to save the little\ncreature, which at the last gasp floated like a bunch of cotton on\nthe water.\n\nAngela may have heard the noise of the hen, for she appeared at\nthe door. She saw Frank standing near the lindens looking into the\nvessel. At the same time she noticed the danger of one of her little\ndarlings, and hastened out. She took the body from the water and held\nit sadly in her hands.\n\n\"It is dead, the little dear,\" said she sadly. \"You could have saved\nit, Herr Frank, and you did not do it.\" She looked at Frank, and\nforgot immediately, on seeing him, the object of her regrets. The\nyoung man stood before her so dejected, so depressed and sad, that\nit touched her heart. She knew what darkened his soul. She knew his\npainful struggle, his great danger, and she could have given her\nlife to save him. She was moved, tears came into her eyes, and she\nhastened into the house.\n\nSiegwart was reading the paper when his daughter hastened in such an\nunusual way through the room and disappeared.\n\nThis astonished him.\n\n\"What is the matter, Angela?\" he exclaimed.\n\nThere was no answer. He was about to go after her when Frank entered.\n\n\"I can give you some curious news of the assessor,\" said the\nproprietor after some careless conversation. \"The man is terribly\nenraged against me and full of bad designs. The reason of this anger\nis known to you.\" And he added, \"Angela is in the next room, and she\nmust know nothing of his proposal.\"\n\nFrank nodded assent.\n\n\"About ten paces from the last house in Salingen,\" continued\nSiegwart, \"I have had a pile of dirt thrown up. It was now and then\nsprinkled with slops, to make manure of it. Herr Hamm has made the\ndiscovery that the slops smell bad; that it annoys the inhabitants of\nthe next house; and he has ordered it to be removed.\"\n\nRichard shook his head disapprovingly.\n\n\"Perhaps Herr Hamm will come to the conclusion that, in the interest\nof the noses, all like piles must be removed from Salingen.\"\n\n\"But that is not all,\" said Siegwart. \"It has been discovered that\nthe common good forbids my keeping fowls, because my residence is\nsurrounded by fields and vineyards, where the fowls do great damage.\nThe Herr Assessor has had the goodness, accompanied by the guards,\nto examine personally the amount of destruction. So I have got\ninstructions either to keep my fowls confined or to make away with\nthem.\"\n\n\"Mean and contemptible!\" said Frank.\n\nAngela came into the room. Her countenance was smiling and clear as\never; but her swollen eyes did not escape Richard's observation. She\ngreeted the guest, and sat down in her accustomed place near the\nwindow. Scarcely had she done this, when Frank stood up, went toward\nher, and knelt down before the astonished girl.\n\n\"Miss, I have greatly offended you, and beg your pardon.\"\n\nSiegwart looked on in surprise--now at his daughter, who was\nperplexed; now at the kneeling young man.\n\n\"For God's sake! Herr Frank, arise,\" said the confused Angela. She\nwas about to leave the seat, but he caught her hand and gently\nreplaced her.\n\n\"If I may approach so near to you, my present position is the proper\none. Hear me! I have deeply offended you. I could with ease have\nsaved a creature that was dear to you, and I did not do it. My\nconduct has brought tears to your eyes--hurt your feelings. When\nyou went away to regain your composure, and to show your offender a\nserene, reconciled countenance, it made my fault more distressing.\nForgive me; do not consider me hard and heartless, but see in me an\nunfortunate who forgets himself in musing.\"\n\nShe looked into Frank's handsome face as he knelt before her, in such\nsadness, lowering his eyes like a guilty boy, and smiled sweetly.\n\n\"I will forgive you, Herr Frank, on one condition.\"\n\n\"Only speak. I am prepared for any penance.\"\n\n\"The condition is, that you burn those godless books that make you\ndoubt about the noblest things in man, and that you buy no more.\"\n\n\"I vow fulfilment, and assure you that the design of those books,\nwhich you rightly call godless, is recognized by me as a crime\nagainst the dignity of man--and condemned.\"\n\n\"This rejoices no one more than me,\" said she with a tremulous voice.\n\nHe stood up, bowed, and returned to his former place.\n\n\"But, my dear neighbor, how did this singular affair happen?\" said\nthe proprietor.\n\nFrank told him about the death of the chicken.\n\n\"The love of the hen for her chickens is remarkable. She protects\nthem with her wings and warns them of danger, which she knows by\ninstinct. How easy would it have been for the hen to have taken the\nyoung one from the water with her bill--the same bill with which she\nbroke their food and gave it to them. But she did not do it, because\nit is strange to her nature. This case is another striking proof that\nanimals act neither with understanding nor reflection. Acts beyond\ntheir instinct are impossible to them. This would not be the case,\nif they had souls.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe old servant stood with an empty basket before the library of\nthe son, as he had stood before that of the father. B\u00fcchner, Vogt,\nand Czolbe fell into the fire. Jacob shook his head and regretted\nthe beautiful binding; but the evil spirits between the covers he\nwillingly consigned to the flames.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAgain the cars stopped at the station; again the two gentlemen stood\nat the open window of the car to receive their returning friends. The\ntravellers took a carriage and drove through the street.\n\n\"Baron Linden has indeed gone headlong into misery,\" said Lutz\nhumorously. \"Eight days ago the young pair swore eternal fidelity. It\nwas signed and sealed. Until to-day no one could know that they were\non the brink of misery.\"\n\nRichard remembered his remark on the former occasion, and wondered at\nhis sudden change of opinion.\n\n\"I wish them all happiness,\" said he.\n\n\"Amen!\" answered Lutz. \"Richard, however, considers happiness in\nmatrimony possible. So we may hope that he will not always remain a\nbachelor. How is the Angel of Salingen? Have you seen her since that\nencounter with the steer?\"\n\n\"The angel is well,\" said Richard, avoiding the glance of his friend.\n\n\"What do you mean by the 'Angel of Salingen'?\" said the father.\n\n\"Thereby I understand the unmarried daughter of Herr Siegwart, of\nSalingen, named Angela, who richly deserves to be called the 'Angel\nof Salingen.'\"\n\nFrank knit his brows darkly and drummed on his knees.\n\n\"And the encounter with the steer?\" continued he.\n\nThe professor related the occurrence.\n\n\"Ah! you did not tell me anything of that,\" said the father, turning\nto Frank. \"An act of such great courage deserves to be mentioned.\"\n\nThe carriage passed into the court of a stately mansion. The servant\nsprang from his seat and opened the carriage-door. The professor\nlooked at his watch.\n\n\"Herr Frank, will you allow your coachman to drive me to the\nuniversity? I must be at my post in ten minutes. I cannot go on foot\nin that time.\"\n\n\"With pleasure, Herr Professor.\"\n\n\"Richard,\" said the other friend, \"shall we meet at the opera\nto-night?\"\n\n\"Scarcely. I must to-day enter upon my usual business.\"\n\n\"Come, if possible. The evening promises great amusement, for the\ncelebrated Santinilli dances.\"\n\nThe accustomed routine of business began for Richard. He sat in the\ncounting-room and worked with his habitual punctuality. Nevertheless\ninvidious spirits lured him toward Salingen, so that the figures\ndanced before his eyes, words had no meaning, and he was often\nlost in day-dreams. The watchful father had observed this, and was\nperplexed.\n\nRichard's plan of studies also underwent a change. He left the house\nregularly at half-past five and returned at half-past six. The\nfather, desiring to know what this meant, set the faithful Jacob on\nthe watch.\n\n\"Herr Richard,\" reported the spy, \"hears mass at the Capuchins.\"\n\nFrank drummed a march on his knees.\n\n\"So, so!\" he hummed. \"The ultramontanes understand proselytizing.\nThey have turned the head of my son. If I live long enough, I may\nyet see him turn Capuchin, build a cloister, and go about begging.\"\n\nWhen Herr Frank entered the counting-room, he found his son busy at\nwork. He stood up and greeted his father.\n\n\"I have observed, Richard,\" he began after a time, \"that you go out\nearly every morning. What does it mean?\"\n\n\"I have imposed upon myself the obligation of hearing mass every\nmorning.\"\n\n\"How did you come to take that singular obligation upon yourself?\"\n\n\"From the conviction that religion is no empty idea, but a power that\ncan give peace and consolation in all conditions of life.\"\n\n\"It is evident that you have breathed ultramontane air. This\nchurch-going is not forbidden--but no trifling or fanatical nonsense.\"\n\n\"It is my constant care, father, to give you no cause of uneasiness.\"\n\n\"I am rejoiced at this, my son; but I must observe that a certain\ngloomy, reserved manner of yours disturbs me. Your conduct is\nexemplary, your industry praiseworthy, your habits regular; but you\nkeep yourself too much shut up; you do not give evening parties any\nmore. You do not visit the concert-hall or theatre. This is wrong; we\nshould enjoy life, and not move about like dreamers.\"\n\n\"I have no taste for amusements,\" answered Richard. \"However, if you\nthink a change would be good, I beg you to permit me to take a run\nout to Frankenh\u00f6he for a couple of days.\"\n\n\"And why to Frankenh\u00f6he? I do not know any amusement there for you.\"\n\n\"I have planted a small vineyard, as you know, and I would like to\nsee how the Burgundies thrive.\"\n\nHerr Frank was not in a hurry to give the permission. He thought and\ndrummed.\n\n\"You can go,\" he said resignedly. \"I hope the mountain air will cheer\nyou up.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nHerr Siegwart had remarked the same symptoms in his daughter that\nHerr Frank had in his son; but Angela did not give way to discontent.\nShe was always the same obedient daughter. The poor and sick of\nSalingen could not complain of neglect. But she was frequently\nabsent-minded, gave wrong answers to questions, and sought solitude.\nIf Frank was mentioned, she revived; the least circumstance connected\nwith him was interesting to her. Her sharp-sighted father soon\ndiscovered the inmost thoughts and feelings of his daughter. He\nthought of Herr Frank's ill-humor toward him, and was disposed to\nregret the hour that Richard entered his house.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe Burgundies at Frankenh\u00f6he were scarcely looked at. The young\nman hastened to Salingen. He found the landscape changed in a few\nweeks. The fields had clothed themselves in yellow. The wheat-stalks\nbent gracefully under their load. Everywhere industrious crowds were\nin the fields. The stalks fell beneath the reapers. Men bound the\nsheaves. Wagons stood here and there. The sheaves were raised into\npicturesque stacks. The sun beamed down hot, and the sweltering\nweather wrote on the foreheads of the men, \"Adam, in the sweat of thy\nbrow thou shalt eat thy bread.\"\n\nIn the proprietor's house all was still. The old cook sat beneath the\nlindens, and with spectacles on her nose tried to mend a stocking\nwhich she held in her hand. She arose and smiled on Richard's\napproach.\n\n\"They are all in the fields. We have much work, Herr Frank. The grain\nis ripe, and we have already gathered fifty wagon-loads. I am glad to\nsee you looking so much better. The family will also be glad. They\nthink a great deal of you--particularly Herr Siegwart.\"\n\n\"Give them many kind greetings from me. I will come back in the\nevening.\"\n\n\"Off so soon? Will you not say good-day to Miss Angela? She is in the\ngarden. Shall I call her?\"\n\n\"No,\" said he after a moment's reflection; \"I will go into the garden\nmyself.\"\n\nAfter unlatching the gate, he would have turned back, for he became\nnervous and embarrassed.\n\nAngela sat in the arbor; her embroidery-frame leaned against the\ntable, and she was busily working. As she heard the creaking of\nfootsteps on the walk, she looked up and blushed. Frank raised his\nhat, and when the young woman stood up before him in beauty and\nloveliness, his nervousness increased, and he would gladly have\nescaped; but his spirit was in the fetters of a strange power, and\nnecessity supplied him with a few appropriate remarks.\n\n\"I heard that the family were absent; but I did not wish to go away\nwithout saluting you, Miss Angela.\"\n\nShe observed the bashful manner of the young man, and said kindly, \"I\nam glad to see you again, Herr Frank,\" and invited him to sit down.\nHe looked about for a seat; but as there was none, he had to sit on\nthe same bench with her.\n\n\"Do you remain long at Frankenh\u00f6he?\"\n\n\"Only to-day and to-morrow. Work requires dispatch, and old custom\nhas so bound me to my occupation that the knowledge of work to be\ndone makes me feel uneasy.\"\n\n\"Do you work every day regularly in the counting-room?\"\n\n\"I am punctual to the hours, for the work demands regularity and\norder. There are every day some hours for recreation.\"\n\n\"And what is the most pleasant recreation for you?\"\n\n\"Music and painting. I like them the best. But of late,\" he added\nhesitatingly, \"unavoidable thoughts press on me, and many hours of\nrecreation pass in useless dreaming.\"\n\nAngela thought of his former mental troubles and looked anxiously in\nhis eyes.\n\n\"Now, you have promised me,\" she said softly, \"to forget all those\nthings in those bad books that disturbed your mind.\"\n\n\"The fulfilment of no duty was lighter or more pleasant to me than to\nkeep my promise to you, Angela.\"\n\nHis voice trembled. She leaned over her work and her cheeks glowed.\nThe delicate fingers went astray; but Frank did not notice that the\ncolors in the embroidery were getting into confusion. There was a\nlong pause. Then Frank remembered the doctor's final admonition, \"Be\nnot like a bashful boy; put aside all false shame and speak your\nmind;\" and he took courage.\n\n\"I have no right to ask what disturbs and depresses you,\" said she,\nin a scarcely audible voice and without moving her head.\n\n\"It is you who have the best right, Angela! You have not only saved\nmy life, but also my better convictions. You have purified my views,\nand influenced my course of life. I was deeply in error, and you have\nshown me the only way that leads to peace. This I see more clearly\nevery day. The church is no longer a strange, but an attractive\nplace to me. All this you have done without design. I tell you this\nbecause I think you sympathize with me.\"\n\nHe paused; but the declaration of his love hovered on his lips.\n\n\"You have not deceived yourself as to my sympathy,\" she answered.\n\"The discovery that one so insignificant as myself has any influence\nwith you makes me glad.\"\n\n\"O Angela! you are not insignificant in my eyes. You are more than\nall else on earth to me!\" he cried. \"You are the object of my love,\nof my waking dreams. If you could give me your hand before the altar\nin fidelity and love, my dearest wishes would be realized.\"\n\nShe slowly raised her head, her modest countenance glowed in a\nvirginal blush, and her eyes, which met Richard's anxious look, were\nfilled with tears. She lowered her head, and laid her hand in that of\nthe young man. He folded her in his arms, pressed her to his heart,\nand kissed her forehead. The swallows flew about the arbor, twittered\nnoisily, and threatened the robber who was trying to take away their\nfriend. The sparrows, through the leaves of the vines, looked with\nwonder at the table where Angela's head rested on the breast of her\naffianced.\n\nThey arose.\n\n\"We cannot keep this from our parents, Richard. My parents esteem\nyou. Their blessing will not be wanting to our union.\"\n\nSuddenly she paused, and stood silent and pale, as though filled with\na sudden fear. Richard anxiously inquired the cause.\n\n\"You know your father's opinion of us,\" she said, disturbed.\n\n\"Do not be troubled about that. Father will not object to my\narrangements. But even if he does, I am of age, and no power shall\nseparate me from you.\"\n\n\"No, Richard; no! I love you as my life; but without your father's\nconsent, our union wants a great blessing. Speak to him in love;\nbeg him, beseech him, but do not annoy him on account of your\nselfishness.\"\n\n\"So it shall be. Your advice is good and noble. As long as this\ndifficulty exists, I am uneasy. I will therefore go back. Speak to\nyour parents; give them my kind greeting, and tell them how proud I\nshall feel to be acknowledged as their son.\" He again folded her in\nhis arms and hastened away.\n\nThe old cook still sat under the lindens, and the stocking lost many\na stitch as Frank, with a joyous countenance, passed her without\nspeaking, without having noticed her. She shook wonderingly her old\ngray head.\n\nAngela sat in the arbor. Her work lay idly on the table. With a\ncountenance full of sweetness she went to her room, and knelt and\nprayed.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nHerr Frank looked up astonished, as Richard, late in the evening,\nentered his chamber.\n\n\"Excuse me, father,\" said he joyfully and earnestly; \"something has\nhappened of great importance to me, and of great interest to you. I\ncould not delay an explanation, even at the risk of depriving you of\nan hour's sleep.\"\n\n\"Well, well! I am really interested,\" said Herr Frank, as he threw\nhimself back on the sofa. \"Your explanation must be something\nextraordinary, for I have never seen you thus before. What is it,\nthen?\"\n\n\"For a right understanding of my position, it is necessary to go back\nto that May-day on which we went to Frankenh\u00f6he. Your displeasure at\nmy well-grounded aversion to women you will remember.\"\n\nWith childish simplicity he related the whole course of his inner\nlife and trials at Frankenh\u00f6he. He described the deep impression\nAngela had made upon him. He took out his diary and read his\nobservations, his stubborn adherence to his prejudices, and the\nvictory of a virtuous maiden over them. The father listened with the\ngreatest attention. He admired the depth of his son's mind and the\nnoble struggle of conviction against the powerful influence of error.\nBut when Richard made known what had passed between himself and\nAngela, Herr Frank's countenance changed.\n\n\"I have told you all,\" said Richard, \"with that openness which a son\nowes to his father. From the disposition and character of Angela, as\nyou have heard them, you must have learned to respect her, and have\nbeen convinced that she and I will be happy. Therefore, father, I beg\nyour consent and blessing on our union.\"\n\nHe arose and was about to kneel, when Herr Frank stopped him.\n\n\"Slowly, my son. With the exception of what happened to-day, I\nam pleased with your conduct. You have convinced yourself of the\ninjustice of your opinion of women. You have found a noble woman.\nI am willing to believe that Angela is a magnificent and faultless\ncreature, although she have an ultramontane father. But my consent\nto your union with Siegwart's daughter you will never receive. Now,\nRichard, you can without trouble find a woman that will suit you, and\nwho is as beautiful and as noble-minded as the Angel of Salingen.\"\n\n\"May I ask the reason of your refusal, father?\"\n\n\"There are many reasons. First, I do not like the ultramontane spirit\nof the Siegwart family. Angela is educated in this spirit. You would\nbe bound to a wife whose narrow views would be an intolerable burden.\"\n\n\"Pardon, father! The extracts from my diary informed you that I have\nexamined this ultramontane spirit very carefully, and that I was\nforced at last to correct my opinions of the ultramontanes--to reject\nan unjust prejudice.\"\n\n\"The stained glass of passion has beguiled you into ultramontane\nsentiments; and further, remember that Siegwart is personally\nobjectionable to me.\" And he spoke of the failure of the factory\nthrough Angela's father.\n\n\"Herr Siegwart has told me of that enterprise, and, at the same time,\ngave me the reasons that induced him to prevent its realization. He\nshowed the demoralizing effects of factories. He showed that the\ninhabitants of that neighborhood support themselves by farming; that\nthe religious sentiment of the country people is endangered by Sunday\nlabor and other evil influences that accompany manufacturing.\"\n\n\"And you approved of this narrow-mindedness of the ultramontane?\"\ncried Frank.\n\n\"Siegwart's conduct is free from narrow-mindedness. You yourself\nhave often said that faith and religion had much to fear from modern\nmanufactories. If Siegwart has made great sacrifices, if he has\ninterfered against his own interest in favor of faith and morality,\nhe deserves great respect for it.\"\n\n\"Has it gone so far? Do you openly take part with the ultramontane\nagainst your father?\"\n\n\"I take no part; I express frankly my views,\" answered Richard\ntranquilly.\n\n\"The views of father and son are very different, and we may thank\nyour intercourse with the ultramontanes for it.\"\n\n\"Your acquaintance, father, with that excellent family is very\ndesirable. You would soon be convinced that you ought to respect\nthem.\"\n\n\"I do not desire their acquaintance. It is near midnight; go to rest,\nand forget the hasty step of to-day.\"\n\n\"I will never regret what has taken place with forethought and\nreflection,\" answered Richard firmly. \"I again ask your consent to\nthe happiness of your son.\"\n\n\"No, no! Once for all--never!\" cried Frank hastily.\n\nThe son became excited. He was about to fly into a passion, and to\nshow his father that he was not going to follow blind authority like\nan inexperienced child, when he thought of what Angela said, \"Speak\nto your father in love;\" and his rising anger subsided.\n\n\"You know, father,\" he said hesitatingly, \"that my age permits me\nto choose a wife without reference to your will. As the consent is\nwithheld without valid reasons, I might do without it. But Angela\nhas urgently requested me not to act against your will, and I have\npromised to comply with her wishes.\"\n\n\"Angela appears to have more sense than you. So she requested this\npromise from you? I esteem the young lady for this sentiment,\nalthough she be a child of Siegwart, who shall never have my son for\na son-in-law.\"\n\nThe young man arose.\n\n\"It only remains for me to declare,\" said he calmly, \"that to Angela,\nand to her alone, shall I ever belong in love and fidelity. If you\npersevere in your refusal, I here tell you, on my honor, I shall\nnever choose another wife.\"\n\nHe made a bow and left the room. It was long past midnight, and\nHerr Frank was still sitting on the sofa, drumming on his knees and\nshaking his head.\n\n\"An accursed piece of business!\" said he. \"I know he will not break\nhis word of honor under any circumstances. I know his stubborn\nhead. But this Siegwart, this clerical ultramontane fellow--it is\nincompatible; mental progress and middle-age darkness, spiritual\nenlightenment and stark confessionalism--it won't do. Angela\ncertainly is not her father. She is an innocent country creature;\ndoes not wear crinoline, dresses in blue like a bluebell, has not\na dainty stomach, and has no toilette nonsense. The nuns, together\nwith perverted views of the world, may, perhaps, have taught her many\nprinciples that adorn an honorable woman; but--but--\" And Herr Frank\nthrew himself back grumbling on the sofa.\n\nOn the following day Richard wrote Angela a warm, impassioned letter.\nThe vow of eternal love and fidelity was repeated. In conclusion, he\nspoke of his father's refusal, but assured her that his consent would\nyet be given.\n\nMany weeks passed. The letters of the lovers came and went regularly\nand without interruption. She wrote that her parents had not\nhesitated a moment to give their consent. In her letters Richard\nadmired her tender feeling, her dove-like innocence and pure love.\nHe was firm in his conviction that she would make him happy, would\nbe his loadstar through life. He read her letters hundreds of times,\nand these readings were his only recreation. He spoke not another\nword about the matter to his father. He kept away from all society.\nHe devoted himself to his calling, and endeavored to purify his\nheart in the spirit of religion, that he might approach nearer to\nan equality with Angela. The father observed him carefully, and was\ndaily more and more convinced that a spiritual change was coming\nover his son. Murmuringly he endured the church-going, and vexedly\nhe shook his head at Richard's composure and perseverance, which he\nknew time would not change. The more quietly the son endured, the\nmore disquieted Herr Frank became. \"Sacrifice your prejudices to your\nson's happiness,\" he heard the doctor saying; and he felt ashamed\nwhen he thought of this advice.\n\n\"What cannot be cured must be endured,\" he was accustomed to say for\nsome days, as often as he went into his room. \"The queer fellow makes\nit uncomfortable for me; this cannot continue; days and years pass\naway. I am growing old, and the house of Frank must not die out.\"\n\nOne morning he gave Richard charge of the establishment. \"I have\nimportant business,\" said he. \"I will be back to-morrow.\"\n\nThe father smiled significantly as he said this. Richard heard from\nthe coachman that Herr Frank took a ticket for the station near\nFrankenh\u00f6he. He knew the great importance to him of this visit,\nand prayed God earnestly to move his father's heart favorably. His\nuneasiness increased hourly, and rendered all work impossible.\nHe walked up and down the counting-room like a man who feared\nbankruptcy, and expected every moment the decision on which depended\nhis happiness for life. He went into the hall where the desks of\nthe clerks stood in long rows. He went to the desks, looked at the\nwriting of the clerks, and knew not what he did, where he went, or\nwhere he stood.\n\nThe next day Herr Frank returned. Richard was called to the library,\nwhere his father received him with a face never more happy or\ncontented.\n\n\"I have visited your bride,\" he began, \"because I had a curiosity to\nknow personally the one who has converted my son to sound views of\nwomankind. I am perfectly satisfied with your taste, and also with\nmyself; for I have become reconciled with Siegwart, and find that he\nis as willing to live with his neighbors in harmony as in discord.\nYou now have my blessing on your union. The marriage can take place\nwhen you please; only it would please me if it came off as soon as\npossible.\"\n\nRichard stood speechless with emotion, which so overcame him that\ntears burst from his eyes. He embraced his father, kissed him\ntenderly, and murmured his thanks.\n\n\"That will do, Richard,\" said Herr Frank, much affected. \"Your\nhappiness moves me. May it last long. And I do not doubt it will;\nfor Angela is truly a woman the like of whom I have never met. Her\ncharacter is as clear and transparent as crystal; and her eyes\npossess such power, and her smile such loveliness, that I fear for my\nfreedom when she is once in the house.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nCrisp, cold weather. The December winds sweep gustily through the\nstreets of the city, driving the well-clad wanderer before them and\nsporting with the weather-vanes. A carriage stops before the door of\nthe Director Schlagbein. Professor Lutz steps out and directs the\ndriver to await him.\n\nEmil Schlagbein, Richard's unhappy married friend, had moved his\neasy-chair near the stove and leaned his head against its back. He\nlooked as though despair had seized him and thrown him into it. Hasty\nsteps were heard in the ante-room, and Lutz stood before him.\n\n\"Still in your working-clothes, Emil? Up! the tea-table of the Angel\nof Salingen awaits us.\"\n\n\"Pardon me; my head is confused, my heart is sad; grief wastes my\nlife away.\"\n\n\"War--always war; never peace!\" said Lutz. \"I fear, Emil, that\nall the fault is not with your wife. You are too sensitive, too\nparticular about principles. Man must tolerate, and not be niggardly\nin compliance. Take old Frank as a model. With Angela entered\nultramontanism into his house. Frank lives in peace with this\nspirit--even on friendly terms. Angela reads him pious stories from\nthe legends of the saints. He goes with her to church, where he\nlistens with attention to the word of God. He hears mass as devoutly\nas a Capuchin; not to say any thing of Richard, who runs a race with\nAngela for the prize of piety. Could you not also make some sacrifice\nto the whims of your wife?\"\n\n\"Angela and Ida--day and night!\" said the director bitterly. \"The\ntwo Franks make no sacrifice to female whims. They appreciate her\nexalted views, they admire her purity, her unspeakable modesty, her\nshining virtues. The two Franks acted reasonably when they adopted\nthe principles that produced such a woman. Angela never speaks to\nher husband in defiance and bad temper. If clouds gather in the\nmatrimonial heaven, she dissipates them with the breath of love.\nIs the sacrifice of a wish wanted? Angela makes it. Is her pure\nfeeling offended by Richard's faults? She kisses them away and raises\nhim to her level. My wife--is she not just the opposite in every\nthing? Is she not quick-tempered, bitter, loveless, extravagant,\nand stiff-necked? Has she a look--I will not say of love--but even\nof respect for me? Do not all her thoughts and acts look to the\npleasures of the toilette, the opera, balls, and concerts? O my poor\nchildren! who grow up without a mother, in the hands of domestics.\nHow is any concession possible here? Must not my position, my\nself-respect, the last remnant of manly dignity go to the wall?\"\n\n\"Your case is lamentable, friend! Your principles and those of your\nwife do not agree. Concession to the utmost point of duty, joined\nwith prudent reform in many things, may, perhaps, bring back harmony\nand a good understanding between you. You praise Angela: follow her\nexample. She abominates the air of the theatre. The opera-glasses of\nthe young men levelled at her offend her deeply, and bring to her\nangelic countenance the blush of shame. Her fine religious feeling is\noffended at many words, gestures, and dances which a pious Christian\nwoman should not hear and see. Yet she goes to the opera because\nRichard wishes it. Her husband will at last observe this heroism of\nlove, and sacrifice the opera to it. What Angela cannot obtain by\nprayers and representations, she gains by the all-conquering weapons\nof love. In like manner and for a like object yield to your wife. She\nis, at least, not a firebrand. Love must overcome her stubbornness.\"\n\nSchlagbein shook his head sadly.\n\n\"A father cannot do what is inconsistent with paternal duty,\"\nsaid he. \"Shall I join in the course of my wife? Whither does\nthis course lead? To the destruction of all family ties, to\nfinancial bankruptcy--to dishonor. For home my wife has no mind, no\nunderstanding. My means she throws carelessly into the bottomless\npit of pleasure-seeking and love of dress. She does not think of\nthe future of her children. Every day brings to her new desires for\nprodigality. If her wishes are fulfilled, ruin is unavoidable. If\nthey are not fulfilled, she sits ill-humored and obstinate in her\nroom, and leaves the care of the house to her domestics, and the\nchildren to the nurses. How often have I consented to her vain desire\nfor show, only to see her extravagant wishes thereby increased. She\nis without reason.\"\n\nThe unfortunate man's head sunk upon his breast. Lutz stood still\nwithout uttering a word.\n\n\"Yes, Angela is a noble woman,\" continued Emil, \"she is the spirit of\norder, the angel of peace and love. Just hear Richard's father. He\nrevels in enthusiasm about her. 'My Richard is the happiest man in\nthe world,' said he to me lately. 'I myself must be thankful to him\nfor his prudent choice. Abounding in every thing, my house was empty\nand desolate before Angela came; but now every thing shines in the\nsun of her orderly housekeeping, of her tender care. Although served\nwith fidelity, I have been until the present almost neglected. But\nnow that the angel hovers over me, observes my every want, and with\nher smile lights my old age, I am perfectly happy.' Has my wife a\nsingle characteristic of this noble woman?\"\n\n\"Angela is unapproachable in the little arts that win the heart and\ndrive away melancholy,\" said Lutz. \"A few weeks ago, Herr Frank came\nhome one day from the counting-room all out of sorts. He sat silently\nin his easy-chair drumming on his knee. Angela noticed his ill-humor.\nShe sought to dissipate it--to cheer him; but she did not succeed.\nShe then arose, and, going to him, said with unspeakable affection,\n'Father, may I play and sing for you the \"Lied der Kapelle?\"' Herr\nFrank looked in her face, and smiled as he replied, 'Yes, my angel.'\nWhen her sweet voice resounded in the next room in beautiful accord\nwith the accompaniment, which she played most feelingly, the old man\nrevived and joined in her song with his trembling bass.\"\n\n\"How often we have twitted Richard with his views of modern women,\"\nsaid Emil. \"It was his cool judgment, perhaps, that saved him from a\nmisfortune like mine.\"\n\nJust then a carriage stopped before the house. Emil went uneasily to\nthe window, and Lutz followed him. Bandboxes and trunks were taken\nfrom the house. The professor looked inquiringly at his friend, whose\nhand appeared to tremble as it rested on the window-glass.\n\n\"What does this mean, Emil?\"\n\n\"My wife is going to her aunt's for an indefinite time. She leaves me\nto enjoy the pleasures of Christmas alone. The children also remain\nhere; they might be in her way.\"\n\nThe professor pitied his unhappy friend.\n\n\"Emil,\" said he, almost angrily, \"it is for you to determine how a\nman should act in regard to the freaks and caprices of his wife. But\nyou should not steep yourself in gall, even though your wife turn\ninto a river of bitterness. Drive away sadness and be happy. Do not\nlet your present humor rob you of every thing. Forget what you cannot\nchange.\"\n\nA beautiful woman approached the carriage. Schlagbein turned away\nfrom the sight. Lutz observed the departing wife and mother. She\ndid not look up at the window where her husband was. She got into\nthe carriage without even saying farewell. She sat in the midst of\nbandboxes, surrounded by finery and tinsel; and as the wheels rolled\nover the pavement, the director groaned in his chair.\n\n\"A happy journey to you, Xantippe!\" cried the angry professor. \"Emil,\nbe a man. Dress yourself; forget at the Angel of Salingen's your\ndomestic devil.\"\n\nSchlagbein moved his head disconsolately.\n\n\"What have the wretched to do in the home of the happy? There I shall\nonly see more clearly that I suffer and am miserable.\"\n\nLutz, out of humor, threw himself into the carriage. With knitted\nbrows he buried himself in one of its corners. That professional\nhead was perplexed with a question which ordinary men would have\nquickly seen through, and settled. Frank's happiness and Schlagbein's\nmisery stood as two irrefutable facts before the mind of the\nprofessor. Now came the question, Why this happiness, why this\nmisery? The dashing Ida he had known for years; also her enlightened\nviews of life, and her flexible principles, perfectly conformable\nto the spirit of progress. Whence, then, the dissoluteness of her\ndesires, the bitterness of her humor, the heartlessness of the wife,\nthe callousness of the mother?\n\nThe professor continued his musing. He gave a scrutinizing glance\nat the marriages of all his acquaintances. Everywhere he found a\nclouded sky, and, in the semi-darkness, lightning and thunder. Only\none marriage stood before him bright and clear in the sunlight of\nhappiness, in the raiment of peace, and that was ultramontane. That\nultramontane principles had produced this happiness and peace, the\nprofessor's industrious mind saw with clearness. He raised his head\nand said solemnly, \"Marriage is an image of religion. It proceeds\nfrom the lips of God, and is perfected at the altar. The marriage\nduties are children of the religious sentiment, fetters of the\ndivine law. Ida was faithful and true so long as it agreed with\nthe longings of her heart. But with the cooling of affection died\nlove and fidelity. She recognizes no religious duty, because she\nhas progressed to liberty and independence. From this follows with\nstriking clearness the incompatibility of Christian marriage with the\nspirit of the age. Marriage will be a thing of the past as soon as\nintellectual maturity conquers in the contest with religion. Sound\nsense, liberty of emotion and inclination will supplant the terrible\nmarriage yoke.\"\n\nThe professor paused and examined his conclusion. It smiled upon\nhim like a true child of nature. It clothed itself in motley flesh,\nand passed through green meadows and shady forests. It pointed\nencouragingly to the beasts of the field and the birds of the air,\nlong in possession of intellectual maturity. Sensual marriages,\nintended to last only for weeks or months, danced around the\nprofessor. Cannibal hordes, who extended to him their brotherly paws\nand claws, pressed about him. In astonishment, he contemplated his\nconclusion; it made beastly grimaces, knavish and jeering, and he\ndashed into fragments the provoking mockery.\n\nIn strong contrast to the animal kingdom, stood before him again the\nChristian marriage. He cunningly tried to give his new conclusion\nhuman shape; but here the carriage stopped, and the speculation\nvanished before the clear light in the house of the \"Angel of\nSalingen.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE LETTER OF MR. E. S. FFOULKES.\n\n\nThe religious controversies of the last three centuries have given\nbirth to many new and strange things, but scarcely to any thing\nmore wonderful than the letter of Mr. E. S. Ffoulkes to Archbishop\nManning, entitled _The Church's Creed or the Crown's Creed_. It is\nhard to discern the precise mental condition of the author, or the\ntemper with which he writes; while the whole letter is a bundle\nof misstatements and misunderstandings, calculated to produce an\nimpression only upon the ignorant or prejudiced reader. It has been\nused in this country as an argument against the Catholic Church by\nthe advance-guard of Episcopalians, whose sparse ranks are daily\ndepleted by conversions to Rome. It has more than once happened\nthat individuals even in high position have proved unfaithful, and\nwe know of one or two converts to the church for whom the yoke of\nChrist proved too heavy. Nothing is more natural than to hold up\nthese examples to the doubtful and the wavering as warnings. \"Here\nis one who has tried the Roman communion and found it oppressive\nto his heart, or irreconcilable with his views of Christianity.\nHesitate long before you take the step which he found occasion to\nregret.\" Such a warning is not without effect upon minds so tempted\nand anxious as are those of Protestants, when, called by conscience,\nthey forsake the associations of childhood and accept for the first\ntime, in the spirit of obedience, a religion which God has revealed\nto faith alone. We have known some to be deterred from the great\nstep by such warnings, which are purely personal, and hardly merit\nthe name of arguments. For surely individual experiences are not to\nbe taken as the basis of any reasoning. They are good only as far as\nthe person concerned may be deemed an infallible criterion of right\nor wrong. Every one is liable to mistake or positive error, and\nwhile there have been a few dissatisfied Catholics, and a very few\nconcerts who have regretted the step they took, there have been many\nmore who have daily found new cause to thank God for the peace they\nhave experienced in the old faith. If the testimony of individuals\nis to be taken, we have the preponderance of argument in our favor.\nDefections from our ranks will never even approximate to an equality\nin moral weight with the accessions, nor ever furnish any plausible\nobjection against the invincible demonstration of the authority of\nthe church. We do not deny that difficulties may be raised which\nit may require time and patience to remove, nor that there are\noftentimes trials which prove the sincerity of every individual\nbeliever. But there are no _logical_ objections to the claims of\nan authority which professes to be divine, and gives to the honest\nmind just grounds for its high pretensions. The defection of Mr. E.\nS. Ffoulkes, or of many others like him, is in itself no argument\nwhatever, and cannot be taken as any thing conclusive against us,\nany more than can the treason of Judas Iscariot. If he, or any other\nadversary, will try in a manly way to confute the arguments by which\nwe substantiate our position, let us listen with patience and candor,\nand give to his reasonings the attention which they merit. Has Mr.\nFfoulkes done this in the letter before us, and what answer shall\nCatholics make to his attack? The full and complete replies which\nhave been made to his pamphlet in England may not have reached many\nhere whom his assertions have surprised, and therefore it may be well\nto give room in these pages to a brief discussion of the charges\nwhich he makes against the Catholic Church.\n\nThey resolve themselves into the following:\n\n1. The pope allowed the civil power to make an alteration in the\ncreed--a thing distinctly forbidden by the Fourth General Council.\n\n2. The pope afterward altered the creed on his own authority.\n\n3. He made use of the forged Isidorian decretals to build up a power\nwhich he did not possess in earlier ages.\n\n4. He even inspired the Crusades for the purpose of putting down\nthe patriarchal sees of the east and exalting his own dignity, thus\nshowing himself to be a man of blood.\n\n5. The fruits of faith, on the testimony of Mr. Ffoulkes's\nexperience, are greater in the Anglican Church than they are in the\nCatholic communion; therefore the former is more truly a church than\nthe latter.\n\nThe inferences to be drawn from these charges, if they could be\nsubstantiated, would be, that the pope has been very wicked, and has\nmade himself liable to excommunication, and that the see of Rome is\nto blame for all the divisions of the church. This produces a sad\necclesiastical dilemma; for if the supreme pontiff be excommunicated,\nwho will take his place, and where shall we find the true body of\nChrist?\n\n     \"Rome,\" says Mr. Ffoulkes, \"has abundantly proved, during the last\n     thousand years, that she can be a negligent, hesitating, fickle,\n     self-seeking, hypocritical guide to others, _even where the faith\n     is concerned_.\"\n\nLet us examine these fearful charges, one by one, and then perhaps we\nmay have time to notice some singular assertions which are scattered\nthrough the letter, though they have nothing to do with the main\nargument.\n\n1. \"The Fourth General Council set forth a creed in which the perfect\ndoctrine was taught concerning the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.\nThen it decreed that it was lawful for nobody to propose or teach\nothers another faith. Those who should dare to do it, if bishops or\nclergy, were to be deposed; if laymen, to be anathematized.\" Now,\nin violation of this canon, one King Reccared, in Spain, in the year\n589, did ignorantly or wilfully put the procession of the Holy Ghost\nfrom the Son into the Nicene Creed, and sing the addition in his\nprivate chapel. After him it appears that Charlemagne committed the\nsame offence, and the pope, though he objected to the proceeding,\ndid not stop it. The conclusion, therefore, is that, even though\nthis doctrine be true, the civil power, or \"the crown in council,\"\ndefined it; and secondly, that the Roman pontiff is worthy of\ndeposition because he winked at this disobedience to a decree of the\noecumenical council. We consider this whole charge as rather trivial,\nand as already answered by the words of Mr. Ffoulkes himself. He\nadmits that the popes, while always defending the doctrine as true,\ndid not approve the addition to the creed in the way in which it\ntook place. It was, however, an expression of an orthodox dogma\nwhich came spontaneously from the people and bishops, in which they\nwere seconded by their rulers. The papal objection to the movement\nwas manifestly on the ground that additions to the creed should\ncome from the proper authority, and that the precedent of Reccared\nwas dangerous in practice. To say that the civil power was the\ntribunal which settled this doctrine, is to say something supremely\nridiculous, when the very words of the objector show that the whole\nmovement came from the ecclesiastical body. Catholics believe that\nthe procession of the Holy Ghost from the Son was always a part of\nthe deposit of faith, and that its expression in the symbols of the\nchurch was only the confession of a dogma ever at least implicitly\nprofessed. When the head of the church by his supreme authority\nplaced this doctrine in the creed--which he had, according to our\nbelief, an undoubted right to do--he did not sanction the action of\nReccared or Charlemagne, although he certainly gave his infallible\napproval to the dogma. We think this proceeding of the \"crown in\ncouncil\" a very harmless one. Would that Elizabeth had been as\ninnocent in regard to the church which she established!\n\nIt seems, then, that the pope did not allow the thing of which our\nobjector complains, and so charge the first falls to the ground.\n\n2. \"The Roman pontiff, however, did himself alter the creed, and thus\nbreak the canon of the Council of Ephesus.\" We admit the gravamen of\nthis accusation. The pope did, in answer to the wish of the great\nmajority of the Christian world, place the \"_Filioque_\" in the Nicene\nsymbol, or sanction its insertion. But three questions arise, the\nreply to which will settle very clearly the whole difficulty. What is\nthe true meaning of the Ephesine canon to which Mr. Ffoulkes so often\nrefers? Is the doctrine of the procession of the Holy Ghost from\nthe Son a true doctrine? Did the pontiff go beyond his authority in\nallowing its introduction into the creed?\n\nIn the first place, we find that our objector has put a singular and\nmost impossible construction upon the seventh canon of the Council\nof Ephesus, which forms the one string upon which he harps with such\na dissonant monotony. He interprets that canon to forbid any after\ndefinitions of faith, and to altogether abdicate the infallibility\nof the church. In his view the Council of Chalcedon takes up the\nsame theme, and virtually renounces for all time the power which\nChrist left on earth to teach and decide in questions of doctrine.\nIt is evident to any sane person that the church could not have\nthus renounced its own gifts, and practically voted itself out of\nexistence. And facts beyond all question prove that such an idea\nnever entered into the heads of the fathers of Ephesus or Chalcedon.\nThe Roman pontiff, as the head of the Catholic Church, and the\ncouncils which have been assembled under his direction, have ever\ndealt with heresy as did the first five councils, and have even made,\nas time rendered it necessary, fresh definitions of faith. By Mr.\nFfoulkes's construction of the canons, the popes and all the western\nbishops have been deposed and excommunicated since the Fifth General\nCouncil.[147]\n\nThe simple truth is, that the Ephesine canon only forbade any one to\nbring in a faith _contrary_ to the one already defined, and never\ndreamed of denying the office of the church to do for future ages\nwhat the _Ecclesia docens_ was then doing for its own times. The\nwords of the council are, \"It shall be lawful for no one to put forth\nanother faith than that defined by the Fathers of Nice,\" \"_Alteram\nfidem nemini licere proferre, pr\u00e6ter definitam a Sanctis Patribus\nqui in Nic\u00e6\u00e2 cum Sancto Spiritu congregati fuerunt._\" Any person\nnot bewildered by religious eccentricities can easily see that this\ncanon, in the first place, only refers to any denial of the creed\nof Nice; and, secondly, that it has in view the actions of private\nindividuals, and in no way that of the church collectively or its\nsupreme ruler. Mr. Ffoulkes then harps upon the creations of his\nown fancy, and the legitimate consequence of his conclusions is the\nannihilation of the whole ecclesiastical body, and the _reductio ad\nabsurdum_.\n\nBut is the doctrine of the procession of the Holy Ghost from the\nSon true or false, according to authorities which even our objector\nconsiders adequate? Those who are best acquainted with patristic\ntheology tell us that this doctrine was always taught by both\neastern and western fathers, though the mode of expression might\ndiffer. The Greeks afterward misunderstood the Latin \"_Filioque_\"\nas if in the act of spiration the Father and the Son were as two\ndistinct principles. The Latins, however, objected to the preposition\n\"per,\" as if in the eternal act the Son were only an instrument or\ncanal. The dogma that the Holy Ghost proceeds eternally from the\nFather and the Son as from one principle, and in one action, was\nunquestionably the belief of the early church. Pope Hormisdas, A.D.\n521, seventy years before the conversion of Reccared, thus writes\nto the emperor, \"It is known to all that the Holy Ghost proceeds\nfrom the Father and the Son under one substance of the Deity.\" The\nsame doctrine is clearly stated in the synodical epistle of St.\nCyril of Alexandria. There is no necessity in this place to refer\nto other authorities, which are very numerous. The Roman pontiff,\nacting, as Catholics believe, in his capacity as the head of the\nchurch, allowed this dogma to be confessed in the Constantinopolitan\ncreed; and afterward the Synod of Florence, at which Greek bishops\nwere present, solemnly defined it. The action in this matter of the\nholy see is very simply stated. It is hard to say at what precise\ntime the \"_Filioque_\" was first inserted in the symbol of faith. It\nseems to have been used in Spain in the time of Reccared, and thence\nto have passed into Germany, Gaul, and Italy. The objection of the\npope to its introduction in the first instance was, that it was done\nby private individuals and without authority. Thus, St. Leo III.,\nwhile commanding the doctrine to be taught, orders its ejection from\nthe creed only on this ground. So much is taught us by Mr. Ffoulkes\nhimself. At last, when its use became general and was demanded by the\nconsent of all, Benedict VIII. gave to it his supreme sanction.\n\nThe question now arises, if the Roman pontiff exceeded his authority\nin this action? By the testimony of fathers and councils, we are\ncertain that he only sanctioned the confession of a doctrine received\nby the early church, and solemnly defined by later days as a part of\nthe original deposit of faith, and as contained in the revelation\nof the mystery of the Holy Trinity. Had he the right thus to act in\ncontroversies of faith? If he had not, then not in this instance\nalone, but in many others has he gone beyond the bounds of his\nauthority, and objectors might as well find fault with every pope\nfrom St. Peter down as to weary themselves over a single fact of\nhistory. The popes have always claimed the right thus to act, and\nthe Christian world has yielded it to them, and Catholics believe\nthat they have it from Christ. According to the Catholic doctrine,\nthe papacy is essential to the constitution of the church. There\ncould no more be a church without the pope than a man without ahead.\nWriters like Mr. Ffoulkes do not seem to comprehend this, and so,\ntaking for granted that which should be proved, indulge in much\nself-complacency. We pass on, then, to examine whether the Roman\npontiffs owe any of the power which they exercised to the forged\ndecretals of Isidore.\n\n3. It is now pretty well settled that the Isidorian collection of\ncanons had their origin in France, and not at Rome, and that they\nwere framed not in the interest of the holy see, whose powers were\nunquestioned, but in the interest of the bishops. The decretals of\nthe popes and of the oecumenical councils formed the canon law of\nthe church; and the first code of canons which received any kind of\nofficial sanction at Rome was that of Dionysius in the sixth century.\nWhenever the need of a new rule was felt, the pontiffs legislated by\ntheir decretals, the originals of which were preserved in the papal\narchives. That these decretals had full authority, appears by the\nepistles of Celestine I. and Leo the Great, and from the preface of\nDionysius to his collection. The false decretals of Isidore began\nto be circulated about the year 853, and at first attracted little\nattention. Pope Nicholas I., in a letter to Hincmar of Rheims, A.D.\n863, commanded that \"no one should dare to pronounce a judgment\nexcept in accordance with the canons of Nic\u00e6a, and of the other\ncouncils, and in agreement with the decrees of the Roman pontiffs\nSiricius, Innocent, Zosimus, Celestine, Boniface, Leo, Hilary,\nGregory, and others, saving in all things the rights of the apostolic\nsee.\"\n\nHe makes no reference to the decretals of Isidore, which were then\ngaining acceptance, and certainly never thought of basing his\nauthority upon them. These decretals may be reduced to three classes:\nfirst, the genuine canons or decrees of popes; second, those which\nwere substantially genuine; third, those which were wholly spurious.\n\"This last class,\" says the _American Cyclop\u00e6dia_, \"only contained\nwhat already existed. The evil done by this forgery was to history\nand erudition, and not to the discipline of the church.\" They were\nin accordance with the recognized ecclesiastical system, and good\ncounterfeits of the true decretals. It was not wonderful, therefore,\nthat they should have gradually come into use, as a genuine\ncollection of the early code of the church. For two centuries\nafter their first appearance, they remained neglected by the popes,\nand apparently unknown to them. With the exception of one or two\nquotations by Hadrian II. and Stephen IV., no one of the pontiffs\nreferred to them before the middle of the eleventh century. After\nthis period, when they were generally received, and no doubt was\nentertained of their authenticity, the popes began to quote them with\nthe same freedom as was used in the case of the Hadrianic collection.\n\nWe remark, therefore, that the forgery was neither favored nor\npatronized by the Roman pontiffs; and secondly, that the false\ndecretals gave to the pope no power which he did not already possess,\nand that by universal consent. For the proof of the latter assertion\nwe need only cite one or two authorities.\n\nIn the first place, one must be endowed with a marvellous credulity\nto believe that a private collection of canons could have had the\npower to convert the bishop of Rome from a pastor of a particular\ncity or country into the ruler of the whole church, the possessor of\nprerogatives before unknown to the Christian world. And the marvel\nis increased when we consider that this great change must have taken\nplace without any protest by the patriarchs or councils who were\nthus called upon to pay obedience to a new ecclesiastical superior.\nHe that can believe this can believe any thing, no matter how absurd\nit may be. The truth is, that the false decretals could not have\nobtained so easy acceptance and universal recognition if they had not\nbeen in accordance with the received doctrine and constitution of the\nchurch.\n\nIn the second place, the careful study of the earlier oecumenical\ncouncils will persuade any honest mind that the papal supremacy was\nfirmly established in the heart of Christendom. The Synod of Sardica\nsolemnly acknowledged the supreme authority of the Roman pontiff;\nand in so doing it did not constitute any new order of things, but\nsimply recognized a fact of divine institution. No council ever\npretended to give any power to the apostolic see, but simply to\nenunciate, as belonging to the very constitution of the church, the\nrights and dignity given to St. Peter and his successors from Christ.\nFour hundred years before the forgery of the decretals, Innocent I.\nwrites, in accordance with the canon law of his age, \"If weighty\nmatters come to be discussed, (_caus\u00e6 majores_,) they are to be\nreferred to the apostolic see after the judgment of the bishops,\naccording as the synod has established and the holy custom requires.\"\nIn thus claiming the prerogatives of the Roman see the pontiffs\nare all of one accord from the earliest day. The code of Justinian\ndeclares, \"We do not allow that any thing which concerns the affairs\nof the church should pass unreferred to his blessedness the Roman\npontiff, for he is the head of all the holy priests of God.\" Thus,\nGelasius in his decree at the Council of Rome, 494, says, \"The holy\nRoman Catholic and Apostolic Church was placed over all the churches\nby no synod, but obtained the primacy by the voice of our Lord and\nSaviour himself.\" \"No one ever,\" says Boniface I., \"attempted to lift\nup his hand against the apostolic greatness, from whose judgment\nthere is no appeal whatever.\" The Eighth General Council (869)\ndefined the supremacy of the Roman see in the strongest terms, and\nthe formula of Pope Hormisdas was signed by the Greek bishops and\npatriarchs. In this formula it is distinctly stated that \"in the\napostolic see the true faith is ever preserved immaculate,\" and that\n\"they who consent not to this see are separate from the communion of\nthe Catholic Church.\" The formula also quotes the words of our Lord,\n\"_Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church_.\" The\nGreek schism, however, required the reassertion of this doctrine, and\nit was accordingly defined as of faith in the Fourth Lateran Council,\na.d. 1215; again in the second of Lyons, A.D. 1274, and again in the\nCouncil of Florence, A.D. 1439. The language of this latter synod is,\n\n     \"We define that the apostolic see and the Roman pontiff hold the\n     primacy in the whole world, and that the Roman pontiff himself is\n     the successor of blessed Peter, the prince of the apostles, the\n     true vicar of Christ, the head of the whole church, and the father\n     and teacher of all Christians; and that to him, in the person\n     of Peter, our Lord Jesus Christ gave full power to feed, rule,\n     and govern the whole church, as is contained in the acts of the\n     oecumenical councils and the sacred canons.\"\n\nIn this definition the Greeks, who were represented at this synod,\nfully concurred.[148] The year following, the Patriarch Metrophanes,\nby an evangelical letter, announced to the whole oriental world the\nreunion of the Greek and Latin churches, mentioning at the same time\nthe doctrines defined in the decree of reconciliation. The singular\ncharges made by Mr. Ffoulkes against the Council of Florence and\nPope Eugenius merit perhaps a brief notice. He denies the regularity\nof the council, and accuses the pope of every kind of duplicity to\ncontrol and beguile the Greek bishops. In reply to these accusations\nit may be well to state what we admit and what we deny. We admit that\nthe act of the twenty-fifth session of Basle, which named Florence\nas the place of assembly, was not passed by the majority of the\nvotes, but by the minority. We admit that the pope chose an Italian\ncity, and that he guaranteed to the eastern bishops a safe-conduct\nhome. We deny that he exceeded the bounds of his authority or acted\nwith any cunning or duplicity toward the Greeks, who were anxious\nto promote a reunion, and especially desirous to meet the Latin\nbishops at the very place which the papal legates designated.\nThe minority of the Council of Basle comprised the best and most\ninfluential prelates, while the majority was composed chiefly of\nsimple country priests, and of servants of the bishops, who had been\nadmitted into the congregations with the right of voting. It is also\nCatholic doctrine that the pope, who alone has the power to call\nan oecumenical council, has the right to transfer it, when called,\nfrom one place to another. The reason why Florence was chosen is\nevident enough to any honest reader of history. There was no \"barter\nof temporal and spiritual gains\" between the pope and the emperor.\nThe eastern bishops signed the decrees with perfect willingness, and\nno constraint was used with them. Even before the interview between\nthem at the council many of them had pressed the emperor to act in\nthis matter of reunion, and went so far as to declare that, should he\nrefuse to take part, they would assume the responsibility themselves.\nThere is nothing which Eugenius did which any pontiff would not have\ndone, who, under the circumstances which surrounded him, felt called\nto seek the peace and salvation of the eastern churches. All attempts\nto injure the credit or authority of the Council of Florence prove\nunavailing to any one who receives facts as they are, without color\nof prejudice.\n\n4. It is, however, time to notice what Mr. Ffoulkes asserts in\nregard to the Crusades. The pontiff who, according to him, had\nbuilt up an authority upon forged decretals, sought by means of the\nCrusades to \"complete by force the ecclesiastical aggrandizement\nof the papacy.\" \"He attempted to subjugate the churches of the\neast to that of Rome in the way opposed to the canons, and this\nwas exactly what he completed on the capture of Constantinople.\"\nThe answer to this charge, as far as the animus of the pope was\nconcerned, has already been made. We have shown how Innocent III.\nhad no need to build up a power which he already possessed, and\nwhich his predecessors for centuries had claimed and exercised.\nThen it is simply untrue that the popes had any idea of subjugating\nthe eastern churches in the encouragement which they gave to the\nCrusades. Let Mr. Ffoulkes refute himself. In his _Christendom's\nDivisions_ he acknowledges that \"for two hundred years the east had\nbeen calling upon the west for assistance, and that the principal\nactors in these wars advocated a great cause, and one of the holiest\nstruggles ever undertaken in self-defence.\" There was only one reason\nwhy the Christian arms were turned against Constantinople, and that\nwas the necessity of protecting the Crusaders against treachery\nand destruction by Greek perfidy. \"There was a growing feeling in\nEurope,\" says Mr. Ffoulkes, \"that the Greeks were at the bottom of\nall the misfortunes of the Latins in the east.\" Of Conrad's army\nsixty thousand fell beneath the swords of the Mussulmans through the\ntreason of the Greek guides. The emperor made every effort to ensnare\nthe formidable army of Louis VII., and forced the third Crusade,\nat great loss, to get to the Holy Land by sea. Barbarossa could\nhardly save his soldiers from the insidious artifices which were\nplotted against him. But let the historian Gibbon, whose judgment is\ncertainly not partial to the Latins, decide the matter:\n\n     \"It was secretly and perhaps tacitly resolved,\" he says, \"by the\n     prince and people (Greek) to destroy, or at least to discourage\n     the pilgrims by every species of injury and oppression, and their\n     want of prudence and discipline continually afforded the pretence\n     or the opportunity. The western monarchs had stipulated a safe\n     passage and a fair market in the country of their Christian\n     brethren; the treaty had been ratified by oath and hostages, and\n     the poorest soldier of Frederic's army was furnished with three\n     marks of silver to defray his expenses on the road. But every\n     engagement was violated by treachery and injustice, and the\n     complaints of the Latins are attested by the honest confession of\n     a Greek historian who has dared to prefer truth to his country.\n     Instead of a hospitable reception, the gates of the cities, both\n     in Europe and Asia, were closely barred against the Crusaders,\n     and the scanty pittance of food was let down from the walls....\n     In every step of their march they were stopped or misled; the\n     governors had private orders to fortify the passes and break\n     down the bridges against them; the stragglers were pillaged and\n     murdered; the soldiers and horses were pierced in the woods by\n     arrows from an invisible hand; the sick were burnt in their beds;\n     and the dead bodies were hung on gibbets along the highways. These\n     injuries exasperated the champions of the cross, who were not\n     endowed with evangelical patience, and the Byzantine princes, who\n     had provoked the unequal conflict, promoted the embarkation and\n     march of these formidable guests.\"\n\nAs far as Innocent III. is concerned, it is evident from his letters\nthat he was wholly averse to the capture of Constantinople, and that\nhe accepted the establishment of the new empire only as a means of\nsecuring the soil which had been hallowed by the footsteps of our\nLord. And when he appointed Thomas Morosini in the place of John\nLamater, who had deserted his see, he only used his supreme authority\nas the head of the church.\n\n     \"Innocent,\" says Mr. Ffoulkes, \"was no lawless invader of the\n     rights of others, but rather one of the most eminent and exact\n     canonists that ever adorned the chair of Peter; and if he took the\n     loftiest views of the prerogatives of his see, it was because he\n     believed them to be thoroughly consonant with law and equity.\"\n\nWe think our objector must have been driven for argument, and\nsomewhat demented, when he sought the Crusades for witnesses against\nthe authority and conceded rights of the Roman pontiff.\n\n5. Now comes the conclusion, which is not contained in the premises,\nbut which, as the _ex cathedra_ assertion of Mr. E. S. Ffoulkes,\nhas all the value of his personal experience. He joined the\nCatholic Church some years ago, and has not yet formally renounced\nit, as far as we know, although he has incurred an _ipso facto_\nexcommunication by obstinately sustaining heretical propositions\nand refusing submission to the judgment of the holy see. He went\noften to confession and communion until he was refused permission\nto receive the sacraments. He does not tell the world that he\npurposes to leave us, though he does say that he ought never to have\nabandoned the English Church, whose memories still expand his heart.\nHe charges the pope with being an usurper by many means of fraud,\nand he even seems to deny any patriarchal jurisdiction in England.\nBeing a judge of the operations of the Holy Spirit, he finds that\nconverts do not become any more pious by their submission to Rome,\nand to his mind the Protestant parsonage is \"the perfect ideal of\npractical Christianity.\" To illustrate what a peculiar mind he has,\nwe will only add, as a piece of curious information, that he draws\nconclusions from what the Council of Trent did not do. \"Luther was\nexcommunicated, but the Confession of Augsburg has not been yet\nanathematized.\" \"Queen Elizabeth was deposed, but the council\ndeliberately abstained from affirming that the bishops consecrated in\nher reign were no bishops.\" \"Even the Thirty-nine Articles _escaped\ncensure_.\" \"Anglican orders, if they have not been recognized in\npractice, have never been declared invalid; still less have the\ngrounds of their invalidity been set forth.\" Our readers who know\nany thing of ecclesiastical history may judge whether Mr. Ffoulkes\nis sane or not. What else did the Council of Trent do but condemn\nthe peculiar tenets of Augsburg, and the doctrines contained in the\nThirty-nine Articles? Can any thing be plainer than this? How have\nAnglican orders been passed over in silence, or even delicately\nhandled? Every child who reads the Catholic catechism knows that holy\norder is a sacrament that cannot be reiterated without sacrilege. Yet\nin every instance where an Anglican minister has been advanced to any\norder of the clergy, ordination has been given, as to a mere layman,\nand that without any condition whatever. Such has been the invariable\npractice of the church, and this upon the highest authority, so that\nit has passed into a universal rule. \"Anglican orders,\" he says,\n\"have never been declared invalid; still less have the grounds of\ntheir invalidity been set forth.\" We will quote him a decision of the\nHoly Office and a decree of the pope, bearing date April 17th, 1704.\nAs he has found so many things which are substantially untrue, why\ndid he not find this decree before he ventured to publish his letter?\nWe give as nearly a literal translation as possible:\n\n     \"In the general Congregation of the Holy Roman and Universal\n     Inquisition, held in the apostolical palace at St. Peter's,\n     in the presence of our most holy lord, Clement XI., by divine\n     providence pope, and the most eminent and reverend lords, the\n     cardinals of the holy Roman Church, the aforesaid memorial having\n     been read, our most holy lord, the aforesaid pope, having heard\n     the sentiments of the same eminent personages, decreed that the\n     petitioner, John Clement Gordon, be promoted from the commencement\n     to all, even the holy orders, and the priesthood; and that, as he\n     has not been fortified by the sacrament of confirmation, he be\n     confirmed.\"\n\nDr. Gordon was the Anglican bishop of Galloway. He went to Rome,\nand was there received into the communion of the church. The whole\nquestion of his orders was carefully examined, and the above is\nthe conclusion of the supreme authority of the Roman pontiff. \"The\ngrounds of the invalidity of English orders have never been set\nforth,\" says Mr. Ffoulkes. Let us still further quote the petition in\nthe case of Dr. Gordon:\n\n     \"It cannot be granted that they (the Anglican bishops) have\n     received the ministry from Catholics, since no evidence is\n     produced of successive ordination. Without this, there remains no\n     vestige of consecration with these heretics, besides a ministry\n     derived from the people or a lay-prince. Moreover, supposing\n     even that some one of them had received, by means of legitimate\n     succession, the episcopal ordination and consecration, (which,\n     however, is by no means proved,) still, their orders must now be\n     pronounced invalid _through the defect of matter, form, and due\n     intention_.\"\n\nWe presume the argument in this case will have little weight with\nour objector or his friends; but we trust no one will say again that\nRome has never pronounced a judgment on the question of Anglican\norders. Still, after the letter we are reviewing, as well as many\nthings we have seen and heard in the ritualistic quarter, we can\nnever be taken by surprise again. Should they tell us that the pope\nis excommunicated by his own decree, it will not ruffle our peace;\nfor in the Protestant religion each man is an infallible pontiff,\nwhose decisions go beyond the domain of faith, and rule in the field\nof history and science. \"If facts are not to our liking in the past,\nlet us rewrite them, and make a history to suit ourselves,\" is the\nlanguage of their acts.\n\nWe are not disposed to battle with the personalities of Mr. Ffoulkes.\nPerhaps he has an improper standard by which to determine the degrees\nof sanctity; and this is likely to be the case if the \"English\nparsonage with its surroundings\" is the norm of perfection. Where\nmen are as mere men, we put one against another, and set forth the\nhundreds of converts in our own day with their experience against\nMr. E. S. Ffoulkes and one or two others. Hundreds can testify that\nthey have seen more of real piety and true devotion in the Catholic\nChurch than they had ever dreamed possible before they knew the only\nmother of saints. Words are of little value, and assertions can be\nbandied about from one mouth to another. Deeds are the test--deeds of\nself-denial, patience, and unselfish charity.\n\nAs for the sincerity of those who are seeking the truth, and are in\nfervor at the first sight of the Catholic faith, we have only to say\nthat so long as they are obedient to the heavenly voice which calls\nevery honest heart to the one home of holiness, it is well with their\nsouls. When the crisis comes, and the hour when action must decide\nthe forward or backward march of the intellect, moved and enlightened\nby grace, then is God chosen for ever, or renounced. Then grace may\nlinger around the heart which it loved, and only slowly withdraw,\nleaving still the attractions of nature, and the good gifts which\nare only for time, and bear no fruit in eternity. We would not dare\nto judge where grace ends and nature begins, for both orders are\nsingularly blended in this scene of probation. But one thing we do\nknow--God is true, though every man be a liar. He cannot fail us;\nhis revelation cannot pass away into a fable. \"The pillar and ground\nof the truth\" standeth firm. And notwithstanding Mr. Ffoulkes's\nconvictions, we are not afraid to trust our good works to the\njudgment of mankind. Tares are mixed with the wheat; the net of Peter\nincloses good and bad fishes, and scandals must be found even in the\nhouse of God; but nevertheless, in quiet and unostentatious beauty\nthe true spouse of Christ is ever bringing forth fruits which, though\nunappreciated on earth, shall bloom beyond the skies in the sunlight\nof God's presence. Sacrifice is a law of Catholic piety which takes\nits type from Calvary and its inspiration from the Sacred Heart.\nWe live in a different atmosphere from our Protestant brethren,\nand self-denial is second nature to us; self-denial practised so\nspontaneously that the effort and the trial are hidden in the\ngraciousness of the Christian life. No sect, and no individuals, with\nsome rare exceptions, have caught the spirit of our religion, which\nmakes heroic virtue easy, and hides real sanctity in many hearts that\nbeat only for God. If Mr. Ffoulkes did not find that perfect rest for\nhis intellect and his heart which he expected in the Catholic Church,\nthe reason of this is, that he never submitted himself unreservedly\nto her supreme and infallible authority and guidance. Humility and\nobedience are the touchstone of true Catholic virtue, and in both\nthese qualities his writings and conduct show him to be singularly\nwanting. We wish for him a better mind, and the grace of a genuine\nconversion, and we trust that he may yet repair the grievous wrong he\nhas done to religion by his unfilial and rebellious conduct toward\nour holy mother the Catholic Church.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[147] This dilemma is nothing at all in Mr. Ffoulkes's eyes. He has\nrecently published a pamphlet in which he proposes to the Council of\nthe Vatican, as a conundrum, the question whether the whole western\nchurch is under an anathema.--ED. CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\n[148] The definition was drawn up by the prelates of the Greek\nSynod, which sat separately until the act of union had been\nconsummated.--ED. CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\n\n\n\nTHE HISTORY OF THE IRISH LAND TENURE.\n\n\nThose who are not well acquainted with the condition of things\nin Ireland might easily suppose that the existence of the odious\nEstablished Church was the main cause of the dissatisfaction of\nthe Irish people, and that they would, consequently, be satisfied\nwith its disestablishment. This, however, is an error. The main\ngrievance of the Irish people remains unredressed. There is still\nin the relation of landlord and tenant in that country a very\nprolific source of future difficulty. So far only as the payment\nof tithes subtracted from the scant earnings of the peasantry,\nthe church establishment could be called an infringement on the\nrights of property; but its existence was looked upon rather as an\nencroachment upon abstract justice than as a source of material\noppression. The evils of the land tenure, however, which had their\norigin many centuries ago, and which time has somewhat modified, but\nnot obliterated, are of a far more serious and practical nature. The\nlandlord, by every test which can be applied, has a legal right to\nhis estates; yet the situation weighs heavily upon the tenant, and\nprostrates the country. Laws which should compel a proprietor to\ndispose of his property would be regarded as tending to agrarianism,\nand as an infringement upon private rights; but no country can\nbe prosperous, or its people happy, while the great body of the\npopulation is dependent upon the power and caprice of a few landed\nmonopolists. As the record of the past in this connection is an\ninteresting one--a long story, dating still further back than the\nreign of Henry II., and the latter part of the twelfth century--we\nwill review it briefly for the benefit of those who have never\nstudied carefully or have forgotten the great wrong which for\ncenturies has oppressed the Irish race.\n\nIn ancient times, in addition to the four grand divisions of\nLeinster, Munster, Ulster, and Connaught, there was another, the\nproperty of the paramount sovereign. As there does not appear to have\nbeen any rule of precedence, however, among the four kings, except\nthat of their ability to repress their rivals by force of arms, the\nterritory must have been very frequently in debate. These several\nkingdoms were subdivided into a large number of principalities,\neach inhabited by a distinct sept, and governed by its own\nchieftain, called a carfinny, or toparch. These petty chiefs were\nin their own dominions independent; they created laws, administered\njustice, made war or peace, and so long as they did not encroach\nupon the privileges of their superior sovereign, were unmolested\nand unquestioned. They were elective too; and in this respect the\nprimitive institutions of Ireland were founded upon that execrable\nsystem which has distracted and destroyed every kingdom in which it\nhas been attempted. The choice of toparchs was limited, however, by\nthe laws of tanistry to noble families; and the tanist was always\nselected upon the accession and during the lifetime of the ruling\ntoparch. Under such a system intrigue and conflict between the septs,\nand between individuals of the same sept, must have been perpetual;\nand it is easy to see that the conditions were prepared which would\nmake eventual subjugation by foreign arms an easy task.\n\nBut we now come to a still more obnoxious feature of the institutions\nof Ireland under the Milesian rule; and it will be no relief to\nthe miseries entailed upon this unfortunate island, that the same\npeculiarity, modified in other countries, existed very generally\nduring the feudal ages. The property in each district was regarded\nas the common possession of the entire sept, but the distribution of\nthe shares was intrusted to the toparch. The people themselves had\nabsolutely no property in the soil; that right belonged exclusively\nto the chief, and tenants were removed whenever it suited his\nconvenience or caprice. There were many causes that could lead to\nchange. The death of the old toparch and the accession of a new\none, the addition of new members to the sept, or the death of those\nalready in the occupancy of a piece of soil, were some of the many\ncauses that made the land tenure very precarious; and the custom\nof inheritance by gavelkind, which differed from the system of\nEngland and Wales, is thought to have perpetuated the evil. Females\nwere excluded, and no distinction was made between legitimate and\nillegitimate children. The common people were divided into freemen\nand betages. The former had the privilege of changing their sept;\nbut the latter were common property with the soil, and transferred\nwith it in every deed or sale. Under a liberal government, and by the\naid of a good administration, the people of Ireland might have been,\nin the course of seven hundred years, completely extricated from\nthis situation; but, as we shall see in the sequel, it has been the\npolicy of the Norman nobility in that country, if not of the English\ngovernment itself, to maintain as far as possible the original\ncondition of things. Such were the institutions of Ireland at the\nbeginning of the ninth century, when the Danish monarch Turgesius\noverran the entire island, and subjugated the inhabitants to his\nauthority. His dominion was of short duration, however; for at the\nbattle of Clontarf, fought on Good-Friday, A.D. 1014, the celebrated\nBrien Boiroimhe gave him a permanent leave of absence from the five\nprovinces, and a limited monarchy in the seaports. But the factions\ninherent in the Irish system of government at that time placed the\nnational independence at the mercy of a foreign aggressor, and the\nambition of the Norman element in England soon marked the island as a\nprize worthy an adventure at arms.\n\nThe immediate cause of the invasion was the act of young Dermod\nMcMurchaid, King of Leinster, who ran off with the beautiful\nDevorghal, wife of O'Rourke, and princess of Breffny. Having, by\nreason of this outrage, been driven from his kingdom, he invited\nRichard Strongbow, Earl of Pembroke, and Robert Fitzstephen, to his\nassistance. Thus the dissensions among the Irish princes opened the\nway for the adventure of the Norman noblemen. A few hundred Norman\ncavaliers, followed by comparatively a handful of infantry, were\nsufficient to secure a permanent footing, an event most singular\nwhen we take into consideration the military record which those\npeople have made since that period. But the Irish have always shown\na capacity to fight better in any other cause than their own. True,\nthe Norman adventurers from England did not succeed immediately in\nthe subjugation of the entire island. Their dominion was limited to a\nsmall area; but they found and used those elements of discord among\nthe native rulers which made their situation impregnable against\nthose who still cherished the idea of freedom and independence. The\nIrish were worsted in every considerable conflict; not so much,\nperhaps, through the superiority of their adversaries as by reason of\ntheir own disunion.\n\nThe new rulers endeavored only to consolidate their power, and made\nno effort for the reformation of existing institutions. If they found\na large proportion of the inhabitants in a condition akin to serfdom,\nthere was certainly no motive why they should desire to change\nthe situation. It only gave them more personal consideration and\npower. Hence, we find that Strongbow and his associates had hardly\nestablished themselves in their new dominions before they strove to\nperpetuate the old customs of tenure and descent. The distinction\nbetween the new settlers and the natives was carefully preserved;\nand the benefit of English laws permitted only to Normans, to the\ncitizens of seaport towns,--who were still, it is to be presumed,\nin great part Danes--and to a few who had received charters of\ndenization as a matter of personal favor. Five septs only, say the\nhistorians, were received within the English pale, and the rest were\nall accounted aliens or enemies, who, even down to the reign of\nElizabeth, had no rights which an Englishman was bound to respect.\n\nThe Great Charter, wrested from King John, and confirmed by Henry\nIII., did not benefit Ireland. English laws and jurisprudence were\nextended over those portions of the island known as the English\npale, and during the reign of King John the lands subject to the\ncrown were divided into counties, sheriffs appointed, and supreme\ncourts of law established in Dublin. But these improvements were\nmade rather as a convenience for the English than for the protection\nof the native inhabitants. During the reign of Edward I., we read\nthat Lord De Clare, connected by marriage with the Geraldines, then\nthe most powerful Norman house in Ireland, was granted extensive\ndomains in Thomond. No regard was paid to the rights of native\npossessors in this transfer, and though a war, in which the new\nproprietor was defeated by O'Brien, an Irish chieftain, was the\nresult, no considerable advantages seem to have been derived from the\nconflict. At the close of the century, we are told that all hopes of\nindependence were resigned, and eight thousand marks offered to the\nking for the rights of British subjects. No doubt the cupidity of\nthe monarch would have been gratified by so profitable a disposal of\nprivileges, but the favor was not granted by reason of the opposition\nof the local aristocracy. At the first constitutional parliament,\nsummoned in 1295 by Sir John Wogan, several judicious acts are said\nto have been passed; but we are unable to see in what manner they\noperated in favor of the native inhabitants. After the war caused\nby the invasion of Ireland by Edward Bruce, in the year 1315, the\nexaction of \"coyne and livery\" by the impoverished barons first\nappears, and the method of supporting an army by quartering it on the\npeople was instituted. During a period of active hostilities, and\nupon the territory of an enemy, such an expedient may be pardonable;\nbut in a country regulated by what was nominally a domestic\ngovernment it would be hard to perpetrate an act of grosser tyranny.\n\nTo afford an idea of the situation of the native inhabitants at this\nperiod, we will instance the statute of Kilkenny, passed in the\nyear 1367, by a parliament summoned by the Duke of Clarence. This\nprecious bit of legal wisdom provides that marriage, fosterage, or\ngossipred with the Irish, or submission to the Irish law, should be\nregarded as high treason, and punished accordingly. This fosterage\nor gossipred, of which the English legislators were so fearful, was\nthe practice, traditional among the Irish, of allowing the children\nof the nobility to be nursed by the wives of the peasantry; and the\ncustom was thought to encourage a sentiment of reciprocal kindness\nbetween the lower and the higher orders of the population. The\nstatute also declared that if any man of English descent should adopt\nan Irish name, be guilty of speaking the Irish language, or follow\nany of the customs of the country, he should forfeit his estate, or\ngive security for better conduct. It made penal the act of presenting\nan Irishman to any benefice, or his reception into any monastery.\nIt also forbade the entertainment of any native bard, minstrel, or\nstory-teller; _or the granting of permission for an Irish horse to\ngraze in the pasture of a loyal English subject_. To such a degree\nhad risen the follies of the dominant race in Ireland in the last\nhalf of the fourteenth century.\n\nDuring the reign of Henry VII. we begin to witness that struggle\nbetween the Anglo-Irish nobility and the crown which, in the end,\nwithout improving the condition of the masses, was the means of\nbreaking down many noble houses, and still further adding to the\ndistresses of the country. In the parliament of 1494, the act known\nas Poyning's law was passed. Its enactment was secured by Sir Edward\nPoyning, lord-deputy of the island, and its purpose was to prevent\nthe assembling of an Irish parliament without the consent of the\nking. It is easy to see in such an act, however wise it might have\nbeen considered, the dawn of fresh conflicts of authority.\n\nDuring the life of Queen Mary, we have an instance of what fearful\ninfamy could be perpetrated under the system of the Irish land\ntenure. The septs of O'More and O'Carroll, two chiefs who, under a\nprevious reign, had been arrested, thrown into prison, and left there\nto perish, claimed that their lands could not be justly forfeited\nthrough the offence of their toparchs; but that the ground was the\nproperty of the clans, and inalienable save through their own acts.\nAn army was the only response to this reasonable claim, and the\ninhabitants were forcibly ejected. But not this only. The butcheries\nthat signalized the act were such as to make the event infamous in\nhistory; and, in the language of a native historian, \"the fires\nof the burning huts were slaked in the blood of the inhabitants.\"\nO'Fally and Leix, the territory occupied by the unfortunate septs,\nwere converted into King's and Queen's counties, and the principal\ntowns were called Philipstown and Maryborough, in commemoration\nof the queen and her husband. This transaction was one of the\nfirst fruits of the coming supremacy of the crown over the local\naristocracy.\n\nWe now come to the reign of Elizabeth, a woman celebrated alike for\nher capacity and her vices; and such was her force of character, and\nthe consummate ability of her rule, that she has impressed her policy\nupon the history of Ireland more deeply than any other sovereign.\nWe have not the space to attempt to follow the incidents of this\nturbulent period; but must be satisfied with a short statement of\nthe policy of Elizabeth as it seems to have been developed in her\nmeasures. When the queen was cautioned against the turbulent and\ndesigning character of O'Neill, an Irish chief, and Earl of Tyrone,\nshe is said to have replied that she did not care for his rebellion,\nas it would give her possession of more lands with which to reward\nher faithful servants. Historians have endeavored to explain away the\nmeaning of this expression, by attributing it to a desire to silence\nthe enemies of the Irish nobleman; but since, from the beginning to\nthe end of her reign, the history of Ireland proves that she acted as\nthough determined to better the instruction, we have to conclude that\nin a spirit of levity she had inadvertently unmasked her deliberate\npolicy. From first to last it is only a story of rebellions provoked\nfor the purpose of destroying some Irish nobleman, that an English\nsycophant might be put in possession of his estates.\n\nThe reign of James I., which began in 1603, is regarded by English\nhistorians as favorable to Ireland; but how, it is difficult to\nunderstand. In some respects the regulations of this king were\nperhaps advantageous. The introduction of English law over the\nentire island, the abolition of tanistry and gavelkind, and the more\ngeneral institution of courts of justice, had public sentiment been\nhealthy, might have eventuated in great advantages; but the spirit\nof religious persecution, which was now becoming implacable, served\nto keep alive the animosity of the races, and all improvement was\nmore theoretic than real. Previous to this time, patents for English\ntenure had been granted only to great lords and chieftains; while\ntheir vassals, still retaining their own laws and customs, owed no\ndirect allegiance to the crown. Under the new regulation, estates\nwere to descend by the course of common law, and the people were\nplaced within its operation; but they had really no more interest\nin the soil than formerly. The king was merely substituted for the\ntoparchs, and while the chiefs were humiliated, their subjects were\nnot made more independent. The land held in demesne by the chieftain\nwas all that was left under his absolute control, but his tenants\nwere subject to an annual rent.\n\nAnother project, which originated in the fertile brain of Queen\nElizabeth, we believe, but which was not successfully executed until\nthe reign of James I., deserves especial notice. This was a plan for\ndriving out the native settlers, that their places might be filled\nby adventurers from England. Six counties out of the thirty-two into\nwhich Ireland was then divided were appropriated for carrying out\nthe experiment, and cut up into portions of one thousand, fifteen\nhundred, and two thousand acres each. The largest of these estates\nwere for undertakers and servitors of the crown, consisting of great\nofficers of state, and rich adventurers from England; those of the\nsecond-class were for servants of the crown in Ireland, and might be\npeopled by either English or Irish tenants; and those of the third\nwere for natives of the province, when it suited the undertakers\nto permit them to cultivate the soil. This scheme of cruelty was\nfollowed by another, of a still more atrocious character--the search\nafter defective titles. In the long period of civil commotions which\npreceded the reign of James I., it is to be presumed that many were\noccupying lands for which they could not show a very clear claim. If\nthe crown could get possession of property through the simple loss\nof the proof on the part of the occupant that he was entitled to his\ninheritance, a source of great public profit would be opened out.\nEighty-two thousand five hundred acres were by this means apportioned\nto English settlers, and the national exchequer was correspondingly\nenriched. Yet in spite of such transactions as these, the reign of\nKing James has been pronounced a happy one for Ireland!\n\nAt the time of the accession of Charles I., Ireland was treated\nsimply as a conquered province, not as an integral portion of the\nBritish empire, and its inhabitants still looked upon as aliens\nand enemies. They had no rights which the officers sent by royal\nauthority, and controlled by cupidity, were obliged to respect, and\nthe very desire for the possession of a piece of land inherited by\na proprietor of native descent was sufficient reason for an act of\nattainder for treason or a search after defective titles. To such an\nextent was this latter species of iniquity carried that, during the\nfirst years of the reign of Charles I., and under the administration\nof Stafford as lord-deputy, more than a quarter of a million of\nacres were wrested from the real proprietors, and transferred to the\nhands of English adventurers. Even jurors who sat upon the causes in\ndispute were imprisoned, and excessive fines imposed, if they refused\ncompliance with the wishes of the king's lieutenant.\n\nUnder these circumstances, it was only natural that the Irish should\nlook about for some means of redress. Property was becoming daily\nless secure; for the successful practice of this species of plunder\nwas a continual encouragement to fresh outrage; and there was no\nestimate of the degree to which the injury might be carried. But\nthe remedies proposed in the beginning were peaceful. The lords and\ngentry met together and drew up a bill of rights, and offered to pay\na large sum of money for the royal assent. This measure, known as\nthe Charter of Graces, by one of its provisions proposed to limit\nthe title of the king in lands to sixty years. Changes also were\nasked in the penal code, and a clause was inserted forbidding the\nlord-deputy, during his term of office, from coming in possession of\nland either by purchase or confiscation. The demands were in every\nrespect temperate, and nothing more was asked than a reasonable\nsecurity for private property, and such privileges as the dignity and\nself-respect of the subject would require. The king, when the charter\nwas first presented for his signature, was inclined to look upon its\nprovisions with favor; but through the influence, it is said, of Lord\nStrafford, he was induced to withhold his approval. But while this\nsubject was agitating with alternate hopes and fears the minds of\nthe Irish people, a new measure, or rather an extension of the old\nsystem, was planned by the lord-deputy. The success of the English\ncolonization scheme, undertaken in Ulster during the reign of James\nI., had opened the way for still another attempt at dispossessing the\nnative population of their lands; and Connaught was selected as the\nnext field for operations. This second experiment would probably have\nproved as successful as the first, if the inevitable fruit of so much\ntyranny had not come to its maturity.\n\nThe uprising of the Irish population in 1641 occurred under more\nfavorable auspices than any previous one, and had they made a united\neffort for absolute independence, England could not have resisted\nthe forces which were brought into the field against her. But the\nconfederates, as the Irish party was called, were composed of\nelements too much at variance among themselves to meet with permanent\nsuccess. The Anglo-Irish inhabitants, or those of English descent,\nwho were looking simply to the security of their property, and\nexemption from the tyranny of local officers, had no bond of union\nwith the native Irish, who sought the complete recovery of their lost\nliberties and the rehabilitation of their ancient institutions. Here\nwas a cause for faction which their enemies readily understood, and\nby which they as readily profited. The Anglo-Irish were afraid of\nthe resumption of power by the descendants of the native chieftains,\nand it was natural that they should seek to avoid such a result.\nNevertheless, led by officers whose exile from their country in\nformer years had been the means of raising them to eminence in the\narmies of France, Spain, and Germany, the confederates were very\nsuccessful, and obtained possession of almost the entire island.\nThe peasantry came down from the mountains, whither they had been\ndriven years before to give place to the English colonists, and,\nwithout bloodshed, again took peaceable possession of their lost\ndomains. Owen O'Niel, an officer who had done eminent service on\nthe continent, was the ruling spirit of the movement, and it was\nthrough his management and address that the confederacy was enabled\nto maintain such formidable proportions. But the various incidents of\nthat struggle, prolonged through several years, and ending finally\nduring the dictatorship of Cromwell, belong rather to history than to\nsuch an article as this, and we must restrict our attention to the\nresults that followed upon the triumph of the English arms.\n\nThe troops that Cromwell had brought into Ireland were the most\npuritanical of his entire army. He had probably at this period begun\nto indulge in regal aspirations; and hence he desired the removal\nfrom England of the more ultra republican and radical of his\nfollowers. It is likewise probable that he selected this class of\nmen because their religious fanaticism would make them more zealous\nin the cause. In the final settlement of the country, as Ulster and\nConnaught were already the property of the colonists, and not subject\nto confiscation, the two remaining provinces of Munster and Leinster\nhad to satisfy the claims of the army, and were accordingly portioned\nout to the followers of Cromwell. The property of the lords and\ngentry who had joined the confederation was ruthlessly confiscated.\nThe peasantry who had survived the long war were reduced to a\nstate akin to slavery, and many indeed, by order of Cromwell, were\nsold in the Barbadoes, and in other dependencies of Great Britain.\nAbout 200,000 people in all, it is estimated, left the island,\nof whom 40,000 entered the various armies of continental Europe.\nThese comprised all classes; as to the peasantry who remained, some\nestimate may be formed of their privileges when we state that they\nwere forbidden to leave their parishes, or to assemble together for\npublic worship, or for any other purpose whatever. The Cromwellian\nsoldiers of every grade, from privates to commanding officers, had\ntaken possession of the estates; and these were the new lords to whom\nallegiance was due, and by whom it was most rigidly exacted.\n\nBut the commonwealth was already crumbling to pieces. The death of\nCromwell, and the dissatisfaction caused by a government which was\naristocratic and despotic without being regal, soon paved the way for\nthe accession of Charles II., and revived the hopes of those who had\nbeen unjustly deprived of their estates at the close of the war. From\nfirst to last the Anglo-Irish portion of the confederates claimed\nthat they had been contending for Charles I., and only against his\nenemies and the parliament. Of the fact that they had desired simply\nprotection, and had been more loyal than disloyal to the throne,\nthere was abundant evidence; and it was to be presumed that the new\nking would look with more favor upon their claims than upon those of\ntheir opponents. To the end of recovering their property, therefore,\nthey began to petition the king in great numbers. That there might\nbe a semblance of justice, a court of claims was established for\nthe ostensible purpose of adjudication. But it was soon evident\nthat there was no intention of dispossessing the new proprietors;\nand when it was found that, without the most gross and palpable\nviolations of right, it would be impossible frequently not to decide\nin favor of the former occupants of the confiscated estates, the\ncourt was adjourned, and was never allowed to hold another session.\nMany thousands, by this act, were irretrievably ruined. The Duke\nof Ormond, prominent throughout the rebellion, played an important\npart, to the disadvantage of his countrymen, in these transactions,\nand added enormously to his own estates. At the beginning of the\nrebellion his property had been about nine tenths encumbered; but by\nsecuring an act transferring all encumbrances to the king, and then\nobtaining a release from his obligations in that quarter, he freed\nhimself from all his difficulties.\n\nWhen James II. ascended the English throne, about two thirds of the\nprivate property of Ireland appears to have been in dispute. The\ndispossessed proprietors were still clamoring for their rights,\nand the Cromwellian settlers and the colonists were as sturdily\nadhering to their claims, and ready at any time to defend their\nnew possessions by either legitimate or illegitimate means. The\nreign of James from the beginning was weak. The trifling rebellions\nin Scotland and England which disturbed the first years of his\nauthority were easily quelled, it is true; but he seems to have\nbeen intoxicated by his success, and led to the support of measures\nwhich were not advised by either prudence or good judgment. The\nspirit of religious intolerance was at this time most active and\nimplacable. It had been many years since the separation of the\nEnglish Church from the Catholic authority, and the time might\nhave been thought propitious for something like a recognition of\nequality between religious bodies; but James endeavored to promote\nthe interest of Catholicity with a zeal that was not to be tolerated\nby the Protestant bigotry of the day, and many of his acts gave\ngreat offence. Of this character was the appointment of the Earl of\nTyrconnel, a Roman Catholic, first to the command of the Irish army,\nand afterward to the government of Ireland itself. The Protestant\ninhabitants of that country, who knew by what a doubtful claim they\nheld their estates, could not fail of taking the alarm and looking\nforward to the day when there would be an attempt made to dispossess\nthem of the disputed property. The event proved, indeed, that their\nfears were not groundless. The act of settlement, the measure upon\nwhich the Protestant proprietors depended for the possession of\ntheir lands, became immediately the subject in debate; and it was\nsoon evident that its repeal was intended. To comprehend fully the\nmagnitude of such an undertaking, it will be necessary to glance at\nthe situation of the island at this period, and see to what an extent\nthe inhabitants of the country had been plundered of their property.\nThe whole number of acres of land in Ireland was estimated at above\n10,400,000, and of this amount 3,000,000 acres were unproductive.\nThis would leave about 7,000,000 acres of arable and pasture land,\nand 5,000,000 of these, during the reign of Charles I., were still in\nthe hands of Catholic proprietors. Then followed the revolution with\nthe irruption of Cromwell's followers. The situation became greatly\nchanged. At the time of the passage of the act of settlement, only\nabout 800,000 acres remained in the hands of Catholic proprietors.\nOf the remainder, 800,000 acres were under the control of the\ngovernment, but leased to Protestants, and 3,300,000 had gone to\nreward the prowess of the Protector's soldiers. This property had now\nbeen in the hands of its present occupants, or absentee landlords,\nfor nearly forty years. To repeal the act which settled all this\nbroad inheritance upon the adventurers was undoubtedly the intention\nof James; and although this was not the only charge which the British\naristocracy and people made against their unpopular sovereign, it was\na powerful influence in the train of events that seated the Prince of\nOrange on the English throne.\n\nExiled from London, the unfortunate James fled to Dublin. The Irish\nparliament of 1689, which was summoned by his authority, besides\nrepudiating the jurisdiction of the English courts of law and of\nthe English parliament, and proclaiming the independence of the\nIrish legislature, repealed the act of settlement; but, as the event\nproved, these acts were the mere mockery of regal and legislative\nenactments, and were not productive of even a temporary advantage to\nhis adherents. The Prince of Orange, now recognized as King William\nof England, came in person to Ireland, and the two kings confronted\neach other at the battle of the Boyne. History has told the story of\nthe discomfiture and inglorious flight of James, and of the prolonged\nand desperate struggle which the Irish afterward maintained against\ntheir adversaries; until finally the treaty of Limerick confirmed\nand strengthened the English in their possessions. Some concessions\nwere made to the Irish, it is true, but they were of a character that\naffected religion more than the tenure of property; and at the final\nsettlement, we are told, only 233,106 acres of land remained in the\nhands of Catholic proprietors.\n\nThis was the last great event that influenced to a considerable\ndegree the tenure of property in Ireland. After a struggle of about\nfive hundred years, we find the island completely at the feet of\nthe conquerors, and the descendants of the native inhabitants with\nno inheritance, or next to none, upon their own territory. We might\nhave heightened the picture by recounting the assassinations and\nbutcheries of the various wars, the outrages of military government,\nand the refined cruelties of religious persecution; but these things\ndid not enter into the purpose of this article, and we have confined\nourselves to simple statements of facts in their relation to the\ntenure of property. We have endeavored to trace the means by which\nthe great bulk of the real estate on the island has been transferred\nfrom those whose descent entitled them to a proprietary interest in\nthe soil to a class of foreign and frequently absentee landlords,\nwho manifest no interest in the country or the people save by the\nannual collection of their tenant dues. It cannot have failed to\nimpress the reader that the purpose of the English government,\nfrom the beginning, has been to crush out and destroy as far as\npracticable the native inhabitants, and to supply their place with\na foreign population. To this end only could have been designed\nthe various colonization schemes that distinguished the reigns of\nJames I. and Charles II.; the different edicts of expulsion, and the\nreadiness with which the English government has always advanced the\nwishes of those who contemplated a voluntary expatriation from their\nnative country. But in despite of all this, the proportional native\npopulation of the island has steadily increased, while in both Great\nBritain and America the Irish people have become a formidable power.\nTheir complaints and demands for redress of grievances can no longer\nbe passed by in silent contempt. The land question must be settled\nupon some basis that will not merely place the Irish peasantry upon\nthe footing of an independent tenantry, but will enable every laborer\nto look forward to the eventual possession of a portion of the soil,\nthat thus a fitting stimulus and reward may be offered to thrift and\nindustry.\n\n\n\n\nAT THE CHURCH DOOR.\n\n\nA lovely afternoon in September was drawing to its close; the\nshadows were long upon the pavement, and a gentle breeze brought the\nfragrance of heliotrope and late roses over the wall from a garden\nadjoining a handsome house in the old and well-known town of N----.\nThe hall-door opened and shut behind a young woman who walked rather\nwearily down the steps and along the street. It was evident that she\nwas not thinking of the sun, nor the breeze, nor the sweet breath of\nthe flowers; she looked neither to the right nor to the left, and yet\nher steps seemed listless and without an aim.\n\nHer dress was plain, plain almost to poverty, and without the\nslightest attempt at ornament, yet it would have been impossible to\npass her without notice. She was tall and graceful, and her features\nwere very handsome; but that was not what would have attracted your\nattention; there was a something which told she was a lady--not\nperhaps in the truest meaning of the word, as it may be applied to\na servant-girl or an apple-woman whose instincts are refined and\nChristian; but you felt that she was well-born and well-bred, and\nthat her tastes were such as would not well accord with her coarse\ndress and shabby bonnet. True, if you had been a close observer, you\nmight have seen that her boots were very pretty, her gloves of the\nbest kid, very fresh and unworn at the finger-tips, and it might have\nsurprised you to see that on her ungloved hand sparkled a splendid\nruby. But enough for exterior description; the face, though so fair,\nwas clouded and preoccupied, and as she walked she drew a letter\nfrom her pocket and glanced at its contents.\n\n\"He appoints seven o'clock to meet me,\" she said to herself, \"on the\nstone seat outside the Catholic church. A strange place to choose! I\nwish it had been somewhere else! Yet why should I care? What is that\nchurch to me more than another? And soon I shall give my promise that\nit shall be less than every other. It is a kind offer, a generous\noffer; but I will not exchange you\"--here she gave a contemptuous\ntwitch to her dress--\"for a better till my wedding day. He and every\none shall see that I consider myself his equal, even in these shabby\nclothes. O dear me! how tired I am! How that wretched child insisted\non playing discords with the pedal! I will not go home, it is so far;\nbut rest somewhere, and think how I can accept him most graciously.\nI might as well sit on the stone seat here outside the church; the\nshade of that tree looks inviting.\"\n\nAgnes--for that was the name of the girl whose reverie we have put\ninto words for the benefit of our readers--had come to the pretty\nchurch where Mr. Redfern had appointed to meet her. She sat down on\nthe bench outside, and we will take this opportunity to tell who she\nwas and why she waited there.\n\nAgnes Deblois was the only child of Catholic parents; they were\nwealthy, and as she was their idol, she was surrounded with friends,\ncomforts, and pleasures; with every thing, in short, that makes life\nbright and beautiful. She had been carefully instructed and trained\nin her religion by her excellent and fond mother; and it was a great\nmisfortune to her when this pious lady died, leaving her daughter,\nat the age of seventeen, to the care of a father who was a negligent\nand unpractical Catholic. Agnes was devoted to her father, and,\ninfluenced by his example and by the ridicule of her worldly friends,\nshe allowed herself gradually to abandon her habits of piety and\nthe duties of her religion. After three years, during which Agnes\nhad been engrossed by the engagements and excitements of life \"in\nsociety,\" her father also died; when it was discovered not only that\nhe had lived beyond his means, but that he was even largely in debt.\nBy selling house, silver, and estate, Agnes was enabled to satisfy\nall the creditors, and, finding herself almost without a dollar, she\nlooked around for her friends, whose protestations of devotion she\nrecalled, and to whose sympathy she naturally turned. But she was\nshocked at the change she found even in those of whose fidelity she\nhad felt sure.\n\nShe was offered assistance, it was true, and even a home, yet with\na coldness and constraint which showed she was considered in the\nlight of a burden. From being almost crushed by the grief of her\nbereavement, her spirit rose as the bitterness of her situation\nbecame apparent, and she very soon resolved to be indebted to no one\neither for home or for bread. Her education had been thorough and\nsuperior; for music she had a rare talent, and she found it easy\nto obtain as many pupils as her strength would allow her to attend\nto. She threw herself into her new duties with an ardor which arose\nfrom wounded pride, but which was destined to grow cool as the\nirksomeness of the daily routine and unloveliness of the continual\npresence of poverty wore upon her. It was hateful to her to be poor;\nto wear clothes which, however neat and even pretty she might make\nthem, must still be plain and cheap. So she gave up all attempt at\nornament, and took a bitter pleasure in wearing what was coarsest\nand most unattractive for her dress, though allowing herself, as she\nwas able, what was best in such small articles as gloves, and still\nwearing the handsome jewels she had preserved from her former life.\nFor this she was greatly blamed, and even reproved by those who\ncalled themselves her friends, and who were scandalized at the bad\ntaste of wearing dresses which a beggar might despise with ornaments\nwhich, it must be confessed, were handsomer than their own; but Agnes\npaid no attention, and went on her own difficult and joyless path.\n\nFormerly she had neglected her religion from carelessness and human\nrespect; now she kept away from church because she was always tired\nand always sad, and because she no longer cared for the faith of her\nmother and of her own happy childhood. But now a wonderful thing\nhad happened to her. She had come to this beautiful and fashionable\nplace in the summer because her pupils were there, and because, as\nshe took pleasure in saying, she wanted their money, and at the house\nof the richest and proudest of them all she had seen Mr. Redfern, a\nman of immense wealth, who had noticed her, found opportunities of\npaying her attentions, and now had asked her to marry him. She had\nhis letter in her pocket, and she took it out once more as she sat\noutside the church, and read a passage from it:\n\n     \"The only thing I ask of you is this: that you will give up, now\n     and for ever, all interest in the Romish Church.\"\n\n\"A needless request,\" she said, and laughed as she said it, while\nher heart gave a leap as she thought of herself at the head of Mr.\nRedfern's handsome house, sitting in state behind his high-stepping\ngrays, or receiving the keys from the hands of the obsequious\nhousekeeper.\n\nA very old woman passed her and entered the church, bowing herself\nlow as she crossed the sacred threshold. Agnes watched her.\n\n\"I wonder if it is a pretty church inside? I think I have heard that\nit is pretty.\"\n\nFeeling impatient at the slowly passing time, she rose and walked\nthrough the door, and up the middle aisle. There were no doors to the\npews, and seeing one that was cushioned, she entered it, sat down,\nand leaning back, looked carelessly round her.\n\nIt was indeed a pretty church; the softened sunbeams streamed through\nthe stained glass of the Gothic windows, and fell in purple and gold\nlights on the stone floor, flickering as the old elms outside moved\ngently to and fro in the west wind. She saw the old woman she had\nbefore noticed, kneeling before a picture, then leaving it with many\nbows and courtesies, and going to another. What was she about? Oh!\nshe was saying the stations. Agnes remembered the stations--those\nfourteen grievous steps in the Passion of our Lord from his trial in\nPilate's house to his burial in the sepulchre, at the close of his\nthree hours' agony on the cross.\n\n\"Poor old thing! how her back must ache. Why does she do it? Why, she\nis crying, wiping her eyes with her apron, and lifting her hands to\nheaven! Is that for her own sorrows, or those of her Saviour?\"\n\nAgnes was interested; she sat up and looked about her.\n\n\"There are two little children coming up the aisle. Do see them bob\nup and down and cross themselves! Oh! now they are saying their\nprayers.\"\n\nWhy should Agnes see them indistinctly? Why impatiently brush\nsomething from her eyes? Ah! the picture of her childish days rose\nbefore her, and she was for a moment once more a little child....\n\nWhat nonsense! She had other things to think of now. She would have a\npurple satin dress just the color of that pretty light on the floor.\nIt was fading away; it must be near sunset. At that moment came from\na choir of sweet young voices:\n\n\"Kyrie eleison! Christe eleison!\"\n\nShe turned and saw the children practising for their Sunday-school\nMass, led by an excellent tenor; and leaning her head on her hand,\nshe listened; for so she thought the angelic choirs must sound.\n\n\"Kyrie eleison! Christe eleison!\"\n\nShe knew what those words meant. Had she not often sung them herself\nin days long past? Those dear old days!\n\nDisturbed by a slight noise, Agnes glanced around; she saw an old and\nvenerable-looking man with gray hair, whose long black dress fell\nto his feet, come up the side aisle and enter a confessional, round\nwhich silently gathered a few women, kneeling till their turns should\ncome. A vague fear took possession of her heart, and she quickly rose\nto leave the church; but something stopped her, and she stood as if\nriveted to the earth.\n\nWhat was it? Only a light, a feeble flame, which shone in a vase\nhanging before the high altar. She had not noticed it before, the sun\nhad been so bright; but it was there all the time, and would be there\nwhen she had turned her back upon it. Whose presence did the light\nreveal? Who was it that waited day and night upon that holy altar?\nAlone, unknown, forgotten--yes, and betrayed.\n\nShe uttered no sound; but her heart gave a great cry as she fell upon\nher knees.\n\n\"Kyrie eleison! Christe eleison!\" Those innocent voices still\nprolonged the hymn, though what was their need of mercy compared with\nhers? But the thought came to her that perhaps those invocations of\nGod's mercy by the little lambs of his fold would ascend in his sight\nnot for them, but for her, for the strayed sheep; and thinking thus,\nshe felt herself comforted. Kneeling motionless with her head bowed\non her hands, she did not pray, nor weep, but only _saw_.\n\nShe saw herself a little child robed in white, one of a band of\nmany little ones, with her shining veil, a true marriage garment,\nreceiving at the altar for the first time her God and Saviour.\n\nShe saw herself again, still a child, but older, kneeling again to\nreceive the bishop's hand on her forehead, and hearing the sacred\nwords, _Signo te signo crucis_. _Confirmo te chrismate salutis._[149]\n\nShe saw her mother lying pale and faint, but with eyes full of light\nand peace, and heard those dying words, \"My only child, remember that\nhe who is ashamed of the Son of Man here, of him will He be ashamed\nbefore His Father in heaven. Remember that, and remember your best\nFriend.\" Who was that Friend?\n\nShe saw herself not once, but many, many times, blushing at the name\nof her faith, hearing it despised and turned into ridicule; at last\ndenying it and becoming a scoffer herself. Whom had she denied and\ndespised?\n\nShe thought of the friends who had deserted her, and the answer came,\n\"Because I have deserted my best Friend.\"\n\nShe remembered her weary labors and thankless efforts, and a voice\nreplied, \"But my yoke is sweet, and my burden light.\"\n\nShe said to herself, \"But there is one who has offered me enough to\npay for all I have lost;\" and once more the Holy Ghost spoke to her\nheart, \"Come unto me, you that labor and are burdened, and I will\nrefresh you.\"\n\nThat was meant for her; that was what she wanted for her weary,\ntroubled soul. \"For the life is more than the meat, and the body more\nthan the raiment.\"\n\nThe voices of the children were silent as she once more rose and\nlooked about her. There was no one kneeling at the altar now; shadows\nhad fallen deeply upon the pavement; she was alone in the church. No!\nfor yonder at the window stood the priest, holding his breviary up\nhigh to catch the fading light. What was he waiting for? Who was it\nthat waited long, long hours in that holy tribunal of penance for the\nstraying, lost sheep to come back to the fold? Her every question was\nanswered, and, urged by an impulse she could not resist, she rose and\nhurried to the confessional, thinking as she cast an imploring glance\ntoward the priest, \"Will he see me? Will he come and save me?\"\n\nShe knelt trembling, scarcely daring to breathe, till she heard his\nstep approaching, and in a moment the long unheard, yet strangely\nfamiliar words, \"_Dominus sit in corde tuo et in labiis tuis, ut rite\nconfitearis omnia peccata tua_.\"[150]\n\n\"Well, my child?\"\n\nWell may we let the curtain drop, not to penetrate that sacred\nconfidence. O poor soul! thou art safe. There are hymns of joy and\nthanksgiving ascending to the eternal Father; for we know \"there is\njoy before the angels of God upon one sinner doing penance.\"\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[149] \"I sign thee with the sign of the cross. I confirm thee with\nthe chrism of salvation.\"\n\n[150] \"May the Lord be in thy heart and on thy lips, that thou mayst\ntruly and humbly confess thy sins.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nHalf an hour later, as the clock struck seven, Mr. Redfern stood at\nthe church door, and asked an old woman whom, with beads in hand, he\nmet hobbling out, if she had seen a young lady waiting there.\n\n\"No,\" she answered readily; \"but there was a beautiful lady inside,\non her knees before the holy Mother of God. Bless her sweet face!\"\n\nWith a terrible fear in his heart, he entered the church, and stood\nbeside a form bowed before the altar dedicated to the Immaculate\nMother. He touched her arm, and Agnes raised her face, suffused with\nhappy tears, yet smiling. She looked at him bewildered--for she had\nforgotten all about him--as he said, in a whisper,\n\n\"Have you lost your senses? Come with me. I want to speak to you.\"\n\nShe rose obediently and followed him to the door. The tall tree-tops\nwaved in the breeze, and the young moon stood in the sky. She was\nstill silent, motionless, and he said in a hoarse voice, that\ntrembled in spite of his efforts to control it, \"Are you coming with\nme?\"\n\n\"No,\" she answered, \"I must go back; I cannot leave It yet.\"\n\n\"What do you mean? I came for an answer to my letter. Have you read\nit?\"\n\nShe made a strong effort, and replied, \"Yes, I read it; but I have\nfound peace and my faith again, and I forgot that you were coming. O\nMr. Redfern! for years I have been ashamed of the Son of God; but I\ndid not remember, till to-day, that he would be ashamed of me before\nhis Father. How could I bear that? But now he has forgiven me, and\nmade me happy, oh! so happy. I must go back to him.\" And she looked\nat the door.\n\nMr. Redfern stood speechless for a moment. \"I could not have a papist\nwife,\" he said slowly. \"So this is my answer, is it?\"\n\nBut Agnes had already turned away, and in a moment more was kneeling\nagain beneath that faithful light, forgetting all but her love and\ngratitude; and as the lamps were lighted in the choir, the children's\nglad and rapturous voices chanted,\n\n\"_Gloria in excelsis Deo, et in terra pax hominibus bon\u00e6\nvoluntatis._\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE CHAPEL.\n\n\n    On the outskirts of the city, where the poor and outcast dwell,\n    Is a humble little chapel, in its tower a sweet-voiced bell;\n    And beside its simple altar, with a smile serene and mild,\n    Stands a rudely-sculptured image of the Virgin and her Child.\n\n    In the early, dewy mornings, when the grass-grown walks are bright,\n    When beyond the chimneys glimmer the far mountain-tops with light,\n    Here a crowd of poor and lowly to the dust their heads incline,\n    As the chalice of salvation is uplifted o'er the shrine.\n\n    Yonder, in the great cathedral, oriel tints the banners stain,\n    On the purple and the mitre slanting down the pictured pane;\n    And the statues high in niches, and the chanting of the choir,\n    All art's mighty inspirations to the tired heart say, \"Aspire!\"\n\n    Here heaven's pure white light streams inward; here through open\n        windows sweet\n    Blow the fresh airs on the wild flowers at the Virgin Mother's feet,\n    And sweet, silvery, girlish voices sweetly chant a simple strain,\n    Such as shepherds might have chanted on the old Chaldean plain.\n\n    Often when my heart grows restless, burdened with earth's cares,\n        and sore,\n    Come I to this humble chapel, kneel down on the wooden floor;\n    Those poor ragged outcasts round me, praying side by side with them,\n    Wondrously I seem drawn nearer to the crib of Bethlehem.\n\n    These pale faces, seamed and weary, seeking solace here, and peace,\n    Speak more eloquent a language than the olden seers of Greece;\n    More than Plato taught when round him stood the Athenians rapt and\n        dumb;\n    More of wisdom than e'er echoed through the groves of Tusculum.\n\n    The poor lives and poor endeavors of these toilers of the sod\n    Teach life's grand and noble lessons--patience, faith, and trust in\n        God;\n    And the weight of earth falls from me, for I hear a soft voice thrill,\n    And my heart lies down in quiet as it whispers, \"Peace, be still!\"\n\n                            CONSTANTINA E. BROOKS.\n\n\n\n\nTHE IMMUTABILITY OF THE SPECIES.[151]\n\nIII.\n\n\nNo alleged factor of evolution is so capable of arresting the\nattention of a physiologist as correlation of growth. To this law we\nhave before often incidentally alluded. But as we conceive that it\nfurnishes strong confirmation of our views, it behooves us to extend\nto it a somewhat more lengthy treatment.\n\nThe current impression is, that every authenticated instance of\nvariation is so much added to the probabilities of the evolution\nof the species; and that the refutation of Darwinism is rendered\ndifficult just in proportion to the number of proofs of variability.\nIt is natural, then, that Darwin should accord prominence to those\nfactors which play a part in inducing modification. Conspicuous among\nthese factors is correlation, the nearest approximation to a law of\nall the colligations of facts involved in Darwinism.\n\nCorrelation is a bond, _nexus_, or connection subsisting between\ndifferent growths. Owing to it, a modification seldom arises in any\nportion of the organism without involving a corresponding change\nin another part. It is often not a little difficult to determine\nwhich part first varies and induces the modification of the other.\nFrequently, characters simultaneously vary, and are apparently\naffected by some distinct cause. Correlation is an important subject\nfor Darwin; for, owing to its operation, varieties seldom differ\nfrom each other by a single character alone. He declares that \"all\nthe parts of the organism are, to a certain extent, connected\nor correlated together,\" and that \"of all the laws governing\nvariability, that of correlation is the most important.\" Parts,\nhowever, differ greatly with respect to the strength of their\nconnection. In some parts, the tie is ever manifesting itself; in\nothers, it is seldom traceable. Each character, when developed, tends\nto stimulate the development of others. But, owing to adversity of\nconditions, or to being systematically suppressed by man, these\ncorrelated growths lose all ability to respond to this stimulus, and,\nin consequence, fail to develop.\n\nWe intended to adduce quite a number of facts from Darwin, in order\nto enable our readers clearly to understand the precise nature of\ncorrelation. But want of space forces us to change our mind. We do\nthis with less reluctance, when we consider that those for whom\nthis article is more especially written have already familiarized\nthemselves with those facts.\n\nAll the phenomena of correlation show increase of growth\ncorresponding to increase, and decrease corresponding to decrease.\nNow, the antithesis to correlation is compensation or balancement\nof growth. This alleged law, as applied to species under nature,\nwas propounded by Goethe and Geoffroy St. Hilaire. It implies that\nthe development of any one part is attended with the reduction or\nstarvation of some other part. Not a little diversity of opinion\nexists respecting the validity of this law. Darwin inclines to\nbelieve that compensation occasionally occurs, but conceives that its\nimportance has been overestimated.\n\nWe, however, are of opinion that there is really no such law. That\ncorrelation obtains, there is not the slightest doubt. The instances\nof correlation are innumerable; and every one of them is a disproof\nof the doctrine of compensation of growth. For the law of correlation\nis totally incompatible with the law of economy of growth. The\nlatter, according to the hypothesis, makes decrease correspond to\nincrease, and increase to decrease. The former entails the reverse.\nBoth laws, then, cannot stand. One must, of necessity, fall. One must\nnegative the other. Unquestionably, the stronger law is correlation.\nThis law none can invalidate. It follows thence that there is no such\nlaw as that of compensation of growth.\n\nThe reader is now naturally desirous to know how we explain away the\nalleged cases of economy of growth. The explanation is, that they\nare merely manifestations of correlation. The reduction of the given\nparts is consequent, not, as alleged, upon the building up of some\nother parts, but upon the suppression or reduction of correlated\nparts. Strong confirmation of this view is given by the fact that\nseeming compensation of growth is more observable under nature\nthan under domestication. As development under nature is slow and\noccasional, we would expect to find, upon the theory of Goethe and\nSt. Hilaire, very few instances of apparent balancement of growth. On\nthe contrary, the instances are most numerous; which fact is strictly\nin accordance with our hypothesis. For where we find the conditions\nentailing the reduction of many parts, there must we also find the\nreduction of other parts, induced by correlation. These parts, then,\nbeing in close proximity with characters which neither the conditions\nnor correlation have affected, their suppression is naturally\nreferred to compensation of growth. Under domestication, however,\ndevelopment is carried on rapidly and to a great extent. A very large\nnumber of characters is selected and developed. Here, then, we should\nlook for the most striking manifestations of compensation of growth.\nBut it is a fact, of which the significance is at once apparent,\nthat, instead of meeting with the fulfilment of our expectations,\nthe converse thrusts itself most obtrusively upon our attention.\nNature here is most prodigal; giving growth for growth, and meeting\nthe development of one feature with the corresponding development\nof another. The cases illustrating apparent balancement of growth\nare here exceptional. They bear a very insignificant proportion to\nthose under nature. Hence we conclude that the law of compensation of\ngrowth never obtains, that its apparent manifestations are really due\nto the operation of the law of correlation.\n\nBut there are two classes of cases of which correlation is not an\ninterpretation. The first is the instances in which the tie of\ncorrelation is in a measure broken by man's selection of one part,\nand by his systematic suppression of another. Darwin refers to these\nwhen he declares it \"scarcely possible in most cases to distinguish\nbetween the supposed effects of such compensation of growth, and the\neffects of long-continued selection, which may at the same time lead\nto the augmentation of one part and the diminution of another.\"\n\nThe following is an example of the second class of cases: The Polish\nfowl is distinguished by the possession of a crest of feathers on the\nhead. In consequence of its development, there arises a protuberance\non the skull. This is due to correlation. But in the cock, the skull\nis so perforated with small holes that at any point a pin may be\nsunk to the brain. This is adduced as an instance of compensation of\ngrowth. But a rational explanation may readily be assigned. Darwin\nhas shown that the crest of feathers is abnormal in the male, that it\nnormally belongs to the female. The feature has been gained by the\nmale by the somewhat mysterious law of the transmission of secondary\nsexual characters. The economy of growth may then be considered as\nabnormal, and may reasonably be attributed to the character not\ncompletely harmonizing with its fellows.\n\nThe facts of correlation meet with an exhaustive treatment at the\nhands of Darwin. Herbert Spencer, however, almost totally ignores\nthem. Although they are seemingly most striking exemplifications\nof evolution, he passes with only an occasional incidental notice.\nWhat we conceive to be Mr. Spencer's reason for thus ignoring them,\nwe will venture to give further on. But, while Darwin extends to\nthe facts of correlation a full recognition, he is by no means\nover-desirous to ascertain their cause. Correlation is another of\nthose laws which it pleases Darwin to consider as ultimate.\n\nNow, the supposition that the correlated part has arisen by\nevolution, involves the absurd conclusion that a centre of growth\nnormally pre\u00ebxists without a relative arrangement of parts. And on\nthe evolution hypothesis, we are forced to believe that an evolved\npart is correlated to another part not yet in existence; that all\nthe parts of the organism anticipate, as it were, the birth of the\nnew feature, and so adjust themselves as to become immediately\nsusceptible to its influence; and that, while the previous\nco\u00f6rdination of parts is destroyed, owing to the influence of the\nnew-born feature ramifying throughout the whole organization, the\norganism is capable of immediately effecting a re-co\u00f6rdination. To\nassume for any organism such powers as these, is virtual hylozoism.\nThe only escape for him who admits the evolution of variations,\nis to adopt the explanation furnished by the Duke of Argyll--that\ncorrelations are the _direct_ manifestations of design.\n\nThis interpretation of the teleologist precludes all further\nargument. We, of course, concur in design. But we do not deem\nourselves therefore bound to take for granted the validity of every\nargument adduced in proof thereof. We conceive that design can be\nproved by incontrovertible evidence, and that it can be shown to\nmanifest itself in conformity to laws not merely empirical.\n\nAs for the ultra-evolutionist, if he were to cease regarding\ncorrelation as an ultimate fact, and if he were to employ himself in\nplacing an interpretation upon it, he would perceive that the tie\nof correlation is strongly suggestive of reversion, and that its\nphenomena completely negative the hypothesis of evolution.\n\nOn the hypothesis of reversion, correlation is perfectly explicable.\nThe supposition of reversion necessarily involves the conclusion\nthat all the features of the species coexisted in each individual,\nsaving, of course, the characters peculiar to the opposite sex. The\nperfect organism, then, is a balance of all the parts. The parts\nare correlated to each other with respect to centres, and these\ncentres are correlated to each other with respect to the axis or\nthe aggregate. All the parts are mutually dependent. When a part\nis reduced, it tends to involve the reduction of its corresponding\npart. The centre of the parts is then weakened, and this weakening\nentails the weakening of the other centres, to which this center\nis correlated. The loss or suppression of even one part, then,\nmanifestly disturbs the physiological balance--destroys the\nco\u00f6rdination of the parts. Under nature, many parts have been lost\nor reduced, and these have entailed the loss or reduction of others.\nWhen, under domestication, characters develop, owing to selection\nand favorable conditions, they concur with the different centres\nof growth to effect a return to the balance, and, in consequence,\nthe correlated parts arise and assume their primordial relations\nto their correlatives and to the aggregate. When all the parts are\ndeveloped, by correlation and otherwise, there result an equilibrium\nand a consequent perfect co\u00f6rdination. Correlation is the inseparable\nconcomitant of co\u00f6rdination. Each implies the other. And this is\nthe reason, we apprehend, why correlation is barely noticed by\nMr. Spencer. He feared, we surmise, that a lengthy philosophical\ntreatment of the subject would suggest the conception that correlated\ngrowth necessarily implied previously imperfect co\u00f6rdination.\n\nIn order to facilitate the reader's conception of our meaning, it may\nbe well to adduce an analogy. Analogies between organic and inorganic\nnature, the advocates of evolution ever delight in. And as that of\nthe crystal has found especial favor in their sight, we will venture\nto use it. As we conceive that there are laws governing the organism,\nwhich are _sui generis_, we would request our readers to regard the\nanalogy only as an illustration of our views, and not in the light of\nan argument.\n\nIn crystallization, the initial force involved in the deposition of\nthe first molecule determines the form and shape of the crystal.\nThis molecule is correlated, as it were, to the aggregate to be\nformed. It controls the whole formative process, with a view to the\nshape eventually to be attained. Otherwise, how are we to account\nfor the due tempering and modification of the forces implied in\nthe deposition of each of the atoms of the accretion? From the\nfirst, there must of necessity be but one normal process. But this\ncorrelation between the first molecule and the aggregate is not the\ncorrelation which we wish particularly to illustrate. The crystal\nhaving been fully formed, a couple of edges are truncated. The\ncrystal is then placed in a solution similar to that in which it\nwas formed. Now, the absence of these edges implies an abnormal\ndistribution of the forces. This is manifest; for correlation,\ndirectly with the corresponding edges and indirectly with the\naggregate, leads to the reproduction of the lost parts--a fact\nmanifestly implying previously imperfect co\u00f6rdination, and a present\nequilibrium of all the parts, or due co\u00f6rdination. The parts\nreproduced assume their previous relations, and effect a return to\nthe balance impaired by their truncation. It is hence clear that\ncorrelation implies co\u00f6rdination, and that co\u00f6rdination implies\ncorrelation. Correlation, then, is a necessary corollary from the\nhypothesis of due co\u00f6rdination, or proportionate development. It will\nbe seen that, while it receives a clear, consistent, and rational\ninterpretation upon the theory of reversion, it carries with it\nimplications at variance with the hypothesis of evolution.\n\nAs our knowledge of crystallography is that of an amateur, these\nviews respecting crystallization may be open to modification; though\nwe are assured that they are not so in essentials.\n\nThe analogy of the crystal most happily illustrates our views of\ncorrelation. With equal felicity it illustrates the opposing views of\nthe evolutionist and the reversionist, respecting the main points in\nthe controversy.\n\nSuppose three crystals, similar in shape, to have been formed in a\nsolution. The truncation of six of the edges of each has, in some\nmanner or other, been effected. With these edges thus reduced,\nthe crystals are found by a person anxious to prove the theory of\nevolution. He places them in solutions similar to those in which\nthey were formed. The development of the lost edges then ensues.\nBut, instead of allowing them all to develop, only a single edge in\neach crystal is suffered to reproduce itself; and this edge is in\neach crystal a different one. This is done in order to render the\ncrystals as unlike as possible. Practically, however, this would\nbe not a little difficult to effect. Our friend, imbued with the\ninquiring spirit of the age, now seeks to ascertain the cause of\nthe growth of the edges. In his observation of the phenomena of\ncrystallization, he has noticed that the growth of an edge is often\ndue to reproduction. But this fact he now finds it convenient to\nforget. He at last affects to believe himself forced to conclude\nthat the growth of the edges is an ultimate fact; and, at the same\ntime, refers the phenomenon to evolution, an explanation which has\nthe strong recommendation of being a mere re-statement of the\nphenomenon to be explained. He next observes that, in each crystal, a\nnew angle develops in correspondence with the angle first developed.\nThis gives him two characters peculiar to each crystal. Recognizing\na new factor in the induced development of the last angle, he\npropounds the law of correlation, and affirms that it concurs with\nand subserves evolution. The three crystals, originally alike, are\nnow widely distinct. These varieties of crystals, exclaims our friend\nwith the proud and patronizing smile of conscious superiority,\npresent differences almost equally great with those displayed by\nspecies. Given, then, an indefinite number of hours and the requisite\nconditions, and all the species of crystals can be shown to evolve\none from another. You cannot assume a limit to the development of\nparts, otherwise than gratuitously. There cannot possibly be any such\nthing as the immutability of the species; for individuals vary, and\nthe species is composed of those individuals. This argument of our\nfriend cannot be invalidated, if we concede that the growth of the\nedges forming the peculiarities of the varieties is new growth, is\nevolution, and that it is not reproduction. But it is obvious that\nit is reproduction, or reversion back to the state which existed\nprevious to the truncation of the edges. It is equally obvious that\ncorrelation, or the growth of the last edge in correspondence with\nthat of the former, is merely a return to more perfect co\u00f6rdination.\nIt is also manifest to every physicist, that the absence from each\ncrystal of the four edges which constitute the peculiar characters\nof the other varieties implies an imperfect co\u00f6rdination of the\nremaining parts. In other words, their absence involves a departure\nfrom a state of chemical integrity. For there can be a normal\ndistribution of the forces of a crystal only when all the angles\nand parts are present, and proportionately developed. The views of\nthe evolutionist are therefore wholly erroneous. For the principles\nof physics preclude the possibility of the normal existence of more\nthan one variety. The existence of a plurality of varieties of a\nspecies implies disproportionate development of some of the parts.\nWith crystals, however, varieties may normally exist when their\ndifferences are merely those of size. But the only way in which the\nrelations of the parts can normally be changed is by a totally new\ndistribution of the forces; which would involve complete dissolution,\na modification of the force originally implied in the deposition of\nthe first molecule, and reintegration. Now, just as, in a crystal,\nthe loss of any part involves a departure from a state of chemical\nintegrity, so, in an organism, the reduction, suppression, or\ndisproportionate development of any part involves a departure from a\nstate of physiological integrity. In the perfect type alone are the\nrelations of the different parts perfect. The only way in which these\nrelations could be normally changed, is by complete dissolution and\nnew creation.\n\nNot a little prejudice exists against a perfect type. This prejudice\nis, in a measure, justifiable, owing to the vague and gratuitous\nmanner in which the perfect type has been assumed. But it cannot\nreasonably be extended to the perfect type which we here assume.\nThis, of ours, is an individual in which all the characters of the\nspecies are fully and proportionately developed. It is no Platonic\nidea; we assume it to prove it; and it is no more metaphysical than\nthe assumption for a crystal of a specific shape, which, owing to\nperturbations of the forces of the solution, it has been incapable\nof attaining.\n\nIn \"A Theory of Population,\" propounded in _The Westminster\nReview_ for April, 1852, Mr. Herbert Spencer defines life as \"the\nco\u00f6rdination of actions.\" This definition is, equally with his\nothers, exceedingly felicitous in every respect but one. It is not\na definition of life, as it purports to be, but merely a definition\nof the conditions of life. In a note on page 74 of his _Principles\nof Biology_, wherein he repels the imputation of being a disciple\nof Comte, he declares that the conditions _constitute_ existence.\nRecognizing the fact that the _onus probandi_ rests upon him, he\npresents phenomena in an aspect which at first gives not a little\nplausibility to his view. But these phenomena derive all their\nsignificance from the circumstance that Mr. Spencer's readers\nconcur in the conception of the evolution of variations. When this\nconception is demurred to, his arguments lose all their force. The\ntheory of reversion negatives the validity of his premises; and the\nhypothesis of the conditions constituting existence is then sustained\nby no proof greater than that of gratuitous assertion.\n\nBut, whatever may be the diversity of opinion respecting the truth\nof Mr. Spencer's definition of life, there is none, at least between\nhim and us, on the subject that \"the co\u00f6rdination of actions\" is a\ndefinition of the conditions of life. On this point both he and we\nare fully agreed. His belief that the definition is more than that\nwhich we concede, is a matter immaterial in connection with the\nargument immediately to be adduced. We wish now to observe which\ntheory consists more with the definition, the theory of evolution or\nthat of reversion.\n\nThe co\u00f6rdination of actions is the attribute which characterizes all\norganisms. All the parts of each organism must work in concert.\n\"If one of them does too much or too little--that is, if the\nco\u00f6rdination be imperfect--the life is disturbed; and if one of them\nceases to act--that is, if the co\u00f6rdination be destroyed--the life\nis destroyed.\" These remarks of Mr. Spencer more particularly refer\nto the _vegetative system_; but, as he shows, they are, with little\nmodification, applicable to the _animal system_. He says:\n\n     \"How completely the several attributes of animal life come within\n     the definition, we shall see on going through them _seriatim_.\n\n     \"Thus, _strength_ results from the co\u00f6rdination of actions; for\n     it is produced by the simultaneous contraction of many muscles,\n     and many fibres of each muscle; and the strength is great in\n     proportion to the number of these acting together; that is, in\n     proportion to the co\u00f6rdination. _Swiftness_, also, depending\n     partly on strength, but requiring, also, the rapid alternation\n     of movements, equally comes under the expression; seeing that,\n     other things equal, the more quickly sequent actions can be made\n     to follow each other, the more completely are they co\u00f6rdinated.\n     So, too, is it with _agility_; the power of a chamois to spring\n     from crag to crag implies accurate co\u00f6rdination in the movements\n     of different muscles, and a due subordination of them to the\n     perceptions.\"\n\nOn page 61 of his _Principles of Biology_, he further assures\nus \"that arrest of co\u00f6rdination is death, and that imperfect\nco\u00f6rdination is disease.\"\n\nA superficial view of Mr. Spencer's definition would involve the\ninference that, upon the evolution hypothesis, only one of two\nthings is possible. Either there is an ever-continuing imperfect\nco\u00f6rdination, or there is an always perfect co\u00f6rdination. As parts\nsubserve actions, the perfect co\u00f6rdination of the latter must be\ndependent upon the perfect co\u00f6rdination of the former. Now, evolution\nimplies a constant change. In fact, according to the hypothesis,\nconstant change is the only normal state. The variation of parts,\nthen, would entail their imperfect co\u00f6rdination, and, consequently,\nthe imperfect co\u00f6rdination of their actions; for the only conceivable\nway in which the imperfect co\u00f6rdination of actions is possible, is by\na change in the parts subserving those actions. As variations, then,\nare ever occurring, imperfect co\u00f6rdination must always exist.\n\nThe following is the alternative view. The evolutionist might assume\nan ability in each organism to effect, on the occurrence of each\nvariation, a re-co\u00f6rdination. This view manifestly admits only of\nperfect co\u00f6rdination. But the advocate of evolution may avoid these\nabsurd conclusions by affirming, as he has tacitly done, that, while\nthe organism is capable of co\u00f6rdinating any number of characters,\nimperfect co\u00f6rdination may ensue by a too sudden change in any\npart or parts. This is the issue which we desired to produce, the\ndecision of which will, we conceive, legitimately preclude further\nargument. The question is, Is the organism capable of co\u00f6rdinating\nany number of characters? or, are all the characters of the species\nalone susceptible of co\u00f6rdination? The reader will perceive that the\nlatter is a mere recurrence of our proposition that the proportionate\ndevelopment of all the parts is necessary to perfection, and that the\nabsence of any part is deleterious to the organism. If we prove this,\nwe shall have completely disproved the evolution hypothesis.\n\nThere is a fact adduced by Darwin which places the validity of our\ntheory beyond all doubt, and which is, at the same time, grossly\nat variance with the conception of evolution. The fact to which we\nallude is, that good results from crossing. Observing this result,\nDarwin propounds a general law of nature, that all organic beings\nare benefited by an occasional cross. This law he employs as a\nsomewhat important factor of evolution, and essays to harmonize it\nwith his theory. In this attempt he succeeds. But mere congruity with\na law is no proof of the validity of a theory, where that law is\nonly an empirical one. Of this every person conversant with science\nis aware. It is equally well known, however, that when a theory is\nshown to accord with a law; to furnish an explanation of it; and to\nresolve it into a higher law, thus changing it from an empirical\ninto a derivative law; proof conclusive and incontrovertible has\nbeen adduced. If the reader has not already mentally anticipated our\nargument, it remains for us to prove that the theory of reversion\nfulfils these requirements.\n\nOur theory manifestly implies that the more proportionate the\ndevelopment, the greater is the approach to perfection. It also\nimplies that the more characters of the species there are in each\nvariety, the nearer is the approximation to perfect co\u00f6rdination. It\nis apparent at a glance, then, that crossing furnishes a crucial test\nof the truth of our views. For most varieties are distinguished from\neach other by the possession of positive features. The presence of\nthe peculiar character of one variety, of course, implies its absence\nin the others. Each variety possesses a character or characters which\nthe others lack, and lacks what the others peculiarly possess. When,\nthen, two such varieties cross, good must of necessity accrue to\ntheir offspring. For, in the formation of the latter, each variety\nsupplies a deficiency of the other. Could a reason be more obvious?\nor could proof of a view be more conclusive? So conclusive is it, we\nconceive, that were any other result consequent on crossing, such a\ncircumstance would be at variance with our theory.\n\nOf the fact that good results from crossing, not a doubt can\nreasonably be entertained. Darwin, so far from questioning the\nfact, is its most strenuous advocate. But upon his conception,\nit is crossing _per se_ which produces the favorable effects. In\nother words, this is another of Darwin's ultimate laws. Being\npurely empirical, the general law of nature which he assumes, fails\nutterly to explain the cause of the variations in the quantity of\nthe effects. The crossing of pigeons, for instance, is attended\nby the greatest gain in constitutional vigor, while comparatively\nlittle good results from the crossing of the varieties of the horse,\nsheep, or cow. On our doctrine, the explanation is clear. The many\nwidely distinct varieties of the pigeon necessarily imply great\ndisproportionate development of each. They are, then, extremely\nsusceptible of improvement. The races of the horse, sheep, and cow,\non the other hand, approximate, as we have seen, to proportionate\ndevelopment. There is, therefore, much less room for improvement.\nStrikingly in harmony with this interpretation is the fact that, with\npigeons, the more highly bred the crossed varieties are, the greater\nis the gain from a cross. Equally congruous is the fact that the more\nhighly bred the breeds of the horse, cow, and sheep are, the less\nis the gain. The reason is, careful and select breeding produces\nincreased divergence of character with pigeons; but with horses,\nsheep, and cattle it induces increased convergence. The former become\nwidely distinct, while the latter converge in character. All the\ncharacters are developed in each variety of the latter; but in the\nformer different characters are developed in different varieties.\nWhile, then, co\u00f6rdination in the horse, sheep, and cow advances\ntoward perfection, co\u00f6rdination in the pigeon is rendered more\nimperfect by careful breeding. Each variety of the pigeon possesses\na character which, when joined with those of another variety, will\nentail a great advance toward due co\u00f6rdination. This concurrence\nis effected by crossing, and the result is, as one would be led to\nexpect upon our doctrine, great beneficial effects. With the horse,\nsheep, and cow the effects of a cross between varieties are less\nmarked, owing to less imperfect previous co\u00f6rdination.\n\nIn noting the advantage accruing to crossed offspring, we have\nparticularly referred to gain in constitutional vigor. We have\noccasion now to speak of gain in fertility. Seeing that hybrids--the\nproduct of a cross between species--are invariably sterile, it is\nclear that, if the conception that varieties are incipient species\nis a valid one, we are bound to expect that the more marked,\ndistinct, and widely divergent varieties are, the greater will\nbe their sterility. The mere circumstance that such an effect\nis not observable, goes far to invalidate the conception. What,\nthen, must the inference be when an effect diametrically opposite\nto that necessitated by the conception is shown to result--when\nincreased fertility is seen to follow crossing, and when this\nincreased fertility is observed to be directly proportionate to\ndivergence of character? Such results would, we apprehend, negative\ncompletely the hypothesis of evolution, and would conclusively\nconfirm our view, that the beneficial effects are owing to the\ndisproportionate development which a multiplicity of widely distinct\nvarieties necessarily implies. These results we have, and they are\nindisputable. For the fact that crossing induces increased fertility,\nand that this increased fertility is directly proportionate to\ndivergence of character, is so well known that it is scarcely\nnecessary to adduce proofs from Darwin in support of it. But that\nthe least shadow of a doubt may not remain, we will quote a few of\nDarwin's remarks on the subject.\n\nConstant reference to crossing may be found in any portion of his\nlate work. But a somewhat lengthy chapter is devoted exclusively to\nthis subject and to close interbreeding. In the conclusion of this\nchapter (p. 142, vol. ii.) he says:\n\n     \"In the early part of this chapter it was shown that the crossing\n     of distinct forms, whether closely or distantly allied, gives\n     increased size and constitutional vigor, and, except in the case\n     of crossed species, increased fertility to the offspring. The\n     evidence rests on the universal testimony of breeders.... Although\n     animals of pure blood will obviously be deteriorated by crossing,\n     as far as their characteristic qualities are concerned, there\n     seems to be no exception to the rule that advantages of the kind\n     just mentioned are thus gained even when there has not been any\n     previous close interbreeding. The rule applies to all animals,\n     _even to cattle and sheep_, which can long resist breeding\n     in-and-in between the nearest blood relations. It applies to\n     individuals of the same sub-variety, but of distinct families, to\n     varieties or races, to sub-species, as well as to quite distinct\n     species.\n\n     \"In this latter case, however, while size, vigor, precocity,\n     and hardiness are, with rare exceptions, gained, fertility,\n     in a greater or less degree, is lost; but the gain cannot be\n     exclusively attributed to the principle of compensation; for there\n     is no close parallelism between the increased size and vigor of\n     the offspring and their sterility. Moreover, it has been clearly\n     proved that mongrels which are perfectly fertile gain these same\n     advantages, as well as sterile hybrids.\"\n\nOn page 174, he reiterates these statements, which place the subject\nof increased fertility beyond all doubt.\n\nNow, it is clear that Darwin's being necessitated particularly to\nnote that the rule that advantage results from crossing obtains even\nin the cases of cattle and sheep, implies that comparatively little\ngood accrues to the offspring from the crossing of the breeds of\neither of those animals. This shows, as the varieties of the sheep\nand cow are convergent in character, that the less divergent the\nvarieties the less is the good attendant on crossing. The converse,\nthat the more divergent the varieties the greater the good, is\nplainly seen in the case of the pigeon, of which the varieties\nare manifestly and confessedly the most divergent. The following\nassertions are unequivocal proof of our view:\n\n     \"All the domestic races pair readily together, and, what is\n     equally important, their mongrel offspring are perfectly fertile.\n     To ascertain this fact, I made many experiments, which are given\n     in the note below; and recently Mr. Tegetmeier has made similar\n     experiments with the same result. The accurate Neumeister asserts\n     that when dovecots are crossed with pigeons of any other breed the\n     mongrels are extremely fertile and hardy. MM. Boitard and Corbie\n     affirm, after their great experience, _that with crossed pigeons,\n     the more distinct the breeds, the more productive are their\n     mongrel offspring_.\" (Page 236, vol i., American edition.)\n\nMere mention of crossing in connection with our theory would, we\nconceive, suffice. But if any doubts have been entertained of\nthe conclusiveness of the proofs furnished by the law, or of the\ncompetency of the theory of reversion to account for the good\nresulting from crossing, they are now surely dissipated by the\nevidence adduced from Darwin. The law of crossing which we propound\nis no ultimate law. It fulfils every requirement of a derivative law.\nThe good which flows from crossing varies in degree in different\nanimals, as is well known. This is quite explicable upon our theory;\nand the amount of good accruing to the offspring from the union of\ntwo given varieties, is even susceptible of prevision. Crossing _per\nse_ does not produce the increased good; it is attributable to the\nlack of full and proportionate development. Of course, for increased\ngood to result, each of the crossed animals must contribute to the\nformation of the offspring a part or parts which the other lacks.\nWe have, then, given what Darwin's law, being purely empirical, is\nutterly incompetent to do--a rational and consistent interpretation\nof the variations in the quantity of the effects. Logic requires no\ngreater proofs of a theory than those which we have here adduced.\n\nDarwin has informed us, in his late invaluable work, that crossing\ninduces the appearance of new characters. Great stress is laid upon\nthis fact by several writers, and some of them, among whom Pallas\nis conspicuous, have even gone so far as to ascribe variability\nexclusively to crossing. The theory of reversion furnishes a rational\nexplanation of the appearance of these characters. We do not allude\nmerely to the fact that their reversion is more probable than\ntheir evolution; for Darwin inclines to this opinion rather than\nto the contrary one. On page 264, vol. ii., after demurring to the\nconception that variability is solely induced by crossing, he says:\n\n     \"Nevertheless, it is probable that the crossing of two forms, when\n     one or both have long been domesticated or cultivated, adds to the\n     variability of the offspring, independently of the commingling of\n     the characters derived from the two parent forms; and this implies\n     that new characters actually arise. But we must not forget the\n     facts advanced in the thirteenth chapter, which clearly prove that\n     the act of crossing often leads to the reappearance or reversion\n     of long-lost characters; and in most cases, it would be impossible\n     to distinguish between the reappearance of ancient characters and\n     the first appearance of new characters. Practically, whether new\n     or old, they would be new to the breed in which they reappeared.\"\n\nBut there is another factor subserving evolution, to which we\nparticularly allude. This is correlation, which we have seen reason\nto conclude exists, not only between different growths, but also\nbetween different centres of growth. Now, when a cross ensues,\nthe offspring generally acquires from each parent a character or\ncharacters which the other lacks. The union of these characters\nstrengthens the centres to which they are joined, and also all the\ncentres of which the related parts are developed. By correlation, the\ncentre to which these centres are most closely allied becomes more\nfirmly established. The more firm establishment of this centre, then,\ninduces the development of its formerly connected parts. These parts\nare the characters consequent upon crossing.\n\nIf, as we maintain, the proofs furnished by crossing are conclusive,\nthen the phenomena of close interbreeding must be proofs amounting\nto demonstration. For the law of close interbreeding, which is the\nconverse of that of crossing, also holds good; is, if possible, more\nin accordance with the theory of reversion; is also susceptible\nof resolution into the law of proportionate development; and,\nbeing a derivative law upon our theory, fully accounts for all the\nvariations in the quantity of the effects. The different data,\nmoreover, esteemed so mutually inconsistent, of those who concur in\nand of those who demur to Darwin's law of close interbreeding, can\nbe shown, by the light furnished by the hypothesis of proportionate\ndevelopment, to be perfectly congruous. If we can prove, then, that\nour law of close interbreeding, founded upon the facts furnished by\nDarwin, is capable of all this, we shall have fulfilled our promise\nto place our theory beyond the reach of cavil.\n\nAs has been more than once asserted, our views necessitate the\nconclusion that a multiplicity of divergent varieties implies the\nloss in each of what constitute the peculiar characteristics of the\nothers. The circumstance that some few varieties are distinguished\nby the possession of negative features, but slightly modifies this\nconclusion. Now, it is clear to the comprehension of every one who is\nlikely to have followed us this far, that, as the loss of any part\nor character is deleterious, the pairing of the members of a variety\nwould tend to aggravate the evil consequent on the absence of the\npeculiar characters of the other varieties.\n\nQuite in harmony with this view is the following assertion, one of\na vast number of a similar kind made by Darwin: \"The consequences\nof close interbreeding, carried on for too long a time, are, as\nis generally believed, loss of size, constitutional vigor, and\nfertility, sometimes accompanied by a tendency to malformation.\"\n(Page 115, vol. ii.)\n\nNow, according to our theory, the evil effects of close interbreeding\nmust be proportionate to the divergence of character; or, rather,\nto the disproportionate development which divergence involves.\nDarwin admits that different species of animals are differently\naffected by the same degree of interbreeding. Among species of which\nthe varieties are divergent, the pigeon and fowl are pre\u00ebminently\nconspicuous. Here, then, we must look for the greatest evil effects\nfrom the interbreeding of the members of the varieties. The facts\nfail not to realize our anticipations. No writers have expressed\nso strong a conviction of the impossibility of long-continued\ninterbreeding as Sir J. Sebright and Andrew Knight, who have paid the\nmost attention to the breeding of the fowl and pigeon. Darwin gives\nus, as the result of his wide experience and extensive research, the\nfollowing opinion:\n\n     \"Evidence of the evil effects of close interbreeding can most\n     readily be acquired in the case of animals, such as fowls,\n     pigeons, etc., which propagate quickly, and, from being kept in\n     the same place, are exposed to the same conditions. Now, I have\n     inquired of very many breeders of these birds, and I have hitherto\n     not met with a single man who was not thoroughly convinced that an\n     occasional cross with another strain of the same sub-variety was\n     absolutely necessary. Most breeders of highly improved or fancy\n     birds value their own strain, and are most unwilling, at the risk,\n     in their opinion, of deterioration, to make a cross. The purchase\n     of a first-rate bird of another strain is expensive, and exchanges\n     are troublesome; yet all breeders, as far as I can hear, excepting\n     those who keep large stocks at different places for the sake of\n     crossing, are driven after a time to take this step.\" (P. 117,\n     vol. ii.)\n\nAnd again, on page 125, he says: \"With pigeons, breeders are\nunanimous, as previously stated, that it is absolutely indispensable,\nnotwithstanding the trouble and expense thus caused, occasionally to\ncross their much-prized birds with individuals of another strain, but\nbelonging, of course, to the same variety.\" He then dwells at some\nlength upon the great delicacy of constitution entailed by the close\ninterbreeding of nearly-related pigeons, and mentions a circumstance\nfor which the reason is at once obvious upon our theory. He says,\n\"It deserves notice that, when large size is one of the desired\ncharacters, as with pouters, the evil effects of close interbreeding\nare much sooner perceived than when small birds, such as short-faced\ntumblers, are desired.\"\n\n\"In the case of the _fowl_,\" says Darwin, \"a whole array of\nauthorities could be given against too close interbreeding.\" (P. 124,\nvol. ii.) Following this assertion is mention of the great sterility\nof bantams, induced by close interbreeding. He assures us that he has\nseen silver bantams almost as barren as hybrids. The Sebright bantam\nis destitute of hackles and sickle tail-feathers. This involves\ndisproportionate development; and that the evil is attributable to\nthis, Darwin virtually admits when he says, on page 101, that the\nloss of fertility is to be ascribed \"either to long-continued, close\ninterbreeding, or to an innate tendency to sterility correlated with\nthe absence of hackles and sickle tail-feathers.\"\n\nOf all the phenomena attendant upon close interbreeding, we know of\nnone which so strikingly confirms our view as the following curious\ncase. It is a most delicate exemplification of our doctrine. \"Mr.\nHewitt says that with these bantams the sterility of the male stands,\nwith rare exceptions, in the closest relation with their loss of\ncertain secondary male characters;\" he adds, \"I have noticed, as\na general rule, that even the slightest deviation from feminine\ncharacter in the tail of the male Sebright--say the elongation _by\nonly half an inch_ of the two principal tail-feathers--brings with\nit improved probability of increased fertility.\" (Pp. 124.) The\nfull significance of this singular fact the reader will at once\nappreciate. For the cause of the phenomenon is obvious. The increased\nprobability of fertility, consequent on the growth of the secondary\nsexual characters, is owing to the induced return to proportionate\ndevelopment.\n\nDarwin says, \"There is reason to believe, and this was the opinion\nof that most experienced observer, Sir J. Sebright, that the evil\neffects of close interbreeding may be checked by the related\nindividuals being separated during a few generations and exposed to\ndifferent conditions of life.\" (Pp. 115.) Now, different conditions\nare, as we have seen, favorable to the development of different\nparts. Exposure, then, to conditions other than those to which their\nbrothers are subjected, would lead to the growth or strengthening\nof certain parts in the separated animals. Interbreeding between\nmembers of the two lots of animals would, in consequence, be\nequivalent to crossing. The check to the evil effects is to be\nattributed to a slight dissimilarity of structure.\n\nThese quotations from Darwin place beyond doubt the fact that the\ngreatest evil effects flow from the close interbreeding of fowls\nand pigeons. It now remains for us to show that, in animals which\nare comparatively proportionately developed, the evil effects are\nvery small. It must be observed that it does not rest with us to\nshow a total absence of evil. For no animals are, in all respects,\nproportionately developed. Our very ability to discriminate between\ndifferent breeds necessarily implies the disproportionate development\nof all but one of them; that is, when their differences are not\nmerely those of size. With cows, want of proportion is often caused\nby blind conformity in certain breeds to certain standards. Thus,\nwhen a breed acquires a reputation, all its points are faithfully\npreserved, as if the preservation intact of the existing condition of\nall the features was a _sine qua non_ of the animal's good quality;\nand this occurs even when some of the features are shockingly out\nof proportion, or greatly reduced. If one breed were fully and\nproportionately developed, the others could be distinguished from it\nonly by negative features.\n\nOf the close interbreeding of the cow Darwin says:\n\n     \"With _cattle_ there can be no doubt that extremely close\n     interbreeding may be long carried on, advantageously with\n     respect to external characters and with no manifestly apparent\n     evil as far as constitution is concerned. The same remark is\n     applicable to sheep. Whether these animals have been rendered\n     less susceptible than others to this evil, in order to permit\n     them to live in herds--a habit which leads the old and vigorous\n     males to expel all intruders, and in consequence often to pair\n     with their own daughters--I will not pretend to decide. The case\n     of Bakewell's longhorns, which were closely interbred for a long\n     period, has often been quoted; yet Youatt says the breed 'had\n     acquired a delicacy of constitution inconsistent with common\n     management,' and 'the propagation of the species was not always\n     certain.' But the shorthorns offer the most striking case of\n     close interbreeding; for instance, the famous bull Favorite (who\n     was himself the offspring of a half-brother and sister from\n     Foljambe) was matched with his own daughter, granddaughter, and\n     great-granddaughter; so that the produce of this last union, or\n     the great-great-granddaughter, had fifteen sixteenths, or 93.75\n     per cent, of the blood of Favorite in her reins. This cow was\n     matched with the bull Wellington, having 62.5 per cent of Favorite\n     blood in his veins, and produced Clarissa; Clarissa was matched\n     with the bull Lancaster, having 68.75 of the same blood, and she\n     yielded valuable offspring. Nevertheless, Collings, who reared\n     these animals, and was a strong advocate for close interbreeding,\n     once crossed his stock with a Galloway, and the cows from this\n     cross realized the highest prices. Bates's herd was esteemed the\n     most celebrated in the world. For thirteen years he bred most\n     closely in-and-in; but during the next seventeen years, though\n     he had the most exalted notion of the value of his own stock, he\n     thrice infused fresh blood into his herd; it is said that he did\n     this, not to improve the form of his animals, but on account of\n     their lessened fertility. Mr. Bates's own view, as given by a\n     celebrated breeder, was, that 'to breed in-and-in from a bad stock\n     was ruin and devastation; yet that the practice may be safely\n     allowed within certain limits when the parents so related are\n     descended from first-rate animals.' We thus see that there has\n     been extremely close interbreeding with shorthorns; but Nathusius,\n     after the most careful study of their pedigrees, says that he\n     can find no instance of a breeder who has strictly followed this\n     practice during his whole life. From this study and his own\n     experience, he concludes that close interbreeding is necessary to\n     ennoble the stock; but that in effecting this the greatest care is\n     necessary on account of the tendency to infertility and weakness.\n     It may be added that another high authority asserts that many more\n     calves are born cripples from shorthorns than from any other and\n     less closely interbred races of cattle.\" (Pp. 117, 118, vol. ii.)\n\nThis last phenomenon is doubtless due to correlation between the legs\nand the small development of the horns.\n\nNow, these remarks of Mr. Darwin unequivocally show that extremely\nlong-continued close interbreeding is possible with cattle. They also\nacquaint us with the fact that, although this may long be carried on,\nevil at length begins to manifest itself. This is easily explained. A\nsmall want of proportion in the animals interbred entails evil, but\nevil too small in amount to be capable of manifesting itself at once.\nBut continued exacerbations, consequent on frequent pairing with\nrelated individuals possessing an evil identical in kind, so augments\nthe evil as eventually to involve its display.\n\nIf further proof of the possibility of the long-continued\ninterbreeding of cattle is needed, it may be found on page 44 of _The\nWestminster Review_ for July, 1863. This review is the stronghold of\nDarwinism. The writer of the article to which we refer says, that\n\"Dr. Child gives the pedigree of the celebrated bull Comet and of\nsome other animals, bred with a degree of closeness such as no one\nwho has not studied the subject would believe possible. In one of\nthese cases, the same animal appears as the sire in _four_ successive\ngenerations.\" So striking is the pedigree of Comet, that the writer\ncannot refrain from inserting it.\n\nThe sheep is another animal in which there is an approximation to\nproportionate development. Let us see, then, if our doctrine equally\nobtains in this case. Before going further, we may request the reader\nto call to mind Darwin's assurance that his remark, \"that extremely\nclose interbreeding may be long carried on with cattle,\" is equally\napplicable to sheep.\n\nOn page 119, vol. ii., he remarks that,\n\n     \"With _sheep_ there has often been long-continued close\n     interbreeding within the limits of the same flock; but whether\n     the nearest relations have been matched so frequently as in the\n     case of shorthorn cattle, I do not know. The Messrs. Brown, during\n     fifty years, have never infused fresh blood into their excellent\n     flock of Leicesters. Since 1810, Mr. Barford has acted on the same\n     principle with the Foscote flock. He asserts that half a century\n     of experience has convinced him that when two nearly-related\n     individuals are quite sound in constitution, in-and-in breeding\n     does not induce degeneracy; but he adds that he 'does not pride\n     himself on breeding from the nearest affinities.' In France, the\n     Naz flock has been bred for sixty years without the introduction\n     of a single strange ram.\"\n\nIn connection with this subject _The Westminster Review_ says that,\n\n     \"M. Beaudouin, in a memoir to be found in the _Comptes Rendus_\n     of August 5th, 1862, gives some very interesting particulars\n     of a flock of merino sheep bred in-and-in, for a period of two\n     and twenty years, without a single cross, and with perfectly\n     successful results, there being no sign of decreased fertility,\n     and the breed having in other respects improved.\"\n\nOf all animals, the horse is manifestly the most proportionately\ndeveloped. In him all the parts maintain, to a great extent, the\ndue proportions. Our doctrine, then, leads us to expect that, in\nthis case, little evil results from close interbreeding. We would be\ngreatly surprised that the horse was not the most striking instance\nof the possibility of long-continued in-and-in breeding, were we not\nconscious of the fact that a great portion of the evil eventually\nresulting from close interbreeding is attributable to augmentation\nof the diseases to which the horse is singularly susceptible. The\nfollowing is the only evidence we shall adduce in the case of the\nhorse; but it \"is clear and decisive\":\n\n     \"Mr. J. H. Walsh, well known, under the _nom de plume_ of\n     Stonehenge, as an authority upon sporting matters, says\n     distinctly, in his recent work, that nearly all our thorough-bred\n     horses are bred in-and-in.\" (_Vide West. Rev._ for July, 1863, p.\n     44.)\n\n     \"Writers upon sporting matters are pretty generally agreed that no\n     horse either bears fatigue so well or recovers from its effects\n     so soon as the thorough-bred, and it is a subject upon which such\n     writers are the best of all authorities. Thus, 'Nimrod' concludes\n     a comparison between the thorough-bred and the half-bred hunter in\n     the following words: 'As for his powers of endurance under equal\n     sufferings, they doubtless would exceed those of the 'cock-tail,'\n     and being by his nature what is termed a better doer in the\n     stable, he is sooner at his work again than the others. _Indeed,\n     there is scarcely a limit to the work of full-bred hunters_ of\n     good form and constitution and temper; and yet these, as we have\n     seen, are almost all close bred.\" (_Ibid._ p. 45.)\n\nThe mention of \"good form\" is a fact of significance; for the\ncurrent conception of symmetry is, in the case of the horse, a safer\ncriterion of proportionate development than in the case of any other\nanimal.\n\nIn all the discussions on close interbreeding, no case meets with\nsuch frequent mention as that of the pig. Those who endeavor to\ngainsay the conclusion that evil is attendant on in-and-in breeding,\nsignally fail to invalidate the fact that pigs die out altogether\nafter being bred in-and-in for several generations. Those persons are\nthe exceptions, however, who consider the fact as questionable. On\npage 121, vol. ii., Darwin says, \"With _pigs_ there is more unanimity\namong breeders on the evil effects of close interbreeding than,\nperhaps, with any other large animal.\" He then gives quite a number\nof facts, which we will not quote, as they are indisputable.\n\nClose interbreeding being attended, in pigs, by evil effects is,\nat first sight, at variance with our doctrine. For, not only does\nutility guide the selection of pigs, but they are, as Darwin has\ninformed us, the most striking instance of convergence of character.\nWe have seen the greatest evil effects of in-and-in breeding in\nthose species in which selection is guided by fancy, and of which\nthe varieties were the most divergent in character. A superficial\nconsideration, then, would lead one to expect that, where the\nconverse obtained--where utility was the motive in selection, and\nwhere the varieties were convergent in character--interbreeding would\nentail little or no evil effects. But the incongruity between the\nfacts and the doctrine is only apparent, not real. There is presence\nof evil effects, because, in this case, the motive of utility and\nconvergence of character also involve disproportionate development.\nDisproportionate development is the only never-failing criterion.\nIn our last article we showed that, while divergence of character\nis solely caused by disproportionate development, convergence of\ncharacter may be induced by either proportionate or disproportionate\ndevelopment. We further showed that the pig's convergence of\ncharacter is caused by disproportionate development, and that the pig\nhas many characters either wholly or partially suppressed. Its coat\nof bristles is greatly diminished, and its tusks are wholly reduced.\nOwing to a misguided policy, its legs are of the smallest possible\nsize, and, by correlation, the front of the head is remarkably short\nand concave. Being, then, thus disproportionately developed, the\npig, of all large animals, must be, upon our doctrine, the most\nsusceptible of evil from close interbreeding. Allow the legs to be\nof proportionate size, and a marked decrease in the evil entailed by\ninterbreeding will be observable. So impressed are we with the idea\nof the truth of our doctrine, that we will stake its validity upon\nthe result, confident that, in doing so, we venture nothing.\n\nThat the cause assigned for the lessened fertility and delicacy of\nconstitution of pigs is a true one, is placed beyond all doubt by the\nfact that, with those members of the species of which but little care\nis taken, there is comparatively very little evil entailed by close\ninterbreeding. The reason lies in the circumstance that, in these\nanimals, the legs are far more proportionately developed than in\nwell-bred pigs; and that there is absent the shortness and concavity\nof the front of the head. The more well-bred the animals, the greater\nare the injurious effects of in-and-in breeding. This fact needs not\nproof; it is too well known. Care in breeding pigs almost invariably\ninduces the small development of the legs and of the front of the\nhead. A case somewhat analogous is presented by the fowl and pigeon.\nWith them, the more careful the selection, the greater are the evil\neffects of interbreeding. With cattle, sheep, and horses, however,\ngood breeding is a condition _sine qua non_ of their exemption from\nthe evil generally consequent on close interbreeding. Why care\nshould be attended by different results in different species, is at\nfirst not clear. But this is the explanation. In fowls and pigeons,\ncare in the formation of varieties induces greater disproportionate\ndevelopment by augmenting the divergence of character. In cattle,\nsheep, and horses, on the contrary, care, by inducing greater\nconvergence, causes increased proportionate development. This\nconvergence, be it remembered, is attributable to a cause other than\nthat which creates the convergence of character of the breeds of\nwell-bred pigs.\n\nWe incline to believe that the extremely small amount of evil\nattendant on reduced size never manifests itself by close\ninterbreeding. That some evil, though inappreciably small, does\nresult from reduced size, may reasonably be inferred from the\nfact that, where animals disproportionately developed are crossed,\nincrease in size follows, and that, where those animals are closely\ninterbred, decrease in size results.\n\nWe are assured that there are cases in which crossing, instead of\nresulting in good, induces evil effects. Darwin says he has not met\nwith any well-established case, with animals, in which this occurs.\nNow, our theory contemplates such evil effects under the following\ncircumstances. The varieties crossed must each be distinguished\nfrom other varieties by a negative feature. In addition to this,\nthey must lack features in common. The evil resulting would then be\nattributable to the same cause which induces the evil consequent on\nclose interbreeding.\n\nIt is now clear that these phenomena of crossing and close\ninterbreeding tell a tale the direct converse and refutation of that\nwhich Darwin would have us believe. They are manifestly, grossly,\nabsolutely, and irreconcilably at variance with the doctrine of\nevolution. They show conclusively that no divergence of character is\nnormally possible; that all the characters of the species are alone\nsusceptible of perfect co\u00f6rdination; that the exclusive possession\nof any positive character by any variety is to the detriment of the\nother varieties; that the possession of any negative feature is\ndeleterious to the organism; and that there can normally exist but\none variety--the perfect type, that variety in which all the positive\nfeatures are fully and proportionately developed. These conclusions\ncannot be gainsaid; for they irresistibly force themselves upon one\nby observation of the phenomena of crossing and close interbreeding,\nfurnished by Darwin.\n\nWe have now propounded a counter-theory and a refutation of\nDarwinism. In doing so, we have introduced no new factors. We\nhave used only those with which Darwin has furnished us. There\nare, however, three factors recognized by Darwin which we have\neliminated. These are an innate tendency in organisms to vary,\nevolution, and the law of compensation of growth. Of these, the\nfirst is confessedly unscientific; the second, irrespective of the\nwell-founded doubt as to whether it obtains or not, must share in\nthe same discredit which is accorded to the first; and the third is\nviewed with distrust even by Darwin himself. The factors, however,\nwhich we have retained must be conceded to be immeasurably more\namenable to the canons of scientific research, upon the theory of\nreversion, than when they are adduced to subserve the hypothesis of\nevolution. In our treatment of them they have fulfilled the highest\nrequirements of logic. Take, for example, the four principal laws\ninvolved in the controversy--variation, correlation, crossing, and\nclose interbreeding. These we found ultimate or empirical laws, and\nleft them derivative laws. The law of variation we resolved into the\nlaw of reversion; and the laws of correlation, crossing, and close\ninterbreeding we resolved into the law of proportionate development.\nNow, it is not possible for a theory to be capable of all this,\nand yet to be false. If the laws upon which we based our theory\nwere merely empirical, a doubt of its validity might reasonably be\nentertained. But, as the case stands, it cannot.\n\nBut--may exclaim a tyro who affects a love for science, and whose\nconception of biology is limited to protoplasm and cells--assuming\nthat the hypothesis of reversion is vastly more conformable to\nthe phenomena of variation than the hypothesis of evolution, yet\nyour theory fails to supply the greatest requirement of biologic\nscience. It fails to satisfy our yearnings after a knowledge of the\ndevelopment of the species. Darwin starts with cells, the lowest\ncongregations of organic matter. Because he does this his theory is,\nat least philosophically, the more scientific.\n\nBut, even in this respect, our theory is more philosophical than\nthat of Darwin. Darwin assumes three or four cells, and intrusts\nspontaneity or chance with the development of the species. We assume,\nnot \"a myriad supernatural impulses\" going to the formation of each\nspecies, not the creation of each species in its maturity, but one\ncell alone for each species, (or, perhaps, one cell for each sex of\neach species.) For evidence of the fact that the assumption of a\nmultiplicity of cells is more philosophical than the assumption of\nonly three or four, we appeal to an article in the _North American\nReview_ for October, 1868, entitled \"Philosophical Biology,\" of which\nthe writer is a professed Darwinian, and to G. H. Lewes's articles\nin the _Fortnightly Review_. Given, then, these cells, we intrust\nthe development of the species, not to spontaneity or chance, but\nto the operation of laws similar to those obtaining in the crystal.\nThe forces implied in the creation, formation, or existence of each\ncell determine, as in the case of the crystal, the whole form\nand structure of the species. The process of development is that\npredetermined, from which no departure is normally possible. Time,\nhowever, is an unimportant element. This kind of evolution of the\nspecies we concede. That which we deny is the evolution of the\nspecies one from another.\n\nIn conclusion, we cannot refrain from stating that our views are\nquite consistent with a high admiration of the great ingenuity\nand vast research displayed by Mr. Darwin. His desire to be frank\nand candid none can gainsay. For the ability of Mr. Spencer, who\nis somewhat less candid, but immeasurably more so than the petty\nretailers of his conceptions, we have the deepest respect. His\nexquisitely constructed mind we ever delight to study. Both Mr.\nDarwin and Mr. Spencer have rendered great services to the cause of\nscience. And we must in candor admit that the British \"infidels\"\ngenerally present their theories in a form which admits of their\neventual confirmation, or their eventual refutation. As we are\nconfident that their refutation will follow whenever they are really\nat variance with religion, we anticipate with pleasure many a warm\nbut amicable controversy within the next half-century.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[151] In the definition of a species, propounded in the last article,\nthere occurred two mistakes. \"Character\" should have been characters;\nand the semicolon immediately following should have been absent.\n\n\n\n\nBRITISH PREMIERS IN RELATION TO BRITISH CATHOLICS.\n\n\nThe English parliament having lately occupied itself in discussing\na measure of the utmost importance to the Catholics of the United\nKingdom, and to Irish Catholics in particular--the abolition of the\nEstablished Church supremacy, the time seems very opportune for\nreviewing the conduct of British premiers for the last century and a\nhalf in reference to Catholics. The subject, we think, cannot fail\nto interest our readers, whether they be natives of this soil of\nfreedom, or whether they have emigrated from an isle where freedom\nwas, during long ages, unknown, and have sought on this side of the\nAtlantic that liberty, prosperity, and peace from which in Ireland\nthey were cruelly debarred.\n\nThough the revolution of 1688 filled the breasts of Catholics with\ndismay, and the ruin of their cause seemed complete, when the arms of\nWilliam of Orange prevailed at the Boyne and at Limerick, yet their\nsituation was not so forlorn nor were their prospects so hopeless as\nmight have been expected. Many circumstances alleviated their misery;\nand, stormy as was the landscape spread before their eyes, glimpses\nwere ever and anon afforded them of that tranquil and sunny horizon\ninto which, after so many toils and conflicts, wounds and tears,\nthey now seem to be entering. Every premier since the revolution\ndown to the present time has done something, directly or indirectly,\nconducive to their interests, and calculated to raise them to equal\nprivileges with the rest of their fellow-countrymen, if not to\nrestore them to their long lost ascendency.\n\nWilliam III. was decidedly averse to persecution, and whether from\ncoldness or kindness of disposition, he could never be induced by\nany of his counsellors to trample on the liberty of one portion of\nhis subjects in order merely to please another portion. There was,\nindeed, one act of his reign,[152] of which we shall speak more\nparticularly when we arrive at Lord North's ministry, that pressed\nvery heavily on English and Irish Catholics; but of this act, which\nwas never carried fully into execution, the nation became weary in\neighty years, and William's consent to it was given very unwillingly.\nThe known moderation of his own views was probably one reason why\nthe pope (Alexander VIII.) did not disdain to give him his moral\nsupport in the league against France, and to be secretly, though not\nopenly, one of the alliance formed against ambition and encroachments\nwhich the states of Europe in general felt to be intolerable. When\nhis approval of the Declaration of Indulgence was sought by James\nII., in 1687, he had answered that he and the princess must protest\nagainst it, as exceeding the king's lawful prerogative, and as being\ndangerous to the Protestant ascendency, because it admitted Catholics\nto offices of trust; but he added that \"they were not persecutors.\nThey should with pleasure see Roman Catholics as well as Protestant\ndissenters relieved, in a proper manner, from all penal statutes.\nThey should with pleasure see Protestant dissenters admitted in a\nproper manner to civil office. But at that point their highnesses\nmust stop.\"[153] Such being William's sentiments, it is much to be\nregretted that he did not firmly resist the persecutive act which\ndisgraces his reign, and which, far from mitigating the penal\nstatutes in force against Catholics, made them more severe, and stood\nin direct contrast to his well-known and often expressed convictions.\n\n[154]But not only was King William himself favorable to Catholic\nliberties, nearly one half of the Lords, the Commons, and the people\nin general, were Jacobites, or inclined to Jacobitism. Many of the\ngreat measures which decided the course of the English government in\na Protestant and anti-Stuart direction were passed by extremely small\nmajorities, and not a few of those who held offices of the highest\ntrust in William's government, who commanded his armies and fleets,\nand sat by him at the council-board, were privately negotiating\nwith King James and receiving the nightly visits of messengers\nfrom St. Germain. Such were Russell, Godolphin, and Marlborough;\nand when men so high in the state were thus striving to serve two\nmasters, those Catholics who became aware of their intrigues could\nnot but cherish bright hopes that the day of their own redemption\nwas drawing nigh. During the reign of Queen Anne these hopes rose\nyet higher. She had a brother who claimed the throne of England, and\nshe desired that he might be her successor. There were few at the\ntime who knew the inmost thoughts of her heart; but it was evident\nto all that she leaned to the Jacobites; and when statesmen like\nOxford and Bolingbroke, and a bishop like Atterbury, stood high\nin her favor, it was manifest to Catholics that her royal mind\nturned wistfully toward the Catholic dynasty. The rigorous measures\nwhich had been passed against Catholics in her predecessor's reign\nremained, for the most part, a dead letter during hers. Anne herself\nwas no bigot; and if the country had not been kept in constant alarm\nby a threatened Stuart rising, the Catholic population would have\nenjoyed great tranquillity and considerable freedom. In 1714, we\nfind Lord Bolingbroke writing that the Catholics enjoy as much quiet\nas any others of the queen's subjects.[155] But this assertion, it\nmust be admitted, loses part of its credit when we remember that the\noppressive measures enacted at various times under William and Mary\nwere followed by several fresh refinements of cruelty in the reign of\nAnne.[156]\n\nWhen the peaceful accession of the Elector of Hanover to the throne\nof England darkened the prospects of the Jacobites, and suggested to\nthem the adoption of desperate steps as the only remedy for their\ndisappointment, the government was sorely tempted to subject all\nCatholics to rigorous laws, and to render existing statutes still\nmore severe. To this temptation, however, happily, it did not yield\nexcept in one or two instances. The mind of Sir Robert Walpole was\nneither persecutive nor narrow. He had, shortly before Queen Anne's\ndemise, opposed the odious Schism Act, by which every tutor and\nschoolmaster in Great Britain was compelled to receive the sacrament\nin the Established Church, obtain a license from the Protestant\nbishop, and pledge himself in writing to conform to the state\nreligion.[157] In speaking, as he did, against this measure, Walpole\nwas battling for the religious liberty of Catholics as well as of\nother dissenters from the Anglican communion, and was doing all that\nlay in his power to promote education among them.\n\nHis associate in and out of office, General, afterward Earl,\nStanhope, who also became premier in his turn, was a man of most\nhonorable feelings and enlarged views. During his tenure of power\nhe not merely endeavored to repeal the Schism Bill, the Test Act,\nand the Bill against Occasional Conformity, but he had designs\nof a higher order. Though Catholics had favored the Scottish\ninsurrection in 1715, though Protestant antipathy to them was at\nits height, though the popes and the Catholic courts of Europe in\ngeneral supported the designs of the Stuarts, though \"Papists\" were\nproscribed by common consent, and even the genius and _very_ moderate\nCatholicism of Pope could scarce save him from opprobrium on account\nof his religion, Lord Stanhope, to his immortal honor, undertook the\ncause of the persecuted remnant, and formed the design of repealing,\nor at least greatly mitigating, the penal laws in force against them.\nA paper which he wrote on the subject was placed in the hands of\nleading English Catholics. The Duke of Norfolk and Lord Waldegrave\nwere disposed to accept the conditions, provided they obtained the\nsanction of the pope.[158] But a variety of causes prevented the\nscheme from being carried into effect; and premature death carried\noff the only man who would, at that period, have had the least chance\nof success in a matter so difficult, unpopular, and benevolent. Lord\nStanhope's offer of indulgence to Catholics, on condition only of\ntheir swearing allegiance to the reigning family, was an admirable\nprecedent, and his descendant, the historian of England from the\nPeace of Utrecht to 1783, calls it, very properly, the earliest germ\nof Roman Catholic emancipation.\n\nThe Earl of Sunderland also, who was premier in 1718, concurred\nwith Stanhope in his schemes for religious liberty, though he was\nnot equally sanguine in his hopes. He believed that any attempt to\nget rid of the Test Act--in other words, to admit dissenters and\nCatholics to places under government--would be ruinous to all their\nliberal designs. He therefore prevailed on Stanhope to abate some of\nhis demands, and a bill for the relief of non-conformists was carried\nby the ministry through both houses, after several important clauses\nhad been struck out. Sir Robert Walpole unfortunately opposed the\nbill which, on a former occasion, he had supported in principle.\nThough a great man, a sound statesman, a true patriot, he had his\nlittlenesses. He did not rise above his age. He was one thing in\noffice, and another out of office. He had a passion for governing,\nand was not over-scrupulous in the means he took for attaining power.\nExpediency was often his law, and principle was set aside. Hence,\nwhen Sunderland and Stanhope were dead, and he once more took the\nhelm of the ship of state, he laid a heavy tax on the estates of\nCatholics, on the ground of their having cost the nation so much by\nfomenting the rebellion of 1715.[159] The disaffection they then\nmanifested was the cause also why, in 1716, they were forbidden,\nunder pain of punishment, to enlist in the king's service.\n\nBut these enactments were of a temporary nature, called forth by a\nspecial circumstance, and not of sufficient moment to disprove the\nassertion that, under the prime ministers of George I., the political\nand social condition of English Catholics was rendered more hopeful.\nYet in saying this we do not forget that the statute-book remained\nunpurged,[160] and exhibited even some additional defilement. But it\nis not always by law-books that we can judge of a nation's condition.\nIts acts are often better than its laws, and it mends its ways long\nbefore it improves its statutes. It was so for a long period with\nGreat Britain as regards her dealings with Catholics, and if it\nhad been otherwise, scarcely a remnant of the chosen people would\nhave remained to bear witness to the ancient faith. Sir Robert\nWalpole inclined in his heart to lenient measures, and would have\ndone more to promote religious liberty if he had not fallen among a\nstiff-necked generation, to whom retaliation and oppression came as\nthings of course. His efforts to relieve the Quakers from prosecution\nand imprisonment for refusing to pay tithes and church rates, and to\nsubstitute for these a levy by distress on their goods, sufficiently\nproves his aversion to the oppressive policy which Gibson, the Bishop\nof London, and many of his lawn-sleeved brethren, wished to pursue.\n\nLittle alteration took place in the condition of Catholics during\nthe premierships of Carteret, Pelham, and Newcastle. They were few\nin number, except in the southern and western provinces of Ireland,\nwhere they comprised the great body of the laboring classes.\nIn England, on the contrary, they had scarcely any hold on the\nlower orders, but numbered among their people many peers, country\ngentlemen, and other educated persons. The alarm they occasioned was\nincredible, considering the poverty of their chapels, and the scanty\nnumbers by whom these were frequented. The most wicked and absurd\ndoctrines were ascribed to them, nor was any falsehood respecting\nthem too glaring to obtain credit with the prejudiced multitude. The\nrising of 1745 brought them more than ever into disrepute, and their\nenemies saw with fierce joy their bones whitening on Temple Bar and\nTower Hill. The butchery of the Duke of Cumberland was accounted\nlenient when exercised against Catholics; and if the government had\ndrenched the scaffolds with more blood of Highland chiefs, it would\nprobably have been applauded by a crowd of Protestant zealots. But\nPelham and his brother, the Duke of Newcastle, were neither cruel\nnor fanatical; and the effort made by the former to ameliorate the\ncondition of the Jews, though frustrated by the intolerance of the\ntimes, proved that his leanings, at least, were in favor of religious\nand political equality. Deserted as he was in this matter by his\ntimid and shuffling brother, hooted at and cried down as an enemy\nof Christianity because he was averse to persecuting the forlorn\nand helpless Jews, we may judge how hopeless would have been any\nattempt to plead the rights of Catholics, and how prudence itself\ndemanded that the redress of their wrongs should be postponed to a\nmore convenient season. The Whigs of George II.'s reign did what they\ncould in their favor, and it was little indeed, by paving the way for\nfuture concessions.\n\nWhile Chatham, with his fiery genius, was holding the reins of\ngovernment, in concert successively with the dukes of Devonshire,\nof Newcastle, and of Grafton; while Bute enjoyed the favor of\nhis sovereign, and incurred in an equal degree the odium of the\npeople; while Grenville goaded the American colonists into revolt,\nand Rockingham vainly endeavored to heal the wounds which his\npredecessor had inflicted on them; little was thought, and still less\nwas said, in parliament about the emancipation of Catholics. Yet many\nof the events which occurred, many of the political gladiators who\nacquired for themselves such renown in the arena of public life, were\npreparing the way for this happy consummation in the fulness of time.\nEvery blow that was struck for freedom was a gain to the Catholic\ncause; every check that was put on the arbitrary power of the king or\nthe parliament was in effect a loosening of their bonds. When Chatham\ndeclaimed against the use of general warrants, and Wilkes waged war\nsingle-handed with the crown, the cabinet, and the commons; when\nBurke and Rockingham, no less than Chatham, denounced the injustice\nof the Stamp Act, and the fratricidal cruelty of the war by which it\nwas in principle to be enforced, the arguments by which they clove\ndown menaces, boasts, and blatant sophistry availed more or less\nagainst every thing that could be pleaded in support of the bondage\nand degradation to which Catholics were subjected. Edmund Burke was\nthe burning and shining light of the Rockingham administration. It\nwas scarcely possible for the premier to overrate his importance as\nan ally. He had the most philosophical mind of any statesman of his\nage; and the fact of his being chattered against as a wild Irishman\nand a concealed papist by the Duke of Newcastle, proved that the\ndespised and the detested Catholics of Ireland were likely to find\na friend in him. He was more than a great man; he represented a\nprinciple. He never shifted his ground, though he sometimes changed\nhis front. He always pleaded for order, and \"a manly, moral,\nregulated liberty.\" In the outset of his political career, the\ntide of human thought was setting in new directions. America was\ndeclaring her independence; the _Wealth of Nations_ was laying the\nfoundation of political economy; Wesley and Whitefield were stirring\nup a dormant spirit of sincere though misguided religion in mines,\nfactories, fields, and wolds; Hargreaves's spinning-jenny was well\nat work; Arkwright's patent had been issued some years; Crompton's\nmule was seen coming into play; Brindley's canal from the Trent to\nthe Mersey was being cut; and Watt was preparing his third model of\nthe steam-engine. Powerful solvents of old systems were applied, and\nactive germs of new ones sprang up on every side. It was a time,\ntherefore, when thoughtful men were accessible to new ideas, when\nthey would listen to arguments so new, so strange, so extravagant,\n(for such they had once thought them,) as those which Burke advanced\nin favor of religious toleration, and of the persecuted Irish. Year\nafter year his convictions gathered strength, till at last \"the\ngod within him\" burst forth, and he denounced the penal code of\nProtestant England as \"A system full of coherence and consistency;\nwell digested and well composed in all its parts, a machine of wise\nand elaborate contrivance, and as well fitted for the oppression,\nimpoverishment, and degradation of a people, and the debasement in\nthem of human nature itself, as ever proceeded from the perverted\ningenuity of man.\"[161] As the secretary, the friend, the adviser\nand colleague of Lord Rockingham, Edmund Burke had some influence in\nabating the rigor of enactments against \"papists;\" and though the\nRev. James Talbot, brother of the Earl of Shrewsbury, was tried for\nhis life at the Old Bailey for saying mass, so late as the year\n1769, yet the spirit of persecution sensibly declined after the fifth\nyear of George III.'s reign. It was rarely, and at long intervals,\nthat it ventured to display itself in the English parliament; and\nin 1774, the first decided step toward toleration was taken by that\nprejudiced body. The Catholics of Canada were allowed by law to enjoy\nfree exercise of their religion, subject to the king's supremacy.[162]\n\nOnly four years passed before this concession was followed by another\nof far greater importance and extent.\n\nIt was under the ministry of Lord North, and with his concurrence,\nthat Sir George Savile, in 1788, introduced a bill to repeal the\natrocious enactments extorted from William of Orange by a relentless\nparliament. The bigots of his day had often repeated the false\nreports of Jacobites, who affirmed that William was in secret a\nfavorer of their religion; but now that eighty years had rolled by,\nthe representatives of the nation in parliament, though not the\npeople themselves, were sensible of the injustice their forefathers\nhad wrought, and were willing to make reparation for it. It was\nalready a marvellous change that had come over the minds of the\nthinking part of the nation; and it is pleasing to reflect that Sir\nGeorge Savile's healing measure encountered little opposition. The\npenal statutes which his bill repealed had not, generally speaking,\nbeen put into execution, but in some instances they had; and Sir\nGeorge declared himself cognizant of cases in which Catholics were\nnot merely living in terror, but were obliged to bribe informers not\nto betray them, in consequence of the powers which the law conferred.\nThurlow, the attorney-general, supported the bill, and so did\nDundas, the lord-advocate of Scotland. The only whisper of opposition\ncame from a Whig bishop of Peterborough, named Hinchcliffe. By this\nrepeal the priests were secured from persecution, schoolmasters were\npermitted to teach, Catholics were enabled to purchase and to inherit\nestates, and many other happy exemptions from pain and penalty were\ngranted to them.[163] Horace Walpole, in one of his letters,[164]\ncalled the repeal \"the restoration of popery,\" and \"expected soon to\nsee Capuchins trampling about, and Jesuits in high places.\"\n\nIt is needless to recount the excesses which followed this measure.\nThe Lord George Gordon riots are too well known even here to require\nmore than an allusion to be made to them. Gibbon, the historian,\nwas an eye-witness of the scene, and he says, in memorable words,\nthat \"the month of June, 1780, will ever be marked by a dark and\ndiabolical fanaticism, which I supposed to be extinct, but which\nactually subsists in Great Britain _perhaps beyond any other country\nin Europe_.\" Impelled by these frantic disturbances, the parliament\ncondescended to explain Sir George Savile's bill to the people, and\nto show that, though intended to relieve \"papists,\" it was not meant\nto encourage \"popery.\"\n\nThe coalition ministry, under the Duke of Portland, did not last long\nenough for Fox, its most distinguished and philanthropic member, to\npropose measures for the relief of Catholics. But his great rival,\nPitt, during his long tenure of office, had means of befriending\nthem which he did not altogether neglect. The Toleration Act[165]\nreceived the royal assent in 1791, and many of its provisions did\ncredit to William Pitt's wisdom and humanity. It removed penalties\nstill attached by law to the celebration of Catholic worship, and\nrelieved tutors, schoolmasters, barristers, and peers from some\ndegrading restrictions. Pitt would willingly have gone further, much\nfurther. He would gladly have fulfilled the promises made to some\nof the leaders of the Irish people, and would have cemented the\nunion of England and Ireland by admitting Catholics to a share of\npolitical power and by providing a state endowment of the Catholic\npriesthood. He even resigned his post as premier in 1801 because he\nfound it impossible to obtain the consent of the purblind, bigoted\nold king to the measures he had planned for the peace of Ireland. It\nwould have been better for his fame if he had persevered in his good\nintentions. That he did not do so, is a stain on his memory which\nposterity, however lenient, cannot wash out. His honor was involved\nin completing the union with Ireland by Catholic emancipation. This\nhe not only failed to do, but, out of regard to his sovereign, he\npromised in writing that he would never again moot the question, and\nthat he would oppose its being agitated to the day of his death.\nThis was carrying loyalty too far. It prevailed against justice.\nIt cancelled personal honor. An engagement is sacred; and if Pitt\nhad observed his, he would have stood higher in the esteem of\nthinking men, without driving George III. into lunacy or to Hanover.\nConsidering all the circumstances, we cannot feel surprised at his\nsetting it aside; but we regret that he did not hold to it firmly.\nFaith in political leaders would then have been more easy, and\npublic virtue less a sham. When the strength of Pitt superseded\nthe weakness of Addington, and the great statesman found himself\nagain prime minister, his tongue was tied in reference to Catholic\nclaims. Nay, even his rival, Fox, when he came once more into\noffice, refrained from advocating emancipation out of deference to\nthe king's weakness and tendency to madness. Indeed, the Grenville\nministry, called usually \"All the Talents,\" broke up at last on the\nquestion of removing Catholic disabilities, as that of Pitt had done\nin the year 1801. A puny and pitiable concession had been made to\nIrish Catholic soldiers in 1793. They had been allowed by law to\nrise in the army to the rank of colonel, in case of their serving\n_in Ireland_. Lord Sidmouth and Chancellor Erskine were opposed to\nCatholic emancipation, yet even they were willing in their boundless\ngenerosity to extend this privilege to officers serving in England.\nThe king was alarmed at the proposal, and wrote to Lord Spenser,\ndeclaring that it should never gain his consent. It would remove a\nrestriction on Roman Catholics, and it was only part of a system to\nwhich he was unchangeably averse. But when two days had passed, his\nmajesty thought better of it. He would not thwart his ministers for\nsuch a trifle. He yielded the point, and then discovered than he had\nbeen deceived by the liberal members of the cabinet, and that they\nactually intended to put Catholics and dissenters on exactly the same\nfooting as members of the Anglican church in the army, and to exact\nfrom them merely an oath of allegiance. The bill for the purpose\nhad, in fact, been submitted to him, but, being blind, he had let it\npass without proper scrutiny. His ministers always affirmed that,\nif he had been misled, it was not through their fault or intention.\nThe afflicted old man was greatly disturbed by what he heard on the\nsubject from Lord Sidmouth, and he became still more indignant when\nthe bill was fathered on him, introduced into parliament by Lord\nHowick, (afterward Lord Grey,) opposed stoutly by Mr. Perceval, and\nread for the first time. He resolved in secret to rid himself of\nministers whom he regarded as dangerous and false. He informed them\nthat the bill in question would never be signed by him, that it must\nbe withdrawn, and that he should be satisfied with nothing less than\nan explicit assurance and promise that no such measures in future\nshould be proposed. This \"All the Talents\" refused to give, and the\nking, on hearing that their answer was final, said, \"Then I must look\nabout me.\"[166]\n\nThough the Duke of Portland became prime minister in 1807 with the\nexpress intention of defending the sovereign against importunity\nin favor of Catholics, it is worthy of remark that the College of\nMaynooth was endowed during his premiership; and this is only one\nillustration of the remarkable fact which we are endeavoring to\nexhibit--that the Catholic cause in England has progressed in England\nunder every government since the revolution of 1688, in spite of\npenal statutes, obstacles, and resistance of king, lords, commons or\npeople.\n\nMr. Perceval, who succeeded the Duke of Portland in 1809, is\ndescribed by Madden as \"a stupid lawyer, without character or\npractice, noted only for his bigotry.\"\n\nThere was little done for Catholics in his time; but about two months\nafter he had been shot in the lobby of the House of Commons, Lord\nWellesley moved that the Catholic claims should be considered.\n\nThe cabinet of Lord Liverpool was formed on the basis of neutrality\nas regards the Catholic question; in other words, its members were\nallowed to advocate or oppose emancipation, just as they thought\nfit. Canning and Castlereagh were its friends; Lord Eldon was its\nbitterest opponent. The premier himself invariably spoke against\nit, but he was not virulent. His hostility to it arose from the\nconviction that Protestant ascendency was the real and proper basis\nof the British constitution, as revised under William III. To\nalter that basis was, in his eyes, to effect a revolution; and he\npredicted, in 1812 and in 1825, that if emancipation were granted,\neither the Protestant church in Ireland would be disestablished or\nthe Roman Catholic Church there would be established by law. Events\nhave proved, happily, that he was not altogether wrong.\n\nThe period of the Liverpool administration was, of course, a dreary\none for Catholics. The efforts of Grattan, Wellesley, Sir Henry\nParnell, Plunkett, and Canning to obtain for them some redress, ended\nfor the most part in cruel disappointment. Yet in 1817 the government\nintroduced a bill, which passed both houses, opening to them the\narmy and navy, and thus generously bestowed on them the privilege of\nshedding their blood in the service of their oppressors. By annual\nacts of indemnity, also, Catholic officers were relieved from the\npenalty of not taking the oaths of supremacy.\n\nIn 1824, Lord Liverpool had so far relaxed his opposition to Catholic\nclaims that he spoke in favor of Lord Lansdowne's two bills for\ngiving the elective franchise to English as it had been given to\nIrish Catholics, and for throwing open to them magistracies and other\ninferior offices, besides allowing the Duke of Norfolk to execute his\nhereditary office of earl marshal. The bills were rejected, but the\nduke's claim was allowed. In 1826, just two years before his death,\nLord Liverpool submitted to the king an important paper, in which he\nreminded his majesty that the cabinet he had framed in 1812 regarded\nemancipation from the first as an open question, and declared that\nhe could not now be a party to any other arrangement. He humbly\nsuggested that the king should advert to the actual state of the\nopinions of public men in the two houses of parliament, particularly\nof those in the House of Commons, upon the Roman Catholic question,\nand that he should seriously consider whether it would not be at\nleast as impracticable as in 1812 to form an administration upon the\nexclusively Protestant principle. Thus Lord Liverpool himself, and\nhis neutral or divided cabinet, prepared the way for emancipation in\nthe year after his death.\n\nCanning succeeded Lord Liverpool in 1827. He had long advocated\nthe redress of Catholic wrongs. It was not his fault that Ireland\nwas duped by the union. It had been his desire and intention that\nemancipation should seal and complete that measure. He could scarcely\nventure to speak of it, however, except in vague terms; for the\nsmallest allusion to it on his part would have been sure to call down\nupon him the vengeance of the treasury benches. Yet he did allude\nto it in January and April, 1799, and thirteen years after, when,\nspeaking of the Catholic claims, he declared that \"expectations had\nbeen held out, the disappointment of which involved the moral guilt\nof an absolute breach of faith.\"\n\n\"Does history,\" asks Goldwin Smith, in discussing the wrongs of\nIreland--\"does history afford a parallel to that agony of seven\ncenturies which has not yet reached its close? But England is the\nfavorite of Heaven; and when _she_ commits oppression, it will not\nrecoil on the oppressor!\"\n\nIf Canning's life had been spared, there is no doubt that he would\nhave signalized his tenure of office by the completion, in some\nmeasure at least, of the designs of the Catholic Association. This\nbody, formed by O'Connell in 1823, had infused new life and hope into\nIrish patriotism. Disappointed and betrayed as the people of Ireland\nhad been by one statesman after another, they could not but expect\nsomething from Canning's hands, especially when they saw him rise\nin April, 1822, and move for leave to bring in a bill which should\nrelieve Roman Catholic peers from the disabilities imposed on them by\nthe Act 30 of Charles II., with regard to the right of sitting and\nvoting in the House of Peers. His brilliant and beautiful speech was\ncrowned with a certain success. His motion was carried by a majority\nof five; but Peel opposed the measure, and the Lords rejected it by\na majority of forty-two. Their policy in such matters has always\nbeen one of obstruction. They declined to let noblemen so noble and\nso pacific, and of families so ancient, as the Dukes of Norfolk, the\nEarl of Shrewsbury, Lord Petre, and Lord Stourton, sit beside them in\ntheir chambers as peers of the realm.\n\nAfter this failure, Canning's zeal in the Catholic cause is said to\nhave declined; but he doubtless felt his impotence, and waited only\ntill a more favorable opportunity of serving the Catholic interests\nshould arrive.\n\n    TO BE CONTINUED.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[152] 11 and 12 William III., c. 4. Madden's _Penal Statutes against\nRoman Catholics_, pages 229, 232, 233.\n\n[153] Macaulay, Hist. of England, chap. vii., ann. 1687.\n\n[154] Ibid. chap. xvii.\n\n[155] To Mr. Prior, Jan. 30th, 1714.\n\n[156] 10 Anne c. 2. 12 St. 2, c. 14.\n\n[157] Earl Stanhope, Hist. of England, vol. 1. p. 81.\n\n[158] Craggs to Stanhope, June 30th, 1719.\n\n[159] 9 George I., c. 18.\n\n[160] Madden's _Penal Statutes_, p. 238.\n\n[161] Letter to Sir Hercules Langrishe, 1792.\n\n[162] 14 George III. c. 35, \u00a7 5.\n\n[163] 18 George III., c. 60.\n\n[164] To Rev. Mr. Cole, May 21, 1778.\n\n[165] 31 George III., c. 32.\n\n[166] English Premiers. No. xii. _Month_, 1867.\n\n\n\n\nCHESS.\n\n\nI.\n\nIt is rather difficult for the spectator at a game of chess (who\nis not himself a player) to comprehend the pleasure of it, and to\nbelieve that those two grave, silent individuals are not only seeking\nbut actually finding amusement and recreation.\n\nYet no game is more beautiful in its appointments; beautiful in\nthe mathematical precision of its moves; beautiful in its colored,\ncarved, and varied pieces; intellectually beautiful in its very\nquietude--in the power with which it represses every manifestation of\nhope or disappointment, in its wordless intensity of thought.\n\nOther games come in some degree within the scope of the most humble\ncapacity; but chess, royal chess, loftier in its requirements,\ndemands the most noble. It has attractions all-absorbing and\nfascinating as well as profitable unto wisdom; but they stand fully\nrevealed to him only who can widely plan and steadily execute; whose\ncircumspection is never beguiled and whose caution never sleepeth;\nwho is elated not overmuch by success nor despondent under disasters;\nwho keepeth his own counsel and can baffle an opponent's penetration;\nwhose well-schooled eye gives no clue, by a glance, to his intended\nvictim, and whose well-trained finger never hovers in irresolution.\nBehold the requirements of chess!\n\nIt has been justly called in olden English _The Royalle Game_; for\nnot only is a king its hero, but it has afforded amusement to kings\nand warriors through many a past age, and in countries widely distant\nfrom each other.\n\nThe origin of the game of chess is still an unsettled question.\nLike some of the oriental monarchs, it might write itself \"brother\nto the sun and moon\"--so ancient is its pedigree. Some writers have\nproved, to their own satisfaction at least, that it was chess which\nenlivened the tedium of the Greeks encamped about the walls of Troy,\nand that its inventor was Palamedes, son of Nauplius, King of Euboea.\nWho can doubt the inventive genius of Palamedes after all the tales\ntold of him?--tales we learn once and then forget. I repeat one.\nWhen the Greek heroes were gathering for the mighty Trojan conflict,\nPalamedes, himself a warrior, was sent to Ithaca, to summon Achilles\nand Odysseus to join them. The latter, desirous of evading the call,\nfeigned himself insane, and Palamedes, to test his truthfulness,\nseized his infant child and laid it before him in a furrow which he\nwas ploughing. Odysseus paused, raised the child, and removed it,\nthus giving evidence of his sanity. Who after this can doubt the\ninventive powers of Palamedes or his historian, and who can say that\neither might not have invented chess?\n\nIn a manuscript of the fourteenth century in the Harleian collection,\nin the British Museum, is a drawing in which two warriors are\nrepresented, evidently Greeks, with a chess-board between them,\nengaged in play. The author of the MS. traces the game back to\nOdysseus, and concludes that one of these chiefs is intended for him.\n\nIn the great Egyptian collection of the British Museum, specimens\nare preserved of a kind of chess-men taken from a tomb of one of the\nPharaohs, which prove that they had a game similar if not identical\nwith our chess; and some hieroglyphics on the ruins of Luxor, Thebes,\nand Palmyra have been interpreted as indicating such a game.\n\nCaxton, who printed a _Boke of Chesse_ in 1474, quoting from some\nother writers, gives a wonderful story, showing that it was devised\nin the reign of Evil-Merodach, King of Babylon, by a philosopher\n\"whyche was named in Caldee Exerses, and in Greke Philemetor.\" The\nGreek cognomen of the philosopher leads somewhat to the belief of\nsuch a possibility.\n\nChaucer, without any proof, gives us in rhyme another candidate for\nthe glory--Athalus. He describes, in a sort of dream, a visionary\nopponent, Fortune--\n\n    \"At chesse with me she gan to pleye\n    With hir fals draughtes dyverse,\n    She staale on me and toke my ferz, (now queen.)\n    And when I saugh my ferz awaye,\n    Alas, I kouthe no longer pleye.\n    With a powne errante, allas I\n    Ful craftier to pleye she was\n    Than Athalus, who made the game\n    First of the chesse, so was hys name.\"[167]\n\nA repetition of half the assertions and conjectures on this subject\nwould fill volumes; indeed, volumes have been written on it; for no\nother thing of pure amusement has ever enlisted in its cause so many\nlearned commentators of all tongues and nations, who unite, however,\nupon two points--its remote antiquity and its mighty renown.\n\nThe most reliable account of the origin of the game is, without\ndoubt, that given by Sir William Jones. His high official rank for\nmany years under the English government in India, and his familiarity\nwith oriental languages, gave him opportunities for oriental research\nbeyond almost any other writer. He asserts, as the result of his\ninquiries, that it was invented by the Hindoos, and from them\n(according to a universal Persian tradition) it was brought, in the\nsixth century, to Persia. Its next step was to Arabia, and from\nthence it was carried by the Saracenic conquest of Spain to western\nEurope. He found no mention of it in the classic writings of the\nBrahmins, although (he continues) they say confidently that Sanscrit\nbooks on chess exist.\n\nWho the gifted individual was from whose brain emanated such an\ningenious complication of mathematics and strategy, disguised under\nthe mask of amusement, we shall perhaps never know. He might well\nhave exclaimed with Horace,\n\n    \"Exegi monumentum \u00e6re perennius.\"\n\nBut alas! the name of the builder is lost; or perhaps a future\nLayard, in exhuming the splendors of some ancient city, may find a\nrecord on some crumbling stone of the inventor of chess.\n\nTo an indefinite number of persons the honor is at present ascribed,\nevidently in mere conjecture, as in the following extract translated\nfrom a Chinese annal on chess; but it has an interest, in showing the\nantiquity of the game and the high esteem in which it was held:\n\n     \"Three hundred and seventy-nine years after the time of Confucius,\n     or 1965 years ago,\" says the annal, \"Hung Cochu, King of Kiangnan,\n     sent an expedition into the Shense country, under command of a\n     mandarin named Hansing, to conquer it. After one campaign, the\n     soldiers went into winter quarters, and they grew homesick and\n     wanted to return. Then Hansing invented the game of chess. They\n     were well pleased. In the spring they took the field again, and\n     soon added the rich country of Shense to the kingdom of Kiangnan.\"\n\nIt is more likely that Hansing only taught the soldiers what he had\nhimself learned elsewhere; but Shense is still the name of a northern\nprovince of China, and Chinese soldiers still play chess.\n\nFor the name of the game also, as well as its origin, we rely most on\nSir W. Jones, who traced it to _Chaturlinga_, signifying in eastern\ndialect certain parts of an army; and in his time the Malays still\ncalled it _Chatur_.\n\nThe whole vocabulary of chess--the only sound which breaks the\nmonotonous silence of the game, is the little word _check_; and it is\na singular fact, remarked by Mr. F. W. Cronhelm, that, however varied\nthe names of the pieces in different languages, yet the Italians,\nFrench, English, Danes, Icelanders, Germans, Poles, and Russians all\ngive the king warning in the same word--_check!_ Somebody traces\nit to _sheik_, the title of a high ruler in the Arabian dynasty,\nand supposes that they so named the principal piece, which we call\n_king_; hence when the adversary placed him in danger, he called\nout to him \"sheik!\" or, as we say, \"check!\" This is certainly\nplausible; for _mat_ in Arabic, as also in some dialects of Persia\nand India, signifies _to kill_, _to slay_; hence comes \"_sheik-mat_,\"\nking-slain, or the modern \"_check-mate_.\"\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[167] Bell's _Chaucer_, vol. vi.\n\n\nII.\n\nIt may be supposed, then, following the dates of Sir W. Jones,\nthat the game of chess made its entrance into Arabia in her most\nglorious era; and it is easy to believe that a recreation so purely\nintellectual, so entirely reliant on skill and removed from chance,\nand which called into action all the higher powers of mind, would\nspeedily find favor with the refined and cultivated Arabians in the\ngolden days of her history. It is easy to picture Haroun-al-Raschid,\nwho \"never built a mosque without attaching to it a school,\" and who\ntaught his subjects that \"the most noble homage of a creature is\nto cultivate the faculties bestowed on him by his Creator\"--it is\neasy to imagine him seeking relaxation from the cares of government\nin a game of chess; and not he alone--but that, from the universal\ndiffusion of learning and refinement among the people, under him and\nhis immediate successors, it would meet universal acceptance, and be\nengrafted, as it were, on their nationality. And thus we find it was;\nand so entirely adopted that it was the most cherished pleasure which\nthey carried with them to (what was to them) the _far-off_ land of\nSpain.\n\nTo the Arabians then, the west of Europe, at least, if not the whole\nof it, is indebted for chess; and it is pleasant to believe that its\npresent perfections may have been wrought out by some modifications\nof it, in those famous old universities and schools of learning which\nhistory tells us were scattered over every land where the Arabians\nheld sway, but more especially over Arabia proper.\n\nChess, looked upon in this connection, wears a mantle of romance;\nthere is a spell upon it of that departed glory! It is redolent of\norange-groves, and jasmines, and thickets of roses; of sculptured\nhalls, and gorgeous tapestry, and marble pavements; of learned\nmen and beautiful women. All around it in that land breathed an\nimpassioned poetry and an enchaining eloquence; the language of\npassion, and inspired thoughts, and bold imagery, of whose power to\nsway mankind our rule-bound brains can form no conception.\n\nIt speaks to us of the days when Bagdad was the gathering-place,\nunder Al-Mamoun, (Mahomet-aben-Amer,) of the wise men of all nations;\nwhen her universities and schools of science were the boast of\nher rulers; when long trains of camels were daily seen entering\nher gates laden with precious manuscripts for her libraries; when\nmedicine, law, mathematics, astronomy, counted among her citizens\ntheir most renowned professors, and when all these sciences were\nmade accessible to the people by colleges and academies in every\ntown. Nor were Bassora, Kaffa, Samarcand, and numerous other cities\nmuch less famous; Alexandria possessed more than twenty schools for\nphilosophy alone; and Fez and Larace held in their immense libraries\nworks of rare value nowhere else to be found. In every department\nof science and art they seem to have labored with success. They had\ndictionaries, geographical, critical, and biographical; the universal\nhistory of the world by Aboul-Feda, and the great historical\ndictionary of Prince Abdel Malek. Al-Assacher wrote commentaries\non the first inventors of the arts; and Al-Gazel, a learned work\non Arabian antiquities. Nor were their researches confined to\nthe schools; after forty years of travel in studying mineralogy,\nAbou-ryan-al-Byrony produced his treatise on precious stones--rich\nin facts and observations. With equal zeal, at a later period,\nAben-al-Beither traversed the mountains and plains of Europe, the\nsands of Africa, and the most remote countries of Asia, to gather\nevery thing rare and worthy of record in the vegetable and animal\nworld. Chemistry they applied to the arts of life; and Al-Farabi, who\nspoke seventy languages, spent his life in making a compend of all\nknown sciences in one immense encyclop\u00e6dia.\n\nThey had invented gunpowder although the honor is often falsely given\nto a German chemist--and they were familiar with the compass, long\nbefore either was named in Europe; and our sciences of calculation\nare indebted to them for numerals. The mass of their poetry and\nfiction exceeds that of all other nations put together. One, at\nleast, we all know; for who cannot recall many--yes, how _many_\nhappy hours of boyhood, beguiled with the gorgeous impossibilities of\n_Arabian Nights_?\n\nAmidst all these royal students, these accomplished scholars, the\nchess-board had its place; it was the pleasure, the recreation--the\nfield whereon wit encountered wit in sharp and pleasant tilt. And\nwhile from all that land the light of science has departed; while\nthe glories of the past are, with the mass of its people, not even\na tradition, travellers tell us that, after the day's journeying is\ndone, the dusky Arab \"spreads out on the ground a checkered cloth,\nand plays on it a game similar to our chess.\"\n\n\nIII.\n\nAlthough Spain, and the adjacent nations through her, received\nchess from Arabia, the game not only existed but was wide-spread\nin the north of Europe at a period so early (and under a slight\nmodification) that we are led to believe they derived it from some\nother source. Indeed, nothing would seem more likely than that some\nof the many tribes who were constantly migrating thither from Asia\nwould carry it with them. Major C. F. de Jaenish, a Russian writer,\nis of opinion that Russia received it direct from the east through\nher ancient conquerors, the Moguls; and in proof of this, he notes\ntwo pieces changed in the chess of southern Europe, but retained\nin their original form in Russia. These are, first, the commander\nof the army, or _biser_, called in Persia _ferz_; and second, the\n_elephant_, called in Russia, _Slone_. But it doubtless existed in\nRussia long before the Moguls held sway, which was not until the\nthirteenth century; and long before that time there are records of\nit as an amusement among the Northmen of the neighboring kingdoms.\nBesides this, in the ninth century the descendants of Ruric the\nNorman, who then ruled Russia, had extended their conquests to the\nBlack Sea, and, in the language of the old historian, \"greatly\ninfested its waters;\" one of them had even married the sister of the\nGreek emperor. It is, therefore, more than probable that through some\nof these channels chess was introduced into the northern part of\nEurope at a very early date.\n\nIt may have been carried thither by those maritime marauders, called\nthe sea-kings, even before it was heard of in Spain. The first\nmovement of the Arabians against Spain is generally fixed in the\nyear seven hundred and ten; when Taric-ben-Zeyed, with some galleys\ndisguised as merchantmen, cruised along the coasts of Andalusia and\nLusitania, to see what temptation the Christian land offered to\nthe followers of the prophet. That his survey was satisfactory, we\nknow by what followed. But long before this, the Northmen in their\nships had made themselves famous and feared. An Icelandic chronicle\ntells us \"they were on every sea, and more numerous on water than\non land.\" In the eighth and ninth centuries, they were to be found\nnot only repeatedly ravaging England, Scotland, and Ireland, but\nsailing up the Somme, the Seine, the Loire, the Garonne, and the\nRhone; they had pillaged and burnt Paris, Amiens, Orleans, Bordeaux,\nToulouse, Nantes, and Tours; and laid waste Provence and Dauphiny.\nMore than once they landed in Spain; and they had coasted the\nMediterranean, to the terror of Greece and Italy. These expeditions\nwere always predatory; and they may not only have acquired in their\nMediterranean voyages some hints of the game of chess, but chess-men\nand chess-boards may have made a trifle in the booty with which they\nalways returned laden to their northern homes.\n\nMons. Mallet, the antiquarian, in seeking to account for the great\nquantity of foreign coin found about that time in the northern\nkingdoms, thinks it less probable that it was the honest gains of\ncommerce than \"relics of the plunder collected by these ravagers.\"\nIn like manner, perhaps, they appropriated chess. In whatever way\nobtained, it must have been to them particularly attractive; for what\nwas it but that for which they lived--battle and victory? Nothing\ncould have been better adapted, in the long nights of their northern\nwinters, both to divert them from that restlessness which seems to\nhave possessed the whole of their existence not spent in the tumults\nof war and the chase, or in preparations for them--and also as a\npastime at their frequent and magnificent feasts; occasions upon\nwhich they infused into it their own fierce and vindictive spirit,\nfor we know that their chess games ended very frequently not in the\ncheck-mate of the king, but in breaking each other's heads with the\nchess-board. Some such instances on record are tragic and revolting.\nSimilar manners extended along the middle ages. An old writer thus\nexplains the feud which existed between Charlemagne and Ogier the\nDane:\n\n     \"At one of the festivals at the court of Charlemagne, the\n     emperor's son Charles, and Bauduin, son of Ogier, went to play\n     together. They took a chess-board and sat down to play for\n     pastime. They arranged their chess-men on the board. The emperor's\n     son first moved his pawn, and young Bauduin moved his _aufin_,\n     (bishop.) Then Charles thought to press him very hard, and he\n     moves his knight upon the other _aufin_. The one moves forward and\n     the other backward so long that Bauduin said _mate_ to him in the\n     corner. Then the young prince was furious at his defeat, and not\n     only assailed the son of Ogier with the most insulting language,\n     but seized the chess-board and dealt him such a violent blow on\n     his forehead that he split his head and scattered his brains on\n     the floor!\"\n\nKing John of England, in his youth, at the court of his father Henry\nII., played sometimes with Fulk Fitz Warine, a lad like himself, and\nas often it ended in a quarrel. A curious old history of the Fitz\nWarines gives the following story:\n\n     \"Young Fulk was bred at the court of King Henry, and was much\n     beloved by all his sons except John; for he used often to quarrel\n     with John. It happened that John and Fulk were sitting all alone\n     in a chamber playing at chess. John took the chess-board and hit\n     Fulk a great blow. Fulk felt hurt, raised his foot and struck\n     John so that his head went against the wall, and he grew weak and\n     faint. Fulk was in consternation, but he was glad they were alone.\n     Then he rubbed John's ears, and he recovered and went to the king\n     his father to complain.\"\n\nHis majesty bestowed upon him little sympathy, for he punished him\nfor being quarrelsome. Considering that John began the affray, this\nmight pass for justice; but he did not forget the matter when he came\nto the throne. Fulk was the famous outlaw.\n\nIn many old manuscripts incidental mention is made of chess as a\nfavorite amusement for heroes. When Regner Lodbrog, the warrior-poet,\nwas killed, the messenger who carried the news to his sons found two\nof them--Sigued (snake-eye) and Hurtish (the bold)--playing chess;\nthe third one, Biorn, was mending his lance. Regner Lodbrog died\nabout the close of the eighth century.\n\nSnorro Sturleson relates that, in 1028, Canute, King of Denmark,\nrode to Roskild to visit Earl Ulft, the husband of his sister. The\nking was very dull and scarcely spoke, and to enliven him, Earl Ulft\nproposed a game of chess. So they sat down to it, and played until\nUlft took a knight; this the king would not allow.\n\n\"Are you a coward?\" he exclaimed.\n\n\"You did not call me coward when I shielded you in battle,\" replied\nthe earl; but for this reminder he lost his head.\n\nAn early metrical romance tells us that when Witikind, king of the\npagan Saxons, received information that Charlemagne was marching on\nhis dominions, the messenger found him in his palace at Tremoigne,\nplaying chess with Escorsaus de Lutise; and his queen, Sebile, who\nalso understood the game, was looking on. Witikind was so indignant\nat the news that he \"seized the chess-board and smashed it to pieces,\nand his face grew as red as a cherry.\"\n\nThere is a droll story told of a kindred spirit of more modern date.\nA choleric Scottish nobleman, a former Earl of Stair, frequently\nplayed with a friend of his, Colonel Stewart. Not contented with\nbestowing very expressive invectives on the colonel's occasional\nsuperior play, he sometimes, when goaded by a _check-mate_, flung at\nhis head any object possible within reach; so at last the colonel,\nfor prudence' sake, when about to make his last move, always rose\nhastily and retreating behind some door, called out, \"_Check-mate_,\nmy lord!\"\n\nWhile the general manners of an age are gathered from its grave\nhistorians, we can learn them more in detail from its romances. In\nall the early romances left to us, wherever chess is mentioned--and\nit is constantly introduced as a pastime of knights, princes, and\ncourtly dames--it is almost always an occasion or implement of some\nfierce dispute.\n\nIn the romance of _Quatre fils d'Aymon_, the agents of Regnault go\nto arrest Richard, Duke of Normandy, and find him playing chess. The\nresult is thus quaintly told in an old English version, printed by\nCopeland.\n\n     \"When Duke Richarde saw these sergeauntes hed him by the arm, he\n     helde in his hande a lady of ivery, wherewith he would have given\n     _mate_ to Younet. Then he withdrew his arm, and gave to one of the\n     sergeauntes such a stroke with it into the forehead that he made\n     him tumble over and over at his feete; and then he tooke a rooke\n     and smote another withal upon his head, so that he all to-brost it\n     to the brayne.\"\n\nIn the romance of _Parise la Duchesse_, her young son, brought up\nat the court of Hungary, becomes an object of jealousy to some of\nthe nobles, and four of them conspire to murder him. In order to\naccomplish their object with safety to themselves, they invite him\nto play chess with them in a retired cellar. \"Hughes,\" said they,\n\"will you come with us to play at chess? For you can teach us chess\nand dice; for certainly you know the games better than we do.\" Hughes\nseemed suspicious of their advances, and it was not until they\npromised him to avoid all disputes that he accepted their invitation.\nHe began to play with the son of Duke Granier; but while he in\nkindness was about showing them in what manner to move, they drew\ntheir knives upon him, and outrageously insulted him. He killed the\nforemost of them with a blow of his fist, and seizing the chess-board\nfor a weapon, for he was unarmed, he \"_brained_ the other three with\nit.\"\n\nIn Spain and Italy, about the same time, the game is mentioned under\nmore gentle guise. An interesting letter is preserved, written by\nDamianus, Cardinal Bishop of Ostia, to Pope Alexander II., who was\nelected pope in 1061. Damianus tells the pope how he was travelling\nwith a bishop of Florence, when,\n\n     \"having arrived at a hotel, I withdrew into the cell of a priest,\n     while he remained with a crowd of travellers in the spacious\n     house. In the morning I was informed by my servant that the bishop\n     had been playing chess; which information like an arrow pierced my\n     heart. At a convenient hour I sent for him, and said, in a tone\n     of reproof, 'The hand is stretched out, the rod is ready for\n     the offender.' 'Let the fault be proved,' said he, 'and penance\n     shall not be refused.' 'Was it well,' I rejoined, 'was it worthy\n     of the character you bear, to spend the evening in the vanity\n     of chess-play, and defile the hands and tongue which ought to\n     be the mediator between man and the Deity? Are you aware that,\n     by the canonical law, bishops who are dice-players are ordered\n     to be deposed?' He, however, making himself a shield of defence\n     from the difference of names, said that dice was one thing, and\n     chess another; consequently, that the canon only forbade dice, but\n     tacitly allowed chess. To which I replied, 'Chess is not named in\n     the text, but the general term of dice comprehends both games;\n     wherefore, since dice is forbidden and chess is not named, it\n     follows without doubt that both are equally condemned.'\"\n\nIt is safe to conclude from this that the cardinal himself was not\nfamiliar with the game.\n\nFemales are represented on many illuminated manuscripts, as well as\nin early romances, as playing chess together or with knights. In\none called _Blonde of Oxford_, Jean, a young French nobleman, comes\nto England and enters the household service of the Earl of Oxford.\nIt was a part of Jean's duty to attend on the Lady Blonde, daughter\nof the earl, and serve her at table; after dinner, he goes hawking\nand hunting with them, and also teaches the ladies French. \"Then he\nentertains the Ladye Blonde, and teaches her chess, and he often says\n_check_ and _mate_ to her.\"\n\nSimilar scenes are in _Ipomydon_, as in the following quoted by\nStrutt:\n\n    \"When theye had dyned, as you saye,\n    Lords and ladys yede to playe,\n    Some to tables, some to chesse,\n    And other gamys more or less.\"\n\n     \"The writers immediately after the conquest,\" says a distinguished\n     antiquarian, \"speak of the Saxons as playing at chess; and pretend\n     that they learned the game of the Danes. Gaimar, who gives an\n     interesting story of the deceit practised on King Edgar (A.D. 973)\n     by Ethelwold, when sent to visit the beautiful Elfthrida, daughter\n     of Orgar of Devonshire, describes the young lady and her noble\n     father passing the day at chess.\" (_Wright._)\n\nSuch examples might be multiplied to tediousness; but one more notice\nof it among the Northmen is worth giving, because it is found in one\nof the grandest of modern epics, by the Swedish poet, Tegner, founded\non events in the life of one of their most renowned heroes--_The\nLegend of Frithiof_.\n\nThe fortunes of the valiant Frithiof, who was the son of a thane,\nseem to have been ruled by his love for the fair Ingeborn, daughter\nof a king, and the scorn with which her two brothers spurned his\nproposal for her hand. A day of retaliation, however, soon came.\nHelg\u00e9 and Halfdan, the brothers, were threatened by a neighboring\nfoe, and sent to Frithiof--certainly with a sublime forgetfulness\nof what had passed--to ask his aid. When the messenger arrived, he\nwas playing chess with his friend, Bjorn, the Bear. Frithiof refuses\nvery decidedly. His heart still pines for Ingeborn; and, like a true\nViking, he betakes himself for consolation to the sea, which he vows\nshall be \"his home in life and his grave in death.\" The chess-board\nbeside which Frithiof doubtless forgot his griefs for a brief space\nis described as magnificent--\n\n    \"Beside a chess-board's checkered frame\n    Frithiof and Bjorn pursued their game;\n    Silver was each alternate plane,\n    And each alternate plane of gold.\"[168]\n\nPerhaps some reader will be glad to learn that, after a few years,\n\"he is weary of sea-fights and of hewing men in twain,\" and returns\nhome to marry Ingeborn.\n\nSuch was one of the early chess-players.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[168] Strong's Translation.\n\n\nIV.\n\nIt is remarkable in the history of chess how very trifling the\nvariations which have ever been made in it. The lapse of time, which\nhas swept away cities and their inhabitants, which has so blotted\nfrom human speech the words of those who once held converse around\nit that their inscriptions on stone are unintelligible, has left it\nalmost unaltered.\n\nComing close to that domestic life of nations of which chess made\none pleasure, what has not changed? Modes of dress, construction of\ndwellings, fashions of entertainment--all have had their mutations.\nYet the game, as far back as the earliest accounts of it, has been\nalmost literally such as we see it. One feature has always marked\nit, _chess_; there has always been a sovereign to be attacked\nand defended, and inferior pieces to accomplish these ends in\ncombination, yet by different means. The board of sixty-four squares\nhas also almost invariably been maintained.\n\nTwo pieces were modified when it passed from Arabia to Spain, or\nrather, from the Saracen to the Christian. In Arabia and Persia,\nthere was no female on the board; what we call \"queen\" was, with\nthem, \"vizier or counsellor,\" and called _pherz_, _ferz_, or _fers_.\nThis was retained in Europe until about the eleventh century, when it\nwas supplanted by our queen. But wherefore a queen? We shall see.\n\nSeveral events combined to make this period the age of poetry and\nof a peculiar deference to womankind. It will be remembered that in\nthe eleventh century, 1095, was preached the first Crusade, a thing\nof romance and poetry itself. However different the motives which\nactuated that crowd of nobles and warriors who joined in creating the\nmighty army whose advance-guard was led by the monk Peter, to all\nappearance each one was a hero. Country and kingdom, home and love,\nhappiness of wife or maiden, was the sacrifice professedly offered at\nthe shrine of a holy enthusiasm enkindled by faith. Every earthly\ninterest, every tie of affection, all consideration of self, was to\nbe accounted nothing, compared with the sacred obligations involved\nin the expedition.\n\nThe means of expressing all these delicate sentiments and deep\nemotions, and furthermore of expressing them in poetry, was happily\nopened to them at this era in the language of the troubadours--the\n_Langue d'Oc_. The polish which poetry had received from the Arabians\nin Spain had elevated it to an art, and made it so attractive to the\nmore refined classes that the highest born, even kings and princes,\ndid not think it beneath them to cultivate it; and he added greatly\nto his renown who had qualified himself to express in it the two\nruling passions of his soul--his martial ardor and his devotion to\nhis _ladye-love_. Every knight, almost, was a troubadour, and the\nhomage rendered to woman seems almost fabulous. A French writer says\nof this period:\n\n     \"Love had assumed a new character.... It was not more tender and\n     passionate than among the Romans; but it was more respectful,\n     and something of a mystery was mingled with its sentiment. Women\n     were considered rather as angelic beings than as dependents and\n     inferiors. The task of serving and protecting them was considered\n     honorable, as though they were the representatives of the divinity\n     upon earth; and to this worship was added an ardor of feeling,\n     passion, and desire, peculiar to the people of the south, and the\n     expression of which was borrowed from the Arabians.\"[169]\n\nWoman was not slow in extending her influence to more prosaic matters\nthan _Les Cours d'Amour_ and the inspirations of poetry; and history\nfurnishes an abundance of examples where female interference was\npermitted and female decision respected in the gravest affairs of\nlife. After Alphonso VI. of Castile had driven the Moors from\nToledo, he granted to such of them as chose to return the use of a\ncathedral to serve as a mosque; but, says history, \"he soon broke his\npromise, and deprived them of it, at the instigation of and in order\nto please his wife.\"\n\nWho, then, but a woman could have routed the grand-vizier from the\nchess-board and taken his place?\n\nThe other piece altered is the bishop, which of course was not so\ncalled by the orientals. This piece with the Arabians and Persians\nwas represented by an elephant, and named _pil_ or _phil_. In\nsouthern Europe, the name was modified into _alfil_ and _aufin_,\nand is found so in old writers; but at a very early period the\nbishop seems to have been generally adopted. In northern Europe,\nit was not so; the Russians and Swedes still retain the elephant.\nWhat we now call castle, and sometimes _rook_, was also called by\nthe Saracens _roc_, and by the Persians _rokh_, signifying champion\nor foot-soldier, and shaped accordingly. This form is seen in\nsome ancient chess-men in the British Museum, supposed to be of\nIcelandic manufacture; the Icelanders called this piece _hrokr_.\nThese chess-men, many in number and carved in ivory--that is, the\ntusk of the walrus--were found in the year 1831, on the coast of the\nIsle of Lewes, and are referred by antiquaries back to the twelfth\ncentury. They are the remnants of seven or eight distinct sets,\nand are therefore supposed to have belonged to some dealer who was\nshipwrecked there. The carving on them, and the costumes, bear traces\nof being Scandinavian. The _king_ is in a sitting posture, crowned,\nand has a sword in his hand, which he rests crossing his lap; the\n_queen_ also is crowned, and holds a drinking-horn, such as the\nnorthern women used in serving mead and ale to their guests; one of\nthem represents a _bishop_ with mitre and crozier; the _knights_ are\non horseback, and are covered with armor; and here is the _roc_ of\nthe Saracens in its original form, a kind of foot-soldier, in place\nof the castle--which, however, is yet called _rook_. The remainder\nare pawns. Thus they are nearly identical with any set of modern\nchess-men, although fabricated more than seven hundred years ago.\n\nThe largest king in this collection, in his sitting posture, is\nmore than four inches in height and near seven in circumference.\nThe other pieces are smaller, but correspond. The chess-board which\naccommodated such pieces must have been a formidable weapon in a\nstrong hand, and quite likely to \"break heads and scatter brains.\"\n\nMany old books are to be found in public and private libraries which\ncontain descriptions of chess-men, rules for playing, etc. In the\ntwelfth century, such a manual was composed by some devotee of the\ngame in Latin verse. A little later, a volume was written in Latin by\nJacques de Cessolas; it was translated into French by Jean de Vigny,\nand entitled _Moralization of Chess_. It may be seen in English in\nCaxton's _Boke of Chesse_, published in London, 1474.\n\nDamiano, a Portuguese, in the fifteenth century compiled a book of\ndirections for playing, with examples of eighty-eight games.\n\nA little volume, very amusing in its quaint old English, was\npublished in London in the reign of Elizabeth; it is dedicated to\nLord Robert Dudley, afterward the celebrated Earl of Leicester. It is\nentitled, _The Pleasaunt and Wittie Playe of the Cheasts, reviewed\nwith Instructions both to Learn it Easily and to Play it Well_.\n_Lately translated out of Italian into French, and now set forthe in\nEnglishe by James Rowbotham._\n\nIn it, among many other things, the author describes the chess-men:\n\n     \"As for the fashion of the pieces, that is according to the\n     fantasie of the workeman, which maketh them after this manner.\n     Some make them lyke men, whereof the _kynge_ is the highest, and\n     the _queene_ (which some name amasone or ladye) is the next, bothe\n     two crowned. The _bishoppes_ some name alphins, some fooles,\n     and some princes, lyke as also they are next unto the kynge and\n     queene, other some cal them archers, and they are fashioned\n     accordinge to the wyll of the workeman. The _knights_ some cal\n     horsemen, and they are men on horsebacke. The _rookes_ some call\n     elephantes, cariynge towres upon their backes, and men within the\n     towres. The _paunes_ some cal fote-men, as they are souldiours on\n     fote, cariynge some of them pykes, and other some javelyns and\n     targets. Other makers of cheast-men make them other fashions, but\n     use thereof wyll cause perfect knowledge.\"\n\nSuch has chess been through times past; it numbers still among its\nvotaries the noble and the learned; and it is advocated by some of\nthem with an enthusiasm surely never surpassed in the days long, long\ngone by in its oriental home.\n\nIt has floated down to us from those days like a leaf on some broad\nstream beneath whose waves mightier things have sunk.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[169] Sismondi, _Lit. of Troubadours_.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FIRST OECUMENICAL COUNCIL OF THE VATICAN.\n\n\nThe nineteenth century is still adding to the catalogue of important\nevents, for which it will be memorable in future histories. Men\nstill live who looked on Fulton's first steamboat on the Hudson, who\nventured on the first railway train, and who smiled incredulously at\nthe folly of Morse stretching iron wires on poles along the country\nbetween cities a day's journey apart, and pretending thus to transmit\nmessages between them with the velocity of electricity. The humble\nriver steamboat has developed into the gigantic ocean steamer, that\nheeds not the winds and bids defiance to the waves. Lines of railway\nintersect continents, and cross from ocean to ocean. Telegraph wires\nspread their network over every civilized land, and, boldly plunging\ninto ocean depths, aim to girdle the earth. The cotton-gin has\nrevolutionized the habits of nations and the commerce of the world,\nand the sewing-machine is bringing the change into every household.\nThis wondrous increase of travel and commerce among nations has given\nbirth to international exhibitions of art and industry as gorgeous\nas the visions of the Arabian story-teller. In the Suez Canal, this\ncentury has succeeded where antiquity failed; and in the Mont Cenis\ntunnel, soon to be finished, it is accomplishing what past ages never\ndreamed of attempting.\n\nScience, too, contributes her wonders. The sun and the stars and\nthe nebul\u00e6 are yielding their secrets; chemistry boasts of her\nunexpected conquests; and the earth is giving forth its pages of\ngeological lore, fragmentary as yet, and somewhat confused, ofttimes\nundecipherable, often wrongly read by men, but still presenting to us\na kingdom of knowledge unknown a century ago.\n\nIn the political and social sphere this century has been equally\nmarked. Vast wars and bloody revolutions ushered it in. Wars and\nrevolutions have marked every decade of its progress. Empires\nand kingdoms have been thrown down. Others have been established\ninstead, and have perished in their turn. The strong have grown\nweak, and the weak have become powerful. And to-day, the nations\nof the civilized world feel that they stand on the thin crust of a\nvolcano, that trembles under our feet, and that may at any time burst\nforth, in other revolutions and wars, in which arms of precision,\ntitanic artillery, and iron-clad vessels shall play a part never yet\nwitnessed by men.\n\nIn the moral and religious world, too, there is equal excitement and\nconfusion. Novel principles are proposed, advocated, and pushed to\ntheir extreme and most violent consequences. Nothing in government,\nin morals, or in religion is left unassailed. There is an incessant\nwar against God, against truth and virtue, and against every\nprinciple that would withstand the passions, or the interests, or the\ncaprices of men. And the press, which in its wondrous development\nhas kept full pace with every other art, is ever busy bringing to\nevery household, to old and young alike, sometimes words of truth and\ngoodness, but a thousand times oftener and more actively lessons of\nimmorality, discontent, disorder, and irreligion.\n\nIn looking at the world, as it is now, so rapidly moving on, with\nits vast energies and untiring activity, its ever-increasing\ncommerce, its intense worship of luxury, its oblivion of principle,\nits grasping after wealth, its restlessness and craving for change\nfor change's sake, one feels like the traveller who crosses the\nAlps by that late feat of modern engineering, the Mont Cenis Fell\nRailway. The wondrous scenery of mountain and valley charms you.\nYou are amazed at the boldness which conceived, and the skill which\nexecuted the work. You rejoice, as you are borne rapidly on, in the\nluxuriously-cushioned seat and well-warmed railway compartment, over\nthe steep road you remember well to have travelled, years ago, so\nslowly and painfully. But amid all this pleasure, you cannot shut out\nthe thought that perhaps the very rumbling and jarring of the train\nmay set in motion the vast field of freshly-fallen snow that lies\nso lightly on the steep side of the peak rising above you, on the\nright or the left, and bring it down as an irresistible avalanche,\noverwhelming road and train, and casting the shattered cars and\nmangled passengers down to the masses of rock and ice that lie in the\ngorge a thousand yards below.\n\nWe glory in our rapid advance in arts, science, and civilization.\nWe feel ourselves borne rapidly and joyously forward in a career of\nprogress. But we cannot shut out entirely a sense of danger. In many\ncountries, society is mined by revolutionary combinations, active\nand vigilant, watching for any favorable opportunity, and ever ready\nto take advantage of it. In the universal questioning of every thing\nand of every principle, the minds of the masses have become excited,\nhave lost in great part, or are fast losing, those fixed and hallowed\nprinciples of justice and truth which are absolutely necessary for\ncorrect judgment and prudent action. They are ripe for any plan to\nbe proposed, even if its only attraction be its novelty. And they\nmay easily become a mighty engine of brute, unthinking power, in\nthe hands of any one bold enough to seize the control, and skilful\nenough to guide them for a time. Might now makes right. The world is\nruled on the theory of accomplished facts. Peace itself must stand\narmed _cap-\u00e0-pie_. No one knows into what horrors the death of one\nindividual might, any month, throw hundreds of millions of men.\n\nHas all sense of right and justice faded from the minds of men? Must\nour progress be marred by this ever-increasing danger. Is there no\nvoice to be raised, no authority to come forth to meet this emergency\nof the world?\n\nGod gave revelation to mankind, teaching the world truth and justice,\ncharity and every virtue, and imparting to man, in his weakness,\nstrength to struggle against and overcome his own passions and the\ntemptations from without. To his church, the pillar and ground\nof truth, Christ committed the duty of teaching all nations all\nthings whatsoever he had taught, and promised to be with her, in the\ndischarge of this duty, all days even to the consummation of the\nworld. In its fulfilment she must meet opposition, trials, scandals,\nand difficulties of every sort. But the gates of hell shall never\nprevail against her.\n\nMany a struggle has she gone through, in the eighteen centuries of\nher existence; and incalculable are the benefits the world owes to\nher, even by the confession of her enemies.\n\nWhile she ever and always teaches the unchangeable truths and\nprecepts given by her Divine Founder, she is ready to accept and\nbless what she finds of good among men, and labors to eliminate what\nis evil. From Greece she took what was pure in poetry and the fine\narts, and true in philosophy. From Rome she gathered what was just\nand good in her admirable jurisprudence. Yet, even in the face of\nbitter persecution, she failed not to denounce immorality, however\ndecked in classic verse; atheism and impiety, however clothed in\nwords of seeming intellectual wisdom; and cruel tyranny, however\nupheld by power and authority, or made sacred by antiquity and\nthe prejudices or manners of a people. In after times, under the\ndebauched and luxurious rule of the Byzantine emperors, and still\nlater, When the northern barbarians had overrun western Europe and\ndestroyed all government, her powerful influence was felt. Hers was\nthe only voice which could reach and in some measure control the\nfierce men who sat on thrones they had built with the sword, or\ncould bring peace and the consolations of religion to the hovel of\nthe poor and oppressed. She checked immorality and injustice and\ntaught obedience to law. No one will now contest the truth, that it\nis to her the modern world owes what knowledge we have of the olden\nclassic civilization. But for her, it would be as dead to us as that\nof Assyria is to the wild Arabs who pitch their tents on the mounds\nof Kouyunjik and Khorsabad. To her it owes those grand principles\nof law and justice, of stable government and individual rights,\nof holy marriage, and of arts and science, which go to constitute\ncivilization. The church of Christ cannot be wanting in any emergency\nof men. It is her office to establish order where else chaos would\nreign.\n\nHence it is that in this present crisis, this time of so much good\nand so much evil, so many hopes and such great danger, she renews and\nincreases her efforts, as of old, that what is good may be increased\nand confirmed, what is evil may be diminished or eliminated. She\ndevotes to the work her most solemn and effective mode of action--an\noecumenical council.\n\nAssuredly no more remarkable event has occurred in this nineteenth\ncentury than the meeting of this Oecumenical Council of the Vatican,\nformally opened in Rome on December 8th last, the feast of the\nImmaculate Conception. The civilized world seems conscious of its\nimportance. Catholics and Protestants, believers and infidels, all\ntreat of it, some with full faith and earnest hope, some with a dim\nsense of reverence, some with curiosity, and some with hatred. But\nnone can ignore or despise it. The books that have been published,\nthe stream of pamphlets in every language that is flooding Europe,\nthe countless articles of every character in countless newspapers of\nevery hue--all bear witness to the universal interest in an assembly\nso extraordinary in its character, and destined to wield so great a\nmoral influence.\n\nMen are struck with wonder at this singular and hitherto\nunprecedented representation of the whole world. The number of\nmembers is in itself large. There were present at the opening\nsession, 5 cardinal bishops, 36 cardinal priests, 8 cardinal deacons,\n9 patriarchs, 4 primates, 124 archbishops, 481 bishops, 6 abbots with\n_quasi_-episcopal jurisdiction, 22 mitred abbots, and 29 superiors of\nreligious orders; in all, 719 of the 1050, or thereabouts, who would\nhave the right to enter. Many dioceses in the world are vacant, the\nvenerable bishops of others are too aged to travel so far, some are\ndetained by illness and will come later, and some, to their regret,\nare detained by the special circumstances of their own dioceses.\nNone of those under the Czar of Russia have come. His Tartar policy\nthrew them into dungeons, where some died. Those that lived he sent\nto Siberia, some for their religion, some for being Poles. But among\nthe bishops here every other nation of Europe has a full and strong\nrepresentation. Besides all these, there are also forty-nine from\nthe United States, eighteen or twenty from Canada and the British\npossessions of North America, and over forty from Mexico and the\nvarious states of South America. The eastern and the western shores\nof Africa have sent several; two have come from British Africa,\nat the south, and quite a number--among them a Coptic bishop from\nEgypt--represent the dioceses along the Mediterranean shores of\nAfrica. All the ancient oriental rites of the church have patriarchs,\narchbishops, and bishops in the council; India, Thibet, China, Japan\nitself, Australia, New Zealand, and the isles of the Pacific are\nfully represented. Never before in the history of the world was there\nseen such a gathering of prelates from the uttermost parts of the\nearth. And the members who compose the council deserve individually\nspecial attention. They are chosen men, holding in their several\nhomes posts of dignity, responsibility, and authority. The Catholic\nChurch is in one aspect eminently democratic. She will take into the\nroll of her clergy men of every rank and station. She asks not what\nwas their condition or their lineage. If a clergyman possess piety,\nlearning, zeal, and administrative ability, the door is open for his\npreferment, even to her highest offices. If Pius IX. is noble born,\nhis predecessor, Gregory XVI., was the son of a poor village baker,\nand owed his earliest education, and his entrance into the sanctuary,\nto the gratuitous kindness of a good monk, who was attracted by the\nbright eyes and intelligent look of the modest little boy, as he used\nto carry around to customers the loaves his father had baked. So\ntoo of these bishops. Some may be of lordly, or noble, or princely\nlineage. Others were born in humble, thatched cottages. Here they\nare equal. Some have doffed the ermine, some have quitted the bar,\nothers left the army, where their names are still mentioned with\npraise and soldierly pride by their old companions in arms. Some\nhave given up to younger brothers wealth and titles, that they might\nfreely devote themselves to God's holy work. Some, filled with\napostolic zeal, have given up friends and home and country to go to\ndistant lands to preach Christ and him crucified; and some have been\nhonored with chains and imprisonment and stripes for Christ's sake.\nThey all pursued a long career of preparatory studies, they were\nafterward tried by long years of practice in the ministry, and have\nfinally been chosen as qualified for their important and responsible\npositions. Differing, as they do, in language and nationalities and\nhuman feelings and prejudices, they have all the same faith, the\nsame zeal, and have all come together at the summons of their common\nfather. They all gather around the chair of Peter.\n\nWell may the world look with wonder at such an assembly as this,\ncontaining so much of learning, such strength of character, such\npersonal worth, wielding so much power over the minds and consciences\nof men, possessing such an intimate, practical knowledge of the whole\nworld, of the good and the bad in it, and of the needs of men--an\nassembly every member of which has learned, by years of ministerial\nduty, to read, as no others can, the heart of man, and where all\nhave come together with the same earnest purpose, and in the same\nsingleness of heart, to confer candidly and frankly with each other,\nin order, with the aid and light of heavenly grace, to determine on\nsuch measures as shall best promote the glory of God, the interests\nof religion, and the spread of truth and virtue among men. Even to\nthe man of the world, not to say to the Christian, can any thing be\nnobler or more worthy of respect than such a meeting? Must not every\nhonest heart rejoice in the effort they will make, and wish them\nsuccess?\n\nBut to the Catholic this oecumenical council has a higher character.\nWe know that the church was founded not by man, but by Christ\nhimself; that she stands, not by human learning or human wisdom and\nprudence, but by the power of God; that Christ is ever with her, that\nhe has sent his Holy Spirit, the Spirit of truth, to abide with her\nfor ever, to teach her all truth, to recall to her mind all things\nwhatsoever he taught, and that so she is to us the pillar and ground\nof truth. We look back and see that in all the great emergencies of\nChristian truth, or rather emergencies of the world, it has been her\ncustom to call together her bishops in councils like this. Thus,\nwhen Arianism arose, and the minds of simple men were thrown into\nconfusion and perplexity concerning the divinity of the Saviour by\nthe wily quotations of Scripture and the plausible teachings of\nerror, the Council of Nice declared clearly and emphatically the\noriginal doctrine of the divinity of the Son; and guarded it by\nestablishing the consecrated terms in which thenceforth Christian\nlips should express it. So, too, when Nestorius and Eutyches, and\nother later heresiarchs arose, other councils were held, solemnly\nsetting forth the original doctrines received and held by the church,\nand pointing out and condemning the opposite errors. So, too, in the\nsixteenth century the Council of Trent met and gave to the world a\nfull and clear statement of the Catholic doctrine of justification,\nso violently assailed by Luther and his followers and companions--a\ndoctrine, by the way, which no small portion of those non-Catholics\nwho still retain a belief in an actual divine revelation, now\nreceive substantially and admit to be the only doctrine on that head\nreconcilable with reason and common sense.\n\nSo, too, in this nineteenth century, amid the confusing uncertainties\nof men, and the discordant clashing of opinions in the world, we\nturn with reverent hope, with fullest confidence in the words of\nthe Saviour, and with grateful hearts and willing minds, to this\nfirst Oecumenical Council of the Vatican. We recognize in it the\nsame authority which spoke at Nice, at Ephesus, and at Chalcedon, at\nConstantinople, at Lyons, and at the Lateran, and in Trent. We await\nthe words of its teaching and its precepts of discipline. For it\nwill speak with authority. \"It hath seemed good to the Holy Ghost and\nto us.\"\n\nOur readers are no doubt familiar with the chief antecedents of the\ncouncil. It was in his address to the bishops assembled in Rome in\nJune, 1867, to celebrate the centenary of St. Peter's martyrdom,\nthat the Holy Father made the first public and official announcement\nof what had been for a short time before mooted and considered in\nprivate. It was his desire, at as early a day as circumstances\nwould allow, to convene the bishops of the Catholic world in an\noecumenical council. The prelates present, about five hundred in\nnumber, expressed their gratification and cordial assent. The attacks\nof the Garibaldians in November, 1867, if successful, would probably\nhave frustrated the design. But under divine Providence it signally\nfailed. Some thought that the bull of convocation would appear in\nDecember, 1867. But it was not published until the midsummer of\n1868, and the council was summoned for December 8th, 1869. It was\na solemn work. All felt that a most important day was approaching\nin the history of the church. Throughout the world, ever since, in\nevery church and religious house, as often as the priest ascended the\naltar to celebrate the divine mysteries, or those vowed to the Lord\nassembled to sing his praises, petitions were offered unceasingly\nthat God would bless the council, and give to the prelates such\nlight and grace as would lead them to speak and act for his greater\nglory and the welfare of souls. As months rolled on and the time\napproached, clergy and faithful throughout the world united with\nredoubled fervor in triduums, novenas, and suitable religious\nexercises to obtain this special favor from Heaven.\n\nIn order that when the prelates should come, they might not be\ndetained too long from their dioceses attending the council--as was\nthe case at Trent--it was deemed advisable to establish preparatory\ncommittees of chosen theologians to study maturely such questions\nas it was thought would probably come up or be proposed in the\ncouncil. In Rome, the centre of theological learning, there were\neminent theologians in abundance from whom to choose. But it was\nfelt that something more was needed. To erudition must be added an\nintimate knowledge of the modes of thought and the practical needs\nof the various nations; something which books alone cannot give.\nHence, eminent theologians from France, Germany, England, Ireland,\nand other countries were invited, and sent to Rome as representative\nmen of their respective countries. From the United States, the Very\nRev. Dr. Corcoran, of Charleston, South Carolina, whom our bishops\nhad learned to appreciate as secretary to our Second Plenary Council\nof Baltimore, was chosen for this purpose, and came to Rome fifteen\nmonths ago. The choice was a most happy one. He has won the esteem\nand respect of all by his simple and quiet dignity of manner, the\nvastness of his learning, and, more than all, by his sound judgment\nand practical good sense. I believe he stands in the council as one\nof the theologians to the pope. Five committees, thus formed of Roman\nand foreign theologians, each under the presidency of a cardinal,\nhave for nearly a year and a half been engaged in an exhaustive\nstudy of the subjects most likely to come up. Their dissertations\nand essays on such points have been printed for the private use of\nthe bishops, and being up to the day, must be of great use, and will\nnaturally aid much in expediting business.\n\nOther material preparations were necessary. The sessions of the\ncouncil were to be held in the north arm of the Transept of St.\nPeter's--that which stretches toward the Vatican Palace. The place\nassigned had to be fitted up with appropriate decorations and\nsuitable furniture. Other places were to be prepared for the general\ncongregations--committees of the whole, as they would be termed in\nthe United States--and for particular congregations, or special\ncommittees. Beyond this, many of the bishops who would desire to\nattend would be too poor to pay the exorbitant rates which landlords\nhere and elsewhere know how to ask when a city is crowded--as\nRome would be--perhaps might be too poor to pay any thing. Such\nshould be the guests of the Holy Father. He would provide for them.\nThis was obviously the case with many of the Italian bishops. The\nkingdom of Italy has seized and turned over to the national treasury\nall ecclesiastical property, promising, as a partial compensation\ninstead, to pay the clergy a stated stipend from the government. As\nmight be expected from persons capable of committing such wholesale\nand barefaced robbery, the promise, in too many instances, has never\nbeen kept. I apprehend that the vast majority of the clergy of Italy\nare now managing to feed, clothe, and lodge themselves on an average\nof twenty cents a day. The number of such bishops from Italy, with\nothers from the East, and from distant and very poor missions, may\namount to one hundred and fifty or two hundred.\n\nAll this would cost money, and the pope himself, stripped of four\nfifths of the territory of the States of the Church, but not\nstripped, as yet, of the old public debt, the interest of which he\nis struggling to meet punctually, is poor. The earnest Catholics of\nevery country knew his condition and poured in contributions for this\npurpose. Last autumn the papers announced that all due preparations\nwere being actively pushed forward.\n\nIn October, bishops began to arrive. The first comers were from the\nEast, who had set out early. In their countries men travel slowly,\nand time is not so precious. Perhaps, too, some thought they might\nbe as long on the journey as their records and traditions said\ntheir predecessors had been four hundred years ago, when they came\nto the Council of Florence. The European and western bishops were\nbetter acquainted with the speed of railways and steamers, and\nbegan to pour in only in the latter portion of November. By the\n1st of December, fully five hundred had arrived, and the week that\nfollowed saw two hundred more come in. Every courtesy was shown\nthem. As a train crossed the frontier into the Pontifical States,\nan officer ascertained the names of all the bishops, telegraphed\nthe information to Rome, and, on their arrival, they found other\nofficials ready to welcome them, and to escort them in carriages\nto their several destinations. Their baggage, too, was exempt from\ncustom-house inspection. This, however, was a favor scarcely confined\nto the Pontifical States. In more than one instance, bishops have\npassed from the United States, through England, France, and (strange\ncontrast to 1867) even through Northern Italy, without having their\ntrunks once opened. It were to be wished that the annoying and now\nuseless system of passports were done away with. It has scarcely any\nadvantage save that of giving fees to consuls and employees.\n\nOn December 2d, the Holy Father delivered to the bishops then in\nRome, assembled in the Sixtine chapel, an allocution in preparation\nfor the council; and they received printed copies of an apostolical\nletter, dated November 27th, settling some matters for the good\norder of the council, and the dispatch of business. Chapter i.\nreiterates the laws of the church, and enjoins on all the duty of\nliving piously, and of carefully maintaining an exemplary demeanor.\nChapter ii. declares the full liberty of each bishop to propose any\nmatter which he thinks of importance. But that all things may be done\nin order, and without unnecessary confusion, and consequent delay\nof other matters, such propositions must be submitted in writing,\nmust be supported by some show of reason, must be of a character to\nconcern more than one or two dioceses only, and must not run counter\nto the constant sense and inviolable traditions of the church. A\nspecial committee shall be appointed by the pope to receive such\npropositions, and to consider whether they fulfil the required\nconditions, to report to the pope. The committee has since been\nappointed. The Archbishop of Baltimore is a member of it. Chapter\niii. charges all to keep silence on the matters under discussion. The\ncouncil will hardly be as leaky as Congress, and our readers will do\nwell to pay little or no attention to the thousand and one reports\nthat will be circulated in the newspapers.[170]\n\nChapter iv. declares that the seats shall be occupied according\nto grades of the hierarchy, and seniority of promotion. Other\nchapters set forth the officials, secretaries, notaries, masters\nof ceremonies, etc.--a matter of obvious necessity under the\ncircumstances; establish six general committees, the members of which\nare to be elected by ballot; and make known some points of order to\nbe observed in the religious exercises of the public sessions and the\ngeneral congregations; and finally enjoin on the bishops attending\nthe council to remain until the close of it, forbidding any one to\ndepart before such close, save with regular leave of absence, duly\napplied for and obtained.\n\nWith a copy of this letter the bishops also received pamphlets\ncontaining the forms of prayers to be used, and a detailed account\nof the ceremonial to be followed, all based on or extracted from the\nceremonial of the ancient councils.\n\nFor the people little preparation had been made, or indeed could be\nmade in the church. St. Peter's has no pews; you will not find even\nbenches or chairs. On grand occasions, when the pope is celebrant,\nseats are placed in the arms of the transept, capable of holding six\nor eight thousand persons, who are admitted by ticket, and must come\nin the proper costume. They are chiefly occupied by ladies. But on\nthis occasion one half of this space was required for the council.\nOn the other hand, Rome would be full, and it was felt that not one\ntwentieth of those who would desire, and indeed who would ordinarily\nbe entitled to receive tickets for such reserved seats, could be\naccommodated. The gordian knot was cut by dispensing with reserved\nseats altogether, and leaving full play to the democratic principle\nof _first come, first served_.\n\nOn Tuesday, Rome was in commotion, and given over to the mercies\nof free-trade in lodgings. Householders were waylaying strangers,\nstriving to let their apartments at the highest possible rates.\nStrangers were wandering about seeking apartments which they might\nobtain on the lowest possible terms. Purchases were briskly made in\npreparation for the morrow. Everywhere, all day long, in carriages\nand on foot, and in all the different costumes of their several\nnations, might be seen bishops and priests passing to and fro,\nvisiting the churches and the shrines of martyrs, or seeking out\nsome friend of their youth, whom they had not seen, perhaps, for\ntwenty-five or forty years, but who, they were told, had just arrived\nin Rome.\n\nAt noon precisely, the booming of the great bell of St. Peter's came\nover the Campus Martius and the seven hills of Rome. Instantly the\nthousand bells of the three hundred churches of the Eternal City\nanswered in one united clamorous peal; and the cannon of St. Angelo,\nand the heavier metal of the new Aventine Fort, chimed in with the\ndeep bass of a grand national salute. And thus, for an hour, was\nheralded the near approach of the great day. Again at nightfall the\nsalute was repeated.\n\nThe morning of December 8th dawned--the Festival of the Immaculate\nConception, and the day fixed for opening the council. A third\nrepetition of the uproarious yet thrilling salutation awaked the\nsluggards, if there were any. We say if there were any; for although\nthe clouds were hanging low and heavy, and the air was filled with\nmist, and at times the rain poured down, all Rome was astir. By\nfive A.M., the murmur of voices and the tramping of pedestrians\nfilled every street, and soon the rolling of carriages over the\nhard pavements sounded like distant thunder. By six A.M., tens\nof thousands were wending their way, despite the weather, to St.\nPeter's; and by seven, every eligible portion of the floor of the\nvast basilica was crowded. At half-past seven, the cardinals,\narchbishops, and bishops began to gather in the Vatican Palace, where\nthey robed, putting on white copes and mitres, and then passed to the\ngreat hall at the front, and immediately over the vestibule of St.\nPeter's. Here the masters of ceremony assigned to each one his proper\nplace, and they awaited the coming of the sovereign pontiff.\n\nPunctual to the moment, he appeared. All knelt in prayer. In a clear\nand sonorous voice he intoned the _Veni Creator Spiritus_. The choir\ntook up the strain, the bishops arose, and commenced to move in\nprocession back to the Vatican Palace, through the ducal hall, down\nthe unequalled Scala Regia, and into the vestibule of St. Peter's.\nAlong the line the voice of chanting was heard. Without, the air was\nfilled again with the sound of bells and the booming of cannon.\n\nIt was not like the grand processions on which Rome delights to look\nevery year. The young orphan boys, with their snow-white dresses and\nangel faces, the various religious orders, Capuchins, Franciscans,\nMinor Observantists, Conventuals, Carmelites, Augustinians,\nCistercians, Benedictines, Dominicans, and Canons Regular, in their\nvaried and picturesque dresses, did not walk in it. There were no\nconfraternities with their huge crosses, no groups of clergy from\nthe many parish churches, no chapters of the ancient basilicas with\ntheir tent-like canopies and tolling bells. These appeared not in\nthe ranks; but delegates from all of them formed lines on either\nside, between which, as guards, the prelates marched two and two,\neach one attended by his chaplain. It was a procession such as the\nworld has seen but once before, and that six hundred years ago, at\nthe Second Council of Lyons. First came the cross, surrounded with\nburning lights and clouds of incense from the censers, and a group\nof ecclesiastics attached to the Vatican and to St. Peter's. On came\nthe long white line of mitred abbots, bishops, archbishops, primates,\npatriarchs, and cardinals, slowly moving, joining in the chanted\nhymn, or else with subdued voices reciting psalms and prayers. The\nhall, the grand stairway, and the vestibule were packed by thousands\nwho despaired of being able to enter the church, and hoped at least\nto look on the procession. All eyes seemed to scrutinize the line of\nprelates with reverent curiosity. Some in the line had not yet lost\nthe smoothness of their cheeks. They had not yet closed their eighth\nlustre. The great majority had passed the half-century of life.\nLabors, cares, and study had brought furrows to many a brow and many\na cheek; gray hairs had come, often prematurely; but the firm step\ntold of still unexhausted strength. Their faces, full of intellect\nand decision, told of long and sturdy labor in the vineyard; you felt\nthey could still bear the heat of the day and the brunt of labor.\nMany of them, too, far more than the younger ones, were aged and\nvenerable prelates, who, like the rest, had come at the summons of\nthe chief pastor. But when they should have borne their testimony to\nthe faith in this council, they would soon say, _Nunc dimittis_.\n\nIt was a glorious line. The spectators, of every nation, looked to\nrecognize the bishops each of his own land. They pointed out and\nwhispered to each other the names of those who had won for themselves\na world-wide reputation in the church, and looked with special\nattention on the oriental prelates, scattered here and there through\nthe line, robed, not like those of the Latin rite, in unadorned white\ncopes and white linen mitres, but in richly ornamented chasubles or\ncopes of oriental fashion, glittering with gold and precious stones\nand bright colors, and wearing on their heads tiaras radiant with\ngems. On they passed, Italians, Greeks, Germans, Persians, Syrians,\nHungarians, Spanish and Copt, Irish and French, Scotch and Brazilian,\nMexican and English, American and Chinese, Canadian and South\nAmerican and Australian; abbots, bishops, archbishops, primates, and\npatriarchs.\n\nNext came the cardinals--the senate of the church. If before you saw\nthe strength of the church, here you looked on the embodiment of\nintelligence and wisdom, in the most venerable body in the world.\nSpotless purity of life, brilliant talents, long study, a longer\nexperience of men and affairs in a series of responsible offices\nworthily filled--a thorough devotion of all their powers to the\ninterests of religion, have led them to this dignity--Antonelli,\nBilio, Bonnechose, Cullen, Schwartzenberg, Hohenlohe, Barnabo, Pitra,\nPatrizi--every one seemed worthy of, and to receive, special homage\nas they slowly moved on.\n\nBut even they were forgotten as the Holy Father approached.\nSurrounded by his chaplains and attendants, by Swiss guards in their\npicturesque costume, designed, it is said, with an eye to effect, by\nMichael Angelo himself, and by the Roman noble guard in their richest\nuniforms, he came borne, according to the old Roman custom which\nhas come down from the times of the republic, in a curule chair,\nsuch as ediles and senators were borne in; such as that which the\nconvert Senator Pudens appropriated to the Apostle St. Peter, which\nhe and many of his successors used, and which is still preserved with\ncare and veneration in St. Peter's. Pius IX. is, we believe, really\neighty-one years of age. He is still robust, wonderfully so for that\nage. His countenance beams still with that paternal benevolence which\nhas such power to charm. None ever looked on him without feeling it.\nNo one, Catholic or Protestant, Israelite, Turk, or infidel, ever\nleft his presence without carrying away a sense of reverence, and\nsweet memories of a blessing received. All knelt as he was borne by,\nblessing them on either side. In his train followed other attendants\nand the superiors of religious orders, who enter the council, but are\nnot privileged to wear mitres. Conspicuous among them was the thin,\nascetic, fleshless form of the superior-general of the Jesuits, in\nblack--the little black pope, as they call him in Rome.\n\nMeanwhile the head of the procession has long since reached the\ngrand portals of the Basilica. From the door to the central line\nof the transept is about four hundred feet, and the nave of the\nchurch is about ninety-five feet wide. All this space is crowded\nwith people standing so jammed together that there is not room to\nkneel, if one wished. Back on either side, under the broad arches,\nand into the side aisles, the vast mass of humanity extends. The\nbases of the columns and piers are seen to rise to the level of\ntheir heads, and, guided by this measure, the eye, for once, catches\nat a glance the immense proportions of this gigantic building. The\npartition which cuts off a portion of the transept for the special\nuse of the council is not seen from the nave, and the church stands\nbefore you in all the grandeur of its architecture, unchanged for\nbetter or for worse by those vast masses of drapery and those lines\nof galloon, and the hundreds of immense chandeliers which sometimes\nare placed here to adorn it. To the Roman eye, familiar with every\ndetail of the building, such an adornment may be pleasing as a\nchange. But strangers love to see St. Peter's as they see it now,\nin its own native beauty and majesty. The eye loves to pass from\nthe noble columns and the statues of pure Carrara to the unfading\nmosaics, the variegated marbles of the walls and piers, the ornaments\nin sculptured relief, the richly-wrought capitals, the vast line\nof cornice of classic accuracy, and the lofty arched ceiling, one\nhundred and fifty feet and more overhead, profusely decorated with\npanelling, roses, and richest gilding. It travels on to the main\naltar with its hundred ever-burning lamps around the tomb of the\ngreat apostle of Rome, and the spiral columns and canopy of bronze\nwhich rise full ninety feet above it. And hundreds of feet further\naway, in the western apsis, you catch a view of the bronze statues of\nthe four great doctors of the church, who support the identical chair\nof St. Peter, and of the circular window of stained glass through\nwhich the Holy Dove seems to pour in a stream of golden light,\ngiving life and heavenly beauty to that other flood which pours down\ninto the church from the lofty dome.\n\nGuards had kept free for the procession a passage-way through the\ncrowd, from the door to the main altar. Up this lane the bishops\nwalked with uncovered heads, for the blessed sacrament was exposed on\nthe altar. Kneeling a moment in adoration, they arose, and, turning\nto the right, passed into the space set aside and prepared for the\ncouncil hall. To each one, as he entered, his proper place was\nassigned by the masters of ceremony. The greater part were so placed,\nwhen a fuller burst of the choir told us that the Holy Father had\nreached the portals of the church, had been received by the chapter\nof canons, and was entering. He left the curule chair and doffed his\nmitre; for a greater than he is here enthroned, and even the pope\nmust walk with uncovered head. He, and the cardinals with him, knelt\nat the main altar as the bishops had done, and waited until the last\nstrophe of the hymn, _Veni Sancte Spiritus_, was finished by the\nchoir. He arose, chanted the versicle and prayer to the Holy Ghost,\nand then, preceded by the cardinals, also entered the council hall.\nThey passed each to his proper place, the pontiff to a _prie Dieu_\nprepared for him in the middle, to await the commencement of the high\nmass.\n\nWe have said that this council hall occupies nearly all of the\nnorthern arm of the great transept. That arm alone is over two\nhundred feet long, and ninety-five feet broad. Its northern extremity\nis a semi-circular apsis, and midway of its length it is crossed by\nthe northern aisle of the church, which opens into it by a lofty and\nwide arch on either side. These arches are now closed at the top by\ntemporary partition walls. In front--that is, on the south, toward\nthe main altar and nave--another partition wall, perhaps fifty feet\nhigh, shuts the hall off from the main body of the building. All\nthese walls are exquisitely colored, so as to correspond even in\nminute details with the decorations and color of the marbles of the\nchurch. In the last-named wall is a large doorway, fully twenty feet\nwide, through which the prelates and cardinals and the pontiff have\npassed in. It is open now, (though when necessary it can be closed,)\nand you may look in and see the interior arrangement. In the further\nextremity, the semi-circular apsis, a number of steps rise to a\nplatform, in the middle of which other steps lead to the throne of\nthe pontiff, surmounted by a canopy with hanging drapery. On either\nhand, elevated one step less, are placed the cardinals, before each\none a kneeling-stand, which may be changed into a writing-desk.\nBefore the cardinals, and a little lower, sit the patriarchs. Down\neither side of the hall, for the full length, run seven rows of\nbenches with high backs. The front row is on the floor, the others\nrising as they recede, so that the last one next the wall is about\nthe same level with the platform. In the middle, about one fifth of\nthe way from the door, with its face toward the pope and the bishops,\nand its back toward the door stands a temporary altar prepared\nfor the mass, with which every public session and every general\ncongregation will commence. Here and there, on the floor, are seats\nand tables for the use of the secretaries, notaries, stenographers,\nand other officials. Of the altar we need not speak. It is simple\nthough rich in materials, and without accessory ornamentation, which\nwould take up space and impede the view. The platform is covered, as\nis the floor, with Brussels carpeting. The seats of the cardinals are\ncovered with red damask; those of the patriarchs with purple. The\nseats of the bishops are covered with Brussels tapestry of a greenish\nhue. They are roomy. Each bishop uses the back of the seat before him\nas a _prie Dieu_ when he kneels. Should he at other times wish to\nwrite, there is a table hinged to it in front of him, which he may\nraise up and render firm by a movable support. When he is done, he\nsimply moves back the support and lets down the table to its former\nposition. All is simple, yet very satisfactory. There is, near at\nhand, a refreshment room, and, indeed, every convenience that is\nneeded. The artistic decorations of the hall also deserve attention.\nThey are not many, but are excellent and appropriate, and were\nprepared, of course, for this occasion. Over the doorway, as you are\nabout to enter from the church, there is a majestic painting of the\nSaviour enthroned in the clouds, holding the Gospel open in his left\nhand, while the right is stretched forth in command to the apostles.\nUnderneath is the inscription, \"GO, TEACH ALL NATIONS. I AM WITH YOU\nALL DAYS, EVEN TO THE CONSUMMATION OF THE WORLD.\" In the interior of\nthe hall, over the seat of the pope, is a painting of the Descent of\nthe Holy Ghost. On either side are the Council of the Apostles at\nJerusalem, and the Councils of Nice, of Ephesus, and of Trent. Higher\nup are large medallion paintings of the twenty-two popes who called\nor presided personally or by legates over the various oecumenical\ncouncils of the church; while higher still are colossal figures of\nthe four great doctors of the church, St. Ambrose, St. Augustine, St.\nJerome, and St. John Chrysostom. All the seats we have mentioned are\nfor the prelates and officials. There are several galleries opening\nthrough the wall rather than projecting forward. On the left of the\npope, as he is seated, is one for the singers of the Sistine chapel.\nOn his right is another, to be occupied by sovereigns and members of\nroyal families. The Empress of Austria, the Queen of W\u00fcrtemberg, and\nthe King of Naples were present at the opening. Another much larger\none, on the side of the singers, is for the diplomatic corps. It was\nfilled with ambassadors in their state uniforms, with full display\nof jewelled decorations. Two other similar galleries are for the\ntheologians.\n\nThe council hall, as we have described it, is about two hundred\nfeet long and nearly one hundred feet broad. The ceiling above is\nthat of the transept; like that of the nave, arched, panelled, and\ndecorated with gilding, and is one hundred and fifty feet above you.\nThe seemingly low partition wall in front shuts out the view of the\nlower portions of the church, but you have a full view of the upper\nhalf of the columns and piers, with their statues and decorations,\nand of the cornice and lofty-arched ceiling, and above all, of the\nmagnificent dome, with its mosaics of the evangelists and the angelic\nhost. You see and feel all the time that you are in St. Peter's. But\nthere are drawbacks. The size of the hall, the height of the ceiling,\nand, perhaps more than either, this want of disconnection from the\nchurch, render it impossible for any but the strongest voices with\neminently clear enunciation to fill it and be understood. Weak, and\neven moderate voices, are simply inaudible to the majority. As things\nare now arranged, discussion would seem impossible, and already\nthere is talk of changes which may have to be indicated in our next\narticle. But let us return to the pope and the bishops, whom we left\nawaiting the commencement of the pontifical high mass. This should\nhave been celebrated by Cardinal Mattei, the dean of the body. But\nhis age and infirmities are too great to permit so great an exertion.\nAccordingly, the next in rank, Cardinal Patrizi, took his place,\nand was the celebrant. The pontiff approached the altar with him,\nrecited the _Judica_ and the _Confiteor_, and then retired to his\nown seat, and the cardinal ascended to the altar and continued the\nmass. The music was that of Palestrina, executed by the papal choir\nas they alone can sing, and without any instrumental accompaniment.\nSuch voices as theirs need none. Just before the last gospel, a\nportable pulpit was brought out near the altar; Mgr. Passavalli,\nArchbishop of Iconium, ascended it, wearing cope and mitre, and\npreached the introductory sermon. It was in Latin--the language of\nthe council--and occupied just forty minutes. It has since been\npublished, and the reader will not fail to recognize and admire\nthe eloquence and fervor of his thoughts and the elegance of his\nLatinity. But no pages can give an idea of the clear, ringing voice,\nthe musical Italian intonations, and the dignified and impressive,\nalmost impassioned gesture of the truly eloquent Capuchin. The sermon\nover, the pope gave the solemn blessing, the Gospel of St. John was\nrecited, and the mass was over.\n\nThe altar being now clear, the attendants brought in a rich,\nthrone-like stand, and placed it on the altar in the centre.\nMonsignor Fessler, secretary of the council, attended by his\nassistant, brought in procession a large book of the Gospels,\nelegantly bound, and reverently placed it on the throne. It was the\nplace due to the inspired record of the life and teachings of our\ndivine Lord--a ceremony touching and most appropriate at the opening\nof a council of his followers, assembled in his name, to declare and\nvindicate his teaching, and promote and carry out the commission he\ngave them.\n\nThe Holy Father then assumed his full pontifical robes. The cardinals\nand all the prelates, in their proper order, then approached, one by\none, to pay him homage, kissing his hand or the stole he wore. Their\nnumbers made it a long ceremony. It told of the union of all with the\nhead of the church.\n\nThis over, all knelt while the pontiff chanted the sublime prayer,\n_Adsumus, Domine_. Solemn and subdued were the chanted _amens_ of the\nentire assembly.\n\nFour chanters next intoned the litany of the saints in the well-known\nvarying minor strains of Gregorian chant. Most impressive were the\nresponses made by the united voices of the fathers. But when, at the\nproper time, the pope rose to his feet, and, holding the cross of his\nauthority in his left hand, replaced the chanters, and raising his\nstreaming eyes to heaven, and in his own majestic and sonorous tones,\ntrembling just enough to tell how deeply his great heart was moved,\nthrice prayed our divine Lord to bless, to preserve, to consecrate\nthis council, tears flowed from many an eye. All were intensely\nmoved, and not bishops alone, but the crowds of clergy outside, and\nthousands of the laity, joined, again and again, in the response, _Te\nrogamus, audi nos_. Then, if never before, St. Peter's was filled\nwith the mighty volume of sound. Back it came to us from arch and\nchapel, from aisle and lofty nave and transept, _Te rogamus, audi\nnos_. We seemed to hear it murmured even from the aerial dome, as if\nthe angels repeated the words as they bore the petition to heaven,\n_Te rogamus, audi nos_.\n\nThe chanters resumed, the litany was terminated, and the pope recited\nthe prayers that follow it. Cardinal Borromeo then, acting as deacon,\nchanted the Gospel taken from Luke x., narrating the mission of\nthe disciples. He used the volume that had been enthroned on the\naltar. When he concluded, the volume was carried back as before, and\nreverently replaced on the throne. The assembly were seated, and\nthe Holy Father, himself seated and wearing his mitre, delivered a\ndiscourse or allocution full, as all his discourses are, of unction,\nand replete with the thoughts and words of divine inspiration.\n\nAt the conclusion of this discourse all knelt, and the Holy Father\nagain intoned the _Veni Creator Spiritus_. The choir took it up, and\nthe members of the council responded in the alternate strophes. The\npope sang the versicles and prayer that follow it, and all again were\nseated.\n\nThe secretary now mounted the pulpit and read aloud the first\nproposed decree, \"That this Holy Vatican Council be, and is now\nopened.\" The fathers all answered, _Placet_; the pope gave his\nsanction; the formal decree was passed and proclaimed, and the\nnotaries instructed to make an official record of it.\n\nA second decree was similarly proposed, voted, and sanctioned, fixing\nthe second public session for the festival of the Epiphany, January\n6th, 1870. The first general congregation was announced for Friday,\nDecember 10th, in the same hall of the council.\n\nThis closed the proceedings of the first public session, which\nnecessarily were purely formal. The Holy Father arose and intoned the\nsolemn _Te Deum_ of thanksgiving. The choir--the unrivalled one of\nthe Sixtine chapel--took up the strain, intertwining the melody with\nsubdued but artistic harmonies. The assembled bishops, the clergy\nwithout, thousands of the laity, familiar from childhood with the\nvarying strains of its Gregorian chant, responded with one accord,\nin the second verse of the grand old Ambrosian hymn. The choir sang\nthe third verse as before, the crowd responded with the fourth, and\nso on they alternated to the end. It is impossible to tell in words\nthe thrilling power of such a union of voices. It moved, overcame,\nsubdued one. It was impossible to resist it if you would. Tears came\nunbidden to the eye, and the lip quivered as you instinctively united\nyour voice to that of the multitude. No one sought to make himself\nheard, all united in those subdued, thrilling tones in which the\nheart speaks. Catholic and Protestant all felt it. Even the infidel\nfor the time believed, and, bowing his head, joined in this praise\nand thanksgiving to God.\n\nAt half-past two, the _Te Deum_ was finished, and the services\nclosed. The Holy Father unrobed, and withdrew with his attendants.\nBut it was past three ere all the bishops could issue from the hall\nand leave the church. The crowds looked on as they slowly departed,\ntheir own numbers long remaining seemingly undiminished. Many could\nnot tear themselves away from the hallowed spot. The shades of\nevening found hundreds still lingering there, contemplating the place\nwhere they had seen the hierarchy of the church gathered around the\nchief pastor, or kneeling in prayer at the tomb of the great apostle\nto whom our Lord said, \"On this rock I will build my church.\"\n\nSince the day of the opening session, two general congregations have\nbeen held. The chief work has been to organize and elect members\nfor the various committees. Where all are desirous of having the\nbest men on these committees, the bishops seem to consider it well\nto proceed slowly, until they gain an acquaintance with each other,\nwhich will enable them to act with greater knowledge. Meanwhile\nthey are evidently studying up the matters before them. What those\nsubjects are, no one outside their body appears as yet to know. They\nare remarkably reticent, and so far have not been \"interviewed\" by\nnewspaper reporters.\n\nIt is thought the council must last several months. But at the\npresent stage not even the prelates themselves can form more than\na vague conjecture on this head. It may be that a month will throw\nlight on the subject. In that case, we may be able to speak more\ndefinitely in our next article on the council.\n\nROME, Dec. 15, 1869.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[170] An example has just come under our notice. The special\ncorrespondent of the _London Times_, writing from Rome on the 8th\nof December, has a long story of a mysterious bull prepared to be\npromulgated on the 8th, in the grand ceremony, and secretly confided\nonly to a trusty few. Somehow, within twenty-four hours of the time\nappointed, that is, on the 7th of December, some bishops got wind\nof it beforehand, and so great a storm of opposition arose that the\nbull was kept back, perhaps suppressed. The writer actually got sight\nof a copy, and makes an extract. This was taking a little too much\nrope. For the extract is from this apostolic letter, which was dated\nNovember 27th, was soon after printed, was distributed on December\n2d, to all the bishops then in Rome--further copies of which were\ncarefully supplied to the bishops arriving later; and which is in\nfull force, regulating the procedure of the council, not only without\na murmur, but to the perfect satisfaction of all the prelates. A\n\"special correspondent\" of the _Times_, who had retired from business\nafter years of service, defined the chief qualification of such a\ncorrespondent to be, the ability to write frankly and boldly about\npersons and things as if he knew every thing about them, even though,\nas was generally the case, he knew nothing at all. For doing this\n_acceptably_, he would get \u00a3600 a year, and travelling expenses paid.\n\n\n\n\nFOREIGN LITERARY NOTES.\n\n\nThe renowned Captain Dugald Dalgetty, that redoubtable man of war,\northodoxy, and _provant_, firmly held and was known occasionally to\nexpress the opinion that Gustavus Adolphus, King of Sweden, was the\nLion of the North and the _bulwark of Protestantism_. In so far as\nthe 'bulwark' was concerned, that clever soldado merely reflected\nthe estimate of the Swedish hero held by the contemporary Protestant\nworld--an estimate still clung to by the same world of the nineteenth\ncentury. That opinion and that estimate have lately received fatal\ninjury in the house of their friends. For thus has it come about.\nCatholic historians have never hesitated to state that the facts bore\nthem out in claiming that the governing motive of Gustavus Adolphus\nin taking the important part he did in the Thirty Years' War, was\nnot religious enthusiasm, nor even a religious motive; but on the\ncontrary one that was far from possessing any greater elevation\nthan self-interest and political advantage. So thought and wrote\nHurter and other Catholic authors. Of course these authors were not\nlistened to in the Protestant world any more than were vindications\nof Mary, Queen of Scots, until they began to come from Protestant\npens. But in the course of a few succeeding years no less than\nfour distinguished Protestant historians--Klopp, Barthold, Leo, and\nGfr\u00f6rer, (who afterward became a Catholic,) fully confirmed all\nthat Hurter had advanced. And now, within the past three months\nwe have a new historical work on Gustavus Adolphus, from the pen\nof another Protestant--Professor G. Droysen--an eminent name in\nGerman literature--which certainly appears to place the question of\nmotive on the part of the king of Sweden beyond further controversy.\nProfessor Droysen's work is written not so much as a biography as\nwith special reference to the political necessities and ambition\nof the Swedish king when he interfered in the German struggle, and\nis written, also, mainly with materials from the Swedish archives.\nThe result of Professor Droysen's research is not only to more than\nconfirm the position assumed by Hurter, but to leave no room for\nserious discussion. Professor Droysen expressly denies that the\ninterference of Gustavus Adolphus in the affairs of Germany was in\nfavor of the liberty of conscience and religion, and he quite as\nexplicitly asserts that motives purely political decided and even\nforced him to put forward those pretexts.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_Aux Incr\u00e9dules et aux Croyants. L'Ath\u00e9e redevenu Chr\u00e9tien. Ouvrage\nposthume de M. Delauro Dubez, Conseiller \u00e0 la Cour de Montpellier._\nParis, 1869. The author was judge of the court of appeals at\nMontpellier, and until his sixty-fourth year lived an irreligious\nlife. His conversion was the result of reflection, and he wrote this\nbook solely for the sake of one of his relatives who had refused to\nread any thing favorable to Christianity. The work is preceded by an\nopinion of Rev. M. Foulquier, Superior of the Seminary of Rodez, and\nby a letter from a Polish officer brought back to the Catholic faith\nby its perusal.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nA late number of the _Theologisches Literaturblatt_, published at\nBonn, contains an excellent review by Professor Aberle of T\u00fcbingen\nof a remarkable work on the year of our Saviour's birth--_Das\nGeburtsjahr Christi. Geschichtlich-Chronologische Untersuchungen\nvon A. M. Zumpt._ The same number also has an admirable notice,\nby Professor Hefele, of Kampschulte's new work on Calvin, _Johann\nCalvin. Seine Kirche und sein Staat in Genf._\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_San Tommaso, Aristotele, e Dante, ovvexo della prima filosofia\nItaliana._ Firenze, 1869. In 4to. The Marquis Palermo in this work\nshows philosophy and science traversing the middle ages under\nthe protection of the clergy, and particularly of St. Thomas.\nHe specially dwells upon the purely Christian character of the\nphilosophy set forth by Dante in his divine comedy.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_Le Monde et l'Homme Primitif selon la Bible, par Monseigneur\nMeignan, Ev\u00eaque de Chalons sur Marne._ The right reverend author\nexpresses the opinion that, in our day, one of the causes of the\nweakening of faith in divine revelation is certainly the false\nidea formed of the Bible in connection with the sciences. In this\nrespect times have greatly changed, and opinion has passed from one\nextreme to the other. Formerly, no important discovery was made\nwithout seeking to confirm its truth by Scripture testimony. The\nsupport of a text, of a word, was then necessary, even if they had\nto be slightly wrested from their received acceptation. Galileo\nundertook to prove his theory by Bible texts badly interpreted. But\nthe contrary course now prevails to such an extent that there exists\nalmost an affectation of contradicting the Scriptures. The author\ntakes up the six days of the Mosaic account of the creation, the six\ndays being six indeterminate periods of time--illustrating each day\nwith modern scientific views of the unity of the human race, the\nprimitive unity of language, Chaldean and Egyptian chronology, etc.\nOn the unity of the human race the right reverend author insists with\nsome emphasis--as indeed he well may, recognizing in it, as we all\nmust, the well-established doctrine of the Catholic Church--and takes\noccasion to address himself specially to Americans of the United\nStates on the subject of the man of dusky hue. \"Let us not forget,\"\nhe says, \"that he is a child of the same God, a descendant of Adam,\nhaving the same faculties, the same soul, the same heart; that the\nunity of the human species has made him our equal, and the Gospel our\nbrother.\" The work evidences great research and learning, especially\non the subject of the primitive unity of language, where the author\nshows entire familiarity with all the results of modern treatise and\ninvestigation from Bopp down to Ewald and Delitsch.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWe are aware that Bohemian and Hungarian literature has but few\nattractions for the very great majority of readers in the United\nStates. Nevertheless, it may not be uninteresting to note that in\nBohemia, as in Hungary, there exists a general awakening of interest\nin their respective national literatures. In both these countries\nmany talented authors are coming into notice, who confine their\nliterary labors to their mother tongue. Palacky in Bohemia has lately\nwon high praise as a historian, even in Germany and France. Besides\nhis _History of Bohemia_, he has lately written several works on the\nhistorical period of John Huss.\n\nOf these the most important is Palacky's _Documenta mag. Joannis Hus\nvitam, doctrinam, causam spectantia_. Divided into four parts, the\nfirst includes all the letters of Huss in Latin and in Tcheck, the\nlatter accompanied by a Latin translation by Professor Kviezala;\nthe second part gives the trial of Huss; the third, an account of\nhis trial and death by a contemporary, Peter Mladenowicz; and the\nfourth, the largest, all the documents relative to the religious\ncontroversies of Bohemia from 1403 to 1418. In all cases the Tcheck\ndocuments are accompanied by Latin translations. While on the subject\nof Bohemian literature, it may be well to mention that the best\ngeneral work upon it is that of M. Hanusch,[171] late librarian of\nthe University of Prague. For the bibliography of the literature,\nthe most complete work is that of Jungmann, written in Tcheck.\nFor literature proper, the best is perhaps that of Sabina, which,\nhowever, only comes down to the seventeenth century. Sabina's work\nmay be said to be completed by that of M. Sembera--_Histoire de la\nlangue et de la litt\u00e9rature Tcheque_, the third edition of which is\nlately published at Vienna.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[171] _Quellenkunde und Bibliographie der boehmische-slavonischen\nLiteratur-Geschichte._\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nOn the subject of baptism, or baptismal water, Dr. Heino\nPfaffenschmid publishes a work[172] in which he undertakes to show\nthat baptism was a custom of both Jewish and pagan rites before the\nintroduction of Christianity.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[172] _Das Weihwasser im heidnischen und christlichen Cultus_, etc.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWe see announced a work by Dr. J. H. Tomassen on the age of the\nhuman race, _Enth\u00fcllungen aus der Urgeschichte; oder, Existirt\ndas Menschengeschlecht nur 6000 Jahre?_ There is a slight dash of\ncharlatanism in the title, calculated to make one suspicious of the\nbook.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nProfessor D\u00f6llinger, of Munich, has in press a new work, entitled,\n_The Religious Sects of the Middle Ages_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe _Chronology of the Roman Pontiffs during the last three\nCenturies_, by Professor Lipsius, of Kiel, is announced as nearly\nready for publication.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nVolumes xiii. xiv. and xv. of the reprint of the continuation of the\n_Histoire Litt\u00e9raire de France_, commenced by the Benedictines, are\nlately published by Palm\u00e9, Paris.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe following important works are announced as soon to appear: Volume\nxviii. of the reprint of the _Annales Ecclesiastici_ of Cardinal\nBaronius, issued under the direction of Father Theiner. The first\nvolume of a magnificent edition of the Bible, printed at Rome, at\nthe expense of the Propaganda. This edition reproduces textually,\nwith a _fac-simile_, the famous _Codex Vaticanus_. The present volume\ncontains the Pentateuch and the Book of Joshua. The fifth volume,\ncontaining the New Testament, was printed last year.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe work of Cardinal Jacobatius, entitled _De Concilio_, is also in\npress at Rome, and will be printed as an introduction to the great\nwork forming a collection of all the councils.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nA decided success in historic literature is the latest work on Calvin\nand his times,[173] by F. W. Kampschulte, professor of history at\nthe University of Bonn. The first of its three volumes has appeared,\nand meets with almost universal approbation. The author appears to\nhave spared no labor, and has brought to light fresh and valuable\nauthorities. The manuscripts, mostly for the first time used, far\nout-number the printed works referred to. Heretofore, the archives\nof Geneva have been considered sufficient to furnish material for\na life of Calvin. But Professor Kampschulte rightly judged that,\nin view of the intimate connection between Geneva and Berne during\nCalvin's life, the archives of the latter city must be rich in\ndocuments for his purpose. A similar reason induced him to visit\nStrasburg, and both places yielded largely in fresh and important\nmatter. For Calvin's correspondence, previous historians have\ncontented themselves with Beza's edition of the _Epistol\u00e6 et Responsa\nCalvini_, or with Bonnet's collection. Professor Kampschulte, with\nindefatigable research, has succeeded in gathering a large number of\nCalvin's letters, heretofore unpublished, which he found scattered\nin every direction. In this he was greatly aided by MM. Reuss,\nCunitz, and Baum, of Strasburg, who for many years past have been\nmaking a collection of the letters of Calvin for a new edition of the\n_Epistol\u00e6_ in the _Corpus Reformatorum_. With a liberality deserving\nall praise, these scholars generously placed all this valuable\nmaterial at Professor Kampschulte's disposition.\n\nDr. J. B. Abbeloos, professor at the Seminary of Mechlin, assisted\nby Canon Lamy, professor of Oriental languages at the University of\nLouvain, is preparing for publication an important historical and\nliterary monument, of which a small portion only has heretofore been\nprinted. It is the great Syriac chronicle of Bar Hebreus, Primate\nof the Oriental Jacobites. The first part of this work was edited\nin 1788 at Leipsic, by two well-known oriental scholars, Brusis\nand Kirsch. The second and third parts contain the Ecclesiastical\nHistory, and present, as to the beginnings of Christianity in the\nEast and on the history of the first four ages of the church,\na number of valuable details not elsewhere to be found. The\ndistinguished Assemanni (Oriental Bible, vol. ii. p. 312) says that\nthe ecclesiastical history of Bar Hebreus admirably sets forth the\nreligious history of the Nestorians and of the Jacobites, which is\nentirely unknown to the Greeks and Latins.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[173] _Johann Calvin. Seine Kirche und sein Staat in Genf._ Leipzig.\n8vo, 493 pp.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nEver since the period of the fatal and futile attempt of certain\nunbelieving astronomers to foist the Zodiac of Denderah upon the\nChristian scientific world, infidel and rationalistic writers have\nnever allowed an occasion to pass to seek to elevate or praise\nold pagan manners and systems of morality. The more remote their\nfield of disquisition, the more positive are they. This attempted\nrehabilitation of ancient systems most remarkable for their profound\nimmorality is thoroughly defeated by M. Fran\u00e7ois Lenormant in his\nlately published _Manuel d'histoire Ancienne de l'Orient_, 3 vols.,\n_avec un atlas de 24 cartes_. His exposition of ancient paganism\nis thorough and learned. M. Lenormant's father was a co-laborer of\nChampollion, and he has a European reputation as an oriental scholar.\nThe work here announced was, in the form of an essay, previously\ncrowned by the French Academy.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe third and last volume of _M\u00f6hler's History of the Church_, edited\nby the Rev. Father Gams, has appeared in Germany, and a French\ntranslation of the same by the Abb\u00e9 Belot at Paris. Wherever it was\npracticable, F. Gams has filled voids left by M\u00f6hler with review\narticles, written by M\u00f6hler on the same subject. M\u00f6hler has given\nspecial attention to the study of Protestantism, and is convinced\nthat the \"judgments passed on the condition of the church during\nthe century anterior to the reform itself, greatly need reforming.\"\nHe refutes with great force the erroneous opinions of men, either\nignorant of the past or willingly blind, who have attributed to\nLuther the honor of bringing the Bible to the light of day. Nothing\ncan be more false. Immense works on the Bible were produced during\nthe middle ages, and, rapidly following the discovery of printing,\nnumerous translations made their appearance. From 1460 to the first\nversion of Luther in 1521 there were printed in Germany at least\nsixteen Bibles in High German and five in Low German. Up to 1524,\nthere were nine editions in France, not counting those of Italy, the\nfirst of which appeared in 1471.\n\n\n\n\nNEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n\n     THE ROMAN INDEX AND ITS LATE PROCEEDINGS. A Second Letter, etc. By\n     E. S. Ffoulkes. American edition. Pott & Amery.\n\nAfter the publication of Mr. Ffoulkes's letter, entitled, _The\nChurch's Creed or the Crown's Creed?_ he was refused the sacraments,\nas it was perfectly plain he must be according to the certain rules\nof moral theology by which priests are guided. Archbishop Manning\nsubmitted the letter to the examination of four theologians, who,\nseparately and without mutual consultation, gave in their opinion\nthat it was heretical. The archbishop, with the greatest delicacy\nand kindness, began to treat with Mr. Ffoulkes, for the purpose\nof inducing him to make a sufficient retractation, in order that\nhe might repair the scandal he had given and be restored to the\nenjoyment of his privileges as a member of the church. On the 22d\nof March, 1869, Mr. Ffoulkes submitted the following letter to the\narchbishop:\n\n     \"Having learned from my bishop that a pamphlet, lately published\n     by me, entitled, _The Church's Creed or the Crown's Creed?_ has\n     been examined, and pronounced by him to be heretical, I desire\n     hereby to submit myself to that judgment, and to express my sorrow\n     that I should in any thing have erred from the Holy Catholic\n     and Apostolic faith. Although I trust I have not intentionally\n     erred from the truth, nor wilfully opposed myself to the divine\n     authority of the church, nevertheless I am well aware how easily I\n     may have done so. I therefore hereby, without reserve, retract all\n     and every thing that I have written, there or elsewhere, which is\n     contrary to what the church has defined as of faith.\n\n     \"Having learned also from him that scandal, offence, and pain\n     have been given by my writings, and especially by the pamphlet\n     above named, to the faithful; and that the same pamphlet has\n     been used by those who are separate from the Catholic and Roman\n     Church as an excuse or argument for not submitting to its divine\n     authority, I hereby desire to explain myself categorically on two\n     points in particular, the most likely to have caused such results\n     of any that occurred to me, from not having been brought out as\n     prominently there as they might have been, but on which it never\n     was my intention that my meaning should be ambiguous.\n\n     \"1. Whatever I may or may not have been called upon to profess\n     fourteen years ago myself, I nevertheless believe, and believe\n     heartily, in the inerrancy, _by perpetual assistance of the Holy\n     Ghost in all ages_, of the one Catholic Church in communion with\n     the pope, and of which the pope is head by divine right, '_in\n     fidei ac morum disciplin\u00e2 tradend\u00e2_,' as the Catechism of the\n     Council of Trent teaches. And 2, as regards matter of fact, my\n     own personal investigations enable me to affirm the verdict of\n     history to be, that the see of Rome, as such, has been preserved\n     in all ages from upholding or embracing heresy. _I say this more\n     particularly with reference to the doctrine of the procession\n     of the Holy Ghost, on which I fear my meaning may have been\n     misapprehended._ Therefore, negatively, should I have ever seemed\n     to say or imply that the true church has ever ceased to be one\n     _visibly_, or that the see of Rome was not constituted its centre\n     of unity upon earth, so that communion with the one should be\n     the indispensable condition of participating in the unity of\n     the other, I hereby declare my heartfelt sorrow at having, in\n     any of my writings, so expressed myself on these points as to\n     have offended any or misled any by seeming to say or imply, _in\n     language injurious to the Holy See_, what I never meant to assert,\n     and hereby repudiate.\n\n     \"And as the best reparation now in my power, I willingly undertake\n     that this explicit declaration of mine shall be printed and\n     distributed gratuitously by my publisher, and appended as a\n     fly-leaf to all copies of my pamphlet, of which the copyright is\n     not in my own hands, and other published works of mine that may\n     hereafter be sold, should it be desired. Lastly, I freely, and\n     from my heart, renew my assent to what follows, taken from the\n     profession of Pope Pius IV.: 'I acknowledge the _Holy, Catholic,\n     Apostolic, Roman Church_ for the mother and mistress of all\n     churches; and I promise true obedience to the _Bishop of Rome_,\n     successor to St. Peter, Prince of the Apostles, and Vicar of Jesus\n     Christ.'\" (Pages 37, 38.)\n\nOn the 18th of December, 1868, a work, entitled _Christendom's\nDivisions_, by the same author, had been placed on the Index, and,\non the 26th of March, the letter was placed there likewise. The\narchbishop made some further suggestions to Mr. Ffoulkes on the 2d\nof May, which he accepted, and, on the 4th, wrote to Mr. F., \"I have\nreceived with sincere pleasure the declaration as last amended, and I\ntrust it will complete what I have daily prayed may be accomplished.\"\nOn the 17th of May, Mr. F. wrote to a clergyman of the Church of\nEngland, \"_I would be excommunicated a dozen times a day sooner than\nretract my pamphlet_; and Archbishop Manning, to his credit let it\nbe said, never proposed any such thing. What he proposed, however,\nI rejected; and substituted for it a declaration of my own, _which\nis merely justificatory_.[174] This, slightly altered, he has since\naccepted; so that my part is over.\" This letter was made known by\nthe person who received it, and came to the knowledge of Archbishop\nManning, who requested Mr. F. to obtain the letter and hand it\nover to him, a request which the latter gentleman considered as\ninsulting to his \"English feelings,\" and refused. He himself writes\nto the archbishop, and to the public also, (p. 43,) \"Your grace was\napprehensive lest this loose statement of a well-known tale-bearer,\nduly reported to Rome, should give rise to your being inhibited from\naccepting my declaration. Though I thought this extremely probable,\nI contented myself with assuring your grace, by letter, that, if\nthe individual in question had reported me to have said, 'I would\nrather be excommunicated than retract, (_sic_,)'[175] he had either\nmisrepresented me wilfully, or stated what was not the fact. My\nEnglish feelings would not allow me to do more.\" The archbishop may\ncertainly be excused for not accepting this statement, since the\nAnglican clergyman had read the first paragraph of the letter to the\nperson designated, we hope unjustly, as a \"well-known busybody,\" and\nhad communicated its contents to several other persons \"in strict\nconfidence.\" The archbishop had communicated Mr. F.'s retractation or\njustification to the Congregation of the Index, and, on the 6th of\nAugust, a letter from Mgr. Nardi to the archbishop was read to Mr.\nF., in which his document was pronounced insufficient, particularly\nbecause not containing an expression of submission to the decree of\nthe sacred congregation. A general form of retractation of every\nthing which the congregation had condemned in his writings, and of\nsubmission to its judgment, was sketched out for his guidance in\npreparing a proper statement, and he was informed that when such a\ndeclaration had been sent to Rome and accepted, no public notice\nwould be taken of it except to append to the censure in the Index the\nwords, _auctor laudabiliter se subjecit_--the author has submitted in\na laudable manner. Mr. F. refused to make this submission, and was,\naccordingly, notified by the archbishop that he could not be admitted\nto the sacraments. Mr. F. also notified his grace that if any\nofficial sentence was pronounced upon him, he should appeal to the\ncivil tribunal. At the conclusion of his pamphlet he says, respecting\nthe \"arbitrary sentence of a foreign court,\" \"Please God, I shall\nlive to contribute my quota toward being the death of the system\nfrom which it proceeds.... Please God, one of two things--for which\nI shall continue to labor through life--either that Christianity and\nRome may become convertible terms, which it is my sincere wish that\nthey should be; or else that fresh halting-places for sober, ordinary\nChristians, between Rome and infidelity, maybe developed amongst us,\nand new life be vouchsafed to those which exist already.\" Finally\nsays Mr. F., in his last paragraph, \"All we of the west are lying\nunder more than one solemn anathema of more than one pope, speaking\nas head of the church--if popes have ever spoken as heads of the\nchurch--for having changed a syllable in the creed authorized by the\nFourth Council.\"\n\nThis is Mr. F.'s case. It is evident that he became a member of\nthe Catholic Church under a great misapprehension of her doctrine\nand law, and has never been any thing more than an Anglican. He\nis disposed to blame those who received him; but it is plain that\nthey had no reason for suspecting that his misconception of the\nobvious meaning of the profession he made of submission to the Roman\nChurch was so fundamental, and that he has only his own confused\nstate of mind to blame for it. He has never really believed in the\never-living, supreme, infallible authority of the church, or had any\nother principle than the Protestant one to guide him. Hence, he has\nbewildered and lost himself in a maze of historical difficulties\nwhich he is unable to understand or remove. His letters are the most\nconclusive proof possible that the bogus Catholicity of unionists is\nfit only to complicate instead of solving the controversies among\nChristians. It shows the necessity of the most explicit teaching\nof the principle of infallible authority in all its practical\napplications, and proves that it is only by fully understanding and\nsubmitting to the doctrinal supremacy of the Roman pontiff as the\nvicar of Christ we can have any sufficient and certain criterion by\nwhich to distinguish genuine from spurious Catholicity.\n\nOne other point remains to be noticed. Mr. F.'s complaint that\nthe sacred congregation violated its own rule, by failing to give\nhim notice of the errors in his writings and the opportunity of\nexplaining himself and making corrections. This is a mistake on his\npart. When erroneous statements are found in the works of a Catholic\nauthor of high repute for learning and orthodoxy, he receives this\nnotification, and, in any case, when a book is placed on the Index\nmerely on account of some particular errors, the phrase _donec\ncorrigatur_ is added. Mr. F. is not an author of high repute for\nlearning and orthodoxy. His writings are thoroughly unsound and\nmischievous. There was no occasion to cite him for a formal hearing\nor defence of himself, since the whole question was in reference to\nhis writings, which speak for themselves. The only thing necessary\nfor a judgment was an examination of his books, and that they were\nnot hastily condemned is evident from the fact that the censure was\npronounced three years after they were published. M. Renan has just\nas much reason to demand a hearing as Mr. Ffoulkes.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[174] The italics are our own.--ED. C. W.\n\n[175] This _sic_ is Mr. Ffoulkes's; what it means is known only to\nhimself and heaven.--ED. C. W.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     ACROSS AMERICA AND ASIA. By Raphael Pumpelly, Professor in Harvard\n     University, and sometime Mining Engineer in the service of the\n     Chinese and Japanese Governments. New York: Leypoldt & Holt. 1870.\n\nMr. Pumpelly has given in this volume an account, some parts of\nwhich are interesting even to fascination, of a five years' journey\nround the world, by way of Arizona, California, Japan, China,\nTartary, and Siberia, whence he returned across Europe and the\nAtlantic to New York. His accounts of what fell immediately under\nhis own observation during his travels are no doubt accurate, and\ngive an excellent idea of the natural features of the regions and\npeople through which he passed--particularly of the former; for the\nauthor's profession and tastes made him observe nature closely,\nand detect and describe things which an ordinary traveller would\nhave left unnoticed. His description of the plateau of Central Asia\nis specially striking and valuable, and the strictly scientific\ninformation contained in this as in the other parts of his work\nimportant; but he has, of course, treated purely professional\nsubjects more fully elsewhere.\n\nThe work is interspersed with historical sketches and political\nessays, some of which perhaps are not without value; but the\negregious blunders made in the account of the expulsion of\nChristianity from Japan, on page 97, would lead one to suspect\nthat the author has not always been duly careful in collecting his\ninformation. He seems to profess to be a Christian, as he speaks in\none place of \"our Lord's sermon on the mount;\" but was evidently much\nimpressed by what he saw of Buddhism, from the practices of which he\nwisely says that \"western ritualism, and much of the superstition on\nwhich it is based,\" (p. 166,) is derived. The same idea is brought in\non page 383. Other forms of heathenism also impressed him favorably,\nand he thinks well of the Mohammedans, judging from what he says of\nthose at Kazan; but this admiration for, and fascination by every\nthing except the truth is not unusual among men without faith.\n\nHe could not, of course, avoid noticing the failure of Protestant\nmissions, whose converts he regards as hypocrites, influenced solely\nby the hope of soup, and frequently shows an appreciation of the\ngenius, devotedness, and success of Catholic missionaries.\n\nThe author appears to be a man of undaunted courage, great humanity,\nand a high sense of both honor and morality. His exposure of the\nvillainous conduct of white men toward the Indians in our own\ncountry, and the dark races of Asia, deserves our cordial thanks. His\nremarks on the question of the effect of Sclavonian advancement in\nthe old world and Chinese immigration in the new, on the destinies of\nthe coming age, are fitted to awaken many deep and anxious thoughts.\nThe chapter on Japanese art by Mr. John La Farge is worthy of that\naccomplished artist. On the whole, with the exceptions above noted,\nthis is one of the best books which has appeared from the American\npress.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE POPE AND THE COUNCIL. By Janus. Authorized translation from\n     the German. Boston: Roberts Brothers. 1870.\n\nThis is not a book which can be reviewed as to its contents in a\ncritical notice, or in any thing less than a volume. It goes over the\nentire field of the relation of the papacy to the church, considered\nhistorically, and is a work of some show of learning. We cannot,\ntherefore, touch on the question of its intrinsic truth or falsity at\npresent, but simply on the point of its orthodoxy, as judged by the\ncriterion according to which doctrine is to be judged by the canons\nactually making the law of the Catholic Church at the present moment.\nAccording to this criterion, it is heretical, and therefore to be\nrejected by every Catholic, as much as Dr. Pusey's _Eirenicon_, or\nGuett\u00e9e's _Papacy Schismatic_. The review of this last-named book in\nTHE CATHOLIC WORLD for July and August, 1867, written by one of the\nablest of our contributors, will furnish _ad interim_ a sufficient\nrefutation of the anti-Catholic principles on which it rests. We\ncite a few passages in proof of the statement we have made. In the\npreface it is stated that the book is \"a protest, based on history,\nagainst a menacing future, against the programme of a powerful\ncoalition.\" This \"programme\" means the whole preparatory work of\nthe body of theologians summoned to Rome by the pope to prepare\nfor the council. Again, that \"a great and searching reformation\nof the church is necessary and inevitable.\" Speaking of those who\nfollow the teaching of the supreme pontiff in all things as their\nauthoritative rule, the authors say, \"While in outward communion with\nthem, we are inwardly separated by a great gulf from those,\" etc.\n\"The papacy, such as it has become, presents the appearance of a\ndisfiguring, sickly, and choking excrescence on the organization of\nthe church, hindering and decomposing the action of its vital powers,\nand bringing manifold diseases in its train.\" They say that there has\nbeen a development \"of the primacy into the papacy, a transformation\nmore than a development, the consequences of which have been the\nsplitting up of the previously united church into three great\necclesiastical bodies, divided and at enmity with each other.\" These\nextracts prove the attitude of open rebellion against the pontifical\nauthority assumed by the authors. The following shows their utter\ndefiance of the authority of the Council of the Vatican:\n\n     \"An oecumenical assembly of the church can have no existence,\n     properly speaking, in presence of an _ordinarius ordinariorum_\n     (equivalent to bishop of bishops) and infallible teacher of\n     faith.... Bishops who have been obliged to swear 'to maintain,\n     defend, increase, and advance the rights, honors, privileges, and\n     authority of their lord the pope'--and every bishop takes this\n     oath--cannot regard themselves, or be regarded by the Christian\n     world, as free members of a free council; natural justice and\n     equity require that. These men neither will nor can be held\n     responsible for decisions or omissions which do not depend on them.\n\n     \"With abundant reason were the two demands urged throughout half\n     Europe in the sixteenth century, in the negotiations about the\n     council--first, that it should not be held in Rome, or even in\n     Italy; and, secondly, that the bishops should be absolved from\n     their oath of obedience. The recently proclaimed council is to be\n     held not only in Italy, but in Rome itself; and already has it\n     been announced that, as the sixth Lateran council, it will adhere\n     faithfully to the fifth. That is quite enough--it means this,\n     that whatever course the synod may take, one quality can never be\n     predicated of it, namely, that it has been a really free council.\n     Theologians and canonists declare that without complete freedom\n     the decisions of a council are not binding, and the assembly is\n     only a pseudo-synod. Its decrees may have to be corrected.\" (Pp.\n     343-345.)\n\nSuch is the harsh, dissonant cry of discord which interrupts the\nharmonious accord of voices from all the world, rising in responsive\nwelcome to the call of the vicar of Christ, summoning together the\nwhole church around the tomb of the apostles. Naturally, it gives\ngreat delight to the enemies of the church, who see no hope for their\ncause except in dissension among her own rulers and members, and who\nwelcome these faithless Catholics, applaud them, and disseminate\ntheir writings, as allies of their own within our camp. Their\nrejoicing, however, is premature. The number banded together in this\nclique is extremely small. Neither Mgr. Maret, Mgr. Dupanloup, or the\nso-called Liberal Catholics, represented by _Le Correspondant_, hold\nthe extreme opinions of _Janus_, which has been placed on the Index\nin company with Mr. Ffoulkes's productions. Gallicans and liberals\nacknowledge the supreme authority of the Council of the Vatican, and\nwill readily give up any private opinions which may be condemned by\nits judgment. Although the disciples of Bossuet's school maintain\nthat the papal decretals do not become irreformible until they have\nreceived the at least tacit assent of the bishops, yet they admit\ntheir binding and obligatory force over all the faithful and over\neach bishop, taken singly, as soon as legally promulgated. All the\npontifical decretals which are proposed as dogmatic judgments by the\nRoman Church have received at least the tacit assent of the bishops,\nand are, therefore, now irreformible, even by a council, on Gallican\nprinciples.\n\n_Janus_ is in open rebellion against the authority of these\ndecretals, and against the Council of the Vatican itself. The persons\nconcerned in its publication, and all ecclesiastics who share their\nsentiments, will be interdicted from all exercise of sacerdotal\nfunctions in the church, and excluded from her communion, unless they\nretract their heresy and submit to the authority of the council,\nor else hide themselves under the cloak of anonymous secrecy. The\nonly importance which _brochures_ of this sort have, comes from the\nsupposed fact that their authors maintain a tenable position in\nthe Catholic Church. When they are cut off from her communion, as\nthey certainly will be if they prove contumacious, they mix with\nthe great mass of unbelievers, and are of no account. We have had a\nsuccession of these traitors, from Judas to Gavazzi, and it is quite\nprobable that the Council of the Vatican will prove the occasion\nof a certain number of apostasies. The departure from her outward\ncommunion of those who have already lost the faith is, however, an\nadvantage rather than an injury to the church, and the places of\nthese deserters will be better filled by the new converts who will be\ngained.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     LIFE OF DANIEL WEBSTER. By George Ticknor Curtis, one of his\n     literary executors. Volume I. New York: D. Appleton & Co., 90, 92,\n     and 94 Grand street. 1870.\n\nAmong the numerous regrets caused by the death of Edward Everett,\nmany felt a disappointment because he had not added to our literature\nand to his own memoir of Mr. Webster a complete biography of that\ndistinguished statesman. As far as we can judge from the present\nvolume of Mr. Curtis's work, there is little cause, however, to\nregret that the task of writing it should have devolved on him. Its\ntypography and paper deserve special praise; while the elegant yet\nmodest appearance of the book is in harmony with the dignity of its\nsubject, the style of the author, and the taste of that portion of\nthe community who will constitute its most attentive readers.\n\nThe story of Mr. Webster's rustic boyhood, of the fireside legends\nof Indian and British warfare, whence he drew the patriotism of his\nriper years, the history of his struggle with poverty, and of the\nwarm ties which bound him to his elder brother, are all told in a\nvividly interesting manner, and will recall similar scenes to the\nmind of many a reader. The successful career at school and college\nof the poorly-clad, sensitive lad, developing gradually into his\nsplendid manhood and growing daily in the esteem of all is also\ngraphically portrayed. In his habits of toil and deep study we\nsee the foundations of that solidity of character, that grasp of\nintellect, which gave to his eloquence its commanding force, and\nto many of his forensic efforts their present character of legal\nauthority.\n\nThe rising generation will admire the record of Mr. Webster's\nentrance into public life, and the independence, integrity, and\nloyalty which marked his course therein. From his youth he seemed to\nknow of no other policy than right. Though party lines are nowadays\nmore sharply defined than in his time, we think this broad and true\nAmerican spirit is still the surest guide to lasting political\ninfluence. And the young politician who will place patriotism and\ndevotion to principle before private ambition will secure the highest\ntriumph for both, and need never fear the lash of party despotism.\n\nIn the present state of political affairs, which proves in so many\nways and on so many points the correctness of Mr. Webster's views,\nand the deep, far-seeing genius of his statesmanship, we heartily\napprove the moderation and historical calmness with which Mr. Curtis\nrecords the exciting scenes of the \"nullification\" and \"expunging\"\ntimes, and also Mr. Webster's views on the hushing up of discussion\non the abolition petitions of '36 and '37.\n\nWe have evidences, in portions of his correspondence brought into the\nwork, of the true place which Mr. Webster assigned to principles,\nand of his contempt for openly immoral men. Writing to Mr. Ticknor\nin 1830, he says of a certain eminent literary character, whose sins\nhave not been left to disappear with his ashes:\n\n     \"Many excellent reasons are given for his being a bad husband,\n     the sum of which is that he was a very bad man. I confess, I\n     was rejoiced then, I am rejoiced now, that he was driven out of\n     England by public scorn; for his vices were not in his passions,\n     but in his principles.\"\n\nOn the whole, there are few biographies of public men more healthful\nto the moral system of the reader than that of Mr. Webster. We see\nhis acknowledgment of true principles, and if in his private life he\nat any time afterward lost sight of them, this weakness has not the\nsanction of his genius, but stands condemned by it.\n\nAs an orator, his natural powers rank him with Demosthenes, with\nChatham, with O'Connell. The legal profession will look upon him as\none of its lights and ornaments. And all who love America will honor\nin him one whose heart beat in unison with the mighty pulse of this\nnation. We venture to hope that the rest of the work will equal the\npresent volume, and that it will be read by every intelligent young\nman in the United States.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     MISSALE ROMANUM. Tours Edition. Royal quarto. 1869. New York and\n     Cincinnati: Benziger Bros.\n\nThis is a very fine edition of the Roman Missal. It is carefully\nbound in morocco, tastefully ornamented, and opens easily. The page\nis pleasant to the eye, the type being large and clear, and the\npaper very good. All the recent masses will be found at their proper\nplaces in this edition, which is in itself both a convenience and\nrecommendation. At the commencement of the canon there is a very good\nsteel-plate engraving of the Crucifixion. We recommend this missal to\nthe notice of the reverend clergy and members of altar societies.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE HISTORY OF ROME. By Theodor Mommsen. Translated by the Rev.\n     W. P. Dickson, D.D. With a preface by Dr. Leonhard Schmitz. New\n     edition, in four volumes. Vol. I. New York: Charles Scribner & Co.\n     1870.\n\nThis is a philosophical history. It is difficult to do justice to\nthe depth and accuracy of the erudition it displays. The style is\nalso singularly happy--especially for a translation. We accept the\nauthor's facts, but not all his theories. Some of the latter would\naccount for certain religious beliefs and practices by ignoring,\non the one hand, primitive tradition, and attributing, on the\nother, to peoples but just emerging from barbarism the sublimest\npoesy and the keenest wisdom. Rationalism will never succeed in\naccounting for what was true in the religions of Greece and Rome,\nany more than for Christianity. The great philosophical historian\nof our age is Professor Leo, of Halle, whose account of Rome is\nespecially admirable. Those who read German will probably find in\nLeo and Mommsen, together with Niebuhr, all they need to know of\nthe principles, constitution, origin, and historical development of\npagan Rome. For a correct and condensed narrative of events, Cantu's\n_Universal History_ is the best.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     WOMEN'S SUFFRAGE: A REFORM AGAINST NATURE. By Horace Bushnell. New\n     York: Scribner & Co. 1869. 12mo, pp. 184.\n\nWe agree with Dr. Bushnell, as our readers are aware, in opposing\nfemale suffrage and eligibility as repugnant to the law of God, the\nnatural relations of the sexes, and the interests of the family,\nof society, and indeed of woman herself; but in the course of his\nessay he uses so many weak arguments, and concedes so much to the\nwomen's rights folks, that his conclusions, though just, are not well\nsustained, and are not likely to carry conviction to the minds of\nthose women who aspire to be men. We do not believe the lot of woman\nin society as it is can be truly said to be harder than that of men.\nThe curse of our age is its femineity, its want of manliness, its\nsentimentalism, and its pruriency; and it could only be aggravated\nby female suffrage and eligibility. \"The reigns of queens,\" said a\nqueen of France to a duchess of Burgundy, \"are conceded to be more\nsuccessful than those of kings.\" \"True,\" responded the duchess; \"but\nit is because queens follow the counsel of men, and kings the counsel\nof women.\" The age, or what is called the age, needs reforming, we\ngrant; for it has been formed by Protestantism, which is simply in\nprinciple a resuscitation of gentilism; but not more for woman than\nfor man, and reformed it cannot be without faith in the doctrine and\nobedience to the commands of the church of God.\n\nThe modern economical and industrial system, which enriches the\nfew at the expense of the many, and which is boasted as the grand\nachievement of modern progress, is the source of most of the\nevils which our political and social reformers seek to redress.\nThis system, which sees in man only an instrument of producing,\ndistributing, and consuming the material goods of this life, and\ntakes no account of the divine sovereignty, or of man's moral and\nspiritual wants, we are quite willing to concede is a natural product\nof the Reformation. It creates wants beyond its power to satisfy,\ntastes and habits of life which demand for their gratification great\nwealth, and great wealth can be the lot of only the few. It creates a\nlarge class of men and women, especially of women, for whom it does\nand can make no provision, and who suffer just in proportion to their\ncultivated and refined habits and tastes. The system is in fault, is\nbased on the false principle that the more wants you can stimulate\nor develop in a man or a woman the better. Hence, it creates a large\nclass who are ill at ease, misplaced, discontented, and maddened by\nwants that they cannot satisfy, and prepared to be not reformers, but\nrevolutionists.\n\nThere is no way of curing the evil, which was as great in ancient\nGreece and Rome as it is in modern Britain or America, but by\nreturning to the Christian principle of self-denial, and following\nthe admonition of our Lord, \"Seek first the kingdom of God and his\njustice, and all things shall be added unto you.\" Would you make a\nman happy, study not to increase his possessions, but to diminish\nhis desires. While material riches are held up as the supreme good,\nand poverty is treated as a disgrace, if not as a crime, there is no\nremedy for individual, domestic, or social evils, as the history of\nall heathen nations amply proves. Let the poor be held in honor as\nour Lord and his church held them, let voluntary poverty for Christ's\nsake be counted highly meritorious, and the evils our radicals feel,\nand our women's rights people complain of, will soon disappear, and\nwoman will find her proper place, and man his. No political or social\nrevolution is needed; none will do any good; all that is needed is\nto substitute the Christian economy for the pagan that now governs\nmodern society.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     NIDWORTH AND HIS THREE MAGIC WANDS. By E. Prentiss. Boston:\n     Roberts Bros.\n\nA beautiful allegorical story, the moral of which is that riches\nand knowledge are worthless if not accompanied by the love of your\nneighbor. Brotherly love is the great lesson of this little volume,\nwithout which no one can be happy, and with which every one may be\nhappy, even though one's home be only a cabin. It is the best book\nof the kind we have read in a long time, and should be placed in the\nhands of the ambitious youth of our country, whose God seems to be\nriches and unlimited power.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     BIBLE ANIMALS: Being a Description of every living Creature\n     mentioned in the Scriptures, from the Ape to the Coral. By the\n     Rev. J. G. Wood, M.A., F.L.S., etc. New York: Charles Scribner &\n     Co. 1870. Pp. 652.\n\nThis book merits unqualified praise. It is so complete that it will\nprobably become the standard authority upon this branch of biblical\nliterature. Indeed, it appears almost to exhaust the subject; so\nthat, although the work was written more especially to aid biblical\nstudents, yet the scientific exactness of Mr. Wood's explanations\nand descriptions will make the volume extremely valuable to all who\nare interested in natural history. The identification of the animals\nand birds mentioned in Leviticus and Deuteronomy is particularly\nuseful. Many of the words used in the ordinary translations do not\nreally designate the creatures that are intended. Mr. Wood seems to\nhave brought good sense and great fairness to this difficult portion\nof his task. Where he is unable to decide with probability, he is\nnot ashamed to say that he \"is lost in uncertainty, and at the best\ncan only offer conjectures.\" But this uncertainty refers principally\nto the smaller and less conspicuous species. The larger animals\nand birds are nearly all identified with tolerable certainty. The\nillustrations of the volume are numerous and finely executed. They\nare mostly taken from living animals, while the accessory details\nhave been obtained from Egyptian and Assyrian monuments, and from the\nphotographs and drawings of modern travellers. In every respect the\nbook offers a rich and varied treat to those who feel an interest in\nknowing something of the land and the people which our divine Saviour\nchose for his own.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     ART THOUGHTS: The Experiences and Observations of an American\n     Amateur in Europe. By James Jackson Jarves. 12mo, pp. 379. New\n     York: Hurd & Houghton.\n\nMr. Jarves is one of the few American writers on art whose works\nare worth reading and preserving. He has devoted to the subject the\nstudy and travel of many years, and has gathered one of the finest\ncollections of genuine masters ever brought to this country. To a\ncertain extent, his verdict upon painting and sculpture is entitled\nto the greatest weight; for it is founded upon intelligent study\nand a natural artistic appreciation. For the antique and the modern\nschools we may cheerfully accept him as a guide; but in the great\nrealm of Christian art, which lies glorious and beautiful between\nthese two extremes, he is but a blind leader of the blind--a pagan\nof the nineteenth century, unable to comprehend true religious\ninspiration, or to feel the artistic value of religious symbolism;\nand for whom much of the sublimity of the _Renaissance_, as well\nas the ruder but sincere and often eloquent art of the earlier\nChristian period, is therefore covered with an impenetrable veil. It\nis one of the canons of Mr. Jarves's criticism that every species of\nasceticism, either in life or in art, is a violation of nature and of\ntruth. That is false art, therefore, which deals with representations\nof physical suffering, and the Apollo is a nobler subject than the\ncrucified Saviour. What a wealth of spiritual beauty is shut out by\nthis sensual conception, we need not stop to say. It is no wonder\nthat, with such views, Mr. Jarves, while he admires the enraptured\nsaints of Fra Angelico, cannot feel the divine pathos and sublimity\nof Michael Angelo's \"Pieta.\" It is no wonder that he believes that\n\"every religion in the form of a creed restricts and narrows art;\"\nthat he hates the Roman Church for its inculcation of the virtue of\nself-mortification; denounces our worship as rank idolatry of the\nmost degrading kind; and can hardly speak with decent moderation his\ncontempt for the crucifix and his detestation of the uncomfortable\ndoctrine of eternal punishment. To Catholics, indeed, almost every\npage of his book conveys offence, and the blasphemy of some passages\nis too horrible for quotation.\n\nThe book is manufactured with due regard to magnificence of exterior,\nand many typographical niceties appropriate to a work on the fine\narts. There is so much care, in fact, evident in its print and\nbinding that we have a right to complain of there not being a little\nmore, and especially to protest against the constant disfigurement\nof proper names--partly through the fault of the author, and partly\nthrough insufficient proof-reading. \"Giusti,\" for instance, is\nprinted \"Guisti,\" \"Giuliano\" appears as \"Guliano\" and \"Giulano,\"\nnever, we believe, in its proper form. We have also \"Guliana,\" and\n\"Lucca\" _della Robbia_ uniformly, instead of \"Luca.\" St. Simeon\nStylites is called sometimes \"St. Stylus,\" (which is nonsense,) and\nsometimes \"St. Simone;\" and sometimes, we may add, \"that filthy\nfanatic.\" The union of Italian forms of common Christian names, like\nSimone and Francesco, with the English prefix \"St.,\" is another\ncommon fault. For the words \"King Ca_u_daules,\" \"So_u_briquet,\" and\n\"_Casa_\" as the Italian for \"thing,\" we must hold the proof-readers\nalone to blame.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     AMONG THE TREES: A Journal of Walks in the Woods, and\n     Flower-Hunting through Field and by Brook. By Mary Lorimer. Sq.\n     8vo, pp. 153. New York: Hurd & Houghton.\n\nThis is a pleasant, readable, feminine sort of book, written by an\nardent and intelligent lover of nature, and quite equal to inspiring\nalmost any body with more or less enthusiasm for the pursuit to\nwhich it is devoted. The writer catalogues minutely the botanical\ncharms of all the different seasons--midwinter as well as the depth\nof summer; describes the flowers of each month, and tells where to\nlook for them; and gives practical instructions for making miniature\nconservatories of wild flowers, and doing various other pretty things\nsuch as young ladies delight in. The book is written for the latitude\nof New York. Excellent wood-cuts accompany the text, and the paper\nand binding are suitable for the holiday season.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     CHRIST AND THE CHURCH. Lectures delivered during Advent, by\n     the Rev. Thomas S. Preston. New York: The Catholic Publication\n     Society, 126 Nassau Street. 1870.\n\nThis volume is by far the most original and the best in every\nrespect of several excellent volumes by the reverend author. The\nstyle and method of treating the subject remind us of Archbishop\nManning. The discourses here published were preached to overflowing\ncongregations, on the Sunday evenings during the last Advent. They\ndevelop a most important and interesting line of argument, not\nfrequently handled, but likely to be most useful to the best class\nof Protestants. They are intended to show how those doctrines of\nthe church and sacraments which are distinctively Catholic flow\nnecessarily from the doctrines of original justice, the fall, the\nincarnation and redemption. They address, therefore, directly, and in\nthe most conclusive manner, those Protestants who are called orthodox\nor evangelical, in common parlance. They cannot be too strongly\nrecommended to those persons who believe in the true divinity of\nJesus Christ and seek to know his doctrine and law. Pious Catholics,\nalso, will derive great instruction and edification from this volume.\nIt is published in the neatest and most attractive form, and is\nespecially to be welcomed at a moment when so much glittering but\ncounterfeit coin is in circulation.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     SADLIER'S CATHOLIC DIRECTORY, ALMANAC, AND ORDO, for the year of\n     our Lord, 1870. New York: D. & J. Sadlier & Co. 1870.\n\nWe are pleased to see that our suggestion of last year, with regard\nto the binding of the _Almanac_, has been acted upon this year; and\nwe now have a work we can at least open without tearing it to pieces.\nWe would suggest other improvements--in the matter of better paper,\nmore margin on the page, less advertisements, and a little more\ncorrectness in names and places in next year's issue--all of which\nwould be a great improvement on the present volume, which is in some\npoints superior to former ones.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     HISTORY OF THE CHURCH IN THE EIGHTEENTH AND NINETEENTH CENTURIES.\n     By K. R. Hagenbach, D.D. Translated by the Rev. I. F. Hurst, D.D.\n     2 vols. New York: Scribner.\n\nThis author, who is a moderately orthodox Protestant, is well\nacquainted with German Protestantism, and his work will therefore\nbe useful to those who wish to study the phases of that rapidly\ndissolving view of Christianity.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE LIFE, PASSION, DEATH, AND RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD JESUS\n     CHRIST. Being an Abridged Harmony of the Four Gospels in the\n     Words of the Sacred Text. Edited by the Rev. Henry Formby. With\n     an entirely new series of engravings on wood, from designs by\n     C. Clasen, D. Nolen, and others. New York: Catholic Publication\n     Society. 1870.\n\nFr. Formby is well known as a writer of great taste and remarkable\nskill in preparing books for children and grown people who require\nreading that is easily understood. His pictorial series has long been\npopular in England, and will now be republished, with the author's\npermission, by the Catholic Publication Society. The present volume\nis the first of the series. It is a continuous narrative taken from\nall the four Gospels, according to the Rhemish version, judiciously\ncompiled according to the best harmonies, and abridged in such a\nway as to simplify without curtailing in any important respect the\nhistory. The illustrations are numerous and spirited, and, with one\nor two exceptions, are pleasing. The book is a charming one, as\nwell as one most useful and important for children. Nothing can be\nmore suitable, also, for good, plain Catholics, who ought by all\nmeans to be familiar with the Gospel history, and who will find\nthis arrangement of it much better for their use than the Gospels\nthemselves read separately. This book ought to be in every Catholic\nfamily, day-school, and Sunday-school, and to be circulated by the\nten thousand.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE LIBRARY OF GOOD EXAMPLE. In twelve volumes. New York: P.\n     O'Shea. 1870.\n\nThis series is mainly composed of tales, etc., already before the\npublic in manifold guises. Hence an enumeration of the titles of\nthe several volumes, or a review of their contents, would be to our\nreaders \"a thrice-told tale.\" We will only say that, in our opinion,\nalthough they are admirably adapted for the perusal of children,\nthe temper, at least of the juvenile reader, in search of \"fresh\nfields and pastures new,\" will not be improved by the discovery that,\nin expending his pocket-money for the _Library of Good Example_,\nhe has, for the third time, in some instances, purchased the same\nbook. In one respect, however, this series is an improvement on its\npredecessors--it is _not_ illustrated.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     CONCILIEN GESCHICHTE. Hefele. Vol. vii. Part I. Council of\n     Constance. 1869.\n\nThis part of the learned bishop's great work is especially\ninteresting at the present moment, on account of the pretence raised\nby a certain number of persons that the Council of Constance was,\nin all its sessions, oecumenical. It is, besides this temporary\ninterest, of lasting and intrinsic importance, for reasons well known\nto every scholar. Dr. Hefele not only gives us a learned and accurate\nhistorical work, but also a graphic picture of the intensely exciting\nand interesting events of the great Council of Constance. We cite\nthe author's concluding sentence on the authority of the decrees of\nthe council: \"That (Eugenius IV.) intended to exclude the decrees of\nConstance respecting the superiority of general councils over the\npope from his approbation is indubitable. In accordance with this,\nand according to modern law, which declares the papal approbation\nof general councils necessary in order to make them such, there can\nbe no doubt that (_a_) all the decrees of Constance, which are not\nprejudicial to the papacy, are to be considered oecumenical; on\nthe other hand, that (_b_) all which infringe against the _jus_,\nthe _dignitas_, and _pr\u00e6eminentia_ of the apostolic see, are to be\nconsidered as reprobated.\" This is in harmony with the sentiment\nof all the soundest canonists and theologians, namely, that which\nexcludes the Council of Constance from the number of the councils\nstrictly called oecumenical, and relegates it to a second class of\ngeneral councils some of whose decrees are rejected and others\napproved.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE STATUS OF THE CATHOLIC CLERGY IN THE UNITED STATES. Bishop\n     McQuaid!--Father O'Flaherty!--The Imbroglio in the Diocess of\n     Rochester.\n\nThis vile anonymous pamphlet, printed without any publisher's name\nand signed, \"Priests of the Diocese of Rochester,\" is a disgrace to\nits authors, especially if they are really priests. A publication of\nthis kind, which is in itself a grievous offence, cannot claim even a\nhearing for any thing it may contain. If any priests of the diocese\nof Rochester have so far lost all sense of sacerdotal duty as to put\nforth this pamphlet, taking advantage of their bishop's absence,\nit is evident that a little more application of ecclesiastical\ndiscipline in that diocese will prove salutary.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE BYRNES OF GLENGOULAH. A True Tale. By Alice Nolan. New York:\n     P. O'Shea.\n\n     SALLY CAVANAGH; OR, THE UNTENANTED GRAVES. A Tale of Tipperary. By\n     Charles J. Kickham. Boston: Patrick Donahoe.\n\nThe foul wrongs to which the existing laws between landlord and\ntenant expose the peasantry of Ireland are made the ground-work of\nboth these stories of Irish life. While these wrongs are familiar to\nall, so also are their sad effects, as narrated in the volumes before\nus. Of these, the former is undoubtedly more racy of the soil; though\nthe latter, we think, will leave a more pleasing impression on the\nreader. The great fault with Miss Nolan is a talent for exaggeration;\nher _favorites_ are always right; their enemies are ever harsh in\nword, cruel in act, and villainous in appearance. The landlord's\nvictims are almost too ethereal for humanity--only a little less than\nangels; he and his myrmidons too diabolical for fiends.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     GREAT MYSTERIES AND LITTLE PLAGUES. By John Neal. Boston: Roberts\n     Brothers. 1870.\n\nThe author proves that he has fully studied his subject, and that\nhis title-page, though rather mysterious, is still most expressive\nand true. He shows by nearly three hundred anecdotes that children\nare really great mysteries and little plagues. His fairy story of\n\"Goody Gracious! and the Forget-me-not\" is the very model of a fairy\nstory--plenty of imagination without going into the impossible and\nimprobable.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     ACTA EX IIS DECERPTA QU\u00c6 APUD SANCTAM SEDEM GERUNTUR, etc.\n     Baltimore: Kelly & Piet.\n\nThis is a fac-simile reprint of the Roman edition. It is a work of\nthe greatest utility to ecclesiastics. We noticed some errors of the\npress, which suggests the remark that the proofs should invariably be\ncarefully revised by a clergyman.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nP. Donahoe, Boston, announces for early publication, _Life Pictures\nof the Passion of Christ_, translated from the German of Dr. Veith,\nby Rev. Father Noethen; _The Our Father_, translated from the\nGerman of the same author; _The Monks of the West_, by the Count\nMontalembert, and a _Life of Pius IX_.\n\n\nBOOKS RECEIVED.\n\n     From P. O'Shea, New York, The Key of Heaven; or, A Manual of\n     Prayer. With the approbation of the Most Rev. John McCloskey,\n     D.D., Archbishop of New York. Revised, corrected, and improved.\n     1869. Pp. 532.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     From J. W. SCHERMERHORN & CO., New York: Scottish University\n     Addresses by Mill, Froude, Carlyle. Paper.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     From E. CUMMISKEY, Philadelphia: Considerations upon Christian\n     Truths and Christian Duties; digested into Meditations for\n     every day in the year. By Rt. Rev. Richard Challoner. New\n     edition. 1 vol. 12mo. Controversy between Rev. Messrs. Hughes\n     and Breckinridge on the subject, \"Is the Protestant Religion the\n     Religion of Christ?\" Sixth edition. 1 vol. 12mo.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\nVOL. X., No. 60.--MARCH, 1870.\n\n\n\n\nCIVIL AND POLITICAL LIBERTY.[176]\n\n\nThat evangelical romancer, M. Merle d'Aubign\u00e9, not long since\npublished a discourse having for title, _Jean Calvin, un des\nFondateurs des Libert\u00e9s Modernes_, or \"John Calvin, one of the\nFounders of Modern Liberty.\" The discourse, as the Abb\u00e9 Martin\nsays, is of no importance; but the title is significant. It claims\nfor the Genevan reformer the merit of being one of the founders\nof liberty in modern society. Mr. Bancroft in his _History of the\nUnited States_ does the same. A Lutheran might with equal truth\nclaim as much for Luther, a Scottish Presbyterian as much for John\nKnox, and an Anglican as much for Henry VIII. and the Virgin Queen\nElizabeth. Nearly all Protestant and anti-Catholic writers assume,\nas an indisputable maxim, that liberty was born of the Reformation.\nAll your Protestant and liberal journals assert it, and the ignorant\nmultitude believe it. Whoever contradicts it is denounced as an\nultramontanist, a tool of the clergy, or a Jesuit, and, of course,\nis silenced. Protestant nations enjoy, even with many Catholics,\nthe _prestige_ of being free nations; and all Catholic nations are\nset down as despotic, and, owing to the influence of the church,\nas deadly hostile to every kind of liberty, religious, political,\ncivil, and individual. Protestantism and liberty, or Catholicity\nand despotism, is adopted as the formula of the convictions of this\nenlightened age.\n\nThis alleged connection of Protestantism and liberty, and of\nCatholicity and despotism, the Abb\u00e9 Martin maintains, is what gives\nto Protestant missions in old Catholic nations the principal part of\ntheir success in unmaking Catholics. The Protestant missionaries,\nseconded by all the liberal journals, proclaim their Protestantism\nas the liberator of nations, as that which emancipates the people\nfrom political despotism, and the mind from spiritual thraldom.\nThe great argument used in this country against the church is her\nalleged hostility to liberty, and the certainty, if she once gained\nthe ascendency here, she would destroy our free institutions, and\nreduce the nation to political and spiritual slavery. Such is the\nallegation; such the argument.\n\nNow, every man who knows anything of history knows that the reverse\nof what is here alleged is true. The church has, undoubtedly, always\nopposed lawlessness, and set her face against revolutions for either\nking or people; but she has never favored slavery or despotism, and\nhas always favored that orderly liberty, the only true liberty,\nwhich consists in the reign of law, instead of passion, caprice,\nor arbitrary will. She has always and everywhere insisted that the\nlaws should be just and supreme, alike for ruler and ruled. She has\nsometimes submitted to despotic authority, but she has never approved\nit, or recognized it as legitimate; and when a courtier monk preached\nbefore Philip II. of Spain that the king is absolute, and may do\nwhatever he wills, the Spanish Inquisition arraigned him for his\nfalse doctrine, and compelled him to retract it publicly from the\nsame pulpit from which he had preached it.\n\nThe fact is, not that liberty was born of or with the Reformation,\nbut that the Reformation itself was born of absolute monarchy,\ndespotism, or C\u00e6sarism, revived and confirmed at the epoch of its\nbirth. Prior to the Reformation, which marked the triumph of C\u00e6sarism\nover feudalism, there was, no doubt, much barbarism in Christian\nEurope; but there was no absolutism. A reminiscence of Gr\u00e6co-Roman\nimperialism remained, indeed, and was cherished by the civil\nlawyers or legists, whose maxim was, _Quod placuit principi, legis\nhabet vigorem_; but absolutism never succeeded in getting itself\nestablished. The German emperors, especially the Hohenstauffen,\nC\u00e6sarists in principle as well as in name, attempted to revive the\nRoman empire, but did not succeed. Power was divided. There were\nfree cities and _communes_ that governed themselves as veritable\nrepublics under the guardianship, nominal rather than real, of a\nsuzerain. The royal power was limited by the great vassals of the\ncrown, and the authority of these in turn was limited by the lesser\nnobles, by the estates, and by the laws, and usages which had the\nforce of laws. What characterizes the middle ages is the spirit of\nliberty. Few men in our time have better understood the middle ages,\nsave as to the action of the church, than Sir Walter Scott, who, if a\nromancer, was also something more and better. He says in his _Anne of\nGeierstein_:\n\n     \"We may remind our readers that, in all feudalized countries,\n     (that is to say, in almost all Europe during the middle ages,) an\n     _ardent spirit of liberty_ pervaded the constitution; and the only\n     fault that could be found was, that the privileges and freedom for\n     which the great vassals contended did not sufficiently descend to\n     the lower orders of society, or extend protection to those most\n     likely to need it. The two first ranks in the state, the nobles\n     and the clergy, enjoyed high and important privileges, and even\n     the third estate, or citizens, had this immunity in peculiar, that\n     no new duties, customs, or taxes of any kind could be exacted from\n     them save by their own consent.\"\n\nThe fault Sir Walter mentions was not peculiar to the middle ages,\nand is not less in European countries to-day than it was then. The\nrepresentatives or delegates of the cities and _communes_ constituted\nthe third estate, and sat in the assembly of the estates as early\nas the reign of Philip the Fair. If the rural population were not\nrepresented in the estates, they were not forgotten. The church had\nreceived that population as either slaves or serfs. She had succeeded\nin completely abolishing slavery in all continental Europe before the\nfifteenth century, and had made much progress toward putting an end\nto serfage. The enslaved populations were emancipated in nearly all\nCatholic Europe before the Reformation, and in the early part of the\nseventeenth century the French courts decided that \"a slave could\nnot breathe the air of France.\" The maxim of the English courts was\nplagiarized from the French judges. There may be a question whether\nthe European peasant has gained much since the middle ages; whether\nhis increased wants have not more than kept pace with his increased\nmeans of supply; and as for protection, they who most need it never\nfind it under any political _r\u00e9gime_. The most cruel and heartless\nlandlords could not have been more cruel and heartless than are your\ncotton-mills and mammoth moneyed corporations, especially when Mammon\nwas not exclusively worshipped.\n\nBut be all this as it may, this much is certain: that during the\nfeudal ages there was, under the influence and untiring exertions of\nthe pope and the monastic orders, a constant social amelioration of\nsociety going on, and the whole tendency of those marvellous ages, so\nlittle understood, and so foully belied, was toward the establishment\nin every nation of a well-ordered liberty, under the safeguard of the\nchurch, and of Christian or Christianized traditions and manners. The\nfifteenth century came, and brought with it not only the revival of\npagan literature, but of pagan politics, which gave to the secular\norder a predominance over the spiritual, as we have explained in\nprevious articles. The unhappy residence of the popes at Avignon,\nthat \"Babylonian captivity,\" as it has been called, and the great\nschism of the west, which followed it, in the fourteenth century,\nhad served much to diminish the splendor and to weaken the political\npower of the papacy. This, coupled with the secular development of\nthe age, and the pagan revival, gave a chance for C\u00e6sarism to raise\nits head, and for the sovereigns to declare themselves absolute,\nand responsible to God alone for their exercise of power. The feudal\nconstitution of Europe was crushed, and the pagan empire took its\nplace. Not only the emperor and the mightiest kings, but the pettiest\nsovereign duke or count became a C\u00e6sar in his own dominions.\n\nAt this moment, just as C\u00e6sarism was on the point of winning the\nvictory, the Reformation broke out, not in behalf of the old\nliberties, but to help abolish them and secure to C\u00e6sar his triumph.\nSo far from founding or even aiding liberty, it interrupted its\nprogress, and gave the movement in its favor, which had from the\nseventh century been going on, a false and fatal direction. The\noriginators of the Reformation may have been simply heterodox\ntheologians; but they could not sustain themselves without the aid\nof the princes, and that aid could be obtained only by ministering\nto their love of power, and submitting to their supremacy alike in\nspirituals and temporals. The princes that favored the Reformation\nbecame each in his own principality absolute prince and _pontifex\nmaximus_. The prince protects the reformers, and uses his civil and\nmilitary power to crush their enemies, and to extirpate the old\nreligion from his dominions. Dependent on him, and sustained only as\nupheld by him, the Reformation was impotent to restrain his arbitrary\npower. The reformed religion, like gentilism, of which it was in fact\nonly a revival, assumed at once the character of a national religion;\nand the reformed church was absorbed by the state, and became one of\nits functions, an instrument of police, which must always be the fate\nof a national religion.\n\nBut the Protestant nations not only helped on C\u00e6sarism, which was\nthe spirit of the age, but they gave up or were despoiled of their\nold liberties, which they had long possessed and enjoyed under\nthe benign protection of the church. England saw her parliament\npractically annulled, and the prince governing, under Henry VIII.,\nhis daughter Elizabeth, and the first two Stuarts, as a Byzantine\nBasileus or an oriental despot; and it cost her a century of\ninsurrections, revolutions, and civil wars to recover some portion\nof the political and civil freedom of which the Reformation had\ndespoiled her. Even the Abb\u00e9 Martin seems to forget that from 1639\nto 1746 England was in a state as unsettled as France has been\nsince 1789. She has not even yet recovered all her old liberties.\nShe has, indeed, depressed the crown to exalt the aristocracy of\nbirth or wealth, and is now entering upon a fearful struggle between\naristocracy and democracy, most likely to end either in reviving the\npagan republic, or in establishing once more the absolute authority\nof the crown.\n\nThe author very justly maintains that Protestantism has not created\nliberty, and that it has arrested or falsified it. He recalls that,\n\n     \"At the breaking out of Protestantism slavery had entirely\n     disappeared, and serfage or villenage, the transition state from\n     slavery to complete liberty, was gradually disappearing, and\n     giving place to free labor and domestic servants. The third estate\n     was everywhere constituted, and nowhere had it more life and vigor\n     than in the neighborhood of the churches and monasteries. This\n     emancipation was the work of the Catholic Church, and never had\n     a more signal service been rendered to liberty. The basis of all\n     liberties, I say not of modern but of Christian liberties, was\n     laid.\n\n     \"Impartial history testifies that Protestantism has not\n     accelerated this movement in behalf of liberty, but has arrested\n     it. A few facts, gathered at random from the immense number that\n     might be adduced, will sufficiently prove this assertion.\n\n     \"'In Denmark,' says Berthold, 'the peasant was reduced to serfage\n     as a dog.' The nobility profited by the reform, not only to\n     appropriate to themselves the greater part of the goods of the\n     church, but also the free goods of the peasant.\n\n     \"'The _corv\u00e9es_,' says Allen, the best historian of Denmark,\n     'were arbitrarily multiplied; the peasants were treated as serfs.\n     It happened frequently that the children of the preachers and\n     sacristans themselves were reduced to serfage. In 1804--mark\n     the late date--personal liberty was granted for the first time\n     to twenty thousand families of serfs. Sweden and Norway fared\n     no better. In Mecklenburg, the oppression of the peasants,\n     who had no one to defend their rights since they had lost the\n     effective and vigilant protection of the Catholic clergy, followed\n     immediately the triumph of the Reformation. At the diet of 1607,\n     they were declared simple tenants at will--_colons_--who must\n     yield up to the landlords, on their demand, even the lands which\n     they had possessed from time immemorial. Their personal liberty\n     was suppressed by the ordinances of 1633, 1648, and 1654. They\n     sought to escape from this intolerable servitude by flight. The\n     emigration was large. But the severest punishments, the lash,\n     the carcan, even death, could not arrest it, nor prevent the\n     depopulation of the fields. The lot of those miserable creatures\n     hardly differed from that of negro slaves. The only difference\n     was, that the masters were prohibited from separating families,\n     and selling the members to the highest bidder at public auction;\n     but they eluded it by trading off their serfs as horses and cows.\n     Serfage was abolished in Mecklenburg only in 1820.\n\n     \"The introduction of the Reform into Pomerania gave birth there\n     to all the horrors of slavery. The ordinance of 1616 decreed that\n     all peasants are serfs without any rights.... The ministers were\n     required to denounce the fugitive serf from the pulpit. People are\n     astonished to-day at the emigration from Germany, which nearly\n     doubles that from Ireland. May not the cause be found in that old\n     state of things, which, though recently abolished, has left but\n     too many traces of its existence?\n\n     \"A single fact will enable us to judge of the magnitude of the\n     evil in Prussia. Under Frederick II., the contemporary and friend\n     of Voltaire, who labored so energetically to make of his infant\n     kingdom an immense barrack, the soldiers themselves, the support\n     and instrument of his power, when discharged, returned to the\n     common lot of serfs, after having fought his battles and won his\n     victories. They were subjected anew to their landlords; and not\n     only they, but also their wives, their widows, and their children,\n     even though born in a state of freedom....\n\n     \"Calvinism has not produced so sad results of the same kind. Less\n     hierarchical in its nature than Lutheranism, and having taken\n     its rise in Geneva, a free state, it has preserved something of\n     its original constitution. Thus it has prevailed generally in\n     countries organized under a republican form; in France, even, it\n     aspired to a federation. But the liberty it has found, rather\n     than created, it turns into an odious tyranny. It has, above\n     all, no respect for individual liberty. The system which Calvin\n     established at Geneva was even surpassed by that of John Knox\n     in Scotland. The ecclesiastical domination over the faithful,\n     and the inquisition into all their doings, were frightful. Every\n     detail of private life could be brought before the presbyterial\n     _forum_; nobody could feel himself safe. Espionage and domestic\n     accusation were the soul of the system. The secrets of the\n     family were scrutinized and inventoried; and the terrible arm\n     of excommunication struck without relaxation and without mercy.\n     Woe to him who fell under its blows; for him there was no social\n     right. Will it be believed? The Puritans of England, who, to\n     escape oppression and death, free, and masters of a virgin\n     territory, became only the more rigorous, and their communities in\n     North America were even more exclusive and tyrannical than those\n     of their brethren in Europe.\" (Pp. 326-330.)\n\nThe author is too lenient toward Calvinism. It had, indeed, no\npartiality for monarchy, and just as little for democracy. What\nit aimed at was an aristocracy of the saints. Only those in grace\ncould be freemen or exercise any authority in the community. The\nchurch was composed of the saints alone; and hence, in the colony\nof Massachusetts, only church members could be selectmen, or\nmagistrates, or vote in elections. Church members had equal rights\nindeed; but those who were not church members had no rights at\nall, political, civil, or individual, and no social standing. The\nchurch members themselves covenanted to watch over each other, which\nmeant, practically, that every member was to act as a spy upon every\nother member; and hence that cautiousness in speech, that fear of\na _mouchard_ in every neighbor, and that obsequiousness to public\nopinion, which marks not a few of the descendants of the New England\nPuritans even to this day. The rights of man in relation to his\nbrother man were undreamed of, and for individual liberty there was\nno respect whatever. The individual was subject to the congregation,\nruled by the pastor and elders or deacons, themselves ruled by\ntwo or three venerable spinsters. Calvinism sought, in fact, to\ngovern society, _minus_ celibacy, as a monastery, by converting the\nevangelical counsels into inflexible laws, and without the assistance\nof the grace of vocation. We shall never forget the odious tyranny\nto which Calvinism subjected our own boyhood. Life for us was stern,\ngloomy, hedged round with terror. We did not dare listen to the\njoyous song of a bird, nor to inhale the fragrance of an opening\nflower. Whatever gave pleasure was to be eschewed, and the most\ninnocent pleasures were to be accounted deadly sins. We cannot even\nnow, in our old age, think of our own Calvinistic childhood, which\nwas by no means exceptional, without a shudder.\n\nThus far the author has spoken of individual liberty, which is the\nmost essential of all, and without which civil and political liberty\nis a vain mockery. He asserts and proves, as we have seen, that\nProtestantism has not given to individual liberty a new development,\nbut has arrested it. Well, was it more favorable to political\nliberty? We have answered this question already, but we cannot\nforbear citing the author's own reply:\n\n     \"At the epoch of the outbreak of Protestantism, Christendom was\n     advancing with rapid strides toward the practice of the largest\n     liberty. For centuries the Italian republics had pushed liberty\n     almost to license. They were, no doubt, often disorderly and\n     turbulent; but they were full of sap, overflowing with life and\n     activity, which availed for Italy a power and a glory which\n     she seeks in vain from a factitious unity. Switzerland, by the\n     energy of her patriotism and the wisdom of her government, won\n     the admiration of the whole world. Flanders and the northern\n     provinces of Spain watched with jealous susceptibility over their\n     proud and noble independence; England had her _Magna Charta_, the\n     basis of the strong constitution which has given her security\n     in the midst of modern political and social convulsions; the\n     cities and _communes_ of France and Germany administered freely\n     their own affairs, as small republics under the guardianship,\n     often more nominal than real, of some few suzerains. The guilds\n     or corporations of the mechanics and tradesmen enjoyed rights\n     the most extended. Power was nowhere despotic, and, though not\n     restrained by scientific and uniform rules, it encountered\n     everywhere a counterpoise to its authority and obstacles to\n     its arbitrary will. Christian monarchy, that creation of the\n     church, unknown in antiquity, approached maturity, and there was\n     room to hope that it would found liberty without opening the\n     door to license, and without having recourse to that enormous\n     centralization which has only too often become a necessity.\n     Catholic theology, always liberal, in the true sense of the word,\n     inclined more to the rights of the people than to the rights of\n     the sovereign. It knew not yet that right divine of kings as it\n     was understood under Louis XIV., a diminutive pagan C\u00e6sarism,\n     which, as we shall show further on, held more strictly than is\n     commonly believed from the principles which the Renaissance and\n     Protestantism caused to prevail.\" (Pp. 330-332.)\n\nWe remark here that the _Christian monarchy_ of which the learned\nabb\u00e9 speaks existed in the doctrines of the theologians and in the\nefforts of the church, rather than in the actual order. There were\nChristian monarchs or sovereigns, like St. Henry of Germany, St.\nFerdinand of Spain, and St. Louis of France; but there was nowhere,\nthat we have been able to discover, a _Christian_ monarchy. The\nfeudal monarchy was of barbarian origin, and was a development of\nthe chief of the tribe or clan. Side by side with this, constantly\nstruggling with it for the mastership of society, was Gr\u00e6co-Roman\nimperialism, or briefly, C\u00e6sarism, favored by the whole body of the\nlegists, and always opposed by the church, though not always by\nchurchmen become statesmen and courtiers. This pagan C\u00e6sarism, which\nconcentrates in the hands of the prince absolute authority in both\ntemporals and spirituals, survived the fall of the Roman empire, and\nnever for a moment ceased to struggle to recover the mastership;\nand it was it that was in question in the long struggle between the\npope and the emperor. Defeated in the last of the Hohenstauffen, it\nrevived in every petty prince in Christendom. It drove the popes\nfrom Rome into the exile of Avignon, and caused the great western\nschism. Still, the church was for a time able to prevent its complete\nsuccess. But in 1453 came the taking of Constantinople by the Ottoman\nTurks, the dispersion of the Greek scholars through the west; and\nthe revival of pagan politics and literature served to reinforce\nC\u00e6sarism, to weaken the influence of the church, and to give birth to\nthe Protestant Reformation--at bottom nothing more nor less than a\nrevival of the pagan order, against which the church from her birth\nhad struggled.\n\nThe movement of which Protestantism was one of the results dates\nfrom a period before Luther, Melancthon, and Calvin, from the\nrevival in the fifteenth century, and the successful struggle of\nC\u00e6sarism against feudalism and the church. Protestantism may have\nprevented the development of a Christian monarchy; but it was itself\na child of C\u00e6sarism. The movement against feudalism, and for the\nconcentration of power in the hands of the monarch, as well as for\ngreat centralized states, preceded the birth of Protestantism. Louis\nXI. in France, Maximilian I. in Germany, Henry VII. of England,\nthe Cardinal Ximenes in Spain, and the de' Medici in Italy, all\nlabored for the centralization of power, and paved the way for\nthe revival and triumph in their respective countries of pagan\nC\u00e6sarism. The Abb\u00e9 Martin's statements are correct only in case we\ncount Protestantism, under its social and political aspects, as the\ncontinuation and development of the movement in behalf of C\u00e6sarism,\nor the centralization of power, and against the liberties secured by\nfeudalism.\n\nWe are no admirers of feudalism; but we hold it better than the\nGr\u00e6co-Roman imperialism it supplanted, or the absolute monarchy\nwhich succeeded it in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, of\nwhich Bossuet was a conspicuous defender. The Reformation aided the\nmovement in behalf of C\u00e6sarism, by bringing to its support an open\nrebellion against the papal authority and the faith of the church,\nand secured it the victory. C\u00e6sarism followed it immediately, not\nonly in the nations that accepted the new religion, but also, to a\ngreat extent, in the nations that remained Catholic. On the first\npoint the author asks:\n\n     \"Who does not know that Lutheranism depended solely on the\n     princes and nobles to overcome and despoil the church, and to\n     triumph over the resistance of the people? Through gratitude, and\n     through necessity, it surrendered itself and the people to the\n     discretionary authority of the princes. In all countries where it\n     became predominant, absolute power prevailed.\n\n     \"As the result of the revolution in 1661, Frederic III. of Denmark\n     and his successors were declared absolute monarchs. The royal\n     law of 1665 attests that the king was required to take no oath,\n     was under no obligation whatever; but had plenary authority to\n     do whatever he pleased. In Sweden, the violent and surreptitious\n     establishment of Protestantism was done in the interest of royalty\n     and nobility, and, moreover, raised up an antagonism between\n     these two powers which produced a series of revolutions in that\n     country unrivalled in any other European state. But royalty\n     finally triumphed. The estates, in 1680, declared that the king\n     is bound to no form of government. In 1682, they declared it an\n     absurdity to pretend that he was bound by statutes and ordinances\n     to consult, before acting, the estates; whence it follows that\n     the will of the king was the supreme law. 'After that,' says\n     Geijer, the classic historian of Sweden, 'all was interpreted to\n     the advantage of the omnipotence of one alone. The estates were\n     no longer called the estates of the realm, but the estates of his\n     majesty. In 1693, the unlimited absolutism of royalty became the\n     law; the king was free to govern according to his good pleasure,\n     without any responsibility.'\n\n     \"It would be too long to follow the introduction of the same\n     _r\u00e9gime_ as the consequence of the Reformation into the several\n     states and principalities of Germany, in Mecklenburg, Pomerania,\n     the duchies of Hanover and Brunswick, Brandenburg and Saxony.\n     Everywhere the introduction of the new religion was followed\n     by an augmentation of the power of the prince and nobles, and\n     everywhere the prince finally succeeded in absorbing the power\n     of the nobility. Prussia affords us a striking example of this\n     result. Under the reign of the Elector Frederick William, from\n     1640 to 1688, the arbitrary and absolute power of the prince was\n     developed according to a regular plan. The General Diet after 1665\n     ceased to be convoked. Crushing taxes were imposed without the\n     consent and against the protests of the estates, and collected by\n     the military; and so heavy were they, that multitudes of peasants,\n     despoiled of their goods, were driven to brigandage for a living.\n     A great number sought refuge in Poland, and nobles even deserted\n     a country that devoured their children. Lands which were taxed\n     beyond the value of their produce were abandoned, and suffered\n     to run to waste. The country was oppressed by an unprecedented\n     tyranny. Prussia, according to the expression of Stenzel, was\n     in the way of becoming one of those Asiatic countries in which\n     despotism stifles the growth of whatever is beautiful or noble.\"\n     (Pp. 332-334.)\n\nWe have already spoken of the effects of the introduction of\nProtestantism into England and Scotland. Calvinism, the author\nconsiders, caused less grave and less durable damage to liberty; yet\nit was not less tyrannical by nature, only it was less monarchical.\n\"At Geneva it confiscated all the ancient franchises to the profit\nof the oligarchy it established, and it was not owing to it that\nin Holland the stadtholder did not become absolute.\" Protestant\nhistorians are perfectly well aware of these facts, and from time to\ntime they concede them; and yet the best of them continue to assert\nthe impudent falsehood, that Protestantism has created and sustained\nmodern liberty, individual, civil, and political--not, indeed,\nbecause it has done so, but because they think it would have been\nmuch in its favor if it had.\n\nThe other point, that Protestantism is in great measure responsible\nfor the establishment or partial establishment of the pagan monarchy,\nor C\u00e6sarism, in Catholic nations, we have shown in our previous\narticles on the work before us; yet we cite the following from the\nauthor:\n\n     \"It is not simply in countries in which it triumphed that\n     the Protestant Reformation has given to liberty a retrograde\n     movement; it has reacted in a most fatal, though generally in\n     an imperceptible, manner on Catholic governments themselves.\n     It was, at its first appearance, a terrible temptation to the\n     princes and sovereigns of Europe. It broke that firm independence\n     of the Catholic clergy which had for so many ages repressed the\n     tyrannical aspirations of secular governments; it gave up the\n     rich spoils of the church to them, reversed their parts, and\n     after having placed the priest, the representative of heaven, at\n     the mercy of the powers of earth, it constituted the prince the\n     master and director of consciences. What could be more seductive?\n     An obstacle to overcome, almost a yoke to break, independence\n     to conquer, vast riches to appropriate, the empire of souls to\n     place by the side of the empire of bodies, the ideal of a power\n     veritably sovereign; is it not the dream of every man who feels\n     himself at the head of a nation? Princes and sovereigns yielded to\n     the temptation. They were, besides, already prepared for it, by\n     the received theories of legists or civil lawyers, inherited from\n     the pagan state; by the ideas propagated by the Renaissance and by\n     the Machiavelian lessons then taught in all the courts of Europe;\n     and if all did not accept Protestantism, it was far less due to\n     their personal repulsion than to the decided opposition of their\n     people. But the new ideal of power germinated in their minds.\n     On the other hand, the church, weakened and her very existence\n     threatened, saw herself reduced to the necessity of relying on\n     them for support against the armed violence of the Reformation.\n     She must purchase their protection, and could do it only at the\n     expense of her independence. In various places she abandoned to\n     them the nomination of bishops and the collation of benefices,\n     giving by this sacrifice, rigorously exacted by circumstances,\n     and by this abandonment of her rights, which afterward proved so\n     fatal, a sufficient satisfaction for the moment to the secret\n     reason which inclined them to Protestantism. She loosened a prey\n     to them, in order not to be devoured herself. Their hunger thus\n     appeased, they consented to sustain her, but without having a\n     common cause with her.\n\n     \"Profiting adroitly by their position, the sovereigns passed\n     rapidly from the part of defenders of the church to that of\n     guardians and masters, and while respecting the essence of the\n     spiritual power, they labored to subordinate the church and the\n     exercise of her authority to the surveillance of the state. Not\n     content with excluding all control of the church over their own\n     acts, all interventions of the spiritual authority in civil\n     and political affairs, they sought, after the example of the\n     Protestant princes, to penetrate the interior of the church,\n     and make themselves pontiffs; and if we cannot say that they\n     completely succeeded, we cannot any more say that they wholly\n     failed. What is certain is, that thenceforward they ceased to find\n     any serious obstacle in the Catholic clergy or their chief to\n     their designs, and that the legists, imbued with the maxims of the\n     Roman law, and for a long time hostile to the church, coming to\n     their aid, absolute royalty, without much difficulty, prevailed.\n     The indirect influence of Protestantism was there.\n\n     \"Even the Catholic clergy themselves contributed to this fatal\n     evolution. Whether moved by gratitude, by a monarchical impulse,\n     or, in fine, by necessity, they accepted, at least in the civil\n     and political order, the new pretensions, and acknowledged the\n     new rights of those sovereigns who, in espousing the Catholic\n     religion, had saved it from the greatest danger it had as yet run.\n     Influenced by the tendency of the times, Catholic theologians,\n     especially in France, deserted the highways of the political\n     theology of the middle ages, and proclaimed not only the divine\n     origin of power, but the divine right of the king, his dependence\n     on God alone, and the passive obedience of the people. The idea\n     of the Christian monarchy was perverted, and in Catholic as in\n     Protestant countries it inclined to C\u00e6sarism. The church was the\n     principal victim of this political transformation; she was all but\n     smothered in the cruel embraces of Catholic monarchs, when God\n     himself delivered her by the blow which was intended to extinguish\n     her--the French Revolution. When that revolution broke out, the\n     work of the Renaissance and of the Reform seemed accomplished.\n     Except in England, Holland, and some microscopic Swiss republics,\n     Catholic for the most part, absolutism reigned everywhere. Is it\n     not, then, the strangest falsification of history to attribute to\n     Protestantism the initiation of modern liberty?\" (Pp. 339-341.)\n\nUnhappily, Protestants will pay little heed to the fact that the\nloss of liberty in Catholic nations was due either to Protestantism\nor to the movement of which Protestantism was simply a development.\nThere can be no reasonable doubt that but for Protestantism the\nchurch would have been able to check and roll back the powerful\nmovement for the revival of C\u00e6sarism, which had commenced in the\nfifteenth century, and have prevented the growth of absolute\nmonarchy in a single Catholic state. The Protestant rebellion so\nweakened her external power, and detached from her so large a\nportion of the populations of Europe, that she was no longer able to\nrestrain the absolutist tendencies of all European sovereigns. The\nsovereigns themselves, almost without exception, were inclined to\nthe movement--were, in fact, its chief supporters; and if they did\nnot all join it, it was because they were held back by their people,\nwhose faith in the old religion was too strong to be given up at\nthe pleasure of their princes, not because they had personally any\ndevotion or attachment to her faith. The French court and most of\nthe higher French nobility openly or secretly favored Protestantism\ntill the conversion of Henry IV.; and even that monarch had formed\na league with the Protestant princes, and was preparing for a war\nagainst the Catholic powers of Europe, at the very moment he\nwas assassinated. His policy was adopted and carried out under\nhis successors by Cardinals Richelieu and Mazarin, who repressed\nProtestantism in the interior, but supported it everywhere else.\nThat France remained Catholic, was owing to the concessions made by\nthe pope to her sovereigns, and to the firmness of the French people\nunder the lead of the noble Guises, so calumniated by almost all\nmodern French writers.\n\nYet the abb\u00e9 expresses himself too strongly. The triumph of\nabsolutism was never so complete in Catholic as in Protestant\nnations. In Protestant nations, the sovereigns united both the\npolitical and the spiritual powers, as under Greek and Roman\ngentilism, absorbed the church, and made religion a function of\nthe state. In Catholic nations, although royalty interfered beyond\nmeasure in ecclesiastical affairs, the two powers remained distinct,\nand the church retained, at least in principle, her autonomy, however\ncircumscribed and circumvented in its exercise. This is evident from\nthe concordats she conceded to the sovereigns, and the diplomatic\nrelations of Catholic powers with the holy see. Throughout all her\nhumiliations, the church asserted and maintained, in principle, her\nindependence. In all Protestant countries, the state legislated for\nthe Protestant church; it nowhere treated with it as a separate\npower, and held, and could hold, no diplomatic relations with it. In\nall Protestant nations, the church became national and local; but in\nall Catholic nations she continued to be Catholic, and was always and\neverywhere some restraint on the absolute power of the sovereign,\nas both Louis XIV. and Napoleon I. learned by experience, and hence\ntheir discreditable quarrels with the holy see, and the imprisonment\nof the holy father by the latter. Lord Molesworth remarked in 1792,\nas cited by the author from D\u00f6llinger's _Church and Churches_, that,\n\"in the Roman Catholic religion, with the supreme head of the church\nat Rome, there is a principle of opposition to unlimited political\npower. It is not the same with the Lutheran [he might have added\nthe Anglican] clergy, who depend on the crown as their spiritual\nand temporal superior.\" This principle opposes the unlimited power\nof the people no less than of the monarch, and hence the sects all\nagree, now that the age tends to democratic absolutism, in opposing\nthe church in the name of the people; for Protestantism has the same\nabsolutist instincts always and everywhere.\n\nThe author, we think, exaggerates the adoption by the Catholic\nclergy, even in France, of absolutism in politics. Bossuet, who\nwas a French courtier as well as a Catholic bishop, as tutor to\nthe dauphin, went, no doubt, as far in asserting the divine right\nof kings, and passive obedience, as the Anglican divines under the\nStuarts; and some of the clergy, yielding to court influence and\nthe spirit of the age, followed him; but the noble F\u00e9n\u00e9lon, in no\nrespect his inferior as a theologian, differed from him, held, with\nthe great body of Catholic theologians in all ages, that power is\na trust for the public good, and that kings are responsible to the\nnation for their exercise of it. It was his anti-absolutist doctrine,\nnot his few inaccurate expressions on the doctrine of pure love, in\nhis _Maxims of the Saints_, that caused him to be stripped of his\ncharges at court, and exiled to his diocese of Cambray. Nor is it\ntrue, as the abb\u00e9 insinuates, that the pope sanctioned the absolutist\ndoctrines which prevailed in France or elsewhere in the seventeenth\ncentury. The four articles, dictated by the government, slightly\nmodified by Bossuet, and accepted by a small minority of the French\nbishops, which contain the very essence of absolutism, were no sooner\npublished by order of the king, and commanded to be taught in all the\ntheological seminaries, and to be conformed to by all the professors\nand clergy of the realm, than the pope condemned them, annulled the\norder of the king, and finally compelled him to withdraw it, or at\nleast to pledge himself that he would do so. The pope never failed to\nassert, and, as far as he could, to cause to be respected, the rights\nof the church--that is to say, the rights of God, which are the only\nsolid basis of the rights of man.\n\nEvery theologian knows that, prior to the rise of Protestantism, and\neven for a considerable time afterward, Catholic political theology\nbears no trace of the absolutism taught by Bossuet, and which he had\nborrowed from contemporary Protestantism. It is worthy of remark\nthat nowhere were the first acts of the French Revolution hailed\nwith more joy than at Rome with the pope and cardinals, and it found\nno warmer, firmer, or more disinterested supporters than the French\nclergy as a body, whose representatives were the first to join the\n_Tiers-Etats_. Afterward, when the revolution run into horrible\nexcesses, put forth doctrines subversive of all religion, and even of\nsociety itself, assumed the right to legislate on spiritual matters,\nand showed that it only transferred absolutism from the king to the\nmob, there was undoubtedly a reaction against it in the minds of the\npope and clergy, as there was in the minds of all men not incapable\nof profiting by experience, and who could not prefer license to\norderly liberty. The salvation of religion and society made it the\nduty of the church to sustain with all her power the sovereigns in\ntheir efforts to repress the revolutionary spirit, and to restore\nand maintain social peace and order.\n\nIt is this fact, stripped of its reasons, and its real nature\nmisunderstood or misrepresented, that has given rise to the pretence\nthat the church opposes, while Protestantism, which is leagued, if\nnot identical, with the revolution, favors liberty. Protestants\nnever, that we are aware, put forth any pretence of the sort prior\nto 1792. Up to the moment of this reaction against the French\nrevolution, the contrary charge had been made, and the church\ncondemned for being hostile to the rights of sovereigns, and it was\nin reply to the speech of Cardinal Duperron, in the states-general in\nFrance in 1614, in favor of the rights of the nation and the church\nagainst the irresponsibility of the crown, that James I. of England\nwrote his _Remonstrance for the Divine Right of Kings_. History as\nwritten by Protestants is composed of disjointed facts, misplaced and\nmisrepresented, whenever it is not pure invention.\n\nThe author is not quite exact in saying absolutism reigned everywhere\nat the breaking out of the French revolution, except in England,\nHolland, and the Swiss cantons. The United States had won their\nindependence and adopted their federal constitution before that\nevent, and certainly the American republic was not founded on the\nprinciple of the omnipotence of the state or of the people. It\nrevived neither pagan imperialism nor pagan republicanism, and was in\nits fundamental principles more nearly a Christian republic than the\nworld had hitherto seen.\n\nIt would seem, as the great mass of the American people were\nProtestants, and the more influential portion of them intensely\nProtestant, of the Calvinistic type, that the American republic\nshould be held as an exception to the assertion that Protestantism\nresulted everywhere in the establishment of absolutism. But it is\nin reality no exception. It had no existence at the epoch of the\nReformation, and Protestantism had no hand in founding it. It was\nfounded by Providence, and the principles which form its basis\nwere derived by the English colonists, not from Protestantism, but\nfrom the old constitution of England in Catholic times, and which,\nthough suppressed by the ruling classes, never ceased to live in the\ntraditions of the English people. The revolution in the seventeenth\ncentury in England was the struggle of the English people to recover\ntheir old rights, of which Protestant royalty and nobility had\ndeprived them. Royalty and nobility did not emigrate; they remained\nat home, and there were in the Anglo-American colonies no materials\nfrom which either could be constructed. The great principle of the\nPuritans, that the church is independent of the state and superior\nto it, or that the state has no authority to legislate in religious\nmatters, not even in non-essentials, was a Catholic principle, for\nwhich the popes, in their long struggles with the secular power,\nhad uniformly contended. It is the vital principle of liberty; for\nit interposes the rights of God, represented by the church, as the\nlimits of the rights of the state. The Puritans had asserted this\nprinciple in their own defence against the Protestant king and\nparliament of England, which assumed plenary authority in spirituals\nas well as in temporals. It was not Protestantism that developed this\ngreat principle of all just liberty, and opposed to all absolutism;\nit was the old Catholic principle, always and everywhere asserted by\nthe Catholic Church.\n\nBut taking the Bible, especially the Old Testament, interpreted by\na fallible authority, as their criterion of the rights of God,\nas represented by their Puritan church, the Puritans failed not\nin asserting, but in applying the principle, and established, in\npractice, as we have seen, a most odious tyranny. They misapplied\nthe principle, which can be rightly applied only by the Catholic\nChurch. Their Protestantism misled them, and perverted the truth\nthey retained, as was universally the case with Calvinists. It is\neasy to see now why Protestantism deserves no credit for founding\nAmerican liberty. It was not of Protestant origin, and we may add\nProtestantism is busy at work to destroy it, or at least shows itself\nimpotent to sustain it.\n\nThe true basis of American liberty is in the assertion of the rights\nof God, represented by the church, or by religion, as bounding\nor limiting the power of the state, whether imperial or popular.\nBut under Protestant influences, the rights of God are resolved\ninto the rights of man, and the Christian republic becomes simply\na humanitarian republic, which can offer no solid foundation for\nliberty of any sort. The rights of man are no more sacred and\ninviolable than the rights of the prince or the state. It is only\nwhen the rights of man are resolved into the rights of God in and\nover man, that they are sacred and inviolable, or inalienable. But\nthe American people have ceased so to resolve them, if, indeed, they\never did it, and recognize no more ultimate basis for liberty than\nhumanity itself. If, as many of them do, they insist on religion as\nnecessary to the maintenance of liberty, it is only as an external\nprop or support, not as its logical basis, or root, out of which it\ngrows, and from which it derives all its sap and vigor.\n\nNo humanitarian republic is or can be a free republic, because,\nthough it recognizes the people as the state, and establishes\nuniversal suffrage and eligibility, it has nothing but humanity,\nnothing above the people, to limit or restrict their power as the\nstate. The people are humanity in the concrete, and a humanitarian\nrepublic therefore simply transfers the absolutism from the monarch\nto the people, and substitutes democratic C\u00e6sarism for monarchical\nC\u00e6sarism, the pagan republic for the pagan empire. Absolutism is\nabsolutism, whether predicated of the one or of the many. We in the\nUnited States are rapidly losing sight of the Catholic principle\nretained by the Puritans, and rushing into democratic absolutism;\nwe assert the omnipotence of the will of the people, and treat\nconstitutions as simply self-imposed restrictions, which bind no\nlonger than the people will. Demagogues, politicians, and statesmen\ntell the people that their will is supreme; and vainly would he seek\ntheir suffrages who should deny it. The opposition to the extension\nof the church in this country grows precisely out of the well-known\nfact, that she does not emanate from the people, is not subject to\nthe will of the people, and would restrict their omnipotence--an\nopposition that proves that she, not Protestantism, is the defender\nof liberty. Certainly, if she were to become predominant here, she\nwould soon put an end to the absolutism of the state, sustained by\nall our leading journals, and re\u00ebstablish the Christian republic, in\nplace of the humanitarian or pagan republic, to which we are pushed\nby the Protestant spirit of the age, the veritable _Welt-Geist_, or\nprince of this world, as all Protestant movements amply prove.\n\nThe abb\u00e9 shows a strict alliance between contemporary Protestantism\nand the revolution, or revolutionary movements in all European\nnations. With these revolutionary movements we have the authority\nof the chief magistrate of the Union for saying the American people\ngenerally sympathize. We lend, at least, all our moral support to\nthese movements wherever we see them. They owe their origin, in\nfact, to Protestantism; and, so far at least as they are confined\nto Catholic nations, are fomented and encouraged by Protestant\nemissaries and Protestant associations and contributions; yet these\nmovements are, under the name of liberty, purely humanitarian, and\ntheir success would simply substitute the absolutism of the people\nfor the absolutism of the monarch--democratic C\u00e6sarism, or rather,\ndemagogic C\u00e6sarism, for imperial C\u00e6sarism. In the sixteenth century,\nthe sovereigns embraced or inclined to the Reformation, because it\nremoved the restraints that the church imposed on their absolute\npower and arbitrary will; demagogues and revolutionists in the\nnineteenth century glorify it, because it removes all restrictions\non the will of the people as the state. In each case the church is\nopposed to it, and for the same reason, because she asserts the\nrights of God as the basis of the rights of man; and, as their\ndivinely constituted guardian and representative, interposes them\nas a limit to the absolute power of the state, whether monarchical\nor democratic, the only security possible for the reign of justice,\nof just laws, and therefore of real liberty, individual, civil, and\npolitical.\n\nThere is no doubt that Protestantism, since the culmination of\nmonarchical absolutism in the seventeenth century, has agitated\nfor the revival of what it calls liberty, but what we call the\nhumanitarian or pagan republic. The people moved by it have, no\ndoubt, supposed they were marching toward real liberty; but they have\nnowhere gained it, and have only removed the day of its acquisition.\nUnder its influence we have smothered the principle of liberty,\nand lost most of the guarantees which Providence gave us in the\noutset. We have lost not only the principle of liberty, but also\nits correlative, the principle of authority; and have no basis for\neither freedom or government, for the basis of neither can be found\nin humanity. Great Britain, to a certain extent, has popularized\nher administration; but through all her changes of dynasties and\nconstitutions, she has never ceased to assert the omnipotence of the\nstate as the state, supreme in spirituals as in temporals. On the\ncontinent, the revolution, attempted in the name of humanity, has\nnowhere founded liberty. Its momentary success in France from 1792 to\n1795, inclusive, is universally recognized as the Reign of Terror,\nwhen religion was suppressed and virtue was punished as a crime.\nFrance, after a century of revolutions, is not as free to-day as she\nwas even under her old monarchical institutions. The French are just\nnow trying anew the experiment of parliamentary government which the\nAnglo-maniacs consider only as another name for liberty; but whether\nthe experiment succeeds or fails, liberty will gain nothing; for the\nparliamentary government is as absolute as the personal government\nof Napoleon III., and most likely will have even less regard for the\nrights of God. The one no more than the other will recognize the\nspiritual power as a restriction on the power of the temporal.\n\nIn the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, the spirit of the age\nwas for the revival of pagan imperialism; the spirit of the age is\nnow, and has been since the middle of the last century, the pagan\nrepublic; but there is just as little liberty under the one as\nunder the other, or, if any difference, there is less under pagan\nrepublicanism than under pagan imperialism; for the Roman empire\nwas really an improvement on the Roman republic. Under the one the\nmonarch is the state; under the other the people or the ruling\nclasses are the state; and under both the state is alike supreme, and\nacknowledges no limit to its power. The republican party is now, here\nand in all Europe, as hostile to the church as were the sovereigns\nin the sixteenth century, and for the same reason. The party knows\nperfectly well that it is impossible for her to approve any form\nof absolutism in the state. Having decided that the humanitarian\nrepublic it seeks to establish, and to which the spirit of the age\ntends, is liberty, it holds, and public opinion sustains it, that its\nsuccess depends on sweeping her away, and destroying all religion\nthat does not emanate from the people, or that claims to be a power\nindependent of the state, and authorized to declare the law for the\npeople instead of receiving it from them. Because she resists the\nmadmen of this party, and seeks to save herself and society, they\ndenounce her as opposed to liberty, as the upholder of despots and\ndespotism, as at war with the spirit of the age, and the bitter enemy\nof modern civilization. \"If,\" said the accusers of our Lord to the\nRoman procurator, \"thou lettest this man go, thou art not C\u00e6sar's\nfriend.\" \"If,\" said the reformers in the sixteenth century, \"thou\nsparest the pope or the church, thou art no friend, but a traitor\nto the king;\" \"if,\" say their children in this nineteenth century,\n\"thou upholdest the church, thou art no friend, but a traitor to the\nsovereign people, and false to liberty;\" and the nineteenth century\nbelieveth them. We disbelieve them, and believe the Lord, who hath\nbought us with his own precious blood and made us free.\n\nThese madmen are animated and carried away by the spirit of the age,\nand suppose all the time that they are battling for liberty against\nits most dangerous enemies. They carry the people with them, and\ninduce them to crucify their God as a malefactor. What is to restrain\nthem? The strong arm of power? That were only to establish the reign\nof force. Reason? What can reason do with madmen, or against the\nmultitude blinded by false lights and moved onward by an unreasoning\npassion? The intelligence of the age? Are they not carried away by\nthe age, and is it not from the very madness of the age that they\nneed to be saved? When the very light in the age is darkness, how\ngreat must be its darkness! It is only a power that draws its light\nfrom a source of light above the light of the age, and acts with a\nwisdom and strength that is above the people, above the world, that\ncan restrain them and convert them into freemen.\n\nIf there is any truth in history, or any reliance to be placed on the\ninductions of reason, the author has amply proved, in opposition to\nthe pretensions of Protestants and revolutionists, that society under\nthe direction and influences of the Catholic Church marches steadily\ntoward a true and regular liberty--a liberty which is grounded in\nthe rights of God, and therefore secures the rights of man. He has\nalso proved conclusively, as experience itself proves, that just in\nproportion as the influence of the church in society is weakened,\nliberty disappears, and absolutism, either of king or people,\nadvances. He has shown that the Reformation, instead of founding or\naiding liberty, has interrupted it, and prevented the development\nof the germs of free institutions deposited in society during the\nmuch-maligned and little-understood middle ages. Protestantism,\neven when, as in our own time, professing to labor for liberty,\nonly falsifies it, and interposes insurmountable obstacles to\nits realization. Protestantism--and we have studied it both as a\nProtestant and as a Catholic--is made up of false pretences; is, as\nCarlyle would say, an unveracity, and loses not only the eternal\nworld, but also this present world. The Divine Thought after which\nthe universe is created and governed is one and catholic, and the law\nby which we gain our final end is one and holy; and without obedience\nto it there is no good possible, here or hereafter, either for\nsociety or for the individual. The present can have its fulfilment\nonly in the future, and the temporal has its origin, medium, and end\nonly in the spiritual, and finds its true support as its true law\nonly in the one eternal law of God, the universal Lawgiver, declared\nand applied by the one Holy Catholic Church, which he himself\nhas instituted for that purpose, and which is his body, which he\nanimates, and in which he dwells, teaches, and governs.\n\nIt remains for us to consider the respective relations of\nProtestantism and Catholicity to religious liberty, or the freedom of\nconscience.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[176] _De l'Avenir du Protestantisme et du Catholicisme._ Par M.\nl'Abb\u00e9 F. Martin. Paris: Tobra et Haton. 1869. 8vo, pp. 608.\n\n\n\n\nUNTYING GORDIAN KNOTS.\n\n\nVI.\n\nGeorge Holston was wandering thoughtfully back and forward in his\nwriting-room, in a listless way, unusual in a man of his active\ntemperament. An ardent sight-seer, a student of the politics of\nall countries, a visitor of every kind of institution for the\namelioration of every kind of difficulty he gave little time to\nlounging. Pausing at last before one of the windows looking out on\nthe garden, his attention became fixed, and an expression at once of\ndispleasure and of amusement came over his face.\n\nUnder the tree sat Lady Sackvil, half reclining on a garden chair;\nbefore her stood Vane, answering her indifferent words with eager\ninterest, his expressive face full of enthusiasm. Whatever his\narguments were, they took effect, to judge by the change which\ngradually mastered her; rousing her from the careless posture to one\nof attention, drawing her eyes from the flower she had been idly\npulling to pieces, to meet his earnest gaze. Whatever the question\nmight be, he had conquered, and was gazing at her beautiful upturned\nface with a look of enchantment.\n\n\"Confound it!\" muttered George. \"What would I give to banish her\nto the coast of Guinea this very moment! Enough to evangelize the\nnatives, if money would do it.\" He resumed his desultory walk and\nhis meditations. \"That idiot is going to destruction for the lack of\nsomething to do. No more in love with her than I am; just idleness\nand a love of excitement.\"\n\nGoing to his desk, he took out a letter written in copying-ink, and\nbearing date of three weeks back.\n\n\"I've scotched the snake, at least, with this,\" he said aloud, and\nsat down to a re-perusal of the epistle. It was as follows:\n\n     \"DEAR EVANS: I see by the newspapers that three officers of the\n     U. S. A. have been appointed to visit the Crimea, and study\n     the position and progress of affairs in the French and English\n     armies. You will oblige me extremely by going to General Scott, on\n     receipt of this, and asking him, in my name, to obtain a fourth\n     appointment in the person of Captain Vane, of the --th Cavalry, U.\n     S. A., subject to Vane's approval. For several reasons, too long\n     to explain, I do not mention this plan to him before writing; but\n     I have no doubt that he will jump at the proposal when it comes.\n     The general and the secretary of war will need no explanations.\n     They know that Vane has been on the sick-list for wounds received\n     in frontier service, and they are much interested in him and\n     his family; therefore no apologies are necessary for making the\n     proposal.\n\n     \"Vane is a constant and serious student of military matters,\n     and no man is more likely than he to make a good use of such an\n     opportunity.\n\n     \"If objections are made on the grounds of extra pay, you may say\n     that no such increase is necessary, as Captain Vane has a large\n     private fortune.\n\n     \"Hoping soon to have a chance to reciprocate the kindness I ask of\n     you, my dear Evans, I am\n\n         \"Yours always truly,\n\n                                 \"GEORGE HOLSTON.\"\n\nGeorge put away the letter and went to the window.\n\n\"If I had asked his leave before doing this, he would have been\ntoo weak to grant it, hampered as he is by this renewal of old\nassociations. By the time the appointment gets here, he will be\nthankful to find some way of escape from his own folly open to him. A\nfool he is--a traitor he is not.\"\n\nThen, casting a glance out of the window, as he passed before it to\ntake down a volume from a bookcase, he said softly, \"Poor Mary! the\ntruest, noblest woman that ever married an idiot!\"\n\nGeorge Holston might well say \"poor Mary!\" He had not been the\nonly witness of the interview in the garden. This was the day of\nMrs. Vane's first visit to the _primo piano_ since her illness.\nShe had come in a young mother's glory, bringing little Georgina\nin her christening dress to see her godmother. While Mrs. Holston\nwas tending the baby, Mary stood at the window, playing with a\ncurtain-tassel and watching her husband and Lady Sackvil. She saw him\ngive Amelia the oleander she pulled to pieces, saw her grow eager\nand interested as he talked to her, stood transfixed to see the\nintensity with which he followed up his advantage; and then, suddenly\nrecollecting herself, turned away, thinking bitterly, \"I will not spy\nupon him.\"\n\n\"What is the matter, dear?\" asked Mrs. Holston anxiously. \"You were\nlooking so well when you came in, and now you are as white as a\nhandkerchief. Are you faint? Debby, ring the bell, and I will send\nfor some wine.\"\n\n\"Oh! please not,\" said Mary, putting her hand to her head. \"I'm well\nenough, only so very tired. This is my first visit, you know,\" she\nadded, laughing faintly, \"and the excitement is too much for me. I\nwill leave the baby with you, and nurse can bring her to me when\nyou are tired of her. No, don't come, Debby; I shall be better for\nresting a little while.\"\n\nAnd lying quietly on the couch in her own room, the bitter conviction\ncame to her, that what she had seen that day stung her so deeply only\nbecause it confirmed doubts crushed out of sight. Doubts? Certainty\nit was now, that she was no longer her husband's chosen companion.\nStartled by his anger when her first groundless jealousy betrayed\nitself on the day of Lady Sackvil's arrival, she had smothered every\nsucceeding pang. Her uneasiness had come from no lack of kindness\non her husband's part. He had been, if possible, more attentive\nduring her illness than she had expected. But to her, who had been\nhis exclusive confidant, the one chosen sympathizer in all hopes and\nprojects, the charm had gone. It was evident that he needed more\nexcitement than her companionship afforded, that he came to her from\na sense of duty, not for pleasure. She had been too loyal to question\nor doubt until this afternoon, when an accident had given the proofs\nshe would have refused to seek. Now she was too clear-sighted to\nwithhold belief. Lady Sackvil stood between her and her husband.\n\nShe was too completely stunned, too grieved and wounded, to look\nbeyond the present shock, to question the hopelessness of her\nsituation. Above the couch hung an ivory crucifix yellow with age.\nNicholas had found it in some curiosity-shop near the Rialto, and\nbrought it to her. She took it down and looked at it, not only\nreverently but curiously, wondering whose agony it had soothed; if\never any one had pressed it to a heart so wronged and tortured as\nhers; if it were yellowed by the tears shed upon it, as well as by\nage. \"You will be yellow as gold before my eyes have cried themselves\nout,\" she thought, and longed for the relief of tears. Her thoughts\nwere so thick, so hopelessly thick and inextricable! Afraid of\nrevealing her sufferings if she should go to dinner, she went to bed\nwith a furious headache. The baby, sharing its mother's discomposure,\nwept and wailed, as babies always do when quiet is most desirable.\nNicholas dined alone, spent an hour in his wife's room in the kindest\nmanner, putting cold water on her head, and ice to her heart at\nthe same moment. At last, believing her to be asleep, he went down\nto spend the evening with the Holstons; leaving her to be regaled\nwith distant sounds of playing and singing, and to be racked by\nthe conviction that a trial had fallen upon her with which she was\nutterly incapable of coping.\n\nA night-light burned in the corner of the room, giving a faint\nsuggestion of surrounding objects. Through the half-open nursery-door\ncame the sound of Deborah lulling the baby to sleep with old songs\nand moral axioms. There was something soothing in the half-light and\nsubdued tones which tended to restore the quivering nerves to their\nbalance. Mary sat up in bed and tried to collect her ideas. What\nwas the first thing to be done? The exact reverse of what she had\ndone that evening, at all events. She had made the baby fretful, and\ndriven Nicholas into the very temptation she most dreaded for him.\n\nThe first and immediate step to be taken was to conquer the nervous\nprostration which bound her. All was now quiet in the nursery. She\nrang her hand-bell softly, bringing Deborah to the nursery-door with\nthe inseparable roll of violet-perfumed flannel in her arms.\n\n\"Put baby down by me, nurse, and give me some valerian; there's a\ngood soul.\"\n\nThen she lay down to contemplate the baby and let the sedative\nwork. Her thoughts turned to a few words of fatherly advice from\nher old friend, Padre Giulio, when she had mentioned with bitter\nself-upbraiding in confession, two months before, her momentary\nparoxysm of jealousy. \"In five cases out of ten,\" he had said, \"an\ninjured wife holds her fate in her own hands. She must prove to her\nhusband that she is better worth loving than any other woman in the\nworld. She should speak of her wrongs to no one if she can possibly\nbear them in silence. Each confidant of these delicate matters may\nbecome a new obstacle to reconciliation. Loyalty is most important\nbetween married persons. So much for jealous wives, my daughter; and\nGod grant that you may never have occasion to remember what I have\nsaid!\" And now the occasion had come!\n\n\"O God!\" she prayed, \"make me very lovely in his eyes. I don't ask it\nfor vanity's sake, but for his honor and mine. I thank you, from the\ndepths of my heart, that it is best for him and for me, and for your\ndivine glory, that he should love me more than any other creature.\nBut accomplish this, dear Lord, by making him love you best of all.\"\nThen she fell asleep, lulled by the soft breathing of the sleeping\ninfant.\n\nShe was waked by hearing Nicholas come gently into the room.\n\n\"I am sorry I roused you,\" he said. \"But I longed to know if you were\nrelieved.\"\n\n\"I am much better,\" she answered cordially. \"Thank you for coming to\ninquire. Have you had a pleasant evening?\"\n\n\"Quite pleasant,\" he replied absently. \"Did the piano disturb you?\"\n\n\"Only just at first. I got through the evening very comfortably, and\nexpect to be bright and well by to-morrow. Kiss me, darling.\"\n\n\"Good night, Mary. God bless you!\"\n\nWhen he had left her, she took the ancient crucifix again in her\nhands, and kissed the five wounds silently. There is no better\nprayer. It is the prayer of conquered self; the acceptance of our\nsufferings in union with those of Christ.\n\n\"I must get well and be his second guardian angel,\" she said.\n\nVane spent half the night in studying and reading. Once he said out\nloud, \"God help me through it!\" Then came the thought, \"How dare I\nask for help, when I myself have sought temptation? Oh! if Mary would\nonly get well and be my better self once more. What did she say once\nabout the inefficacy of vicarious goodness?\"\n\n\nVII.\n\n\"May I come in?\" asked Mary at the door of Lady Sackvil's music-room.\n\n\"By all means. I am going to play something for George and Flossy\nthat will fascinate your maternal fancy.\" And with the little boy and\ngirl on either side, she played the _Scenes from Childhood_, with\nlittle paraphrases of explanation full of merriment or pathos, as\nthe case might be. The children were bewitched. Mary looked at her\nlovely face, her tasteful dress, her graceful though rather large\nhands, moving on the piano as in a native element; she listened to\nher exquisitely sympathetic playing, to her charming talk with the\nchildren, and a sense of despair came over her.\n\n\"How can I win him back?\" she thought. \"O God! it is so hard to bear,\njust because I am not handsome or clever. Surely my love, my fidelity\nmust be more beautiful than her beauty, if he could only see clearly.\nIt is useless for me to compete with this exquisite creature on any\nnatural grounds. And yet, how strange it all is! I don't suppose\nhe is the most attractive man in existence; and yet, it would no\nmore occur to me to measure him with other men than if he were an\narchangel.\"\n\nLady Sackvil was singing now--little songs for children, by Taubert,\ncradle songs, and _Volkslieder_. George and Flossy were twins, and\nthis was their birthday. \"Aunt Milly\" was as much bent on fascinating\nher juvenile audience as any _prima donna_ in a royal theatre. She\nhad not much voice; but her singing had the same sympathetic quality\nwhich made her playing delight every one, learned or unlearned. Those\nwho were incapable of appreciating her sound musical training, her\nclever interpretation of the best compositions, her freedom from\nmannerism, whether pedantry or sentimentality, could derive pleasure\nfrom her delicious touch and the indefinable grace of her playing.\n\nAfter a while Mrs. Holston and Captain Vane joined the audience.\nMary glanced involuntarily at Lady Sackvil, and saw a rosy flush\nsuffuse cheek and brow and neck. She passed on from song to song\nwithout leaving the piano; but she was singing for grown people now,\nand the children felt it. Mary made a sign to them to come to her,\nand gave them the presents she had prepared for the great day so\nlong anticipated. Mere trifles they were--a suit of doll's furs for\nFlossy, a box of colored crayons for George--but it was quite enough\nto restore the birthday equanimity.\n\nVane had noticed the little scene, and Mary saw his eyes rest upon\nher with a tenderness she had missed for many weeks. When Lady\nSackvil stopped singing, he rose rather abruptly and returned her\ngreeting with a certain coldness. Then turning to his wife, he said,\n\"I have been looking for you everywhere. Can you come up-stairs with\nme now?\"\n\nMary was nearer happiness than she had thought to be again. At least\nhe was trying to do right.\n\n\nVIII.\n\nLADY SACKVIL'S JOURNAL.\n\nI wonder what sin is? Some people would say I ought to know; but\nI do not. We are born with inclinations, affections, passions\nwhich disappear or develop according to circumstances. We are not\nto be praised if they disappear; we are not to be blamed if they\ndevelop. Religionists make sins and virtues to suit themselves, and\nform thereon a moral code. If they really believe in a merciful,\nthoughtful Creator, a tender Redeemer, who has lived to exemplify\nthese virtues and died to atone for these sins, of course they\ndo right to bow to his will. I do not believe there is a God who\ninterests himself in our virtues or vices, so-called. I know that I\nmyself am the creature of necessity, and I mean to prove this for my\nown satisfaction by a review of my career.\n\nI was educated by my poor Aunt Louisa, who taught me to call myself a\nCatholic and behave like a pagan. Was that my fault? She never, to my\nknowledge, acted from a disinterested motive. She never taught me to\nobey any thing but my own will--except hers, when our wills crossed.\nThis was very seldom; for we, both of us, wanted simply the greatest\namount of worldly enjoyment that was to be had, for asking, in my\ncase, and scheming, in hers. Was that my fault? I loved Nicholas\nVane, who was a tyrant. Just when his tyranny weighed too heavily\nto be borne, Lord Sackvil appeared. He suited me. His position\ncorresponded to the dreams my aunt had nursed in me from childhood.\nCircumstances conquered me. Vane accused me of flirting, and broke\noff our private engagement. Aunt Louisa besought me to accept an\noffer which would realize her fondest hopes for me. I yielded, and\nmarried Sackvil, and never dreamed of regretting the step. He was\nthe kindest and most indulgent of husbands, and sympathized with\nall my tastes. But here again any religious tendencies I might have\nhad remained unnourished. Educated a Catholic, he never practised\nhis religion. People think me obstinate; on the contrary, I am led\ncompletely by others--_when it suits me_. What of that? How could it\nbe otherwise, with my training? I am the victim of circumstances.\nAs I had no children, Sackvil House passed to a distant relation of\nmy husband. I was left singularly alone in the world. My one near\nrelative living in Venice, I naturally came to her, after leading a\nwandering life in Germany for two years. Who should be living in the\nsame house and on terms of closest intimacy with my sister's family\nbut Captain Vane? Was that my fault? I did not know the fact. Flora\nknows nothing of our engagement; indeed, no one knew of it except\nAunt Louisa, and, probably, George Holston. I fully intended to\ncultivate Mrs. Vane intimately. In the first place, however, she is\nnot inclined to intimacy. Though very young, she has a reserve and\nindependence of character which would make friendship a matter of\nslow growth with her. In the second place, she has been ill or ailing\never since I came here. Is that my fault? Is it my fault that at\nthirty I am prettier than ever before in my life; that I have a trick\nof fascinating people; that I play and sing like--like--like a fallen\nangel? This is conceit, or pride, or vanity, I suppose. No, it is\nnot. It is a recognition of facts. If I were ugly or unattractive, I\nshould recognize the fact and poison myself. Is it my fault that Vane\nis morally weak, as the term goes? That is to say, that his personal\nwishes weigh more heavily upon him than the force of tradition? Is\nit my fault that, with the energy, the ambition, and the intellectual\ntastes of a man, I am bound by worldly maxims within limits which\nrestrict all growth except spiritual growth?\n\nI wonder what would make a Christian of me? This one\nexperience--hypothetical, of course: the sight, the close, intimate\nperception of a purely disinterested soul; of one who, tested in the\nsorest manner, should act according to principles formed in a time\nof peace and security. I am a pagan from having seen people behave\nlike pagans, no matter what they professed. The antidote must be\nadapted to the poison. Is a cure to be desired? I imagine not. A\nChristian life would entail great discomfort; for be it known that\nif ever I am a Christian I will be a genuine one. My difficulties\nare not metaphysical. I could just as easily believe one thing as\nanother; indeed, the more the better, if there is any believing to\nbe done. I am inclined to suppose that the Catholic Church will have\nthe honor to reclaim me, if ever I am reclaimed. It is the oldest,\nwidest, strongest, and it demands more of its adherents than any\nother church. Besides, if ever I find my disinterested Christian, it\nwill probably be in the Catholic Church--a soul bred upon works of\nsupererogation and a thirst after perfection.\n\n\nIX.\n\nMary was reading in her morning room when Lady Sackvil was announced.\n\"Ask her to come in here,\" she said with her lips; and in her heart\nprayed, \"Help me to do and say the right thing.\"\n\nLady Sackvil came in very softly, seeing the little basket-cradle\nwith drawn curtains beside the mother's chair, and said in a low\ntone, \"Thank you very much for admitting me to your own room.\"\n\n\"We need not speak low,\" Mary said; \"poor little Georgina has had to\nlearn to sleep under all circumstances. I knew it was useless to try\nto make Captain Vane whisper, and I wanted him to come here freely\nwhen the child was with me; so I have made her a philosopher early in\nlife, superior to outward influences.\"\n\n\"She will be the first person that ever was superior to\ncircumstances, I fancy,\" remarked Lady Sackvil; and added after a\nmoment's pause, \"my belief is, that our characters are completely\ncontrolled by outward influences. They have regulated mine, I know.\"\n\nMary took up a stole she was embroidering in bullion, and arranged\nthe sewing materials accurately before answering. Amelia's mere\npresence irritated her, and the off-hand manner in which her\nladyship settled questions aroused in her a spirit of opposition.\nIt was in an unruffled tone, however, that she answered, \"Of course\nthey have a great deal to do with the formation of character;\nbut not every thing. I used to hear a good deal of talk on the\nsubject in my father's library. An intimate friend of his was a\nnecessitarian--that's the term, is it not?--and used to bring forward\nmany clever arguments in support of his theory.\"\n\n\"And convinced you?\" asked Amelia with interest.\n\n\"Not at all. He worried me a good deal at first. I remember that\nhe generally chose Sunday evenings for the discussion, and Sunday\nevening has ever since been uncomfortably associated in my mind with\nnecessity and free-will.\"\n\n\"I cannot fancy on what grounds his opinion could be combated,\" said\nLady Sackvil.\n\n\"Neither did I at first. It is easier to argue in favor of necessity\nthan of free-will. The theory rests upon tangible facts, evident even\nto superficial observers. The truth rests largely upon supernatural\nfacts, too subtle to be fully appreciated except through personal\nexperience.\"\n\n\"May I ask how you satisfied yourself?\" asked Amelia with the\nfaintest shade of contempt in her voice. She was feeling \"out of\nsorts,\" and controversy suited the mood of the moment better than\nordinary conversation.\n\nMary renewed the gold thread in her needle and the patience in\nher soul, and then answered, \"By reading the lives of the saints,\nand especially of holy penitents. I became satisfied that even if\nordinary souls are controlled by circumstances, (though even that\npoint I did not concede,) the development of the saints has often\nbeen not only independent of circumstances, but inconsistent with\nthem. Women, enslaved by vanity or passion, breaking through every\nbond and trampling on temptation to embrace a life of penance at\nwhich flesh trembles! Men, enthralled by false philosophy, becoming\nlittle children in faith and simplicity! I knew that this could not\nbe the result of circumstances. Then carrying the investigation into\nmy own moral experience, I found that even I could be noble under the\nsame circumstances where I had been petty. I do not attempt to speak\nphilosophically. I argue from practical facts.\"\n\n\"If I placed much faith in the lives of saints, perhaps we might\nthink alike,\" answered Amelia; \"but most of them are quite mythical,\nno doubt.\"\n\n\"The lives of St. Augustine, St. Jerome, and many more are as\nwell authenticated as the Norman conquest,\" Mary said; \"and those\nwhose careers are most mysterious experienced nothing which is\nincomprehensible to any one who studies interior life, and knows the\ncapacities of his own soul for receiving supernatural graces.\"\n\n\"The capacities of _my_ soul are extremely limited, I think,\" replied\nLady Sackvil. \"Like you, I found my impressions on practical facts,\nnot on metaphysics; so that our argument is at an end, I suppose.\"\n\n\"Apparently,\" said Mary good-humoredly. \"I've not heard the piano\nlately. Why is that?\"\n\n\"I am tired to death of playing,\" said Lady Sackvil; \"at times it is\nan unutterable bore. For a composer it is, of course, different. The\nexercise of the creative faculty must be simply rapture; but mere\ninterpretation palls frightfully at times.\"\n\n\"Is there no new music to interest you?\"\n\n\"Very seldom. I am familiar with the whole range of musical\nliterature. Don't look at me as if I were a wonder. It's no great\nthing for a well-trained musician to say. Musical literature, as\ncompared with the world of books, is very limited. The present age is\nidle and unproductive; and so there come times when I shut the piano\nand feel that my 'occupation's gone.'\"\n\nShe rose, and going gently to the cradle, knelt down beside it to\nwatch the sleeping child. A tenderness came over her face, before so\nfull of weariness and pain.\n\n\"I would have been a different woman if I had been a mother,\" she\nsaid, looking up at Mary with tears in her eyes. \"Love of children\nand vanity are the only traits I have,\" she added, smiling sadly.\n\nMary made no answer, but looked at the tossed, selfish, whimsical\nbeing before her with an interest she had not felt hitherto.\n\n\"Isn't it heavenly sweet to have a child?\" asked Amelia; \"to hold\nthat creature close to you, and feel that it is your own as your\nheart is your own?\"\n\n\"Yes, it is heavenly sweet,\" answered Mary, bending over the baby,\nwho just then opened her violet eyes. The mother took the little\ncreature into her arms and kissed her softly. \"It _is_ heavenly\nsweet,\" she repeated.\n\nLady Sackvil drew down her veil and rose to go. \"Good-by,\" she said\nhuskily. \"Don't think that I usually make such eccentric morning\ncalls.\" And was gone before Mary could ring for a servant to open the\ndoor.\n\n    TO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\n\n\nCHURCH MUSIC.\n\nIII.\n\n\nWe have one question to ask of such of our readers who have taken\nthe trouble to read our former articles on the subject of church\nmusic. Is it not a false tradition that the music in our churches\nexhibits the character of a musical concert performed during Mass,\nor replacing the office of Vespers? One thing is certain--it is\na Protestant tradition, an Anglo-Saxon Protestant tradition.\nAlthough we owe the \"classical masses\" chiefly to German and Italian\ncomposers, the style of the performance, the _mat\u00e9riel_ of the choir,\nand the _choir-gallery_ are the offspring of the \"chapel\" and the\n\"conventicle.\" It has doubtless been observed that we have been\narguing for a twofold reform in this matter: firstly, in the music,\nand secondly, in its performance. We use the word reform in its\nproper sense, and desire by our remarks to call our brethren back to\nthe old paths of the Holy Church, not to introduce some new fashion\nin doctrine or devotion. We would renovate, not innovate. We have\nbeen too long deprived of that spiritual food which is so abundantly\nsupplied by the sacred offices of the Church. Protestantism has given\nus nothing but husks to eat, and we confess to being hungry. By the\ndefection of England and the greater part of Germany, we were robbed\nof our holy sanctuaries, and in our poverty have been forced to\ncontent ourselves with buildings to which, indeed, we give the name\nof churches, but which are nothing better than convenient shelters\nfor an altar crowded to its very steps by the people. The new-fangled\ndoctrine drove out our monks, and perverted the devout clerics who\nonce filled the stalls of real _choirs_, and whose duty and glory it\nwas to sing the divine office. When the novel worship that replaced\nthe Holy Sacrifice built new tabernacles for its meagre and unmeaning\nrites, it invented the _singing-gallery_ and the modern _choir_,\nall-sufficing, we acknowledge, for the Anglican \"common prayer,\" and\n\"worship\" after the Presbyterian, Methodist, Baptist, and other such\nmodes, but wholly out of place in a Catholic church, and totally\ninadequate for the holy offices of our religion.\n\nSurely there is no one who will not heartily agree with us that we\nneed a thorough reform, in this respect, in our church architecture.\nWe build chapels, but not churches. The place for the altar is in\nthe Choir, an inclosure specially set apart for the sacred ministers\nand the singers, who at the public functions form one officiating\nbody. We have followed the example of Protestants, and made use of\nthe pencil of the Protestant architect; and the result is, that if\nthe gates of hell ever incited another \"glorious reformation,\" like\nthat of the sixteenth century, the new reformers would have the\nadvantage over the first in finding churches not only ready made, but\nadmirably adapted to their requirements, the change of altar into\npulpit, should the new doctrine need such an appurtenance in its\nmeeting-houses, being a matter of small expense. They would not be\nput to their wits to know what to do with our choirs \"of mysterious\ndepth,\" as of yore, but would find an appropriate gallery for their\nhired singers, already fitted up, with its abominable rood-screen of\ngreen curtains over the doorways. We have heard our holy rites and\nceremonies nicknamed as the \"rags of popery.\" What has Protestantism\ndone but to rend the \"rags\" into tatters?\n\nNor are we ready to admit the poverty of our resources as a full\njustification of our imitation of Protestant service in the style of\nour sacred music and its performance. Throughout the continent of\nEurope, where Protestant influences have not been at work, there are\ncountless country churches of small size, but not one is without its\nsanctuary choir; and the people would as soon think of putting their\nrobed priests into dress-coat and pantaloons as of banishing their\nsurpliced chanters from the sanctuary, and erecting a choir-gallery\nbehind their backs. We bring no railing accusation. We deprecate that\nstyle of argument which is successful only in provoking opposition;\nbut are endeavoring, with no end in view save the glory of God and\nthe honor of religion, to put in a plain light the causes of our\ndeparture from the common authorized usages of the church; usages to\nwhich the want of conformity will always be the measure of the loss\nof faith and devotion.\n\nOur controversialists have been arguing against the false doctrines\nof Protestantism, and have done their work in a masterly and\neffective manner. If ever there was a dead doctrine awaiting burial,\nit is Protestantism. Now let us turn our attention to its false\ntraditions, possessing more vitality because they have obtained a\nsort of parasitical subsistence through our partial admission of\ntheir encroachments. We mean that the \"choir-gallery\" is, both in its\nentity and object, a parasite of Protestant tradition clinging to our\nholy temples, disfiguring their fair proportions and spiritually\ncramping the growth of liturgical devotion, destroying its charm, and\nstifling its inspirations.\n\nWe propose to get rid of this piece of uncatholic tradition; to\nlocate the singers in the place prescribed by the ritual, and abolish\nthe musical concert. We desire to see the distinct decrees of the\nChurch carried out to the letter, which require the divine office to\nbe sung, as well as the Mass to be said, in the sanctuary, before the\npeople, and not behind them. We have already alluded to the efforts\nmade in England to bring this matter into perfect conformity with the\nritual. His Grace the Archbishop of Westminster has forbidden any new\nchurch to be opened unless there is provision made for a _sanctuary\nchoir_; and the cardinal vicar, in his instruction of November\n18th, 1856, after administering a severe reprimand for the want of\nobservance of regulations made in former instructions, prescribes,\namong other things, that galleries for singers shall not be placed\nover the doors of churches. Evidently the good cardinal has not only\nstudied rubrics, but the science of acoustics as well. An elevated\ngallery near the ceiling is a wretched place for singers, and not\nmuch better for an organ. Ask any organ-builder whether he would\nnot much prefer placing his instrument on the floor of the church,\nto hiding it away in some loft or second-story alcove in a tower.\nThe impropriety is so glaring, and the arrangement is at once so\nincongruous and unartistic, that we deem further discussion on this\npoint useless. The able writer in _The Dublin Review_, whom we have\nalready quoted, very pertinently remarks:\n\n     \"In this respect we have been equally out of harmony with\n     ecclesiastical tradition and practice; and if we are to save\n     ourselves from disappointment with our choristers, we must\n     make up our minds to give them the advantage of all the sacred\n     associations which that system provides. In other words, we must\n     substitute a proper choral arrangement in connection with the\n     sanctuary for that now prevailing, and with which so many abuses\n     are unhappily connected. There need, we think, be no practical\n     difficulty about this, and we would suggest it as a matter worthy\n     of serious consideration by our clergy and Catholic architects\n     who are about to build or restore churches. The time is surely\n     gone by for the stereotyped plan of an east end with an altar\n     under a large window, flanked by a smaller altar on either side,\n     involving, besides other inconveniences, the impossibility of\n     making any provision for the proper choral arrangements. Several\n     instances might be adduced of churches recently erected in\n     which the beautiful and convenient feature of side altars has\n     been introduced, thus allowing the choir to occupy their proper\n     place--the organ, of course, being placed at the side, and ample\n     space being still left for the sanctuary proper. We should say\n     that, even in cases where boys cannot be at once procured for the\n     choir, it is very unadvisable to plan a building in such a way as\n     to preclude a proper arrangement afterward.\"\n\nHave we any objections to urge against coming into harmony with\necclesiastical tradition and practice in this matter? A friend at our\nside urges one, doubtless in the mind of many of our readers: Then\nyou would banish all female voices from our choirs?\n\nWe will allow a much better authority than ourselves to answer for\nus. The following extract is from a decree of the Provincial Synod of\nHolland, held at Utrecht, and highly commended by the Holy Father:\n\n     \"In the same way as the object of church music is quite frustrated\n     when it is of such a character as only to gratify the ears with\n     vain pleasures, so, too, the dignity of divine worship is not\n     preserved unless the singers also are such as to beseem the\n     church. Women's voices are not admitted by ecclesiastical usage\n     into the choir of singers, since the rules of divine worship\n     and the dignity of ecclesiastical music evidently require their\n     exclusion. For in the same way as they are withheld from all\n     share in the ministry of the holy liturgy, so also every thing\n     effeminate ought to be quite excluded from church singing; and\n     hence the presence of women in an ecclesiastical choir is opposed\n     to the very sense of the faithful. Therefore, we decree and order\n     that women be altogether excluded from the choir of singers,\n     unless in the churches or chapels of nuns. And if hereafter, in\n     violation of this injunction of this Provincial Synod, women be\n     employed in any church as singers or organists, let the rectors\n     of those churches be aware that they will have to render a most\n     strict account to the ordinary for such an infraction of the law.\"\n     (Syn. Prov. Ultrajectan., tit. 5, cap. 6.)\n\nAnd again:\n\n     \"The tradition of the church in excluding women from choirs is so\n     universal and inflexible that it is not easy to understand how it\n     should have been so widely forgotten in this country. I can only\n     conceive that the confusion of all things under the penal laws,\n     the shattered and informal state of the church in England after\n     its emancipation, our poverty, not only of money, but of culture\n     to do better; and, finally, the force of custom in rendering\n     us insensible to many anomalies, have been the real causes of\n     our ever admitting, and of our so long passively tolerating, so\n     visible a deviation from the tradition and mind of the Church. It\n     is strange that you should have to argue a case which the Church\n     has decided.\" (Letter of Archbishop Manning to Canon Oakeley.)\n\nThe argument of the very reverend canon, to which his grace alludes,\ncontains much that would interest our readers, but our space does not\npermit us to give it entire. We cannot refrain, however, from making\na short quotation:\n\n     \"That a choir of male voices is actually that provision for\n     the solemn celebration of divine worship which the Church\n     contemplates, to the exclusion of every other, is, I think, a\n     fact which cannot reasonably be disputed. The Church no more\n     recognizes female choristers than female sacristans, though she\n     may tolerate either in case of necessity. The single exception\n     to the rule is in convents, for obvious reasons. According to\n     the ancient arrangement of churches, the choir is immediately\n     connected with the sanctuary; and those who take part in it are\n     most appropriately habited as clerics. The circumstances of modern\n     times have led to some deviation from this practice, so far as it\n     depends upon the architectural arrangements of our churches; but\n     even where the choir is detached from the sanctuary, the ancient\n     and universal rule of the Church which excludes females (probably\n     in accordance with apostolical tradition) from taking, any active\n     and ministerial part in divine worship, is still rigidly observed.\n     Not only in Rome, but in countries which retain certain national\n     peculiarities in the sacred administration of the Church, such\n     as France and Belgium, the practice of employing females in the\n     musical department of divine worship is, I believe, unknown. It\n     is almost entirely confined to those countries, such as Great\n     Britain, parts of Germany, and the United States of America, in\n     which Protestantism prevails and produces a certain impression on\n     the outward aspect even of the Church herself. In our own country\n     the type of the ancient worship, which has been innovated on among\n     ourselves, is preserved in the national cathedrals, in which the\n     large endowments derived from Catholic munificence enable the\n     present usurpers to represent the true ecclesiastical form of\n     the choral service with a facility which is denied to those to\n     whom it belongs by undisputed inheritance. Meanwhile, this type\n     had till recently suffered considerable decay among ourselves.\n     Dethroned from our rightful position, we had in this, as in other\n     far more important respects, fallen in with the ways of the sects\n     around us. But the revival of the ecclesiastical spirit which\n     has come in with the events of the last few years, has brought\n     home to us some of the anomalies which had grown up in the day of\n     our depression, while increased communication with the continent\n     has tended to bring our external worship into more and more of\n     union with general practice. It is hardly necessary to observe\n     that the admission of females into the church choir is absolutely\n     fatal to the retention of the proper cathedral type of worship,\n     while in parish churches it is sometimes productive of obvious\n     evils, and even in the best regulated administrations is adverse\n     to the spirit which should animate every part of divine worship,\n     and especially one so intimately connected with its dignified\n     celebration as that of the choir.\"\n\nIt will be observed that our judgment about the influences of\nProtestant tradition upon our church music has not been made\nunadvisedly.\n\nIn Germany, female singers were introduced into the churches for no\nbetter reason, that we can discover, than to exhibit the musical\ntalent of its great masters. These compositions were not written\nto supply any want for such music felt in the churches, but at the\ninstance and under the patronage of nobles and princes, who vied\nwith each other in giving grand sacred musical feasts in their\nprivate chapels, as _gourmands_ pride themselves on giving costly\nand _recherch\u00e9_ dinners to show off the science of their _chef de\ncuisine_. If we imagine that these musical masses were gotten up to\nexcite greater devotion in the gay and worldly courtiers, we are much\nmistaken. It was, in fact, a nice little bit of cheap luxury, it\nbeing less expensive to keep a private chapel and entertain a private\nchaplain, than to support an opera-house with its company of artists,\nscene-shifters, and hangers-on.\n\nComposers themselves have sought to obtain at least a general\npermission for the singing of their masses from the ecclesiastical\nauthorities, but have invariably been met with a polite expression of\nregret that such application had been presented, as it was entirely\nout of the power, etc., etc. Rossini petitioned the present pope for\npermission to include females in church choirs, but of course without\nsuccess. The report of his own funeral obsequies shows that more\nthought was given to enjoy a rare musical entertainment than to pray\nfor his soul:\n\n     \"The church bore the appearance of a concert-room or theatre.\n     People came in with their hats on, talking and laughing. After\n     each piece of music was sung, their _bravos_ were barely\n     restrained, and more than once applauding cries seemed about to\n     break forth. The majority of the congregation, forgetting both\n     the altar and the corpse of the deceased, turned their faces\n     toward the tribune of the singers, talking in a loud voice, and\n     using their opera-glasses; and this at the very moment of the\n     _elevation_, when the soldiers who served as a guard of honor, at\n     the command of their officer, were falling on their knees. This\n     scandal was deplored not only by religious persons, but even by\n     the true friends of art, because it served once more to prove that\n     such musical solemnities, in this age and in this country, are\n     incompatible with the respect due to the sanctity of churches.\"\n\nIf we might venture to offer a word in justification of the wisdom of\nthe Church in thus wholly excluding women from the ritual offices of\nreligion, we would say that she \"knows what is in man;\" she perfectly\nwell understands all the effects of exterior influences upon the\nhuman mind and heart; that the female voice, when highly cultivated\nor sweet-toned, is alluring and sensual, (we do not mean in a bad\nsense,) and when naturally poor or _pass\u00e9_, is equally repelling and\ndisagreeable. The first cannot be said of the voices of men; nor\nthe second, unless it be in attempts to execute music beyond their\ncompass, or when they distort its sense or expression by vanity or\naffectation.\n\nCanon Oakeley shall sum up for us what we have to say on this head:\n\n     \"Together with the name of 'chapels,' which it may be hoped we\n     are in the way to renounce once for all, let us divest ourselves\n     of all that smacks of the chapel and dissenting system--the pews,\n     the pew-openers, the female sacristans, and the female choristers.\n     One of the principal lessons taught us by our great cardinal was\n     the duty of asserting in all judicious ways the dignity of our\n     true position; and this we can do only by ridding ourselves of\n     sectarian habits, down even to the very fringes of our garment,\n     and associating ourselves in spirit, and in that which forms\n     so especial a test of the ecclesiastical spirit, the external\n     worship of the Church, with the most approved practice of Catholic\n     countries.\"\n\nHaving made up our minds to tear down our Protestant singing-gallery,\nand to make use only of male voices in the singing of Mass and\nVespers, we shall not fear for the decision of the question, What\nkind of music is to be selected? The Gregorian chant, that \"grave,\nsweet, majestic, intellectual music of the Church,\" will defy all\ncompetition. When half the labor and expense has been bestowed upon\nthe true music of the sanctuary as is now lavished on our florid\nconcert music, then will be said to-day what Pope Benedict XIV. said\nso long ago, \"The titillation of figured music is held very cheaply\nby men of religious mind, in comparison with the sweetness of the\nchurch chant.\"\n\nBut the other question, and a very practical one, yet remains:\nHow shall we procure and hold proper singers for such music as is\nproposed, and for such a place as the sacred inclosure about the\naltar? We answer, in the first place, we have already some men\nsingers with voices of good compass and power, who at present sing\nup-stairs beside the organ.\n\n\"What!\" exclaims the friend at our elbow; \"bring our present choir\ndown into the sanctuary? How many priests, do you think, would do\nthat?\"\n\nWe reply to him, that, if the present choir-singers are fit and\nproper persons to be associated with the sacred ministers in the\ncelebration of the divine mysteries, they are just as worthy at one\nend of the church as at the other; and if they are unworthy for any\nreason, they ought not to be allowed to take that part, or exercise\nthat office of dignity in any nook or corner of our sacred temples.\nThis capital point, the personal worthiness as well as the vocal\ncapabilities of our choir-singers, has, it must be confessed, not\nbeen so rigidly insisted on in general as it might have been. Nothing\nappears to our minds more shockingly incongruous than a mixed chorus\nof Catholics, Protestants, and Jews singing the Credo. We remember\nhearing a fine Tantum Ergo sung as a solo at benediction by a Jewess.\nThink of it, a Jewess singing,\n\n    \"Et antiquum documentum\n    Novo cedat ritui\"!\n\nand, in the presence of what she believed to be only a piece of\nbread, adding,\n\n    \"Pr\u00e6stet fides supplementum\n    Sensuum defectui\"!\n\nWe like the language of the Bishop of Langres. In a late pastoral on\nthis subject, he says,\n\n     \"The function of which we speak (singer) is one that deserves\n     respect for its sanctity. For many centuries it was reserved to\n     clerics; and when, afterward, laymen were admitted to assist, it\n     was required that they should, from their good conduct, be worthy\n     to represent the congregation of God's people, and take the lead\n     in this part of their worship; and, above all, it was required\n     that they should understand the dignity of the trust committed\n     to them, and should neglect no preparation necessary to acquit\n     themselves respectably. These laymen hold in the Lord's house the\n     first place after its consecrated ministers; and they should not\n     be allowed to continue in it unless they showed themselves the\n     zealous auxiliaries of the priest who takes the lead in the name\n     of the Church.\"\n\nIf we adhered to the character of the music desired by the Church, we\nshould never be obliged to look elsewhere than to Catholics--to those\nwho will sing from the heart as well as with the lips--for worthy\nauxiliaries of the priest in this devout and sacred office.\n\nThis leads us to consider the selection and the training of\ncompetent and worthy singers. We are aware that the destruction of\nthe Protestant singing-gallery, the restoration of the choir, and\nadoption of the Gregorian music is not so simple a matter of choice\nwith the pastors of churches that it can be effected at once by an\norder issued to the organist, and the provision of cassocks and\nsurplices for as many men as can be paid to wear them and sing the\nmusic which befits such clerically-habited chanters. Such singers as\nwe ought to have for our holy offices are not to be had to-morrow,\neven for money. Nor, even supposing such worthy persons, possessing\nproper vocal acquirements, were to be had by paying for them, would\nthey be able to sing our sacred music in a style that would be even\ntolerable. Gregorian chant is not easy of execution, as some imagine.\nIt needs not only good vocal culture to render its musical phrases\nwith precision, but also no small amount of intellectual and moral\ntraining to give its true expression.\n\nWe say, good vocal culture. By which we must not be understood to\nmean that finished vocalization which distinguishes the professional\nopera-singer, or those few amateurs whose voices of natural sweetness\nand power have received first-class cultivation. All Gregorian music\nis included within an octave and a half, with rare exceptions. Great\ncompass is therefore not required. The first requisite is the ability\nto modulate the different phrases with distinctness and facility.\nThere are few men or boys who could not be taught in a short time\nto acquire this primary qualification of the choir-singer. On this\nhead there is little or no difficulty. But as every one who can\nread English is not able to give a proper _reading_ of Shakespeare,\nso not every one who can sing the gamut or its intervals is able\nto sing the phrases of Gregorian chant. The reader of Shakespeare\nneeds practice in tone, in inflection, in the art of speaking\nwith sublimity, with pathos, with joy, etc. Then he must study\nthe works of the great poet, must master his style, and with much\npainstaking and oft-repeated rehearsals learn to imitate the various\ncharacters, their mode of behavior, and peculiarity of utterance.\nThe holy melodies of the Church possess an admirable variety of\nreligious expression, and share with all her rites and ceremonies in\nthat sacred dramatic form which clothes them with such remarkable\nspiritual power and beauty. It is plain, therefore, that the singer\nmust not only understand what he is singing, but must make a study of\nthe different phrases, in order to discover their true expression.\n\nBut besides all this intellectual attention to and appreciation of\nthe chant, the slightest reflection will show one that a certain\ndegree of moral training is equally requisite. The capital point\nalways to be kept in mind is that the music of the Church is her\ndivine prayer. The devout soul, though endowed with a voice of only\nmedium capacity, will render these prayerful melodies with far\ngreater effect than a first-class artist who sings only from the\nlips, while his heart remains unmoved by the words and the song. We\nare all conscious of the different effect produced upon us by the\nchanting of the _Preface_ and the _Pater_ by different priests. As\na few simple words preached to us by a priest of an interior and\ndevout life will go deeper into our souls, and bring forth greater\nspiritual fruit, than the most brilliant oratory from one of less\nreligious mind, so a devout singer will give to his song a nameless\ncharm, and edify those who listen to him far more than one who is his\nsuperior in musical attainments, but inferior to him in piety. It is\nFather Lallemant, we think, who said, \"An interior man will make more\nimpression on hearts by a single word animated by the Spirit of God,\nthan another by a whole discourse which has cost him much labor, and\nin which he has exhausted all his powers of reasoning.\"\n\nOur argument, therefore, for the restoration of the church music,\nand the banishment of concert music, implies the restoration, as\nwell, of the church singer, and the close of our engagement with the\nconcert artists, or the more wretched substitute of concert amateurs.\nWe are sure that in every congregation in this country it would be\npossible to find a sufficient number of men and boys, possessing all\nthe necessary qualifications, intellectual, moral, and vocal, for\nthe decent and edifying singing of the church offices, who might\nbe prepared after a few weeks' instruction for the duties of the\nchorister. We may be permitted to add, that our opinion is not mere\ntheory, but based upon the observation and experience of many years\nin the practical duties of the ministry, during which the direction\nof the music has generally fallen to our care. If we are not able to\nrefer our readers to a practical illustration of what we assert, it\nis simply because we also, as we said before, have been straitened\nand hampered by this incubus of Protestant tradition. Until we can\nget rid of this, we can do nothing. Until the people, at present\nprofoundly ignorant on this head, learn what constitutes a Catholic\nchoir and where it ought to be located in the church, we shall never\nbe able to get any thing but concert music. They must learn that the\npresent order of things prevalent among us is abnormal, unrecognized\nby the ritual, and quite as foreign to the Catholic standard as would\nbe the preaching of a priest from the pulpit in a citizen's dress. We\nmay be obedient to the strict law of the Church which forbids female\nsingers in choir, and find a sufficient number of men and boys to\ntake their places, who will scramble into the organ-gallery, and,\nunder cover of the curtains, talk, laugh, chew tobacco, eat candy,\ndraw caricatures on the walls and on the covers of the singing-books,\nand sit with crossed legs and chairs tilted backward even during the\nelevation and benediction--all this we will get as of old; but, until\nthe _gallery_ comes down, until the singers are properly vested, and\nmarched with proper ecclesiastical decorum into the sanctuary, or to\nsuch a place as near to it as the present inconvenient arrangement of\nour modern churches will permit, we shall never get a _church choir_.\n\nThis is our first point: let us have male singers who will understand\nfrom the dress and deportment they assume, for the time being, as\nwell as from the position they occupy in the church, that their\noffice as a church singer is a sacred one, of high character, and\nworthy of special respect as being associated officially with the\npriestly celebrations at the altar. No sooner shall we have succeeded\nin teaching the people this true Catholic tradition, than our youth\nwill at once look upon the function of choir-singer as an enviable\nposition, and the effort to make themselves worthy to be thus\nassociated with the clergy in the divine offices will necessarily\ndo much toward elevating their moral tone, and inspiring a devout\nCatholic spirit. We shall, very probably, not obtain all we desire\nat a first trial. Many of those whom we may select will likely\ndisappoint us. This is in the nature of things. It is not every one\nwho is selected as a student for the priesthood that proves to have\na vocation. For ourselves, we apprehend little difficulty if our\nown purpose be well determined, and we give to the whole subject of\nchurch music a little serious study and reflection.\n\nAs to the source from which our churches are to obtain a regular\nsupply of choristers, we frankly speak our mind, and say that\nthe Catholic choir system would appear to involve necessarily\nthe formation of what is known in France as the _maitrise_, or\nchoir-school, in which are admitted boys of good moral character\npossessing sufficient vocal capability, and of a grade of\nintelligence to render it worth while to bestow upon them a more\nrefined education than they might obtain in the ordinary school.\nThis special education given in the choir-school tends not only to\nimprove and elevate the character of the boys, but fits them as well\nto attain a better position in life than they could have hoped for\nwithout it. But this is a subject we can afford to defer to future\nconsideration.\n\nSupposing that we have come to the determination to conform our\nchurch music at once to the true standard, how shall we procure the\nnecessary choristers? Let us see what we need. For large churches,\nor what are large churches to us, there should be at least four\ntrained voices of men--two tenors and two baritones; and not less\nthan twelve boys. These, equally divided on either side of the\nsanctuary, would make a better double chorus than might at first be\nsupposed. The boys can be had for the asking; but the four men will\nnot easily be obtained without a reasonable salary. The advertisement\nfor them should, of course, conclude with the warning, \"None but\npractical Catholics need apply.\" We do not propose to put the cassock\nand surplice upon persons whose very appearance in that garb would\ndisedify the people.\n\nFor this choir we need a competent teacher. Advertise for him, and\nit is not unlikely we shall find such a one, or one who will quickly\nfit himself for that office, in one of the four hired singers. We do\nnot hesitate to say that, even in this great city of New York, there\nare at present very few music teachers who are fully competent to\nteach the proper method of chanting the Vesper psalms alone, not to\nspeak of those other important portions of the divine offices whose\nexpression is more difficult to render. But there is no want that\nis not quickly met with the supply. If we want such a teacher, and\nare willing to pay him, then the subject of the church chant will\nat once engage the attention and study of professors of music whose\nbusiness it is to teach. At this moment it is generally understood\n(and not without reason) by all organists and directors of choirs\nthat our Catholic churches need performers and teachers who can come\nrecommended as well versed in \"the masses,\" as they are called.\n\nAs a consequence, these gentlemen devote all their energies to the\nstudy and practice of such compositions, and to the science of\ndirecting a mixed chorus. We do the musical profession the justice\nof believing its taste to be quite at variance with the taste of\nthe public it serves; and, although we are prepared to see our\nchoir-director shrug his shoulders and return us a wondering look\nwhen we propose our reformation to him, still, when we shall have\ngiven him to understand that we ourselves know what we want, and are\nprepared to count the cost, we feel assured that he will readily come\ninto our views, and enter upon this new field of musical culture\nwith more zest than he has hitherto shown in the conduct of music,\nfor the most part, despicable even in his own eyes. We will engage\nhim to produce church music in first-class church style. We will aid\nhim by causing an organ of sufficient size to be erected near the\nchoristers in the vicinity of the sanctuary. Should he crave for a\nlarger chorus, we will seek out a number of young men, from eighteen\nto twenty-five years of age, whom we have in our eye, whose interest\nwill not fail of being excited in this subject to which we give our\npastoral solicitude, and whose social and moral character we feel\nassured will be benefited by being associated with our regular choir\nas volunteers. If we might be permitted the use of an expressive\nvulgarism, we would say that our young men, as a class, are\n\"spoiling\" for some church work. How many would not feel both honored\nand gratified by an invitation to labor with us in renovating and\nrestoring the grand offices of the Church to their pristine order and\nsublime harmony! We manage to associate together a few of our young\nmen in various confraternities and associations, and drive a few more\ninto the ranks of the society of St. Vincent de Paul; but the greater\nnumber, upon whom depend the future _esprit_ of our church in this\ncountry, and upon whose attachment to all that concerns the dignity\nand devout character of our religious services hang the fortunes\nof our faith, are left unnoticed and unemployed. We propose this\nsubject of the reformation of church music to them as a labor of love\nand true Catholic devotion, worthy of their hearty co\u00f6peration, and\ntending to their own intellectual refinement and moral elevation.\nWe are not wholly unacquainted with the souls of this class of our\nbrethren in the faith, and will answer for the response that will be\nmade to our sentiments by any Catholic young man whose eye may chance\nto fall on these lines.\n\nNow as to the matter of proper church music-books. Speaking as one\nwho has been made wise through suffering, we rejoice at the prospect\nof seeing all our \"Catholic choir-books,\" \"Morning and Evening\nservices,\" and such trash, bundled up and sent to the paper-makers.\nWe are at liberty to state that, while the present Oecumenical\nCouncil may allude only incidentally to the subject of church\nmusic, by confirming the ancient canons made in regard to it, the\nCongregation of Rites is already preparing an authorized version of\nthe Roman Gradual and Vesperal, and that his Holiness will issue a\nbrief in which he will strongly exhort all the bishops to adopt it.\nAs soon as this desire of the head of the Church shall have been\nbrought home to us in the proper way, those whose hands are waiting\ndirection will lose no time in preparing an edition of this work\nin musical notation, and harmonized for the use of organists, an\nimperative need for the great majority of our players and singers, to\nwhom the learning of the plain chant scale and clefs would be a labor\nequal to that of acquiring the knowledge of a foreign language. Our\nchoir-boys, and the generation of choristers who shall succeed them,\ncan be taught the plain chant notation from the first, and will find\nit much simpler, and more expressive in typography, than the modern\nmusical scale, with its varied keys in flats and sharps.\n\nA word as to the comparative cost of the authorized church music and\nthe concert music which now replaces it. It will be seen that we have\nadvised the engagement of four professional singers, and the services\nof a special teacher both for them and the chorus of boys. This\nteacher, in most cases, would be one of the four salaried choristers\nor the organist. It will be seen at once, by those interested, that\neven in the beginning we shall not be put to any greater expense than\nwe are already at for our music. In the matter of music-books there\nwill be an immense saving for those churches which possess a large\nchorus. We ourselves own a musical library which has cost us several\nthousands of dollars; and to tell the honest truth, not one half of\nit is of the least practical use even with the present liberty we\nenjoy (?) of singing what we please. A set of Graduals and Vesperals,\nwith a suitably harmonized version for the use of the organist, will\nsuffice under our new and better _r\u00e9gime_.\n\nWe cannot close this portion of our remarks without calling attention\nto the great boon which this wholesome musical reform will prove to\ncountry churches. In our large cities, we have been able to perform\nin our churches music which is a tolerable imitation of the same\nstyle of harmony as given at the opera and on the boards of the\nconcert-hall to paying audiences. As a rule, we have not charged\nany price of admission to our ecclesiastical concert offices, and\nour second-rate performances have therefore been justly treated\nwith great leniency by the critics. But as you leave the city and\nenter churches in our small towns and country villages, you hear an\nimitation of the city fashion which is no longer tolerable. One must\nhave advanced far into the spiritual ways of devout contemplation\nto endure the horrible cacophony without suffering indescribable\ntortures of soul. Then again, there are numberless village churches\nwhere never a sound of music, profane or religious, is heard. Yet, if\nthese muse-abandoned people were disabused of their ignorant belief\nthat our popular florid music is the only music possible or fit for\nthe Catholic Church, and learned that, even if too poor to purchase\nan organ, they could have with a little study and practice all the\nmusic for the divine offices executed in a devout and decent style,\nit would not be long until the invariable low Mass on all Sundays and\nfestivals, and the recitation of the Rosary in lieu of Vespers, would\nbe a rare exception, instead of being, as it is now, not far from the\nrule. As an example, we confess extraordinary, of the gross ignorance\nof our country people concerning church music, we remember being\ntold by a Catholic woman who had never been out of her own little\nvillage, that one reason why she was certain of the falsehood of the\nProtestant religion was because _they had music and singing in their\nchurches_!\n\nWe do not expect to see our suggestions or opinions accepted without\nquestion or criticism. We are fully aware that we have been arguing\nin the face of inexperience and deep-seated prejudice. We console\nourselves, however, with the thought that what we have decried as\nabnormal, irregular, and inadequate for the music of the Church, is\nin itself so inconsistent, incomplete, and disordered, that it does\nnot deserve even the name of a system. Based upon a false principle,\nthe amusement of an audience, it will ever fail of recognition or\nencouragement at the hands of the holy Church, whose sole object\nproposed in all her divine functions is _prayer_. The faithful come\nto church to pray. A church ought by its very form and interior\ndispositions surround the worshippers with an atmosphere of prayer.\nIt ought to feel like a holy place; and nothing about it should smack\nof the theatre, or the halls of assembly for secular purposes. All\nthat is presented to the gaze of the faithful in these sanctuaries of\nGod, whether it be the ceremonies associated with the Holy Sacrifice\nand other offices, or the statues, pictures, and decorations which\nmeet the eye, ought to be of such a character as to excite the\nspirit of prayer. All this we understand full well. Why, then, are\nwe so dull of hearing that we cannot also distinguish the accents of\nprayer from the sounds which speak of war, of love, of the dance, of\njocularity, and, for those who have ears to hear, of the grossest\nsensuality? Let us disabuse ourselves of the notion that our people\nwish to hear what is popularly styled \"fine music\" in church. It is\na very great mistake. They not only frequent the church services in\nthe special intention to pass the time there in prayer, but also\nheartily desire to have their weary, world-tossed souls helped by\ndecorously performed ceremonies, by good, earnest preaching, and by\ndevout, prayerful music, in awakening in their hearts true religious\nemotion and thoughts of heavenly things.\n\nThis is our sole plea for reform in our music, it being, without\ndoubt, also the \"mind\" of the Church. She is in no sense opposed to\nsecular music, any more than she is to secular painting, sculpture,\nand architecture, unless they be debased and made to minister to\nbase passions. She who sanctifies all that is true and noble in\nhuman nature is far from discouraging or condemning the legitimate\nexpression of those arts which can exert so much power in the\ninstruction, elevation, and refinement of the intellect and heart.\nBut none so wise as she to detect their weakness, and warn society\nagainst the moral evils which result from their prostitution to the\nservice of the devil. One of the destructive faults justly charged\nagainst modern art, and notably of music, is its misapplication. A\nwant of harmony in the relation of an art to the nature and object\nof the thing to be expressed or illustrated by it, is the signal for\nits own enervation and the corruption of what it should purify and\nstrengthen; which is the teaching alike of philosophy and experience.\n\n\"A tale out of time,\" says the wise man, \"is like music in mourning;\"\nand the converse of the proverb, is equally true--\n\n        \"The sweetest strains of music\n    Do but jar upon the soul, and set\n    The very teeth on edge, if but the heart\n    Hath not a mind to hear it.\"\n\nWhence our conclusion. In the house of God, whose \"house shall be\ncalled the house of prayer,\" no other song must be heard but the\nsong of prayer, that melody consecrated to all that we have that\nis highest and holiest, which lifts the soul above the frivolities\nand sensualities of this world and of time, and transports it in\nspirit into the regions of the heavenly, and before the throne of the\nmajesty of the Eternal.\n\n\n\n\nTHE IRON MASK.\n\n\nThis subject, so inexhaustible, so interesting on account of the\nunfathomable mystery that surrounds it, has again been brought to\nour notice by some recent discoveries. Whether they amount to any\nthing or not, remains to be seen; but they are at least singular, and\nmay stimulate the curiosity of the erudite, and even that of simple\namateurs.\n\nA young writer, M. Maurice Topin, so says a contemporary French\npaper, who has obtained a prize of six hundred dollars from the\nFrench Academy for his beautiful book, entitled, _L'Europe et les\nBourbons sous Louis XIV._, has been diving into old papers among the\npublic archives, and says he has at last found out the true name of\nthe unfortunate prisoner of the Iron Mask.\n\nFollowing the advice of his uncle, M. Mignet, he has addressed\na letter to the President of the Academy of Moral and Political\nScience, in which he incloses his secret--sealed, however--and says\nit must not be unsealed without his order.\n\nSo some day soon, perhaps, we shall solve the enigma that has\nperplexed the world for over two centuries.\n\nA monk has lately died, too, somewhere in a French monastery, leaving\npapers testifying that he was the true Iron Mask. Some say he was\nderanged. Perhaps so; and perhaps we would rather such might have\nbeen the case. A real _bona fide_, two-hundred-year-old mystery must\nnot succumb to this practical age of would-be common sense. We could\nnever find such another, so we must content ourselves with reviving\nold facts and eliciting further researches.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nHe who was called, under the reign of Louis XIV., _The Man with\nthe Iron Mask_, was not permitted to wear so pretty a covering as\nthat which preserved the complexion of the Empress Popp\u00e9e; and the\npainters who have represented him with a sort of lowered visor, a\nrampart of iron on his face, have made a great mistake.\n\nThe unknown prisoner, to whom nobody approached, and nobody spoke,\nwore a mask of velvet.\n\nThe question is not decided upon what he wore on his way from the\nIsle Ste. Marguerite to the Bastille. Some say his chin was inclosed\nin a network of steel, to permit him to eat, while the upper part of\nhis face was concealed in the mask of iron.\n\nBut this is a mystery, and his early training no less so.\n\nHe had been incarcerated a long time at Pignerol, the ch\u00e2teau of\nwhich had served for a prison of state, and since 1632 had belonged\nto France. The inhabitants still show a large dismantled tower that\noverlooks the town, and give the tradition concerning the Iron Mask\nand Fouquet, who were here confined.\n\nThey showed the chamber in 1818 that these poor victims inhabited.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAfter the taking of the Bastille, indications of the Iron Mask were\nsought for among the registers of this place of detention; but the\nlargest book of records was sadly torn, and the folio numbered one\nhundred and twenty, coinciding with the year 1698, the epoch of the\nincarceration of the prisoner, had been taken away.\n\nLater, a leaf was discovered among the papers of a former governor,\nand here it is, as historians have given it to us:\n\n\n  +---------------------------------------------------------------------+\n  | Names and qualities | Date of their | Book. Page. | Motive of their |\n  |   of prisoners.     |   entrance.   |             |   detention.    |\n  |---------------------+---------------+-------------+-----------------|\n  | Former prisoner of  | 18th of       | Du Junca,   | Never known.    |\n  |   Pignerol, obliged |   September,  |   vol. 37.  |                 |\n  |   to wear a velvet  |   1698, at    |             |                 |\n  |   mask; his name or |   3 o'clock   |             |                 |\n  |   quality never     |   in the      |             |                 |\n  |   known.            |   afternoon.  |             |                 |\n  +---------------------------------------------------------------------+\n\nThe date of the entrance of the Iron Mask into the Bastille is\npreserved at present in the library of the arsenal; and we read:\n\n     \"Thursday, the 18th of September, 1698, at three o'clock in\n     the afternoon, Monsieur de St. Mars, governor of the Bastille,\n     arrived for the first time from the Isles of Ste. Marguerite and\n     Honorat, bringing with him, in his own litter, an old prisoner\n     he had guarded at Pignerol. His name was not given; he wore a\n     velvet mask; and was first placed in the tower of the Bayim\u00e8re\n     to await the night, when I was to conduct him myself, at nine\n     P.M., into the tower of the Bertandi\u00e8re, to the third-story room\n     which, by order of M. St. Mars, I had completely furnished for his\n     reception. In conducting him to the said room, I was accompanied\n     by M. Rosarges, who was to serve and guard the prisoner at the\n     government expense.\"\n\nHere let me state that Du Junca was not a surname given to the\nprisoner, but the name of the lieutenant of the king at the Bastille.\nThe prisoner was called Marchiali.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe young historian who pretends to have discovered the true name of\nthe Iron Mask has, without doubt, studied all the evidences up to the\ntime of Voltaire, who also knew more than he was willing to impart.\n\nHe knew the story of the silver plate connected with the Isle Ste.\nMarguerite, whose governor was charged by Louis XIV. in person not\nto permit the prisoner to communicate with any one.\n\nSt. Mars waited on him himself, and took the dishes from the cooks at\nthe door of the apartment, so that no one ever saw the face of the\ncaptive.\n\nOne day the Iron Mask threw a silver plate out of the window into the\nwater-course beneath. A fisherman picked it up and brought it back to\nthe governor.\n\n\"Have you read what is written on the bottom of this silver plate?\"\nasked the governor.\n\n\"No, sir,\" replied the fisherman; \"I cannot read.\"\n\nThis reply saved the poor man, who doubtless would have paid with\nhis liberty, and even his life, for the possession of the terrible\nsecret, if he had been sufficiently educated to have discovered it.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnother historian, the Abb\u00e9 Papon, does not believe that the governor\nsaid to the fisherman, \"Go; you are happy in not being able to read!\"\nHe states that, instead of a silver plate, the mysterious prisoner\nused a white shirt, covered from one end to the other with the\nwritten history of his life.\n\n     \"I had,\" said he, \"the curiosity to enter the chamber of the\n     unfortunate man. It was lighted only by a window to the north,\n     inclosed in a thick wall and cased by three gratings of iron\n     placed at equal distances. This window overlooked the sea. I found\n     in the citadel an officer of the French company, about sixty-nine\n     years old. He told me that his father had often told him in secret\n     that a watchman one day perceived under the window of the prisoner\n     something white floating on the water.... It was a very fine\n     shirt, plaited with negligence, and upon which the prisoner had\n     written from one end to the other.\n\n     \"The watchman took means to recover it, and carried it to M. de\n     St. Mars, the governor of the Isle Ste. Marguerite.\n\n     \"He protested that he had read nothing; but two days afterward he\n     was found dead in his bed.\"\n\nIt is said that the Regent of Orleans left the secret of the name of\nthe Iron Mask with his daughter. We give what he related to her, this\nauthority being a pretended governor of the interesting captive. His\naccount may be found in the archives of the English government:\n\n     \"The unfortunate prince that I raised and guarded,\" said he,\n     \"until the end of my days, was born the 6th of September, 1638, at\n     eight o'clock in the evening, during the supper of the king, Louis\n     XIII. His brother, now reigning, Louis XIV., had been born in the\n     morning at twelve o'clock, during the dinner hour of his father;\n     but as the birth of the first child was splendid and brilliant,\n     that of his brother was most sad and carefully concealed; for the\n     king, advised by the midwife that the queen would bring forth\n     a second child, caused to remain in her chamber the chancellor\n     of France, the midwife, the first almoner, the confessor of the\n     queen, and myself, to be witnesses of what might happen, and of\n     what he would do, if this child should be born alive.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nActors have for many years studied carefully the costume of _The Man\nwith the Iron Mask_ and he who played in the drama by this name, M.\nLockroy, is still alive. He personated the prisoner, and was clothed\nin black velvet, with black stockings and buckled shoes. He wore the\ndouble mask of velvet with steel springs over his lips.\n\nIn this piece, that all Paris went to see, Chilly represented Louis\nXIII.; Delaistre, M. de St. Mars; and Ligier, who was afterward the\nDuke of Gloucester and the Louis XI. of Casimir Delavigne, took the\npart of the protector of the unfortunate recluse.\n\nAgain, under another name--_The Prisoner of the Bastille_--the same\nstory has been dramatized, and fresh interest added by an imaginary\nconversation between the captive and Louis XIV.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIt is easily seen that the most general opinion of the Iron Mask\nconsidered him the twin-brother of Louis XIV., kept out of the way\nfor fear of future trouble and collision in the government of France.\n\nSome authors affirm, too, that he must have been deformed, his face\ndistorted, or with some physical infirmity that it was necessary to\nconceal.\n\nOthers have thought that the brother of Louis XIV., being born the\nlast, was the elder by right, if the opinion of physicians and\nlegislators is to be consulted; and that the tenderness inspired by\nthe first born of the two brothers occasioned the act of ostracism,\nwhich history has sought in vain for a hundred years to elucidate.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIn 1837, there appeared a remarkable dissertation on the Iron Mask,\nby M. Paul Lacroix. He says that he who bore the name of Marchiali\nduring his lifetime was not the twin-brother of Louis XIV., and not\neven a son born clandestinely of the queen, but the superintendent,\nFouquet himself.\n\nBut the Iron Mask has in turn been believed to be Fouquet, Marchiali,\nArwediks, and other people who disappeared about that time.\n\nHe, however, who was called Marchiali, and who entered the Bastille\nthe 18th of September, 1698, died there suddenly the 19th of\nNovember, 1703.\n\nVery singular precautions were taken after his decease.\n\nThe body and face were mutilated, and every thing composing his\nfurniture was burned; even the doors and windows of his bedroom. The\nsilver he used was melted. The walls of his apartment were scraped\nand re-whitened.\n\nHe was buried the 20th of November, 1703, in the Church of St. Paul,\nunder the name of Marchiali.\n\nTime has not given the answer to this lugubrious enigma, and we fear\nM. Maurice Topin has failed to solve it.\n\nBut let us give him his meed of praise for having consecrated his\nnights to seeking for documents, comparing dates, and confronting the\nevidence of the most celebrated writers on the subject.\n\nHonor to the brave historian whom the night of time does not\nintimidate, and who is willing to grope among the shades of the past\nfor what is hidden, and above all a secret of the state!\n\nAmong all the victims of the old _r\u00e9gimes_, _The Man with the Iron\nMask_ was the most interesting.\n\nThis popular story was in every mouth the day of the taking of the\nBastille.\n\nIf he had lived until 1789, would it have been a pretender to the\ncrown, or simply a suspected prisoner, that the people would have\ndelivered?\n\nWe wait for M. Topin to answer.\n\n\n\n\nON A PICTURE OF NAZARETH.\n\n\n    In dreams no longer, but revealed to sight,\n        Comes o'er us, like a vision after death,\n    That shrine of tenderest worship--that delight\n        Of loftiest contemplation--Nazareth.\n\n    Fair-throned as when creation's King and Queen\n        Abode within its walls, it looks around\n    As scorning time and change; though these have been\n        The ruthless masters of its hallowed ground.\n\n    Still smiling as of old, it catches still\n        As fresh a morning; basks in such a noon;\n    Hears evening's voice as sweetly softly thrill;\n        In glory sleeps beneath a gushing moon.\n\n    Still looms the Mountain of Precipitation\n        In sadness o'er a vale serene and bright,\n    As when the Saviour foiled his frenzied nation,\n        Who fain had cast him headlong from the height.\n\n    And see upon the slope the very gate\n        Where--spot to kiss!--a lowly footstep fell,\n    As daily passed the Maid Immaculate\n        To fill her pitcher yonder at the well.\n\n    That well! where mirrored shone the loveliest face\n        That ever woman wore! 'Tis there--the same!\n    Though hating Christ and Juda's banished race,\n        The Moslems honor there the Virgin's name.\n\n    Give thanks, my soul! give thanks that thou hast seen.\n        Make Nazareth all a well of grace; and pray\n    To keep its taste within thee--which has been\n        The strength of saints. Drink deep, and go thy way.\n\n                                          B. D. H.\n\n\n\n\nTHE GREEK SCHISM\n\n\nThe Eastern Church has for the Catholic an attraction which centuries\nof separation have not been able to overcome. We look on its glories\nas our own, and we deplore its misfortunes as of our own household.\nWe have a common faith, the same sacraments, the same sacrifice,\nessentially the same devotional practices. Between us stands the\nbarrier of a schism which has lasted for centuries. It is of this\nschism, its origin, its history, that we propose to treat in this\narticle.\n\nTo understand clearly the causes that precipitated so large and\nflourishing a portion of the church into a deadly schism, it is\nnecessary to consider the relations of the bishops of Constantinople\nto Rome and the other great patriarchal sees, from the time when\nConstantine the Great placed the capital of his empire on the shores\nof the Bosphorus. The Bishop of Byzantium was then a suffragan\nof the Metropolitan of Heraclea. But when, with the presence of\nthe emperor, the splendor and the reality of the capital had been\ntransferred to the new Rome, the bishops of Byzantium became very\nimportant personages. They were, in fact, the ordinary medium of\ncommunication between the emperor and the other prelates of the\nEastern Church. Not content with the great influence naturally\narising from their vicinity to the court, they desired a style and\ntitle suitable, as they thought, to the dignity of the city of their\nresidence. The second general council (A.D. 381) gratified their\nwishes by a canon which decreed that the bishops of Constantinople,\n_because it was the new Rome_, should have precedence over all other\nprelates, after the Bishop of Rome. But this council has been\nheld to be general only in its dogmatic definitions, since, as St.\nGregory the Great[177] says, \"The Roman Church neither has received\nnor accepted of its decrees or acts, with the exception of its\ndefinitions against Macedonius.\" In point of fact, it was a local\nsynod, neither convoked nor presided over by the holy see, and has\nbeen called oecumenical only on account of the subsequent approbation\nof its dogmatic decrees by the same supreme authority. Its canon\nabout the dignity of the Bishop of Constantinople thus fell to the\nground. Pope Boniface I. (A.D. 418-422) insisted on the observance\nof the order of dignity between the great sees established by the\nCouncil of Nice, according to which Alexandria held the second, and\nAntioch the third place. The same rule was adopted by Xystus III.\nand other pontiffs. However, the powerful prelates of the imperial\ncity did not relinquish their ambitious views. The general council\nof Chalcedon (A.D. 451) passed two canons, by which it permitted\nany cleric who felt himself aggrieved to appeal to the see of \"the\nimperial city, Constantinople;\" and besides, enacted the celebrated\ntwenty-eighth canon in which the unfortunate principle that afterward\nled to schism was more openly avowed. Having cited the canon of the\nfirst council of Constantinople, it reaffirms it. \"Since the fathers\nhave justly granted privileges to the see of ancient Rome, because\nit was the imperial city, for the same reason the fathers of the\nsecond general council granted equal privileges to the episcopal\nthrone of new Rome, rightly judging that the city which is honored\nby the imperial presence and the senate, and enjoys equal privileges\nwith old Rome, should in ecclesiastical matters also be equally\ndistinguished, retaining, however, the second place;\" and then\nconfers ecclesiastical jurisdiction on the Bishop of Constantinople\nover the dioceses in Pontus, Asia Minor, and Thrace, and those that\nmight afterward be \"erected among the barbarians.\" The fathers,\nhowever, petitioned St. Leo the Great for the approval of this\nregulation, alleging the good of religion as their motive. But that\ngreat pontiff promptly \"annulled their action by the authority of\nSt. Peter,\" as contrary to the canon of Nice, remarking at the same\ntime that ecclesiastical questions were not regulated on the same\nplan as secular affairs, and that the Bishop of Constantinople ought\nto be satisfied with the imperial privileges of his city, without\ndisturbing church discipline, and invading the long-acknowledged\nrights of others. The obnoxious canon is not to be found in the\nmost ancient and best collections, though, in practice, the bishops\nof Constantinople always availed themselves of the privileges it\nattempted to grant them.\n\nThis uncanonical usurpation gave rise to a serious controversy toward\nthe end of the century. Acacius, Bishop of Constantinople, relying on\nthe twenty-eighth canon of Chalcedon, interfered in the election and\nconsecration of the patriarchs of Alexandria and Antioch. He was also\naccused and convicted of favoring the Eutychian heretics. For these\ncauses he was condemned and deposed by Pope Felix III. (A.D. 484.)\nThe oriental bishops continued, however, to retain his name in the\ncommemoration at mass, (_sacris diptychis_,) and the popes, on this\naccount, refused to communicate with them, until the pontificate of\nHormisdas, when they submitted to the holy see, erased the obnoxious\nname from the sacred records, and subscribed a formula of faith, in\nwhich they professed their agreement with the synods of Ephesus and\nChalcedon, condemned Acacius and others by name, acknowledged all\nthe dogmatic epistles of St. Leo, and declared that in the apostolic\nsee is to be found \"the true and entire fulness of the Christian\nreligion,\" and that those \"who did not agree with the apostolic see\nwere separated from the communion of the Catholic Church.\"\n\nAfter this happy termination, with one exception, no serious\ndifficulty on disciplinary questions occurred between the two sees\nuntil the time of Photius. Heresies, indeed, arose in the Eastern\nChurch; but both parties appealed to Rome, and the Catholic prelates\nand people always accepted her judgment as final. The exception\nto which we allude occurred under the pontificate of Pelagius II.\nand St. Gregory the Great, and affords a striking instance of the\ndifferent spirit that animated old and new Rome. In the year of\nour Lord 583, John, surnamed _The Faster_, was called to the see\nof Constantinople. Gregory, patriarch of Antioch, being accused of\ngrave crimes, the Bishop of Constantinople convoked a synod of the\nwhole east, and in his letters of convocation assumed the title of\n_oecumenical_, or universal, _patriarch_. Pope Pelagius II. promptly\ncondemned both the usurpation of jurisdiction over the see of\nAntioch and the newly-assumed title, especially as John pretended\nto convoke a general council, thus trenching upon the rights of\nthe apostolic see. The controversy continued under St. Gregory the\nGreat, who exhorted the bishops of Alexandria and Antioch to resist\nthis invasion of the rightful dignity of their sees. He refused for\nhimself the high-sounding title, though it had been given to his\npredecessors by the great council of Chalcedon, choosing the humbler\ndesignation of _servant of the servants of God_, which has ever\nsince been used by the Roman pontiffs in their official documents.\nCyriacus, the immediate successor of The Faster, continued to claim\nthe obnoxious title, until he was prohibited to do so by the Emperor\nPhocas. But, as all Phocas's decrees were annulled by Heraclius, the\nbishops of Constantinople resumed the offensive usage. It is to be\nremarked, however, that they always gave an explanation of the title,\nwhich showed that they did not intend to infringe on the primatial\nrights of the Roman see. They disclaimed any really universal\njurisdiction, claiming, at most, authority over the whole east.\nInsufficient as such an explanation was justly held to be by the\npopes, it shows that even the ambitious prelates of Constantinople,\ngreedy as they were of high titles and extended jurisdiction, never,\nin the early ages, dared to place themselves on an equality with the\nbishops of old Rome, the successors of St. Peter in the government of\nthe universal church.\n\nFrom these facts, it is also evident that the real cause of\ndissensions between Rome and Constantinople was not, as alleged by\nProtestant historians, following the lead of Mosheim, the ambition of\nthe pontiffs of Rome, who were striving for mastery over the whole\nchurch, while the bishops of Constantinople were contending for the\nrightful independence of the eastern portion thereof. The supremacy\nof the Roman see was recognized by every general council before the\nelection of Photius, and all of them were held in the east, composed\nof eastern bishops, and guided by eastern ideas and influence. The\nvery canons which attempted to give high dignity to Constantinople,\nacknowledged the primacy of Rome, and asked only the second place\nfor the capital of the eastern empire while that of Chalcedon was\nformally submitted to St. Leo, and his approbation asked for it.\nWhen the most illustrious prelate that ever governed New Rome, St.\nJohn Chrysostom, was unjustly treated, he appealed as a matter of\nright to Pope Innocent I., and his appeal was sustained. When heresy\narose in the east, the orthodox bishops of Constantinople always\nsubmitted to the judgment of the holy see, and sat in councils over\nwhich its legates presided. The history of the Nestorian, Eutychian,\nMonothelite, and Iconoclast heresies affords the most indubitable\nproofs that the Eastern Church, including that of Constantinople,\nalways admitted the supreme teaching and governing authority of the\nsee of St. Peter.\n\nAt the same time, it is plain that a spirit was growing up which\na bold, ambitious man might easily use to divide the unity of the\nchurch. The second general council affirmed a fatal principle when\nit wished to give Constantinople the second place among the great\nsees, _because it was the new Rome_. This principle was more fully\nand offensively developed in the twenty-eighth canon of Chalcedon.\nIt appeared to imply that the secular dignity of Rome was the cause\nof its ecclesiastical primacy, which should, consequently, follow\nthe imperial court. Not, indeed, that the fathers of either council\nwould have admitted such a consequence. They recognized the divinely\nestablished primacy of the Roman see; but they wished to gratify\nthe emperor of the day, and to second the desires of the powerful\nprelates of the imperial city, to whom many of them were doubtless\nindebted for substantial favors. But, unwittingly, they planted the\ngerm of schism, which at the appointed time produced its terrible\nfruit. This is the reason why the pontiffs always opposed the\nuncanonical pretensions of the prelates of Constantinople; they\ndefended not their own, for they were not attacked, but the rights\nof the sees of Alexandria and Antioch, and jealously guarded against\nencroachments, which they saw too well were only the forerunners of\ngreater and more fatal usurpations. The result, deplorable as it has\nbeen, only confirms the accuracy of their foresight, and justifies\ntheir honest, fearless, incorruptible resistance.\n\nThe responsibility of the fatal step to formal schism rests upon the\ncelebrated Photius. In the year 857, St. Ignatius had been Patriarch\nof Constantinople for a little more than a decade. Of austere virtue\nand firm character, he detested vice, and feared not to denounce it\neven in high places. The then reigning emperor, Michael III., is\ncompared by Gibbon to Nero and Heliogabalus. \"Like Nero, he delighted\nin the amusements of the theatre, and sighed to be surpassed in the\naccomplishments in which he should have blushed to excel.... The most\nskilful charioteers obtained the first place in his confidence and\nesteem; their merit was profusely rewarded; the emperor feasted in\ntheir houses, and presented their children at the baptismal font;\nand, while he applauded his own popularity, he affected to blame the\ncold and stately reserve of his predecessors.\" After saying that he\nwas intemperate, licentious, and sanguinary, the historian adds:\n\"But the most extraordinary feature in the character of Michael is\nthe profane mockery of the religion of his country.... A buffoon of\nthe court was invested in the robes of the patriarch; his twelve\nmetropolitans, among whom the emperor was ranked, assumed their\necclesiastical garments; they used or abused the sacred vessels of\nthe altar; and, in their bacchanalian feasts, the holy communion was\nadministered in a nauseous compound of vinegar and mustard. Nor were\nthese impious spectacles concealed from the city. On the day of a\nsolemn festival, the emperor, with his bishops or buffoons, rode on\nasses through the streets, encountered the true patriarch at the head\nof his clergy, and, by their licentious shouts and obscene gestures,\ndisordered the gravity of the Christian procession.\" While this\npromising youth was thus enjoying himself with sumptuous banquets,\nfast horses, and degrading shows, his uncle, the C\u00e6sar Bardas, was\nthe real emperor. He, too, though a man of talents and application to\nbusiness, was of depraved morals, and was at length excommunicated\nby St. Ignatius, because he had dismissed his wife, and attempted to\nmarry his own daughter-in-law. From that moment the licentious C\u00e6sar\ndetermined on the ruin of the patriarch. Toward the end of the year\n857, the holy man was sent into exile and imprisoned in a monastery,\nwhere he positively refused to resign his episcopal dignity. A synod\nof bishops was held, who, through either fear or favor, deposed\nIgnatius, and elected Photius in his stead.[178]\n\nIf unhallowed ambition had not induced Photius to usurp high\necclesiastical dignity, his abilities, industry, learning, and\nhitherto blameless life might have obtained for him one of the\nmost honorable places in the history of the Byzantine empire. But\nfrom the day when, disregarding all idea of right and of canonical\nrestrictions, he forced himself into the sanctuary, his whole career\nwas one of chicanery, fraud, injustice, and finally open schism. Even\nhad the see of Constantinople been vacant, his election was null,\nbecause he was a layman, and it was strictly prohibited by the canons\nto elect laymen to the episcopal dignity. He himself re\u00ebnacted these\nvery canons, thereby practically condemning his own election. He held\na high position in the imperial court, was captain of the guards, and\nprincipal secretary of the emperor, and his energy and acknowledged\nabilities might have obtained for him still higher honors. But he was\ndazzled by the splendor of the patriarchal throne, and ascended it by\nan irregular ordination. Within six days he received all the orders\nof the church, being consecrated bishop on Christmas day, A.D. 857.\nThis hasty conferring of sacred orders was also against the canons.\nHis consecrator was Gregory, Bishop of Syracuse, who had been tried\nby St. Ignatius, found guilty of various grave crimes, and regularly\ndeposed in a legitimate synod. It would be difficult to find an\nepiscopal election and ordination marred by greater or more numerous\nirregularities.\n\nAlmost the first act of Photius was to recognize the primacy of the\nholy see. He sent legates to Pope Nicholas I., who were charged\nto inform the pontiff that Ignatius, worn out by age and disease,\nhad voluntarily renounced the episcopal dignity, and retired to a\nmonastery; and that Photius had been elected by all the metropolitans\nand the entire clergy, and forced by the emperor to accept the\ndignity; he also sent an orthodox profession of faith, hoping thus\nto deceive the pontiff. The emperor, too, sent his representative\nwith a letter requesting the pope to send legates to Constantinople\nto restore discipline, and finally root out the Iconoclasts. But\nSt. Nicholas was too clear-sighted to be caught by the wiles of the\ncrafty Greek. He did, indeed, send legates; but charged them merely\nto examine into the case of Ignatius, report fully thereon to the\napostolic see, and meanwhile to admit Photius to only lay communion.\nHis objections to the proceedings at Constantinople were, first, that\nthe deposition of St. Ignatius was one of the greater causes, which\ncould not be determined unless by the supreme judgment of the holy\nsee; and, secondly, that, at all events, the election of Photius,\nhe having been at the time a mere layman, was uncanonical, and his\nconsecration irregular. On both points he was fully sustained by\nancient canons admitted in the eastern as well as in the western\nchurch. But he did not give a final judgment; he merely ordered his\nlegates to make thorough inquiry into the facts, and report thereon\nto himself.\n\nThey, however, proved unfaithful to their high trust. As soon as\nthey arrived at their destination, they were kept in honorable\nimprisonment for the space of one hundred days, during which they\nwere allowed to see no one but the friends of Photius. Influenced\npartly by threats, partly by gifts, they at last consented to favor\nthe cause of the usurper. He then called together a synod, (A.D.\n861,) at which the legates presided. Photius read what he called\nthe letters of the pope, but which were really documents mutilated\nand interpolated by his crafty hand. St. Ignatius was then brought\nbefore the synod, clad in the garb of a monk. He refused to be judged\nby men all in the interest of Photius, declared that he appealed to\nthe pope, and quoted in his favor the fourth canon of the Council\nof Sardica, which especially recognizes the right of such appeal,\nand the precedent of St. John Chrysostom. But appeals to justice\nand law are lost on a packed synod as well as on a packed jury.\nFalse witnesses were introduced, who swore that he had not been\nlegitimately elected, but owed his elevation to intrusion by the\nsecular power; and on this charge, true enough as against Photius, he\nwas deposed. One prelate spoke in his behalf, Theodulus of Ancyra,\nwho was immediately wounded by a ruffian, and thus enabled with his\nblood to give testimony to the right. The ceremony of degradation\nthen ensued; the venerable patriarch was clothed with the insignia\nof his order and dignity, and one by one these were taken off him by\na deposed subdeacon who, at each act, exclaimed aloud, _Indignus_,\n(unworthy,) a word re\u00ebchoed by all present, even the legates of\nthe apostolic see. He was then thrown into the sepulchral vault of\nConstantine Copronymus, tormented there in a most terrible manner,\nnearly starved to death, till, after two weeks, when he was more\ndead than alive, a minion of Photius, seizing his hand, forced him\nto scratch a cross on a sheet of paper. Over this cross the usurper\nwrote a formal acknowledgment of the justice of the sentence of the\nsynod, and sent it to the emperor as the voluntary act of his victim.\nOne result of this fraud was the liberation of the holy man, leave\nhaving been accorded to him to retire to his mother's property; but\nas he had reason to fear more violence, he left Constantinople in\ndisguise, and took refuge in the islands of the Propontis, where he\nsucceeded in baffling the pursuit of his heartless and unscrupulous\nenemies.\n\nMeanwhile, he sent a trustworthy messenger to Rome to inform the\nsupreme pontiff of the terrible injustice and indignities to which\nhe had been subjected in the presence and with the approval of the\nlegates of the holy see. These worthies returned, and informed\nthe pope that Ignatius had been canonically deposed and Photius\ncanonically installed. Photius also wrote a letter remarkable both\nfor craftiness and elegance. It contained neither an offence against\ngood style nor a word of truth. He regretted his elevation, deplored\nthe burden imposed on his weak shoulders, expressed his desire to\nconform to the Roman discipline, and to govern with ecclesiastical\nfirmness, and blended not unskilfully the arts of flattery and\nsophistry. But Nicholas was not to be deceived. He examined the acts\nof the false synod, found the fraud that had been committed, and,\ncalling a council at Rome, restored Ignatius, deposed Photius, and\none of the traitor legates, who publicly acknowledged his crime. As\nthe other was absent, his case was put off until he could be heard\nin his defence. The pontiff wrote also to the emperor and Photius,\nannouncing his action in the premises, addressing the latter merely\nas a layman. In a later synod, (A.D. 863,) having heard from the\nrepresentative of St. Ignatius a full and well-authenticated account\nof all the iniquity of Photius, the pope deposed him from every grade\nof the sacred ministry, and interdicted him, under anathema, from\nwhich he was not to be absolved unless at the moment of death, from\never exercising any act of the same, or from in any way disturbing\nthe legitimate patriarch, Ignatius. He also deposed all those who\nhad been promoted by the usurper, as well as the second legate, who,\nby not appearing when cited, had added to his other crimes that of\ncontumacy.\n\nOn hearing this news, Photius proceeded to the dire act of formal\nschism. He called a council, and formally excommunicated Pope\nNicholas. Only one-and-twenty bishops followed him in his impious\ncourse. The rest cried out, \"It is not just to pronounce sentence\nagainst the supreme and first pontiff, especially when it is an\ninferior who pronounces it.\" To support his action, he published a\ncircular letter to the patriarchs and bishops of the East, in which\nhe accused the Roman see and the Western Church of the following\ncrimes: 1. that they abstained from flesh on Saturday; 2. that,\nduring the first week of Lent, they used milk and cheese; 3. that the\nclergy in sacred orders observed celibacy; 4. that they reserved the\nright of conferring confirmation to bishops; 5. that, by a change in\nthe symbol, they pretended that the Holy Ghost proceeded from the Son\nas well as from the Father. No sensible reader but will smile at the\nfirst four charges; in relation to the fifth, we shall only observe\nhere that, as first made by Photius, it did not allege a mere breach\nof discipline, it involved the crime of heresy. As thus proffered it\ncannot be, as it is not, now sustained by any orthodox Christian.\n\nBut the vices of the Emperor Michael brought upon him that punishment\nwhich has so often visited licentious sovereigns. A conspiracy was\nformed against him, and he was assassinated in his own palace, (A.D.\n867.) The chief of the conspirators, Basil the Macedonian, ascended\nthe vacant throne. No one can defend the crime of assassination;\nbut the character of the new emperor has been painted in bright\ncolors by the historian. Of course, Photius fell with his patron,\nand St. Ignatius was restored to his see. Both the emperor and\npatriarch hastened to notify St. Nicholas of this happy event. But\nthat great and courageous pontiff had already been called to his\nreward. The messengers from Constantinople found Adrian II. in\nthe chair of Peter. He congratulated them on the turn events had\ntaken, and, in order fully to heal the schism of Photius, thought\nwell to have a general council held at Constantinople. The emperor\nconsented and made the necessary dispositions. The council was\nopened in the church of St. Sophia, on Oct. 5th, 869, held ten\nsessions, and ended on the last day of February following. The\nlegates of the pope, Donatus, Bishop of Ostia, Stephen, Bishop of\nNep\u00e8, and Marinus, deacon of the Roman Church, presided. Their names\nand legatine authority are always mentioned first in the acts. A\nhigh place of honor was given to the emperor, as protector of the\nchurch. The action of the council was in entire conformity with\nthe instruction of the pope to his legates. Ignatius was declared\nlegitimate patriarch, and Photius for ever deposed from any clerical\norder. He was, however, offered lay communion, on condition that he\nshould retract and condemn, in writing, all the iniquitous acts of\nhis usurpation. Proper measures were taken to remedy the confusion\ncreated by his long intrusion, and a profession of faith was\npublished, as well as twenty-seven disciplinary canons. Photius was\ninvited to appear in person; but he refused, denying the competency\nof the synod to try him. To say the least, it was as competent to try\nhim as the one he had called to try Ignatius. The acts of the synod\nwere subsequently confirmed by Pope Adrian, and it has always been\nadmitted as universal by the church.\n\nThus, for the seventh time in the history of the church had a general\ncouncil been held in the East, composed of eastern bishops, presided\nover by the legates of the apostolic see. At the first audience given\nby the emperor to the legates of Adrian II., the former said, \"In the\nname of God, we beg that the work be strenuously carried on, that\nthe scandals caused by the wickedness of Photius be dispelled, so\nthat the long-wished-for unity and tranquillity be restored according\nto the decree of the most holy Pope Nicholas.\" To which they made\nanswer, \"For this have we come hither; for this purpose have we been\nsent hither; but we cannot receive any one of your eastern bishops\ninto our council unless we shall have received from them a writing,\naccording to a formula which we have taken from the archives of the\napostolic see.\" And in the first session their demands were complied\nwith. So that at the very time when we are told by Protestant writers\nthat Photius was fighting for the rightful independence of the see\nof Constantinople, the supremacy of the see of Rome was admitted in\na general synod by every eastern bishop that was not a creature of\nPhotius.\n\nThe attempted schism had thus been vigorously repressed, and Photius\nlived ten years in exile. But he succeeded in gaining the esteem\nand the favor of the monarch by an expedient which has often before\nand since met with the same reward. Basil was of ignoble descent;\nPhotius made out a genealogy by which he showed the family of the\nemperor to be an offshoot of the Arsacides, \"the rivals of Rome, who\nhad possessed the sceptre of the east for four hundred years.\" The\nacknowledged erudition of the author lent probability to the forgery;\nthe pride of the monarch was flattered, and his gratitude awakened.\nOn the death of St. Ignatius, (A.D. 877,) Photius was recalled to the\nsee of Constantinople, and the emperor immediately sent ambassadors\nto Rome, begging the pontiff to acquiesce in the election. He\ndeclared that Photius had seen the error of his ways, that his\npresent elevation would restore peace to the church, and that all the\nbishops, even those who had adhered to Ignatius, petitioned for his\nconfirmation. John VIII., who then occupied the Roman see, judged it\nexpedient to gratify this universal desire. He required, however,\nthat Photius should in a public synod acknowledge the decrees of\nPopes Nicholas and Adrian, and the general council, beg pardon\nfor the faults he had committed and the scandals he had given, be\nabsolved from censure, and then, and not till then, be acknowledged\nas Bishop of Constantinople. He sent legates to execute this decree\nof mercy. But the pride of Photius would not brook submission, and he\nresorted to his old arts. Again the apostolic legates were corrupted\nor intimidated; again Photius mutilated the pope's letters; received\nin a numerous synod, from the legates themselves, the insignia of the\npatriarchal dignity; and without any opposition from them, if not\nwith their consent, the eighth council was abrogated, and the acts of\nPopes Nicholas and Adrian condemned.\n\nOn their return to Rome, the legates, of course, reported that the\ninjunctions of the pontiff had been strictly observed; but the pride\nof Photius betrayed them. In his letter he said he had fulfilled\nall the conditions save that of begging pardon, because he had done\nnothing to require pardon. This led John to an investigation which\nrevealed to him how shamefully he had been disobeyed. He accordingly\nsent to Constantinople the same Marinus, who had been one of the\nlegates to the general council, ordering him to rescind every thing\nthat had been done against his mandate. This brave and intelligent\nman fully and faithfully performed his duty, and was imprisoned\nfor thirty days; but as his constancy could not be overcome, he\nwas allowed to return to Rome. Whereupon Pope John, \"ascending the\npulpit, taking the Gospel in his hands, in the hearing of the whole\ncongregation, thus spake, 'Whoever doth not hold Photius condemned\nby the sentence of God, as the holy Popes Nicholas and Adrian, my\npredecessors, left him, let him be anathema.'\" Photius, however,\nremained in possession as long as Basil lived. His son and successor,\nLeo the Philosopher, albeit educated by Photius, caused the sentence\nof the pontiffs to be executed. As the newly-elected prelate,\nStephan, had been ordained deacon by Photius, a circumstance which\nrendered him irregular, a dispensation was prayed for from Rome. This\nwas granted by Pope Formosus, with a saving clause that it should not\nbe interpreted against the condemnation of Photius. Thus the schism\nwas healed for a time. Photius died in a monastery, A.D. 891.\n\nWe have entered into these details to show on what grounds the origin\nof the Greek schism rests. It was not, we repeat it, a contest for\nsupremacy. New Rome had never even claimed equality with the see\nof Peter. Its bishops had never asked but the second place. Could\nPhotius have obtained the confirmation of his election from the pope,\nit is probable he never would have rushed into schism. It has been\nsaid that St. Nicholas was too harsh with him. But had the pontiff\nneglected to do justice to St. Ignatius, the very writers who now\ncriticise him for severity, would have blamed him with culpable\nweakness. Indeed, John VIII. has met with such censure. But how\ndid Photius repay his kindness? By fraud, by the grossest insult\nto his predecessors, and to an oecumenical council. It is useless\nto speak of the erudition of the usurper, or of his services to\nliterature. These, great though they be, cannot palliate his crimes.\nThe popes defended oppressed virtue and the canons of the church;\nPhotius, having failed to deceive, seduce, or intimidate them, was\ndriven to the desperate resort of schism. A sceptic like Gibbon may\nindeed scoff at the whole dispute; but he who believes that Christ\nestablished a church and appointed a certain form of government, must\nshudder as he reads of the fatal action of one man, who, to gratify\nhis unhallowed ambition, began a schism which has ended in the ruin\nof some of the fairest portions of Christendom. It is all very well\nin the nineteenth century to talk of independent national churches;\nthe idea was unheard of in the ninth. Else why did Photius so\npersistently endeavor to obtain the confirmation of his election from\nthe pope? His own action condemns him; the whole history of the Greek\nChurch condemns him; and the modern Greeks, who are such sticklers\nfor antiquity, stand equally condemned.\n\nThe question of jurisdiction over Bulgaria has been magnified by\nsome writers into a cause of the schism. But the fact that Ignatius\nis revered as a saint by the church, though up to the time of his\ndeath he defended the supposed rights of his see in this regard,\nshows that, important though the controversy doubtless was, it\ncould not have caused a separation. The popes would, at most, have\ncontented themselves with protesting against the usurpation, as they\nhad done in other cases. The ancient Illyricum, of which Bulgaria\nis a part, undoubtedly belonged to the Roman patriarchate. So did\nAchaia. Both were transferred to that of Constantinople by a decree\nof the Iconoclast emperor, Leo the Isaurian, in revenge for the\ncondemnation of his heresy by the holy see. And these historical\nfacts have been alleged by the schismatic bishops of modern Greece to\njustify their forming themselves into a national church, independent\nof the patriarch of Constantinople. Says one of their defenders, \"An\nheretical emperor took away these dioceses from an orthodox pope\nto give them to a patriarch who was a heretic like himself.\"[179]\nThe Bulgarian monarch sent, almost at the same time, ambassadors to\nthe pope and to the Byzantine emperor, asking for missionaries to\ninstruct himself and his people in the Christian faith. Those sent\nfrom Rome arrived first on the ground; but the secular influence\nof Constantinople was too great for them, and they were sent back.\nOf course, the popes protested against this outrage against--be\nit carefully observed--not their primatial, but their patriarchal\nrights; but there is no reason to suppose the controversy could\nhave given rise to schism. The moderation of the pontiffs on such\nquestions, recorded on every page of their history, is our warrant\nfor this assertion. It was only when some primary law of the\nchurch was violated, some gross injustice against innocent persons\ncommitted, or their own supremacy defied, that they felt themselves\nobliged to resort to measures of the last severity.\n\nPhotius was finally deposed in the year 866. From that event for more\nthan a century there was peace between old and new Rome. At length\none of the family of the usurper, Sergius, was elevated to the see\nof Constantinople, (A.D. 988.) He held a council, excommunicated the\npopes, and erased their names from the sacred records. This outrage\nmust never have reached the ears of the holy see. At least, we find\nno vestige of any action taken by the popes concerning it. Sergius\nwas succeeded, in 1018, by Eustachius, who applied to Pope John XIX.\nfor permission to adopt the title of _oecumenical patriarch_. The\nrequest being refused by the pontiff, his name was omitted from the\n_diptychs_ by the indignant prelate. He was succeeded by Alexius,\nabout whose attitude to the holy see we can discover nothing in the\nrecords of the age. In the year 1034, Michael Cerularius was made\nbishop of New Rome. Profane as well as sacred historians represent\nhim as a proud, ambitious, and turbulent person. He determined\nformally to revive the schism inaugurated by Photius. His principal\naccomplices were Leo of Acrida, Metropolitan of Bulgaria, and one\nNicholas, a monk. They issued a letter directed to John, Bishop of\nTrani, in southern Italy, giving their reasons why they no longer\nwished to hold communion with the Western Church, and addressed a\nletter of similar import to the patriarchs of the east. Most of\nthese reasons are so puerile that in reading them one would be\ntempted to smile, were it not for the thought that they were used to\ncreate a deadly schism. Such were the charges: that the Latins used\nunleavened bread in the holy sacrifice; that they did not abstain\nfrom \"strangled things and blood;\" that their monks ate swine flesh;\nthat their priests shaved off their beards; that they did not sing\n_Alleluia_ during Lent; that they gave the _pax_ before the communion\nat mass; that their bishops wore a ring. In the long arraignment\nthere is but one accusation that the most prejudiced enemy of the\nholy see can call serious, namely, that of the addition of the\n_filioque_ to the symbol. As to this, we shall content ourselves\nby relating afterward how it was met, and the controversy about it\nsettled, in the Council of Florence.\n\nSt. Leo IX., who then occupied the holy see, having been made\nacquainted with the contents of the letter of Cerularius, wrote a\nlong and able answer, in which he offered peace to all who were\nreally lovers of peace, based, however, on the unity of the church\nand the primacy of the Roman see. Cerularius asked him to send\nlegates to Constantinople to settle the pending difficulties. The\npope acquiesced, and sent two cardinals, Humbert and Frederic,\nand the Archbishop of Amalfi. Cerularius not only refused to meet\nthem, but endeavored to prevent them from celebrating the sacred\nmysteries in any of the churches of Constantinople. The legates\nhaving repeatedly warned him, were obliged to excommunicate him in\nthe church of St. Sophia. He, in turn, excommunicated the Roman\npontiff, and wrote letters to the patriarchs of the great eastern\nsees with the object of drawing them into the schism. The answer of\nthe Patriarch of Antioch alone has been preserved. He defends the\nLatins from many of the charges raised by Cerularius, while he admits\nsome to be true; but he refuses to join the wrong-headed bishop of\nNew Rome in his schism.\n\nMost historians date from this period the definitive separation of\nthe Greek Church from that of Rome. It would be easy, however, to\nshow that communication was occasionally kept up during the rest of\nthe eleventh and a portion of the twelfth centuries. Practically,\nhowever, it may be said that Cerularius separated new and old Rome,\nespecially as the Greeks ever after held to two points he had raised\nagainst the Western Church--the addition of _filioque_ to the symbol,\nand the use of unleavened bread in the holy sacrifice.\n\nThere were, doubtless, other causes than these which rendered\nthis great schism so easy of accomplishment. The ambition of the\nbishops of Constantinople led them to be always on the lookout for\na plausible pretext for a quarrel with Rome. Then the Greeks felt\ndeeply two great changes in Europe--the loss of their dominion in\nItaly, and the re\u00ebstablishment, as it is called, of the empire of\nthe west, for both of which they chiefly blamed the popes. This\nfeeling made them support without any very close examination the\ncause of the bishops of the imperial city. Then the memory of Photius\nwas revered as one of the great names of New Rome. We must add,\nin conclusion, the universal effeminacy and corruption which has\nleft an indelible stain upon the unworthy successors of Constantine\nand Theodosius, and given to their government the opprobrious but\nemphatic name of the Low Empire.\n\nBut no honest man, much less no churchman, can find in these causes\nany excuse or palliation for schism. Nor can such cause be found\nin the personal relations of either Photius or Cerularius with\nthe holy see, much less in the earlier history of the church of\nConstantinople, as the facts collected from authentic documents\nrelated in these pages, we think, sufficiently show.\n\nThe popular hatred of the Greeks against the Latins was doubtless\naggravated by the establishment of the Latin empire of Constantinople.\nYet it was the first sovereign of the restored Greek empire that\nopened negotiations for a reunion of the churches. It is not for us\nto decide whether Michael Pal\u00e6ologus was influenced by motives of\ninterest or of religion; probably both had their weight with him.\nIn answer to his application, Pope Clement IV. sent a profession of\nfaith according to the ancient formula, promising to call a general\ncouncil to cement the union, provided the Greeks would consent\nbeforehand to accept and sign this profession. Gregory X. did call\nthe council, (A.D. 1272) for the triple purpose of the union of the\nchurches, aid to the Christians struggling in the Holy Land, and the\nreformation of discipline. He sent nuncios to the Greek emperor\nand the Patriarch of Constantinople, inviting them to the synod,\nand received a favorable answer from the former. The council was\nopened at Lyons on May 7th, 1274. There were five hundred bishops\npresent; the pontiff presided in person. It lasted three months,\nand six sessions were held. At the third, the Greek representatives\nappeared. Solemn high mass was celebrated by the pope, at which the\n_Credo_ was sung in Latin and Greek, the Greeks repeating thrice the\nwords, \"Who proceedeth from the Father and the Son.\" At the next\nsession were read the letters of the Greek emperor and prelates.\nBoth contained most satisfactory statements of their faith in the\nprimacy of the holy see by divine right over the whole church. The\nprelates, moreover, informed his holiness that, as the Patriarch\nJoseph had opposed the union, they had requested him to withdraw into\na monastery, to await the result of the council, and that, if he\nshould refuse to accept it, they would depose him and elect another\npatriarch. Then the representatives of the emperor, and those of\nthe prelates, in the name of their principals, solemnly abjured the\nschism, acknowledged the supremacy of the Roman see, and took an oath\nnever again to infringe on it. A synodical decree was passed defining\nthe Catholic doctrine on the procession of the Holy Ghost, condemning\nthose who deny that he proceeds from the Father and the Son, as\nwell as those who assert that he proceeds from them as from _two\nprinciples_, not _one principle_. The Greeks were then dismissed with\ngreat honor, carrying with them congratulatory letters to the emperor\nand the prelates.\n\nBut this union did not last long. Pal\u00e6ologus did indeed cause\nJoseph to be deposed, and John Veccus to be elected to the see of\nConstantinople. He also endeavored to enforce the decree of union by\nsevere penalties against the recusants, and a synod was celebrated\nby the patriarch, in which the union was accepted. But the clergy\nand the people obstinately opposed any communion with the Latins;\nthe same feeling prevailed in the emperor's household; and at last\nhe abandoned what he appears to have considered a hopeless task. He\nwas excommunicated in 1281, by Pope Martin IV., for favoring heresy\nand schism. He, however, protested his sincerity, and on his death\nwas refused Christian burial by his son and successor, Andronicus,\nfor the part he had taken in the union of the churches. The schism\nwas thus reopened, and the work of the Council of Lyons produced no\nfurther fruit.\n\nBut when the Turks had reduced the domain of the empire almost to the\nwalls of Constantinople, the wily and faithless Greeks again turned\ntheir eyes westward, and offered reunion in the hope of obtaining\nsuccor. It were foreign to our purpose to trace the history of the\ncontroversy between Pope Eugenius IV. and the Council of B\u00e2le.\nSuffice it to say, that, to facilitate the coming of the Greeks,\nwho wished to meet in a city near the Adriatic, he transferred the\ncouncil to Ferrara. On February 7th, 1438, the eastern fleet arrived\nat Venice, bearing the Emperor John Pal\u00e6ologus, Joseph, Patriarch\nof Constantinople, the proctors of the other eastern patriarchs,\nthe Metropolitan of Russia, and a great number of metropolitans,\nbishops, abbots, and other dignitaries of the Greek Church. They were\nreceived with extraordinary pomp and splendor. Thence they went to\nFerrara, where they arrived in the beginning of March. The council\nopened on April 9th. A delay of four months was agreed on, to enable\nthe bishops of the Western Church to take part in the proceedings.\nMeanwhile, informal conferences were held on the questions of\npurgatory, and the beatitude of the saints before the final day of\njudgment. It was easily shown that the differences between the two\nchurches were merely verbal, and did not affect the dogma. The first\nsolemn session was held on October 8th, which was followed by fifteen\nothers in regular order. In December, the council was transferred to\nFlorence, on account of the appearance of the plague at Ferrara. Nine\nsessions were held at Florence, at the end of which the act of union\nwas solemnly adopted and promulgated.\n\nThere is scarcely any thing more interesting in the history of\ngeneral councils than the records of the discussions so long and so\nably carried on in this synod. It is a common supposition that the\nLatins resorted to bribery and threats, the Greeks to chicanery and\nbad faith, and thus an understanding was arrived at. Nothing could\nbe further from the truth, as the acts of the synod prove. Point\nafter point was discussed with marked ability on both sides, and\nwith peculiar skill and pertinacity on the part of the Greeks. At\nlast, all, with the exception of Mark, Archbishop of Ephesus, yielded\neither to unanswerable arguments or to clear explanations, and then,\nall difficulties being removed, the union was agreed to. It is, of\ncourse, impossible in the brief space of an article to relate these\ndiscussions in detail. We shall briefly refer to the principal point\nin dispute.\n\nThis was the addition of _filioque_ in the creed. The Latins insisted\non separating from the beginning the two distinct points of dogma\nand discipline. They asked the Greeks, first, if they believed that\nthe Holy Ghost proceeded from the Father and the Son, as from one\nprinciple of _spiration_. They showed them that the fathers of the\nGreek, as well as those of the Latin church, had always taught this\ndoctrine. There was a great deal of finessing on the part of the\nGreeks; they examined their own copies of the fathers, and found\nthat they had been correctly quoted by the other side; and, at last,\nconfessed that they had been wrong in accusing the Western Church\nof error. The disciplinary question was argued with a great deal\nof vigor. The Greeks, of course, alleged the celebrated canon of\nthe Council of Ephesus, prohibiting any addition to the symbol. The\nLatin answer may be summed up thus: This canon prohibits any addition\nby private authority. But _filioque_ was added by the authority of\nthe head of the church. Again, the canon prohibits any addition\n_contrary_ to the doctrine of the symbol; but this addition is an\nexplanation and a complement of the doctrine of Nice, and the very\nwords (_and from the Son_) have been taken from orthodox fathers.\nLastly, the addition was not made lightly or without cause; but a\nreal necessity existed for it. Finally, all the Greeks, but Mark\nof Ephesus, returned this answer: \"We consent that you recite the\naddition to the symbol, and that it has been taken from the holy\nfathers; and we approve it, and are united with you; and we say that\nthe Holy Ghost proceeds from the Father and the Son, as from one\nprinciple and cause.\"\n\nThis point being satisfactorily settled, the other mooted questions\nwere soon adjusted, and on July 6th, 1439, the act of union was\nread in solemn session, in Latin by Cardinal Julian, and in Greek\nby Bessarion, Archbishop of Nice, who had been the leaders on\neither side in the discussion. It is in the name of \"Eugenius,\nbishop, servant of the servants of God, with the consent of the\nmost serene emperor, and of the other patriarchs.\" The pope, \"with\nthe approbation of the sacred universal Council of Florence,\"\ndefines, first, the dogma of the eternal procession of the Holy\nGhost from Father and Son, as from one principle, and by one\nspiration; secondly, \"that the explanatory words, _and from the\nSon_, were lawfully and reasonably added to the symbol, for the\nsake of declaring the truth, and by reason of imminent necessity;\"\nthirdly, that both leavened and unleavened bread is lawful matter\nfor the eucharist, and that priests must follow the rite of their\nown church--those of the western, that of the western; those of the\neastern, that of the eastern; fourthly, the question of the different\nstates of souls after death was settled according to the received\ndoctrine which is now professed in the Catholic Church. We give the\nfifth section entire: \"That the holy apostolic see and the Roman\npontiff doth hold primacy over the whole earth, and that he is the\nsuccessor of the blessed Peter, prince of the apostles, and true\nvicar of Christ, and head of the whole church, and is the father and\nteacher of all Christians; and that to him, in the person of the\nblessed Peter, hath been delivered, by our Lord Jesus Christ, the\nfull power of feeding, ruling, and governing the universal church,\nas is contained in the acts of oecumenical councils and in the\nsacred canons.\" Lastly, the decree reorganizing the canonical order\nof patriarchs assigns the second place, after the Roman pontiff,\nto the patriarch of Constantinople, the third to the patriarch of\nAlexandria, the fourth to the patriarch of Antioch. A few more\nquestions of minor importance were then proposed to the Greeks, to\nmost of which they gave satisfactory replies, and soon afterward the\nemperor and his prelates returned home by way of Venice.\n\nThe difficulty about _filioque_ has just been renewed by Mr.\nFfoulkes, of England, in defence of some notion of his about a\nhybrid _united_, not _one_ church. We scarcely think he will succeed\nin making good an objection which Bessarion and Mark of Ephesus\nfailed to sustain. Any how, his thesis appears to be, not that any\none \"branch\" of the church is entirely in the right, but that they\nare all partly in the wrong. Perhaps he thinks that to him, not\nto F. Hyacinthe, has the Lord given these sticks, to warm in his\nbosom, purify, and finally reunite. We must leave them to settle the\nquestion between themselves. But they ought to remember, with St.\nJerome, that he who gathereth not with the pope, scattereth.\n\nGreat hopes were entertained that the union perfected after such\nlong and free discussions would be lasting. But these were all\ndisappointed. Of all the obscure questions connected with the Greek\nschism, the most obscure is how and when the compact of Florence was\nfirst violated in the east. It is certain that Metrophanes, elected\nPatriarch of Constantinople on the return of the Greek prelates, (as\nthe Patriarch Joseph had died at Florence,) solemnly published the\nact of union.[180] His successor, Gregory, was equally devoted to\nthe council, and before his elevation, defended its action against\nthe attacks of Mark of Ephesus. This proud and turbulent man did\nnot remain quiet under his defeat, but addressed most inflammatory\nletters to the orientals, making the vilest and most unfounded\naccusations, not only against the pope and the Latin bishops, but\nagainst his own colleagues. Though these were refuted by Gregory\nbefore mentioned, and by Joseph, Bishop of Mothon, they no doubt\nmade a great impression on the prejudiced, nay, jaundiced oriental\nmind. Mark, however, did not dare to publish his attacks until after\nthe death of John Pal\u00e6ologus, (A.D. 1448.)[181] A most extraordinary\nand shameful political intrigue appears to have come to the aid\nof the schismatical party. The Turk at this period was making his\narrangements for the final attack on Constantinople. The only hope\nfor the doomed city was in aid from the west. To prevent the sending\nof this seasonable aid, it was the obvious policy of the Mussulman\nto render void the union of Florence. Hence, in 1443, just ten years\nbefore the fall of New Rome, a synod was held at Jerusalem, composed\nentirely of bishops of sees under Turkish domination, among whom\nare numbered the patriarchs of Alexandria, Antioch, and Jerusalem,\nin which the act of union was declared impious. Metrophanes was\nadjudged to be an intruder into the see of Constantinople, and all\necclesiastics ordained by him were deposed, full power being given to\nthe Metropolitan of C\u00e6sarea to enforce this sentence in all dioceses\nunder the jurisdiction of the council--that is, wherever the crescent\nhad supplanted the cross.[182] Is it any wonder that, ten years\nafter, the Turks were masters of the city of Constantine?\n\nNo one, not even a modern Greek, would attempt to maintain that the\nassemblage at Jerusalem was a legitimate council. The schismatics,\nhowever, allege a council said to have been held at Constantinople\na year and a half after the Council of Florence, and after the\ndeath of John Pal\u00e6ologus, in which Metrophanes was deposed and the\nunion rescinded. But there are two unfortunate anachronisms in this\naccount. Metrophanes was certainly patriarch for three years after\nthe council, and John Pal\u00e6ologus did not die until 1448, nine years\nafter the act of union. One of the last acts of the expiring Greek\nempire was to send an ambassador to Pope Nicholas V. promising\nthe exact and speedy fulfilment of the agreement entered into at\nFlorence. We do not pretend to say that the greater portion of the\nclergy and people of Constantinople were not schismatics at heart;\nbut this we can aver, that they were bound by the action of their\nbishops, in the free, open Council of Florence, and that this action\nhas never been formally retracted by any legitimate council held\nin the East. And we commend this consideration to those Anglicans\nwho sometimes, in their desire for a false union, seek to associate\nwith Greek schismatics. These are condemned by the action of their\nfathers, an action never formally retracted, but merely opposed\nwith a sullenness and hardness of heart not unlike that with which\nGod visited Jerusalem before its destruction. While the Greeks were\ncalling the Latins _Azymites_, and other opprobrious names, the\nminister of God's vengeance was approaching their gates; New Rome\nfell into infidel hands; and from the turret of St. Sophia, whose\ndome had so often resounded with excommunications of the vicar of\nChrist, the _muezzin_ now invites the Moslem to prayer in the name of\nthe false prophet. Photius and Cerularius aimed at making New Rome\nthe spiritual superior of the city of Peter; instead, it has become\nthe chief city of the deadly enemy of the Christian name.\n\nThis is a sad, sad story, and it is not in exultation or triumph\nthat we pen these lines. While Mohammed II. was advancing his last\nlines, Pope Nicholas V. was making most strenuous efforts to succor\nthe \"fair but false\" Greeks, and his successors never gave up their\nefforts to regain the city of Constantine until it was evident that\nthere was no possibility of success.\n\nThe policy of Mohammed II. led him to spare a remnant of the\ninhabitants of the conquered city, and to permit to them the free\nexercise of their religion. But even in religious matters, he claimed\nthe prerogatives of the sovereigns whom he had displaced.\n\n     \"In the election and investiture of a patriarch, the ceremonial\n     of the Byzantine court was revived and imitated. With a mixture\n     of satisfaction and horror, the Greeks beheld the sultan on\n     his throne; who delivered into the hands of Gennadius (the\n     patriarch elect) the crosier or pastoral staff, the symbol of his\n     ecclesiastical office; who conducted the patriarch to the gate of\n     the seraglio, presented him with a horse richly caparisoned, and\n     directed the viziers and bashaws to lead him to the palace which\n     had been allotted for his residence.\"[183]\n\nAnd this degrading ceremony is continued to this day, each\n\"oecumenical patriarch of New Rome\" receiving solemn investiture at\nthe hands of the Ottoman padisha.\n\nThe fall of Constantinople rendered certain the success of the\nschismatical party. The sultans detested the name, as they feared the\ninfluence, of the Roman pontiff; and it was plausibly argued that to\navow union with him would be to insure their own destruction. The\nCatholic element, thus reduced to silence, gradually dwindled away;\nand the schism, though its abjuration at Florence remains in full\nforce, again blighted the Greek Church.\n\nAs to hopes of reunion at the present day, \"it is not for us to know\nthe times or moments which the Father hath put in his own power.\" We\ncan only hope and pray that light may at length dispel the darkness\nwhich has so long hung over the Eastern Church. Ottoman policy\nno longer requires the prolongation of the schism; its only real\nsupporter is Russia. All the Greeks would have to do would be to\nsign the act of union of Florence. They can have no difficulty about\nthe Council of Trent; for they have always condemned the errors it\ncondemns. Protestantism has never found favor in their eyes. If the\nCouncil of the Vatican do not succeed in reuniting them, it will, it\nis confidently expected, at least renew the missionary spirit, and\ninaugurate a work which, respecting eastern susceptibilities, may\nbring the church of Athanasius, Basil, the Gregories, Chrysostom,\nand so many other great saints and doctors out of \"darkness and the\nshadow of death,\" and put an end to a schism which commenced with\nthe lawless ambition of Photius, was renewed by the satanic pride\nof Cerularius, and has had for chief support the perfidious policy,\nfirst of the degenerate Christian emperors, then of the victorious\nanti-Christian sultans of Constantinople.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[177] Epist. 34, lib. 7.\n\n[178] Decline and Fall, ch. xlviii.\n\n[179] See _L'Eglise Orientale_. Par Jacques Pitzipios. Rome:\nPropaganda Press. 1855. Part vi. p. 13. A work which gives most\nuseful and interesting information on the state of the modern Greek\nChurch.\n\n[180] See Pitzipios, (Part ii. p. 47,) who gives a copy of one of the\ncircular letters of the patriarch.\n\n[181] Pitzipios, Part ii. pp. 55, 56, 57.\n\n[182] _Ibid._, l. c. pp. 59, 60.\n\n[183] Gibbon, Decline and Fall, ch. lxviii.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CHRIST OF AUSFELDT.\n\n\nWe live in a sceptical age that laughs at what it calls the\nsuperstitions of the olden time; superstitions, if you will, but\noften most beautiful, particularly when viewed through the mists of\ntime and change. It is a relief to come upon some living legend, so\nto speak, while travelling over the hard macadamized thoroughfare\nof our practical lives, and I shall never forget the pleasure I\nexperienced in listening to the recital of a story of the olden time,\ntold me by my gracious hostess at the village inn where I had been\nstopping for a few days while making a pedestrian tour through the\nsouthern part of Germany.\n\n\"_Ach, mein Herr!_ and hast never heard the legend of the Christ of\nAusfeldt?\"\n\nIt stood, weather-beaten and worn, just where the solid piers set\ntheir mighty feet into the river; an old stone crucifix that seemed\nto have battled the storms of hundreds of years.\n\nWhile pausing in my morning walk to gaze on it with a traveller's\ncuriosity, something in the general characteristics of the figure\nattracted my attention; and examining it more closely, I immediately\nsaw that it displayed greater evidence of artistic skill and\nexecution than is generally manifested in wayside images. Too often\nthey are but caricatures of that semblance which is the most holy\nand sacred of Christianity; but in the face of the Christ that\nlooked down upon me from the stained and battered cross, I read an\nexpression of patient suffering and God-like endurance that would\nhave borne noble testimony to any sculptor.\n\nReturning to the inn, a desire to discover something of the history\nrather of the sculptor than of the image prompted me to make inquiry\nof my good-natured landlady, who sat in the twilight just outside of\nthe house door, knitting as only a German woman can.\n\nFrom that \"_Ach, mein Herr!_\" I knew a story was coming; and\nknowing, likewise, that Frau Gretchen was a very princess in\nstory-telling, I lighted my pipe, and, stretching myself on the\nwooden bench before the door, prepared to be either saddened, amused,\nor delighted, as the case might be.\n\nFrau Gretchen laid down her stocking for a moment, smoothed the\nwhitest of white aprons, and having looked toward the river, and then\nat the ruined castle that surmounted the hill beyond, resumed her\nknitting, and, heaving a gentle sigh began:\n\n\"More than three hundred years ago, and for hundreds of years before\nthat time, there dwelt in that old castle yonder the noble lords of\nAusfeldt. They were great warriors; mighty in stature and strength,\nand for generations on generations had been feared and hated by their\nvassals; for they were wicked as they were violent, and cruel as they\nwere brave. Now, the women were all fair and gentle; for such was the\npower of the lords of Ausfeldt that it was ever given them to wed the\nflowers of the land; and it seemed that the good God made for them\nangel wives, so pure, and meek, and pious, and charitable were the\nladies of Ausfeldt through centuries and centuries of time.\n\n\"Now, it fell out that Berthold, the reigning count, had been rescued\nfrom drowning by Arnold, a wood-carver of the town, whose skill\nin his craft was well known and much sought even from Alspach and\nBrauen. It was on a Good-Friday, and the grateful lord registered a\nvow to Heaven that he would commemorate his preservation by erecting\nan image of the Saviour crucified nigh to the spot where the waters\nhad so nearly closed over him for ever.\n\n\"For in those days, _mein Herr_, although the great and mighty were\nfierce and cruel, faith was not dead in their hearts, as it is in\nthese evil times of ours.\n\n\"Old Arnold of Ausfeldt, at his own beseeching, was deputed to essay\nhis skill upon the Christ, and so well did he execute the task that\nhis fame travelled far and wide. A large sum of money was promised\nhim; but Berthold the master went off to the wars, and forgot, as men\noften do, his deliverer. Soon afterward old Arnold died and left all\nalone in the world his beautiful daughter, so fair and spotless that\nshe was called 'the Lily of Ausfeldt.'\n\n\"As I said before, _mein Herr_, the dames of this haughty house were\ngentle and good, and when poor Bertha was left desolate, the Countess\nBarbara sent for her to the castle, and placed her among her own\ndaughters as a sort of companion and teacher; for she had inherited\nfrom her mother great dexterity in the use of the needle, and from\nher father not a little artistic skill.\n\n\"For a time all went well. But alas! to every day, however bright,\nthere comes an ending; and thus the morning of Bertha's happiness\nfaded and deepened into night.\n\n\"There arrived from a long journey in the East the eldest son of the\nhouse, the young Rupert; none handsomer, none wittier, none more\ncourtly than he. Unlike his father and most of his progenitors, he\npossessed a winning tongue and beguiling air; he had loitered in\nladies' bowers, and they had taught him well.\n\n\"Into the pure blue eyes of the Lily of Ausfeldt he looked as would\nthe serpent into the eyes of a trembling dove. But the blue depths,\nthough they quivered, grew no darker nor deeper; there was no guile\nin the heart, and it knew not the presence of sin. Close to the\ninnocent cheek of the maiden the tempter breathed his poisonous\nbreath; but the guardian angel of purity folded his wings about\nher, and wafted a fold of his misty veil between that hot breath and\nher unsoiled innocence, until, man of the world though he was, Count\nRupert shrank into himself abashed, and loved for the first time in\nhis reckless life with a pure, deep, passionate love.\n\n\"Day after day he sought her side, night after night they wandered\ntogether by the river; her soul all full of faith, and hope, and\nbeauty; his racked by fears of his father's anger; for in his heart\nof hearts he knew that his father would sooner slay him with his own\nhand than bend the lofty pride of Ausfeldt to a union with a simple\nburgher maiden.\n\n\"_Ach, ach, Herr Karl!_ love is a pleasant thing, and a delicious\nthing, and a holy thing; for it is heaven-born: but woman's faith is\nstill more beautiful and heavenly; and man's fickleness and perfidy\nthe story of every day. It has been the same all the world over since\ntime began, and so it will be to the end.\n\n\"They parted at last--war called him away; but he left her with a\nvow upon his lips that was broken ere the birds sang the advent of\nanother summer. There came rumors of a marriage with a great heiress\nof the north; but Bertha knew no fears, for her own heart was pure\nand true, and she did not dream that his could be faithless. Alas!\nthere are many like her in the world, _mein Herr_, even in our day,\nwhen most people are forgetting what love means.\n\n\"Soon the castle was astir with unusual bustle and preparation, and\nthen there was no secret made of the fact that the young Lord Rupert\nwould soon bring home a bride. Whether he was weak or wicked, who\ncan tell? God has judged and meted him his portion long ere this;\nbut in her heart poor Bertha never blamed him. Yet she grew pale and\nthin; but no one noticed it; and that she spent long nights of weary\nweeping none knew save her guardian angel.\n\n\"It was a still, starry midnight. All alone in her little chamber,\nBertha leaned forth from the casement; but she did not weep.\nSuddenly, as by an irresistible impulse, she hurried from the room,\ndown the winding stairs, through the long garden, down, down the\nsteep hill, till she stood on the brink of the river.\n\n\"Beneath her its waters flowed dark and rippling, and they were cold,\noh! so cold, and her head burned and throbbed so wildly.\n\n\"One plunge, and her woes would be over for ever--thus whispered the\nfiend beside her--one step, and the cool waves would receive her!\n'What is life to thee now?' said a mocking voice in her ear. 'What\neternity of woe canst thou suffer more terrible than this? There is\nno eternity, naught but oblivion. Nearer and nearer thy faithless\nlover hastens with his beautiful bride; how canst thou bear day after\nday to meet him, to dwell under the same roof with thy rival. Have\ncourage, plunge boldly! the waves, more merciful than the world, will\nreceive thee, and to-morrow thou wilt float on their broad bosom, far\naway to the sea.'\n\n\"As the maiden lifted her hands from her eyes, as though to take a\nlast look on the world ere she left it, something white gleamed in\nthe moonlight; it was the stone crucifix at whose feet she had so\noften knelt in days of happiness and innocence, the cross her father\nhad fashioned with hands and heart consecrated to heaven.\n\n\"Trembling in every limb, she dragged her weary feet to the spot; and\nas she threw herself upon her knees before the image, bitter sobs\nburst from her bosom.\n\n\"The sad face of the _dead Christ_ looked down upon her with eyes\nof divine compassion, and brought to her memory and to her heart a\nvision of the dear departed who had wrought this labor of love, and\nof that father's affection, and of his pure and holy teachings, which\nshe had so nearly forgotten for evermore.\n\n\"With a wild cry she clasped the nail-pierced feet, and her whole\nsoul poured itself forth in one deep, wailing supplication.\n\n\"'My God, my God!' she moaned, 'why hast thou forsaken me? Take me\nout of this weary world, as I lie here penitent and fearful, lest\nthe evil one come again to tempt me, and I yield in my weakness and\nbrokenness of heart. The river is black and pitiless, my Saviour; but\nnot so black and pitiless as the world. Save me, oh! save me from\nmyself. How shall I know that thou hast not deserted me? How shall I\nhope that thou wilt pardon, that thou wilt hear my prayer?'\n\n\"The moon, which had shrunk behind a cloud, came softly forth and\nbathed the image and the shrinking figure at its feet in holy light;\nwhile, as the maiden knelt, there passed into her stricken heart a\nquiet, hopeful feeling, and, looking up half timidly, she pushed back\nher loosened hair to meet once more the sad, pitying glance above her.\n\n\"And then she clasped her trembling hands together, and bent her\nweary head low down to the very earth; for around the brow of the\n_dead Christ_ there shone a heavenly halo, blood trickled from the\nthorny crown and reddened the outstretched hands, and from the soft,\ncompassionate eyes great tears were falling.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"Twenty years afterward, the holy Abbess of Ausfeldt lay upon her\ndeath-bed; and the good sisters gathered around her, and even the\nchoristers and little serving-boys; for they all loved her well:\nand there came into her eyes a light, and to her voice a strength,\nneither had known for many a day; and just as I tell it to you, _mein\nHerr_, she told them the story of the _Christ of Ausfeldt_. For her\nname had been Bertha, and it was her own story.\n\n\"And she begged that no Christian might ever pass the sacred spot\nwithout breathing a prayer for her soul. Ah! _mein Herr_, many a time\nhave I passed the holy image and almost fancied it smiled upon me as\nI went.\"\n\nSilently Frau Gretchen folded up her knitting, and with a sigh toward\nthe river, and another toward the ruined castle, stepped slowly down\nthe garden path, humming dreamily as she walked Schiller's song of\n\"The Mill\":\n\n    \"The mill-wheel ceaseless turneth,\n      Beside the mill I know;\n    But she who once did dwell there\n      Hath vanished long ago.\"\n\nCatching her thought, I murmured the plaintive words as I passed out\nof the gateway and down the old, shadowy street. They had \"vanished\nlong ago\"--the great inheritors and the noble line, the faithless\nlover and the pure \"Lily of Ausfeldt.\" But the bright, silvery\nmoonlight made clear and distinct the sculptured image I had come to\nseek. The legend had invested it with an almost living interest, and\nas I paused before it, with as reverential a feeling as I have ever\nknown in the contemplation of earth's grandest Raphaels or Murillos,\nI said half aloud, as I lingered for a moment near the quiet river,\n\"O beautiful old German legends! may you live in your purity and\nholiness in the hearts of the German people as long as the Rhine\nflows through the pleasant courses and by the fruitful vineyards its\nwandering spirit loves.\"\n\n\n\n\nMRS. SETON.[184]\n\n\nElizabeth Ann Bayley, the foundress of the Sisterhood of Charity in\nthe United States, was born in the city of New York, on the 28th\nof August, 1774. Her father, Dr. Richard Bayley, was a physician\nof good family and distinguished position, a member of the Church\nof England, and a man of many natural virtues; but he cared very\nlittle about religion, and wherever his daughter may have got\nthe pious inclinations which distinguished her in girlhood, she\ncertainly did not get them from him. Her mother, whose maiden name\nwas Charlton, died while Elizabeth was a child. Under the care of\nher father, however, Miss Bayley was well educated and trained in\ndomestic duties. At the age of nineteen she married Mr. William Magee\nSeton, eldest son of a prosperous New York merchant, and descendant\nof an ancient Scottish patrician family, whose head is the Earl\nof Winton. Their married life was eminently happy, and for six or\nseven years fortune smiled upon them. Commercial disasters at last\nswept away their property. Dr. Bayley died suddenly of a malignant\nfever contracted in the discharge of his duty as health officer of\nthe port; Mr. Seton's health failed, and in 1803 the husband and\nwife determined to make a voyage to Italy. They suffered a long and\npainful quarantine at Leghorn, and a week after their release Mr.\nSeton died, leaving his wife in a strange land with her eldest child,\na girl of nine years. Mrs. Seton was not, however, without comfort\nand protection. Two estimable Italian gentlemen, Philip and Anthony\nFilicchi, personal friends and business correspondents of the Setons,\ntook her to their home and treated her with most brotherly kindness.\nUnder the influence of the devout household of which they were the\nheads, the religious sentiments of the young widow were gradually\ndeveloped into a strong attraction toward the Catholic Church. She\nwent with the Filicchis to mass; she visited the chapels; she learned\ndevotion to the Blessed Virgin. Early in February, 1804, about six\nweeks after Mr. Seton's death, she sailed for home. But it was not\nthe purpose of Providence that she should be withdrawn so soon from\nassociations which were to influence remarkably her future life. In\na severe storm the vessel in which she had taken passage was so much\ninjured as to be driven back to port. Before another was ready to\nsail, Mrs. Seton's child was taken sick. Close upon the recovery of\nthe child, followed the sickness of the mother; and when, in April,\nthey were ready again to embark, one of the Filicchi brothers,\nAnthony, offered to bear them company. During the long voyage of\nnearly two months, Mrs. Seton made frequent opportunities to talk\nwith her friend upon religion, and before the vessel reached New York\nshe was virtually a convert. The last step cost her much suffering\nand perplexity. It is a step which hardly ever is taken without\npain. In her case there was not only the dread of estrangement from\naffectionate relatives, but she could not face with composure the\ninevitable rupture with a clergyman of the Protestant Episcopal\nChurch who had exercised a great deal of influence upon her character\nand her earlier life. This was the amiable John Henry Hobart,\nafterward Bishop of New York, a man who was deeply and deservedly\nbeloved, and for whom Mrs. Seton in particular cherished a filial\nregard. By Mr. Filicchi's advice, she exposed her difficulties to\nMr. Hobart. He made an elaborate reply to them. He talked with her\nfrequently. He used all his talent, all his scholarship, all his\npersonal influence to keep her in the denomination in which she had\nbeen born. Between Mr. Hobart and her family, on the one hand, and\nthe letters of Philip Filicchi and personal interviews with Anthony,\non the other, her perplexity became painful to the last degree. At\nlast, on Ash-Wednesday, 1805, she was received into the church by\nFather O'Brien, at St. Peter's, in Barclay street. Her soul was now\nat peace, but her temporal troubles had only begun. Old friends and\nnearest relatives turned away horrified and angry, and when soon\nafterward her sister-in-law Cecilia was likewise baptized a Catholic,\nthe indignation of the family knew no bounds. She was without\nfortune, and when she tried to earn a support by teaching, she found\nthe good Protestants of New York afraid to intrust the education of\ntheir children to an emissary of the pope, perhaps a female Jesuit\nin disguise. The kindness of her excellent Italian friends again\ncame to her relief. They charged themselves with the education of\nher children, placed the two sons at Georgetown College, gave her an\nallowance of $400 a year, and begged Mrs. Seton to draw upon them for\nwhatever money she wanted. We believe she was not obliged, however,\nto avail herself of this generous offer.\n\nMrs. Seton seems to have formed, at an early period of her\nwidowhood, the project of devoting herself to God in the service of\na religious order, and her first plan was to go to Canada and join\nsome sisterhood there. It was a part of this scheme, however, that\nher children should enter a house of education at Montreal, where\nshe could still give them the maternal care which their tender years\nrequired. Providential obstacles defeated this design, and thus she\nwas reserved for the establishment in her own country of the noble\ninstitute with which her name will always be connected. We shall\nquote from Dr. White's _Life_ the story of how she began the great\nwork of her career:\n\n     \"Her thoughts were more practically directed to it by the Rev.\n     William Valentine Dubourg, president of St. Mary's College in\n     Baltimore. He became acquainted with her in the following way:\n     Having visited the city of New York in the autumn of 1806, he was\n     one morning offering up the holy sacrifice of mass in St. Peter's\n     Church, when a lady presented herself at the communion-rail, and,\n     bathed in tears, received the Blessed Sacrament at his hands.\n     He was struck with the uncommon deportment and piety of the\n     communicant, and when afterward seated at the breakfast-table\n     with the Rev. Mr. Sibourd, one of the pastors of the church, he\n     inquired who she was, rightly judging in his mind that it was\n     Mrs. Seton, of whose conversion and edifying life he had been\n     informed. Before Mr. Sibourd had time to answer his question, a\n     gentle tap at the door was heard, and the next moment Mrs. Seton\n     was introduced, and knelt before the priest of God to receive\n     his blessing. Entering into conversation with her respecting her\n     sons and her intentions in their regard, he learned from her the\n     views and wishes of Mr. Filicchi, as stated above, and the remote\n     expectation she had of removing herself, with her daughters,\n     to Canada. Mr. Dubourg, who was a man of enlarged views and\n     remarkable enterprise, no sooner became acquainted with the design\n     which she entertained of retiring at some future period into a\n     religious community, for the welfare of herself and her children,\n     than he suggested the practicability of the scheme within the\n     limits of the United States. Mrs. Seton immediately wrote to\n     Bishop Carroll, informing him of what had passed between her and\n     Mr. Dubourg, and requesting his advice in the matter. 'I could\n     not venture,' she says, 'to take a further step in so interesting\n     a situation without your concurrence and direction, which also,\n     I am assured, will the more readily obtain for me the blessing\n     of Him whose will alone it is my earnest desire to accomplish.'\n     After mentioning the particular trials she had to contend with\n     in New York, and assuring Dr. Carroll that she had yielded in\n     condescension to her opponents every point possible consistently\n     with her peace for the hour of death, she continues, 'And for that\n     hour, my dear sir, I now beg you to consider, while you direct me\n     how to act for my dear little children, who in that hour, if they\n     remain in their present situation, would be snatched from our dear\n     faith as from an accumulation of error as well as misfortune to\n     them. For myself, certainly the only fear I can have is that there\n     is too much of self-seeking in pleading for the accomplishment\n     of this object, which, however, I joyfully yield to the will of\n     the Almighty, confident that, as he has disposed my heart to wish\n     above all things to please him, it will not be disappointed in\n     the desire, whatever may be his appointed means. The embracing a\n     religious life has been, from the time I was in Leghorn, so much\n     my hope and consolation, that I would at any moment have embraced\n     all the difficulties of again crossing the ocean to attain it,\n     little imagining it could be accomplished here. But now my\n     children are so circumstanced that I could not die in peace (and\n     you know, dear sir, we must make every preparation) except I felt\n     the full conviction I had done all in my power to shield them from\n     it; in that case, it would be easy to commit them to God.'\n\n     \"While Mrs. Seton was consulting Bishop Carroll in regard to the\n     important arrangement suggested by Mr. Dubourg, this gentleman\n     was conferring with the Rev. Messrs. Matignon and Cheverus, of\n     Boston, upon the same subject. After having weighed the matter\n     attentively, they came to the conclusion that her Canada scheme\n     should be abandoned, and that it would be preferable to exert her\n     talents in the way proposed by Mr. Dubourg. Mr. Cheverus wrote to\n     her, 'hoping that this project would do better for her family,\n     and being sure it would be very conducive to the progress of\n     religion in this country.' It was the opinion, however, of these\n     distinguished clergymen that the execution of the design should\n     not be precipitate; and they therefore advised her, through Mr.\n     Dubourg, 'to wait the manifestation of the divine will--the will\n     of a Father most tender, who will not let go the child afraid\n     to step alone.' The wise forethought of Dr. Matignon led him\n     to believe that Mrs. Seton was called, in the designs of God's\n     providence, to be the instrument of some special mercies that he\n     wished to dispense to the church in this country. 'I have only\n     to pray to God,' he wrote to her, 'to bless your views and his,\n     and to give you the grace to fulfil them for his greater glory.\n     _You are destined, I think, for some great good in the United\n     States_, and here you should remain in preference to any other\n     location. For the rest, God has his moments, which we must not\n     seek to anticipate, and a prudent delay only brings to maturity\n     the good desires which he awakens within us.' Bishop Carroll, in\n     answer to Mrs. Seton's inquiries, informed her that, although he\n     was entirely ignorant of all particulars, yet, to approve the plan\n     of Mr. Dubourg, it was enough for him to know that it had the\n     concurrence of Dr. Matignon and Mr. Cheverus.\"\n\nShe did wait patiently nearly two years. At the end of that time her\npecuniary affairs became so embarrassing, and the inconveniences of\nher situation in New York pressed upon her so severely, that she was\nagain driven to turn her thoughts toward Canada, not so much as a\nrefuge from her own troubles, but as an asylum where her children\nmight be saved from the dangers which threatened their faith in the\nProtestant society of New York. But about this time she met Mr.\nDubourg again, and, in answer to his inquiries, gave him an exact\naccount of her situation. He contemplated the establishment of a\nCatholic school for girls in Baltimore, and invited her to come and\ntake charge of it. Her two boys he offered to admit into St. Mary's\nCollege, free of expense. The school was to be started in a small\nway, in a two-story hired house; and afterward, if God prospered the\nundertaking, a proper building for the institution was to be erected\non ground belonging to the college. Of course, Mrs. Seton accepted\nthe proposition with joy. On the 9th of June, 1808, she embarked for\nBaltimore in a packet, accompanied by her three daughters. It was a\nvoyage, in those times, of between six and seven days. She landed on\nthe morning of the 16th, the feast of Corpus Christi, and drove at\nonce from the wharf to St. Mary's chapel to hear mass.\n\nIt is almost impossible to describe the happiness which beams from\nher letters written in her new home to her friends in Italy, her\nfavorite sisters-in-law, Cecilia and Harriet Seton, (the latter of\nwhom was, at this time, strongly attracted toward the church, while\nthe other, as we have already mentioned, was a fervent convert,) and\nher spiritual advisers. United with her children, in a comfortable\nlittle home close to the seminary and college, where she found in\nthe chapel services an unfailing source of delight, she had all that\nher domestic affections and pious desires could wish. The relatives\nof Mr. Dubourg and other Catholics of the city treated her with\ngreat cordiality, and from many distinguished Protestant families\nshe received marked social attentions. The school was opened in\nSeptember. Mrs. Seton had not thought, so far, of adopting any thing\nlike a conventual rule of life, except perhaps at some remote period;\nbut her daily life was regulated with reference to the consecration\nof all her powers to God, and she mingled no further in society than\na regard for good breeding and gratitude to her friends absolutely\nrequired. The development of her religious schemes was gradual, and\nthe foundation of the new sisterhood appears, from a human point\nof view, the result of accident and curious coincidence, rather\nthan the fruit of direct labor. The first step toward it was the\narrival at Mrs. Seton's Baltimore establishment of a young lady\nfrom Philadelphia, named Cecilia O'Conway. The Rev. Mr. Babade, the\nspiritual director of the school, found this young lady on the point\nof going to Europe to enter a convent. He told her of Mrs. Seton's\nplans, and she determined to go to Baltimore instead. In December,\n1808, Miss O'Conway accordingly became an assistant in the school.\n\nMr. Filicchi had made an offering of one thousand dollars toward the\nrealization of Mrs. Seton's plans; but now came, in a most unexpected\nmanner, a new benefactor, whose liberality gave the enterprise a\ndifferent character and vastly enlarged scope. Among the students of\ntheology at St. Mary's Seminary, was Mr. Samuel Cooper, a gentleman\nof fortune, a Virginian, and formerly well known in fashionable\nsociety. His conversion from Protestantism and determination to study\nfor the priesthood had caused quite as great a sensation as the\nconversion of Mrs. Seton. He now purposed distributing his property\namong the poor, (before his death, we may here add, that he literally\ngave away all he possessed,) and one morning he spoke to Mr. Dubourg\nabout doing something for the instruction of poor children. He had\nnever spoken upon the subject with Mrs. Seton, but he suggested at\nthis interview that possibly she might undertake the work, if he gave\nthe money. It is a very remarkable fact that at this same moment Mrs.\nSeton was thinking of the same thing. That morning after communion\nshe felt a strong desire arise within her to dedicate herself to the\ncare and instruction of poor girls. She went at once to Mr. Dubourg.\n\"This morning,\" she said, \"in my communion, I thought, 'Dearest\nSaviour, if you would but give me the care of poor little children,\nno matter how poor!' and Mr. Cooper being directly before me at his\nthanksgiving, I thought, 'He has money: if he would but give it for\nthe bringing up of poor little children to know and love you!'\" The\nresult of this extraordinary, or we ought rather to say, providential\ncoincidence, was, that Mr. Cooper gave eight thousand dollars for the\nestablishment of the proposed institution, and fixed upon Emmettsburg\nas the place; and there a farm with a very small stone house upon it\nwas bought, in the names of the Rev. William V. Dubourg, Mr. Samuel\nCooper, and the Rev. John Dubois, who was then pastor of several\ncongregations in that part of Maryland, and director at the same time\nof the small school near Emmettsburg, out of which soon afterward\ngrew Mount St. Mary's College. With the college and its illustrious\nfounder the fortunes of Mrs. Seton's institute became intimately\nconnected.\n\nWhile these arrangements were in progress, the new community was\ngradually and quietly forming at the little house in Baltimore. A\nsecond associate, Miss Maria Murphy, of Philadelphia, joined Mrs.\nSeton in April, 1809. In May, two more presented themselves, Miss\nMary Ann Butler, of Philadelphia, and Miss Susan Clossy, of New York.\nIt was not without a painful sense of unfitness that, in obedience\nto the directions of her bishop and spiritual advisers, Mrs. Seton\nundertook the government of this religious household. On the evening\nof the day when the task was definitely laid upon her \"she was\nseized,\" says Dr. White,\n\n     \"with a transport of mingled love and humility in reflecting\n     upon the subject. Being with two or three of her sisters, and\n     the discourse turning upon the probable designs of providence\n     in their regard, Mother Seton became so penetrated with the\n     awful responsibility, and sense of her own incapacity, that she\n     was almost inconsolable. For some moments she wept bitterly in\n     silence; then, throwing herself upon her knees, she confessed\n     aloud the most frail and humiliating actions of her life from her\n     childhood upward; after which she exclaimed in the most affecting\n     manner, her hands and eyes raised toward heaven and the tears\n     gushing down her cheeks, 'My gracious God! You know my unfitness\n     for this task. I who by my sins have so often crucified you, I\n     blush with shame and confusion! How can I teach others who know\n     so little myself, and am so miserable and imperfect?' The sisters\n     who were present were overwhelmed by the scene before them, and,\n     falling on their knees, gave vent to their tears and painful\n     emotions.\"\n\nOn the 1st of June they assumed a religious habit, and the next\nday--Corpus Christi--appeared in it for the first time at church. It\nwas not a regular nun's garb, but an imitation of the dress which\nMrs. Seton had worn ever since the death of her husband. It consisted\nof a black gown with a short cape, similar to a costume she had seen\nin some Italian sisterhood, a white muslin cap with a crimped border,\nand a black band around the head, fastened under the chin. A regular\norder of daily life was established, and Mrs. Seton privately, in\nthe presence of Bishop Carroll, took the ordinary vows of poverty,\nchastity, and obedience for the period of one year. Her associates,\nhowever, did not as yet make any vows, nor was any special religious\ninstitute adopted for their organization. They merely styled\nthemselves \"Sisters of St. Joseph.\" Mr. Dubourg was appointed their\necclesiastical superior.\n\nAbout this time Miss Cecilia Seton fell dangerously ill, and was\nadvised by her physicians to make a visit to Baltimore. Harriet\naccompanied her, and with these two beloved relatives, one of her\ndaughters, and one member of the sisterhood, Mrs. Seton removed to\nEmmettsburg on the 21st of June, finding shelter at first in a little\nlog hut on the mountain, as their own house on the farm was not yet\nready for use. Her happy union with Cecilia and Harriet was for a\nfew months only. Harriet became a Catholic; but in the first fervor\nof her devotion was seized with a fever, and died on the 22d of\nDecember. Cecilia grew better for a short time, and even joined the\ncommunity; but she failed gradually, and died in Baltimore in April.\nDuring the first autumn and winter at Emmettsburg the institution was\nlittle better than a hospital. The farm-house, into which the whole\ncommunity, then numbering ten, moved in the course of the summer,\nconsisted of nothing but two rooms on the ground floor and two in\nthe attic, and these had to afford accommodations not only for the\nten sisters, but for Mrs. Seton's three daughters, her sister-in-law\nHarriet, and two pupils who followed her from Baltimore. Added to the\ndiscomfort of their narrow quarters was a state of poverty so extreme\nthat they sometimes knew not where to look for their next meal. For\ncoffee they substituted a beverage made of carrots and sweetened with\nmolasses. Their bread was of rye and of the coarsest description.\nAt Christmas they thought themselves fortunate in having for dinner\nsmoked herrings and a spoonful of molasses apiece. In the course of\nthe winter, however, a two-story log house of convenient size was\nput up for their use, and now they were able to open a day-school\nand take more boarding-pupils, and so provide at least for their\ndaily expenses. The debt incurred in making these improvements was,\nnevertheless, a severe burden for them, and at one time it seemed\ninevitable that they should sell out and disperse; but charitable\nfriends came to their relief at the last moment, and, little by\nlittle, with many fluctuations of fortune, they got out of their\ndifficulties.\n\nWhen they determined, about the time of coming to Emmettsburg, to\nadopt the rule of St. Vincent of Paul, they sent to France and\nbegged some of the sisters of the society to come over and place\nthemselves at the head of the new American community. The invitation\nwas accepted; but the French government would not allow the sisters\nto sail, so the most that Mrs. Seton could get was a copy of the\nrules and a kind letter of encouragement. These rules, modified to\nmeet the peculiar wants of the new institution, by permitting it to\nreceive pay-scholars in connection with its labors of charity, and\nwith special provisions to allow Mrs. Seton to devote the necessary\ncare to her young children, were approved by Bishop Carroll as the\nrule for the \"Sisters of Charity of St. Joseph,\" and so the community\nwhich has done such a noble work in the United States came into\nexistence with Mrs. Seton for its first mother superior.\n\nWe have no intention of sketching in this brief paper the rise and\ndevelopment of that sisterhood. The log house in \"St. Joseph's\nValley,\" at the foot of Mount St. Mary, has a renown in the history\nof the American church upon which many able pens have enlarged, and\nbranch communities have gone out from it, filling remote parts of the\nUnited States with good works and pious example. Our purpose has been\nmerely to sketch the foundation of the illustrious community, and\ntell our readers something of the trials and sorrows under which Mrs.\nSeton achieved her great work. The rest of her life, though it was\nblessed with the consolation of success in her undertaking, was torn\nwith afflictions not less severe than those she had suffered already.\nHer eldest and her youngest daughters were both taken from her as\nthey were just entering upon a beautiful womanhood, the eldest,\nAnna, being already a member of the community. The deaths among her\nearliest associates were many, and she had also to mourn the loss of\none of the excellent Italian friends who contributed so much to the\nsuccess of her enterprise. But in all her sorrows she preserved the\ncalmness of divine resignation, the charm of her personal presence,\nand the kind, unselfish interest in others which made her so\ngenerally beloved. She died on the 4th of January, 1821; and on the\nwall of the humble chamber where she expired, the following memento\nis now shown:\n\n     \"Here, near this door, by this fireplace, on a poor, lowly couch,\n     died our cherished and saintly Mother Seton, on the 4th of\n     January, 1821. She died in poverty, but rich in faith and good\n     works. May we, her children, walk in her footsteps and share one\n     day in her happiness! Amen!\"\n\nThe two works whose titles we have placed at the head of this article\nare very much alike in the general character of their contents,\nhaving both been prepared from the same materials. Dr. White's _Life_\nhas been many years before the public, and has been much commended\nfor its devotional spirit and appreciative judgment of Mrs. Seton's\nlabors. The larger work, just issued in two handsome volumes, and\nprinted and bound with considerable elegance, has been prepared by\nMrs. Seton's grandson. It has apparently been for the editor a labor\nof love. He has drawn freely from the family records which Dr. White\nused before him, and has quoted much more of Mrs. Seton's letters\nthan his predecessor did, so that the work is almost equivalent to\nan autobiography of the foundress of St. Joseph's, illustrated with\nabundant explanatory notes, and with only so much narrative as seemed\nnecessary to bind the whole together. It is not only an interesting\nmemorial of a very interesting woman, but an important contribution\nto the materials which we hope the coming historian will some day\nreduce into a comprehensive history of the American church.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[184] _Memoir, Letters, and Journal of Elizabeth Seton._ Edited by\nRight Rev. Robert Seton, D.D., Prothonotary Apostolic. 2 vols. 8vo,\npp. 322, 311. P. O'Shea. 1869.\n\n_Life of Mrs. Eliza A. Seton._ By Charles I. White, D.D. 12mo, pp.\n462. John Murphy & Co. 1853.\n\n\n\n\nVIEWS OF THE LABOR MOVEMENT.\n\n\nIf we consider the existing industrial nations with the eye of\npolitical economy or of political philosophy, we cannot help giving\nattention to the deep and wide-spread disagreements which have\nbroken open between the laboring man and his employers. In France,\nSwitzerland, Germany, England, and the United States, the question of\nthe relative rights of labor and capital are presented in many ways,\nso as to compel investigation and action. Trades-unions, co\u00f6perative\nsocieties, industrial congresses, and lastly, that herculean\ninfant, the Labor Reform Party, are extending themselves all over\nthe countries we have just named, and particularly over the United\nStates. They are daily gaining strength and influence. Politicians\nare thinking how to obtain the favor of this party, at the least cost\nto their popularity among other partisans. The larger parties already\noffer to compromise with it, and to give it a plank in their great\nplatforms. It is evident that, if the working-men were to move with\nunanimity to form a labor party, it would be a most formidable rival\nto the others.\n\nThe mere fact of the advent of a new party is not at all startling\nto an American; for since the independence of this country, several\nparties have come into existence, and have been swept away by the\nadvent or success of others; but the working-men's party proposes\nto carry into our legislation and into the administration of the\ngovernment tendencies and principles so diametrically opposite to\nand destructive of any precedent course or system of politics,\nthat the prospect of these tendencies being powerfully re\u00ebnforced\nexcites vehement emotions of anxiety or satisfaction, according to\nthe previous bias of the observer. Just think of it: the question\nis no longer to be only what ought to be the policy of the nation,\nregarded as an unit, toward other nations or toward itself, nor\nwhat are the interests and rights of _territorial_ integers; but\nwhat ought to be the action of one great _component element_ upon\nthe other essential elements of the body politic. The people are\ncalled upon to consider not only the questions relative to tariffs,\ntaxation, banks, currency, national debt, bonds, State rights, or\nthe like; but to answer the complaint of the bone and sinew of the\ncountry against its veins and blood. The brain claims the right\nto decide; and it appears there is a possibility of there being a\npreponderance of brain on the side of the complainants. The spread\nof education produces astonishing consequences; and among the rest\nthis: science is becoming so common that the great cannot monopolize\nit all, and much of it is going to take service among the poor.\nHence, able and eloquent speakers and writers are now contending\nthat labor does not receive its full and merited reward, and that\nthe laborer is oppressed by his employers and the laws. Hence, too,\na great number and variety of novel measures and institutions are\ningeniously contrived and plausibly advocated for the avowed purpose\nof overthrowing some of the most venerated doctrines of orthodox\npolitical economy.\n\nAs in other cases, this movement develops every grade of opinion\nand feeling. A rich philanthropist thinks more education and better\nlodging-houses, at less cost, will be a good and sufficient remedy;\nwhile among the poor the most violent measures are sometimes\npreferred. Even agrarianism is proposed, and incendiarism attempted,\nin order to redress whatever wrongs the toiler really suffers, or\nimagines he suffers, unjustly. Between the two, we have mild and\nharmless contrivances, such as mutual aid societies, and co\u00f6perative\nshops and stores, intended to diminish the causes of pauperism or\nalleviate its bad effects.\n\nAll the plans, of course, differ, according to the idea the\nproposers have formed of the nature of the causes of the social\nmalady. Some regard the miseries of the laboring classes as the\naccumulated effects of many mere accidents, principally personal\nimprudence and vice; and, since they think there is no radical\ncause, refuse to hear of a radical remedy. Others admit radical\ncauses, such as (1) a bad form of government, or (2) the selfish,\nthe uncharitable, the unchristian spirit of the world, or (3) the\ntoo rapid increase and local crowding of population, or (4) the\nprogressive individualization of capital, or (5) popular ignorance,\nor (6) the onerous obligations of marriage and parentage, or (7) what\nthey call the slavery of woman, or (8) the present land-ownership\nsystem, or some other prevalent mode of acquiring property, such as\n(9) usury, (10) monopoly, (11) rents, (12) heirships, (13) tariffs,\n(14) banking, (15) speculation, and the like. Above all these looms\nthe fact, whatever may be the cause, that capital is becoming less\nand less in the hands of those who produce it, and is growing larger\nand larger in the hands of cunning or lucky exploiters.\n\nThe variety of opinions with regard to what the remedy should be has\nproduced correspondingly various institutions, parties, and laws.\nSo we have (1) poor laws, vagrant laws, work-houses and reformatory\nprisons, for juvenile delinquents and others; (2) charity hospitals,\nasylums for the widows, the orphans, the deaf and dumb, the blind,\nthe crippled, the aged, the infirm, or the insane; warming-houses,\nlying-in hospitals, poor mothers' cradle-houses, gratuitous\nsleeping-halls, soup-houses, asylums for unruly or destitute children\nof both sexes, gratuitous dispensaries of medicines, Magdalen\nreformatory houses, Sisters of Charity, Brothers of Mercy, Little\nSisters of the Poor, Christian Brothers' schools, public schools,\netc.; (3) visiting confraternities to bring succor home to the\npoor, such as fuel-giving, furnishing provisions or nursing, and\nprison-visiting societies; (4) organizations to support charitable\ninstitutions by means of fairs, lotteries, concerts, spectacles,\npicnics, tournaments, and other amusements; (5) labor-protective\nunions, workmen's guilds and fellowships, trades-unions and labor\ncombinations, savings banks, co\u00f6perative factories, co\u00f6perative\nstores, mutual aid societies, burial societies, labor reform party;\n(6) Shaker, Rappist, Moravian, and Ballouite communities; (7) Owenite\n_Harmonias_, Cabetite _Familisteries_, Fourierite _Phalansterias_,\nwomen's rights societies, Mormon harems, and artistic brothels of\ncomplex association.\n\nEvery one who reads this list will find in it the mention of some\ninstitution he believes to be either useless or pernicious. The\nobjections would be curiously heterogeneous. An infidel would\nsuppress all those having their root or support in religion. A\npolitical economist will protest against working-men's combinations\nto raise the price of labor. A Christian deplores the attempts of\nsocialists to establish institutions from which God is excluded. A\nsectarian sees with pain the success of charities founded by other\ncongregations. The Roman Catholic (as such) must also have his\nopinions of the relative merits of the corporations that appear to\nhim to rise sometimes out of the sea of sin, and sometimes out of the\nwaters of life. We, for ourselves, have some peculiar ideas, gathered\nfrom this point of view.\n\nIt would be vain obduracy on the part of a Catholic to close his eyes\nto the deep and wide-spread clamor of the voices, great and small,\nthat are now discussing \"social science,\" and proposing solutions\nof the \"labor question.\" These matters, in every imaginable manner,\nare obtruding themselves upon the attention of the manufacturer,\npolitician, and legislator; and must soon command that of the farmer\nand merchant; and by and by, even the solicitude of the church.\nIndeed, we should not say \"by and by;\" for already, while the world\nis agitated by the strikes and the labor congresses, while the\nparliament of Great Britain, through its committees, is carrying\non the minutest investigations of the eight-hour and higher wages\nmovements, our holy father at Rome has pronounced public allocutions\nagainst _socialism_.\n\nVery certainly society, the state, and the church will soon deeply\nfeel the effects of the agitation of mind and feeling going on\namong the working people. The allocution of his holiness shows that\nthis consequence has not escaped his penetrating intellect. He sees\nclearly that the agitation will be injurious or produce beneficial\nresults according to the principles, Christian or anti-christian,\nthat shall prevail within it. To avoid or prevent the fermentation\nand its products is impossible. It must take place; and the question\nis, how to make it yield clear and palatable wine. To think that the\nchurch can ignore it, and go on as if nothing were shaking the body\npolitic, and disturbing the souls of the people, would be to stultify\nourselves. The issue raised is too important, and the tendency to\nrevolution too powerfully pressed to be disregarded and treated\nwith contempt. See the great number of societies the workmen have\nformed in every Northern State. These societies have already drawn a\nmajority of the skilled operatives, and there is a prospect of their\nfinally absorbing all the working-people. The agricultural laborers\nalready give signs of sympathy with the movement.\n\nOf course, we understand that it matters not to the church what\neconomic or political party governs the state. The controversies\nbetween Democrat and Republican, free-trade and protection, labor and\ncapital, are mere worldly matters, and do not concern the church; but\nthe coming issue has a deeper cause than a mere question of temporal\nexpediency. In the midst of the unanimous demand for a change the\nmen of labor are making, we can also perceive, not only that the\nwished-for changes are fundamental and revolutionary, but also that\nthe leaders are actuated by very different principles, and aim at\ndifferent ultimates, and that these relate to the very origin, basis,\nand end of private and public morality and religion. Some move by the\nlight of Christianity, some by that of natural reason as exhibited by\nthe modern infidel schools of philosophy--naturalism, rationalism,\nindividualism, positivism, and evolutionism. Very different motives\nand very different hopes move the principal agitators, though they\nnow act with great unanimity. The working multitude, who complain of\nwrong, and seek a practical remedy, have not yet looked beyond the\nsurface of the speeches, or into the details of the plans of their\nprincipal men. It suffices that these say they have found the proper\nremedy. They have gained the confidence of followers merely from\nevincing a knowledge of the grounds of complaint, and giving eloquent\nexpression to their sympathy. The working-men hardly discuss the\nmerits of the particular _methods_ of reform proposed; and they will\nfollow one or the other class of leaders as it happens that either\nsucceeds in captivating them by the arts of ambition. The difference\nin the possible consequences is immense; but first the leaders, each\nwith his followers, will act together to break up the customs, laws,\nand institutions by which the interests of the laboring men are\ninjuriously affected; and not till they accomplish this against the\ncommon enemy shall we know (unless we prepare the way) whether the\ncounsels of infidelity or of Christianity will be followed in the\nreconstruction.\n\nThe work of determining the tendency one way or the other is\ngoing on even now. If we scrutinize societies, institutions, and\nparties formed for the purpose of relieving the evils that poverty\ncauses among the people, we shall find it easy to class them under\ndiscordant heads. (1) Those founded by Christian charity, wholly\ninnocent of any political purpose--works of disinterested mercy\nand brotherly love. (2) Those invented by political economists and\nlawyers, merely as a means of favoring capitalists and the personal\naccumulation of property, or to suppress pauperism and vagrancy,\nsuch as monopolies, poor-houses, and the like. (3) Those contrived\nfrom motives of private prudence and economy only, such as mutual\naid societies, co\u00f6perative stores, etc. (4) Those proceeding on the\nground that the laboring classes will never get their just portion of\nworldly goods and enjoyments otherwise than through political action,\nas, for instance, the national labor reform party. (5) The Utopias\nand secret societies imagined by infidels.\n\nIt is this last-mentioned class whose theories, acts, and progress\ncompel us to consider them from a religious point of view. They\nare the offspring of Campanella, of Nicolas of Munster, and of\nGiordano Bruno. From these sprang Bolingbroke, Voltaire, Rousseau,\nD'Holbach, and a host of mere sceptics and speculators like\nthem. Then came the chiefs of the French revolution, Marat and\nRobespierre. Next, in 1797, Baboeuf opposed even Robespierre as\nbeing too backward and aristocratic, and formed a conspiracy to\nmassacre the rich, and proclaim sumptuary laws from a mountain of\nthe slain. After him appeared Owen, trying to realize the insane\nidea of conciliating atheism with charity. He was followed by St.\nSimon, who sought to create another contradiction, that of an\naristocracy of philanthropists; governors and princes of equality,\nwho, however, never found any subjects. Contemporaneously, Fourier\ninvented a wonderful scheme for procuring in labor association\nthe most luxurious pleasures and licentious indulgences. Close at\nhis heels came Cabet, continuing Owen's method on less offensive\nconditions. Last of all, Noyes is trying to conceal the wolf of\nbeastly promiscuousness under the robe of the pure lamb of Christian\nlove. These are the most notorious of those who may be denounced as\nthe anti-Christian agitators of the labor question. Socialism is the\nname they have inscribed on their banner; and hence, since all these\ninventors and champions have also been unanimous in waging war,\ndirectly or indirectly, against Christianity, their socialism itself\nshould be opposed by all good Christians.\n\nBut, unfortunately, socialism, while opposing or seeking to undermine\nChristianity, succeeds in seducing many by the promises of sensual\nenjoyments she makes. Indeed, the rationale of every sect or party\nconcerned in the labor movement begins with the main proposition\nwhich makes them and even infidel socialism acceptable to multitudes,\nnamely, that society or the state is under obligation to relieve\nthe miseries of the poor, and if possible to eradicate pauperism\nitself. If any deny that society or the law has done any injustice\nto labor--if, for instance, the legislator who framed the poor laws\nthought the pauper had nobody but himself to blame--he nevertheless\nadmits that pauperism is not merely a personal misfortune, but a\npublic one; that pauperism must be regarded as a social malady or\nsore, which, though it may not be radically cured, must and ought\nto be treated at least with palliatives, so as to prevent it from\nbecoming fatal to the body politic. Thus, while attempting to\nexonerate the state, even the orthodox politician admits that the\nbody politic is deeply afflicted by the virus of pauperism, and\ntherefore himself posits the very question he would fain ignore. The\npoor join issue with him, and argue that from the day England and\nNorth Germany wrested the care of the poor from the monasteries, the\nstate assumed the responsibility of their distress, and is bound to\nmake such laws as will radically cure all misery. The contest is now\nraging in every direction, not only on the question of _Who_ shall\ntake care of the poor, but _How_ shall they be cared for, and _What_\nare the rights and remedies they are entitled to?\n\nThe origin and object of the controversy is agreed on by every one.\nThe dissent is upon what shall be the principle and the method\naccording to which the desired relief shall be gained. Infidelity,\nunder the name of socialism, would have it done without God, on\ngrounds of naked natural equity or rational justice. It would act\nindependently of religion, Christian faith and Christian charity. It\nwould push the church aside, and presume to finish in another name\nthe work our Lord Jesus Christ commenced more than eighteen centuries\nago.\n\nHence, unless one prefers to hide his head in the sand, with the vain\nnotion that the immense flood roaring and rising round us does not\nexist, because he does not see or hear it, it is time for him, if he\nis a Catholic, to consider from the point of view of his faith what\nstand he should take, and what is his duty toward the poor and toward\nsociety in the crisis the struggles of laborers for power in the\nstate will soon bring on in this country of universal suffrage. It is\nnot merely a question of giving and distributing alms and assistance\nthat is to be solved, but great problems of social organization and\nrights are put before us. We must decide, (1) what there is in the\nlabor movement that religion approves and encourages; (2) what there\nis in it religion condemns; and (3) what it contains that is merely\ntemporal or indifferent to the church.\n\nIt certainly has something of each of these three elements.\n\nIn any way the matter is approached it presents a religious as well\nas a political question to be solved, a religious as well as a\npolitical duty to be performed; for it involves the rights of the\npoor on us, and our duty to them _as Christians_. What if the demands\nof the laborers were just, and that, notwithstanding this, we should\noppose them? While socialism, as a whole, should be opposed, it\nis admitted that the present poor-laws and charitable institutions\nare insufficient, and some more thorough system of relief must be\nadopted. The working-men insist that this shall be done, and for\nthis purpose claim to elect those who are to govern the state, and\nmake the laws. Religion cannot neglect to interfere without leaving\nmultitudes of souls of the poor to be seduced into the naturalism,\nsensualism, and infidelity the socialists purpose as the consummation\nof the movement. Nor does the question of our religious duty toward\nthe poor in this crisis cease to demand an answer upon a mere\nrefutation of socialistic theories. It does not suffice to show that\nthe Utopias of Baboeuf, Owen, Cabet, St. Simon, Fourier, and Noyes\nare abominable, but the just principle of economic distribution must\nbe found and applied under penalty of eternal anarchy. The negation\nof one medicine as unfit does not dispense from finding another that\nwill cure, when, indeed, a disease exists; and we take it for granted\nthat no Christian who has heard or read of the successive burdens\nand hardships of the poor operatives and peasants of Europe will say\nthat there is no disease to be cured, or who is heartless enough\nto abandon the case on the ground that it is incurable. Certain it\nis that the hard-working poor will not concede that they suffer\nno injustice--will not cease to demand permanent relief; and if\nreligion ignores, denies, or abandons the sick, they will resort to\nphilosophical quacks, who will lead them to their moral and religious\nruin. Worse; as foreseen by his holiness Pius IX., they will repeat\nthe apostasy of the French revolution, and with the same sacrilegious\nand despotic spirit, but with more cunning and method, prohibit\nreligion itself.\n\nTheir main lever in accomplishing this will be the labor movement, if\nthey succeed in controlling it. Hence, what _we_ shall do with it, is\na question of vital importance.\n\nAt the outset the Catholic must give a negative answer to all\npropositions and plans for disturbing _vested rights_ or violently\nresisting the laws, or lawful authority, under pretence of\nestablishing justice. This proposition needs no argument to show its\nwisdom and conformity with divine law.\n\nNext, the Catholic will oppose agrarianism, which is the _forcible_\ntaking of all property to distribute it in _equal_ portions among\nthe people. This is forced equality; a very different thing from\nassociated labor.\n\nFinally, the Catholic will also even oppose association when\nshe would organize corruption and irreligion under the guise of\nphilanthropy and fraternity.\n\nNo doubt these are the features of the labor movement his holiness\nPius IX. designated under the general title of socialism when, on the\n17th of June last, in his allocution to the cardinals, he said:\n\n     \"Thus, to-day we see on one side revolution, bringing in her train\n     THAT _socialism_ which repudiates morals and religion and denies\n     God himself; while on the other side we behold the faithful and\n     true, who calmly and firmly expect that good principles will\n     resume their salutary empire, and that the merciful designs of\n     Deity will be realized.\"\n\nThe plain duty of lopping off socialism, and of casting it aside,\nbeing performed, there remains, (1) reform through just legislation;\n(2) legal contracts for mutual relief; (3) co\u00f6peration or association\nof work-fellows; and (4) the realization of perfect Christian charity.\n\nWe think we could prove that all the purely secular remedies--such\nas co\u00f6operation, mutuality, and the like--are delusive, and in\nthemselves inadequate; but it is not our present purpose to examine\nthis branch of the subject. A volume would not suffice. It is only\nnecessary to remark, _en passant_, that there is nothing in the\norganizations included under the general name of co\u00f6peration contrary\nto religion; but at the same time there is nothing in co\u00f6peration\nthat springs from religion; it is a mere economic contrivance. It is\nnot a _religious_ solution of the problem of social distress; and\nsince we have argued that religion must be able to give a temporal\nas well as a spiritual answer to the complaints of the poor, we will\npass by all minor and transitional questions, and consider only what\nthe earthly Utopia of faith and charity would be; and inquire what\nmethod might now be adopted to inaugurate the practical reign of\nChristian fellowship, in which the laborer would necessarily reap the\nreward he is justly entitled to.\n\nYes, religion has also its earthly new Eden, that will give full\nsatisfaction to the over-burdened and under-paid workman. Let us try\nto picture it in our imagination, in order to judge from a study of\nthe ideal whether it would be possible to make it a reality. To do\nthis, we should begin by stating the principles on which this ideal\nshould be founded; and we should also mention such historical facts\nas may serve to enlighten us on the practical application of those\nprinciples.\n\nThe Scriptures and the church teach that there are degrees of merit,\nbeginning with that minimum of righteousness sufficient to save us\nfrom damnation. From that point the degrees rise one above the other\ntill they ascend beyond the regions of _prohibition_ and _precept_\nto the realms of _counsel_ and _perfection_. There is the man who is\nwilling to obey God so far only as to refrain from violating the\nten commandments. Then there are those who, besides this, give alms\nand do other works of mercy for Christ's sake; and finally, there\nare those who, seeking for the Holy Spirit, labor for and do works\nnecessary to attain _perfection_.\n\nExcuse this positing of doctrines familiar to us all. They are stated\nas parts of our argument.\n\nAmong the immediate disciples of Christ there were not only\nshepherds, mechanics, fishermen, physicians, and farmers; but also\ntradesmen, and even lawyers and soldiers. Some were rich, and\nnevertheless were regarded as having merited heaven. Zaccheus is\nan instance of this class; to please God, he gave as much as half\nof his goods to the poor. He went only half-way in perfection. It\nis clear that if people generally refrained from committing any\nof the offences mentioned in the ten commandments, justice would\nreign, and therefore many social grievances of the worst kind\nwould disappear. True, this would not suffice to give affirmative\nhappiness, but it would be the negation of positive moral woe.\nWorks of mercy are necessary to dry all tears; and charity has the\ngenial warmth that makes the smile bloom again on the countenances\nof those who have wept. Now, charity is first pity and sympathy; and\nthen it is sacrifice. It has beautiful demonstrations of love in\nwords and demeanor, but it fully realizes itself in sacrifices; and\nthese sacrifices are of every extent. Some are small but cheerfully\noffered, as the widow's mite. Some are proportionately large, as the\napportionment Zaccheus made; but some are unlimited, as the triple\nvow of poverty, chastity, and obedience of the regular clergy.\n\nJesus said to him, _If_ thou wilt be PERFECT, go, sell what thou\nhast, and give to the poor; and thou shalt have treasure in heaven:\nand come, and follow me. (Matt. xix. 21.) Blessed are ye (willingly)\npoor, for yours is the kingdom of God. (Luke vi. 20; Matt. v. 3.)\nWhere thy treasure is, there is thy heart also. (Matt. vi. 21.) You\ncannot serve God and Mammon. (Matt. vi. 24.) He who hath left house,\netc., ... for my sake and for the gospel, ... shall ... receive a\nhundred times as much, _now in this time_; ... and in the world to\ncome life everlasting. (Mark x. 29, 30.)\n\nFrom these and numerous similar speeches of our Lord, and from a\nspirit of gratitude, his disciples were inspired with the desire of\nattaining perfection. Those who remained steadfast notwithstanding\nthe crucifixion, or rather because of the crucifixion, gathered\naround the apostles and pronounced the vow of poverty. \"All they that\nbelieved were together, and had all things in common.\" (Acts ii. 44.)\n\nThis is the first instance of _real_ communism that ever occurred\nin the world, and it was the logical product of the teachings of\nour Lord and his apostles. That it was the logical product, could\nbe easily shown by argument on the language of Scripture; but it\nsuffices that it was approved by Peter and the other apostles. They\nknew best; and, indeed, gave example by becoming members of the\ncommunity. That it was the first instance of real communism, we\nassert without forgetting the Essenes, the Lacedemonians, and the\nlike, from whose systems it is easy to distinguish the apostolic\ncommunity of goods.\n\nAnd here we ask particular attention to the grand and glorious trait\nwhich distinguishes Christian _reductionism_[185] from socialism,\nagrarianism, co\u00f6peration, and all other worldly plans of association.\n\nThe object of worldly association is merely to benefit its own\nmembers in secular welfare. It has no outflowing. It is a partnership\nfor distribution of products, profits, pleasure, or knowledge among\nthe members, contributors, or co\u00f6perators only. Thus it was with the\nEssenes. The principle and purpose of their community of goods was\n_not_ the extension of its benefits to the neighbor. They had and\nenjoyed their wealth among themselves exclusively. Their associations\nwere just as selfish as any individual; the only difference being\nthat in one case it is a single person and in the other a company\nthat is selfish, and clannishly withholds its own from the rest of\nthe world. They did not practise true charity, that charity which\ngoes beyond home. The communication of the Essenes began and _ended_\nat home. It did not, therefore, resemble the Christian charity\ndescribed by St. Paul; they had no idea of it. Modern society\nhas many examples of participation like that of the Essenes. The\nfree-masons and other mutual aid societies are of this kind.\n\nOf course, reciprocity or co\u00f6peration existed in the apostolic\ncommunity; but this was only incidental and secondary. One of the\nmain elements of charity is its universality, and therefore it\nextends far beyond mere mutuality. It gives--it is not a contract\nof exchange or insurance. Associations of the Christian kind do not\nlimit themselves to themselves. Besides mutual help, they give help\nto any and all men. Indeed, most frequently Christian charitable\ninstitutions entirely lose sight of any mutuality. The members, as\nit were, forget themselves individually, think of no restitution,\nand have their whole attention and sentiments, with those of the\ncompany, fixed beyond their own wants and upon the alleviation of\nthe burdens and pains of the poor in general. Every reader knows of\nmany illustrations of this difference. We need not mention particular\ncases.\n\nIndeed, the very nature of Christian charity precludes the limiting\nof benefits to the members of a society. Therefore, the moment any\ncompany resolves to contribute or work for the purpose of a division\namong its own members exclusively, it can have no claim to be acting\non the principle of charity. Charity ignores any such distinction;\nshe tends toward all men indiscriminately; she feels for them all\nalike, as brethren and neighbors; she sympathizes with all; she is\nspontaneous, she is expansive, she radiates. She loves; and her love\noverflows: then runs in diverging rills to every door.\n\nAssociation recommends itself to the Christian from other\nconsiderations than those of economy, security against want,\nmultiplication of productions, and increase of wealth. He enters into\nassociation to increase his power with God, to attract grace, to\nset up a common defence against sin, to have the strength of union\nagainst Satan, to have more time and opportunity to do good, and\nto do it more efficiently. The fundamental motive of the Christian\nthroughout is love of God and man, piety and mercy. It is the spirit\nof sacrifice; it is actuated by no prospect of self-advantage; or,\nat worst, it expects personal advantage only through and under the\nuniversal good. This was the absolute self-abnegation and exuberance\nof love out of which the apostolic community spontaneously sprang.\n\nIt is an error to suppose that the primitive Christians abandoned\ntheir community of things upon their first dispersion or flight from\npersecution. (Acts viii. 1.) It continued long afterward, as we learn\nfrom the fathers of the church. Justin Martyr, (_Apol._ c. 2,)\ndescribing Christian society as it was in his time, (A.D. 150,) says,\n\n     \"We who formerly delighted in adultery, now observe the strictest\n     chastity; we who used the charms of magic, have devoted ourselves\n     to the true God; and we who valued money and gain above all\n     things, now _cast what we have in common, and distribute to every\n     man according to his necessities_.\"\n\nThe writings of other primitive fathers contain similar passages.\n\nIt needs no argument to make a Catholic see how the _solemn_ vows of\npoverty, chastity, and obedience must be a development or consequence\nof the manners and customs of the primitive Christians. Even in\nJustin's time, community of goods was the prevailing practice among\nChristians; but as the faith spread itself widely, and as whole\nnations were converted, the great majority were incapable of that\nintense zeal and of those aspiring sentiments that may achieve\nperfection. Those who aimed so high were in a small minority when\ncounted apart from the total population; and they found it necessary\nto seek freedom and escape persecution by resorting to solitude,\nor to fortify themselves against the general lukewarmness by\nsolemn vows, or to resist the influence of the world by separate\nassociation. Hence, at first, those who sought to attain perfection\nfled to the desert, imitating the ancient prophets. They were\nthe Theban hermits or anchorites. Then appeared companionship in\nmortification in the unital homes of the cenobites and monks. Then,\nlong afterward, came the companies of militant charity: the Jesuits,\nSisters of Charity, Lazarists, and many others.\n\nPersons who wish to rise above the ordinary degree of piety, above\nthe common level of Catholic practice, generally attempt full\nperfection. Animated by the spirit of self-sacrifice and an ardent\ndesire to imitate our Lord, they not only devote themselves to\npoverty and obedience, but also to chastity. They are not content\nwith less than the three vows, the fulness of perfection.\n\nJust here, we wish the reader's attention to an important point,\nthrough which we expect to arrive at a solution of the questions\npropounded in the beginning of this article. It is that, though\ngenerally we see the \"three vows\" practised together, we would\nbe in error if we supposed that they are inseparable, and that\nCatholicity admits only of the two extremes--the common level or\ntriple perfection. On the contrary, among the wonders and beauties of\nCatholicity there is the wonder and the beauty of her myri-multiform\nadaptability to the holy wants of all dispositions, tastes, and\nnationalities. The plasticity with which Catholicity suits herself\n(without deterioration and with always an upward tendency) to every\ndegree and variety, of practical virtue, is marvellous. She is,\nindeed, all things to all men without ceasing to be the spouse of\nChrist. Hence, within her fold there are, besides the common law\nof faith and discipline, multitudes of approved forms of devotion,\ngiving egress and exteriority to every peculiarity of good impulse\nthe soul may experience. There are saints of every trade, occupation,\nhabitude, and condition to be imitated. There are many kinds of\nconfraternities, sodalities, societies, and orders--both lay and\nclerical--formed to accomplish every good work. The number of\nthese ways, rules, methods, forms, and associations is so great, a\ndescription of them all fills volumes.\n\nSometimes a number of laymen combine to do a charitable work without\nforming any vow. Often they make only _simple_ vows; but many engage\nthemselves by _solemn_ vows. In some cases the counsel of chastity\nis followed without that of poverty; the secular priesthood is an\nexample of this kind. Sometimes the vow of poverty has been made\nwithout that of celibacy, as in the case of Ananias and Saphira.\n\nSt. Barnabas, in the first century; Saints Justin, Julian, and\nLucian, in the second century; Saint Clement of Alexandria,\nTertullian, Origen, and St. Cyprien, in the third century; and\nArnobius and Lactantius, in the fourth century, say (Bergier, vol.\ni. p. 380) that between Christians all things were in common; but\nwe easily gather from other statements and allusions in their works\nthat they did not mean a community by _virtue of any positive_\nRIGHT or precept. They meant the generous liberality, the voluntary\nself-sacrifice, that characterized the manners and customs of the\nChristians. None asserted conjoint ownership or other _title_\nto their neighbor's property, nor did any pretend to demand\nauthoritatively, as the obligation of a contract, a participation or\nuse exigible by virtue of the membership of Christ; but all, actuated\nby Christian fellow-feeling, gave spontaneously and freely, so that\nnone were allowed to suffer from want of subsistence. The effect was\nthe same, or better, than if all things were in common by virtue of\na legal obligation or contract. It was the same as if all Christians\nhad made a solemn vow to deprive themselves, in order to be able\nto relieve all cases of suffering poverty they knew of. The vow of\npoverty has no other temporal object. Its theory is the doctrine of\ncharity, not that of any natural social right.\n\nGradually this unmeasured charity appeared to diminish; for the\nwhole empire being theoretically though not practically converted to\nChristianity, the Christians at heart were lost in the immense crowd\nof merely nominal believers, and were but partially able to know\neach other and communicate. At the same time, so widely and deeply\ncorrupt were the people, even the poor, that _charity herself was\nforced to be cautious_. In fact, the number of sincere Christians,\nand therefore of charitable persons, had not diminished; but was so\nsmall _in proportion_ to the number of the distressed, that even by\nbestowing their all they could produce no sensible diminution of the\ngeneral misery.\n\nThe situation was almost identical with that of the present time; and\nthe plainest remedy would have been then, _as it would be now_, a\ngreat augmentation of the number of Christians imbued with the spirit\nof charity and disposed to self-sacrifice.\n\nThe Catholic Church made many glorious efforts to effect this\ncure by increasing the number of the faithful and true, and by\norganizing her charitable agencies. She gave birth to those missions\nand institutions by which the spiritual nature and intention of\nChristianity was preserved, perpetuated, and disseminated, even\nthrough barbarian conquest and feudal oppression. To be able to\ndevote themselves to promoting their own and their neighbor's\nsalvation, and to help the sick, the oppressed, and the poor,\nthe members of the monastic and chivalric orders generally bound\nthemselves by \"three vows;\" and if they ever omitted any one of the\nthree, it was the vow of poverty. The holy knights, for instance,\nfrequently vowed themselves to chastity and obedience; but not always\nto poverty. Chastity and obedience are not considerably thwarted by\nthe possession of worldly riches; and they may without very serious\ndetriment dispense with the restraints of poverty: but poverty is\nvery difficult without chastity; for the hardships of poverty are\ngrievously multiplied by the necessity of providing for a family.\nHence, even in the remotest times, the orders have added the vow of\nchastity to that of poverty.\n\nDoubtless there have been, since apostolic times, many isolated\ninstances of the vow of poverty being made by _an entire_ FAMILY.\nAmong the tertiary or lay brethren of the regular orders, cases of\nsuch a combination might easily have happened. We take it for granted\nthat if a husband _and_ wife make the vow of poverty, they would\n(if otherwise correct) be accepted as a tertiary or lay brother and\nsister of any regular order bound by the three vows, such as the\nFranciscans, Jesuits, etc. We know, however, of only one recorded\ninstance of there having existed, since apostolic times, a distinctly\nand duly organized congregation, sodality, company, or community of\n_married_ Catholics living under the obligations of a solemn or even\nsimple vow of poverty. The schismatics or heretics cannot even adduce\na single instance; for, as already noted, their societies are not\nwillingly poor, but the object of their association is comfort and\nwealth.\n\nThe one instance I refer to is that of the Jesuit REDUCTIONS in\nParaguay.\n\nYet, long before the beautiful results obtained by the Jesuit fathers\nin Paraguay, the good such establishments might do had been clearly\nforeseen by excellent and learned Catholics. That confessor of the\nfaith, Sir Thomas More, who was beheaded by Henry VIII. for refusing\nthe oath of supremacy, wrote the first _Utopia_, founded on the idea\nof a community of goods among a whole people. Since that day the\nidea has fermented, and will not allow the world to rest until it is\npractically fulfilled by a _Christian_ people; for it is a Christian\nidea, based only on Christian motives, and wholly impracticable\noutside of the Christian religion. It was to emulate the example\nset by the Jesuits that several Christian, though schismatic or\nheretical, societies have been partially successful in realizing this\nidea. These are the Moravians, Rappists, Shakers, and Ballouists; but\nwe are satisfied the work of realization must be resumed by Catholic\nhands, and with Catholic motives, and on Catholic grounds, before it\ncan be permanently and beautifully successful.\n\nHere several questions present themselves together:\n\n1. What are the distinctive motives and grounds of an apostolic\nreduction to the rule of community?\n\n2. What essential Catholic conditions should the organic rule of such\nan establishment embody?\n\n3. Would such establishments tend to disseminate the faith and\nstrengthen the church?\n\n4. Are the times propitious, and do surrounding circumstances demand\nmissionary attention to this matter?\n\n5. Is there place in the economy of the church militant for the\noperation of communities of families having property in common?\n\nWe fear that the editor would not allow the space necessary for an\nelaborate answer to these questions. We will therefore endeavor to be\nvery brief.\n\n1. A socialist would say that the only motive for association\nis a desire to better our worldly condition; that, therefore,\nassociation is recommendable only so far as it facilitates increased\nproduction, thorough economy, equitable distribution, and greater\nsecurity; and that it is only by convincing men of these tangible\nadvantages that they will be induced to give up individualism for\ncombinism. So their phalansteries and familisteries are nothing\nbut contrivances to save and gain time, labor, and money for the\nbenefit of the company, and in rivalry with, and exclusive of, every\nother company and the remainder of mankind. It is only the old\nprinciple of self-interest, covetousness, greed of gain, love of\nmoney, exercised by partnerships or corporations instead of single\npersons. Thus, some of these companies will get very rich, while\nothers, though burning with covetousness and discontent, will fall\ninto great poverty. But besides selfish motives moving men, there\nare others more powerful and certainly more Christian. For instance,\na _catholic_ community of goods would rest on directly the opposite\nof self-interest, and be induced by charity counteracting the excess\nof egoism. True, as in the other case, association would be only a\nmeans, and also a guarantee of safety, economy, and increase; but\nhow different the ulterior object! The final causes of a catholic\n\"reduction\" to community of goods would be: (1) to live apart from\nthe evil example of the world; (2) to sustain and encourage one\nanother in the faith and its practices; (3) to secure the rearing\nof children in the practice of religion; (4) to be able to hear\nmass oftener, and indulge more frequently and expansively in prayer\nand other sweet and consoling devotions; (5) to save and increase\nwealth indeed, though _not for self_, not for the company and its\nmembers beyond the absolute necessities of life, but _for external\ncharity_--distribution among the poor neighbors, or the establishment\nof similar companies; (6) the \"reductionists\" (We venture to\ngeneralize the name they had in Paraguay) would work in a spirit of\nself-sacrifice to please God; (7) they would offer up their voluntary\nprivations as acts of love, penance, and prayer; (8) they would\nbe actuated by aspirations to merit grace and attain perfection;\n(9) be moved by a desire to display faith before the world, and\nto concentrate its light so that it might radiate far and wide;\nand finally, (10,) they would cherish the thought that their zeal\nmight be efficient in strengthening the influence, facilitating the\noperations, and increasing the glory of the church. What an immense\ndifference between reductionism and socialism!\n\n2. The essential conditions of such an association would be the\nvows of poverty and obedience, under such sanctions and guarantees\nand inspired by such hopes as only the Catholic Church can give;\nand, since the society would admit persons living in marriage, and\nsince the church teaches the indissolubility of the marriage-tie,\nthe _unity of the consent_ of husband _and_ wife to the acceptance\nof these vows previous to admission. The vow of poverty would be\na _sine qua non_, since without it the society would be liable to\nthe precariousness of all secular enterprises; and since, also,\nwithout this vow the society would not have the mark, the trait,\nthe essential quality that distinguishes disinterested reductionism\nfrom riches-and-comfort-seeking socialism. The vow of obedience to\na superior authority, such as a clerical director or a bishop, is\nalso indispensable. Those who have had opportunity of observing the\ninterior operation of a socialist or Protestant association must\nbe fully sensible of the importance of this condition. They are\ndistracted by divided counsels, inconsistencies of purpose, obstinacy\nand pride of opinions, rival ambitions, and the like. The end is\ngenerally ruin. They only succeed in proportion to such _modicum_\nof humility and obedience as they have contrived to incorporate in\ntheir rules and intention. Sometimes it is only the acknowledged\nsuperiority and energy of character of a founder or leader that\npreserves the organization. As soon as this personage dies, his\ncreature goes also into dissolution. Hence, we say the vital\nconditions of a \"reduction\" are, (1) Christian fervor; (2) Christian\nhumility; (3) Christian marriage; (4) Christian poverty, and (5)\nCatholic obedience.\n\n3. We have before us an account of the Paraguay missions, from which\nwe copy the following passage, (p. 52),\n\n     \"It sometimes happened that the number thus collected was far too\n     great to admit of their being received as permanent dwellers in\n     the 'reduction;' and in this case their instructors would furnish\n     all that was needed for _the founding of a new one_, not only\n     supplying corn, cattle, and clothing from their own stores, but\n     giving what, to an Indian, was most difficult to bestow, their\n     active and personal co\u00f6peration in _building a new 'reduction.'_\"\n\nThis extract answers the question whether such a company would tend\nto disseminate the faith and strengthen the church. The process\nof increase would be in geometrical proportion. Each reduction\nwould have several offspring, and these, in turn, would also each\nevolve several others. This was the case in Paraguay. There, in a\nfew years, the reductions became so numerous that they lined the\nbanks of the Parana and Uruguay, extended far into the interior,\nand, in the words of an historian, formed \"a Christian republic,\nwhere, far from the dwellings and evil designs of the colonists,\nthe spirit of the primitive church revived.\" Alas! that this caused\nthe envy and jealousy of the world of avarice and ambition. In one\nmore generation, if the Jesuit fathers had not been banished, the\nChristian republic would have been permanently established. The\nglorious example they set should not remain fruitless. There is a\npossibility of similar work and similar results in the midst of the\nmoral desert of civilization. It is time that the shepherds should\ngather their lambs into visible and safer folds. The lambs should\nnot be left to straggle among the wolves of this moral wilderness.\nSurely the fact of these straggling members of the flock being\nmarried should be no objection to their being provided with a refuge\nwhen the couple seek it with unity of will, and would fain find in it\nthe opportunity of serving God. Surely, the fructification of such\na work would be wonderful; for its beneficence and Christian spirit\nwould be so apparent that thousands of poor Catholics would eagerly\njoin it, and tens of thousands of lost sheep would be reconverted so\nas to follow the religious and beautiful life thus made practically\npossible. This power of multiplying themselves, this productiveness\nby thirty, seventy, and a hundred fold, is a peculiarity of this kind\nof association; for, while socialistic and co\u00f6perative societies\nare concentric, a Christian association or reduction, by virtue of\nits voluntary self-privation and consequent making of a disposable\nsurplus, and by virtue of its desire to bestow in charity this\nsurplus, is evolutive and prolific.\n\n4. Surrounding circumstances in these times not only demand the\nattention of the church to the subject of association, but the\nworld now offers facilities which, though very different from those\nthat existed in Paraguay, are far more favorable and congenial. In\nParaguay, the reverend fathers found people capable of discipline,\nbut barbarous, ignorant, and suspicious. In civilization to-day,\ninstead of savage ignorance, we see foolish infidelity and moral\ncorruption; but, at the same time, a belief in the benefits of\nassociation is spreading itself continually. This belief evinces\nitself in every direction. It resolves and attempts a great many\nforms of combination. The conviction that good will flow from the\nindustrial association of those who labor is becoming more and more\nintense. Several secular efforts, based on mere worldly advantage or\nmutuality, have proved seriously successful. The tendency of work and\nbusiness is toward the organization of corporations. The capitalists\nhave set the example by their monster companies and monopolies.\nThe plain deduction is, that this tendency affords a favorable\nopportunity for forming reductions. To neglect it would be to neglect\nmaking all things work together unto good to such as, according to\nGod's purpose, are called to be saints. (Rom. viii. 28.)\n\n5. To say that there is no place for communities of families in the\neconomy of the church, would be to deny her beautiful adaptability to\nall grades and varieties of virtue and good works. That she should\nreject and oppose socialism, with its _cort\u00e9ge_ of free love, heresy,\nblasphemy, covetousness, naturalism, and woman's dispersion, let us\nloudly declare; but to say that there should be in the system of the\nchurch a place only for such apostolic communities as are composed\nof celibates, would be to condemn her history, which tells us of\nthe community at Jerusalem, and of the reductions of Paraguay. We\ncannot suppose there is a grade or kind of real perfection that the\nchurch would reject, if, indeed, that grade or kind be in conformity\nwith evangelical counsel. It is said that keeping the vow of poverty\nwould be too hard for married people, who are naturally impelled to\nseek riches for the sake of their children. It is said that parental\nbias, solicitude, and duty would create great obstacles, hard to be\novercome. Supposing this, still we say, all things are possible _with\nGod_. The merit of those who, with God, could conciliate these two\nobligations, and accomplish both, would only be greater in the eyes\nof the church. Certainly, no Catholic will say that the counsels\nin regard to voluntary poverty are meant only for celibates, and\nthat only celibates are entitled to gain the consequent blessings.\n\"Blessed are the\" willingly \"poor, for theirs is the kingdom of\nheaven.\" Certainly, a man and wife are entitled to earn the benefits\nof this willing poverty as well as any monk or nun. The married\npoor are entitled to make the same sacrifice and take part in the\nsame work to enhance the glory of the church, and to merit the same\nreward. Association makes the sacrifice and the work possible to the\ncelibate. It creates a similar possibility for married people. The\nwondrous powers of combined labor and economy are well known. The\nfields in that direction are wide and free, and ready for _good_\nseed. Instead of thinking that associations of married people are\nin any wise incompatible with Catholic doctrine and discipline, a\nlittle reflection will convince us that it is, on the contrary, the\nlong-neglected link that completes the circle of good works. Infidels\nwould fain seize the position, and try to adapt it to naturalism and\ncupidity; but their attempts have been simply ridiculous. The reason\nis obvious: the vow of poverty and all its consequences is possible\nonly in and through the motives inspired by the Christian religion.\nThey cannot exist and cannot be imitated outside. True association,\nthat which is productive of moral good and social happiness, that\nwhich springs from charity, _belongs_ to Christianity, and it is\nimpossible to separate it from her. It was practised by the primitive\ndisciples, it was praised and taught by the fathers of the church, it\nwas and still is fulfilled by the celibates in the monasteries, it\nwas successfully applied in the reductions to a whole people; and we\nconclude that the place once occupied by saintly tribes and families\nunder the wing of the church is still vacant and open to their return\nand re\u00ebstablishment.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[185] We make the word from the name the Jesuit fathers gave to their\nestablishments in Paraguay. They called them _Reductions_.\n\n\n\n\nTHE PRESENT CONDITION OF POLAND.\n\n\nAmerica owes a debt of gratitude to the Polish nation. In the darkest\ndays of our struggle for independence many brave Poles came to our\nassistance. The name of Pulaski stands among the most honored names\nof the Revolution. To-day we are on a most friendly footing and\npossess much influence with Russia. She is crushing Poland to the\nearth in a manner which is a disgrace to the nineteenth century.\nShall we be silent when our voice might bring aid to a noble but\nunfortunate people, who generously assisted us in the hour of need?\nJustice and gratitude both forbid.\n\nThe unprecedented and truly pitiful condition to which the former\nPolish provinces have been reduced by Muscovite tyranny makes it\na duty, which we owe likewise to our common humanity, to direct\nattention to that ill-used country, and to illustrate somewhat in\ndetail the intolerable religious, political, and social chaos into\nwhich it has been precipitated. The idea of restoring the ancient\nSarmatian monarchy to its territorial integrity might justly be\ndeemed Utopian; but we have still the right to insist, in the name\nof every recognized principle of moral and public law, that the\ninconsequence and barbarity with which Russian Poland, and especially\nCongress Poland, is now being treated, should cease. No one capable\nof appreciating the extent of the evil can fail to perceive that\nsuch an anomalous state of things as there obtains is absolutely\ninsufferable, and that even Muscovite brutality cannot much longer\nexpect to avert another revolution. The eventualities of the Polish\nquestion demand, therefore, for this reason alone, the serious and\nearly interference of the great powers.\n\nTo enable the reader to arrive at a thorough understanding of the\nquestion, it is necessary that we should commence by casting a brief\nglance at the present religious condition of the country. It is well\nknown that the Roman Catholic Church, which is professed by six\nsevenths of the Christian and five sevenths of the total population\nof the kingdom--the church which has the deepest and strongest hold\nupon the social and historical life, the customs and character of\nthe nation--has, during the last six years, been systematically\ndegraded, both _de facto_ and officially, to the rank of a mere\nschism. The Archbishop of Poland, expressly selected for the primacy\nby the Emperor Alexander on account of his probity and virtues, was\ndeposed after a twelve months' incumbency without charges, trial,\nor sentence. The sole excuse for this harsh treatment was that he\npresumed to remonstrate against the extreme severity with which the\nmost trivial political offences of his countrymen were punished. The\nvenerable prelate is now a close prisoner of state in the interior\nof Russia. His place in the archiepiscopal palace is filled by\na Russian, Tschinownik, of the Greek orthodox stamp, who wields\nabsolute sway over the \"sectarian\" churches--as the Roman Catholic\nand the evangelic are called--and entertains a select circle of\nfriends with Russo-French amateur theatricals in the apartments in\nwhich Tijalewski and Felinski once meditated and prayed.\n\nThe treatment meted out to the other patriotic bishops has been\nmarked by a similarly brutal and vindictive spirit. Some of them are\nprisoners in Siberia; some, like Bishop Lubinski, have died on the\nway out; some languish in foreign exile. Their dioceses have been\nconferred on ecclesiastics who are in the interest of Russia, and\ntherefore execrated and despised as traitors by their own countrymen.\nAll intercourse and dealings between the Catholic hierarchy in\nPoland and the see of Rome have been interdicted and rendered almost\nimpossible. With a view of preserving appearances, a Catholic synod\nhas, by force and threats, been convened under the auspices of the\nimperial government at St. Petersburg. The members of this body\nhave been clothed with jurisdiction in all ecclesiastical affairs.\nThe lower clergy, stripped of their revenues and endowments, have\nbeen made dependent on a state subsidy, which may be withdrawn at\ndiscretion by the temporal authorities. Laymen, without properly\ndefined duties and powers, completely ignorant of the wants and aims\nof the church, preside over the priesthood and prescribe the ritual\nand the ecclesiastical discipline. The majority of the convents and\nreligious houses, as well as the schools connected with them, have\nbeen closed, and the superintendence which the religious formerly\nexercised over the education and training of youth has been entirely\ntaken away. A number of the finest Roman Catholic church edifices has\nbeen appropriated for the use of the Greek Orthodox Church, which has\nin addition been endowed out of the property and funds of the former.\nThe concordat with Rome has been abrogated, and though the St.\nPetersburg cabinet denies that M. de Meyendorff, its ambassador to\nthe holy see, told the supreme pontiff to his face that \"Catholicism\nis synonymous with revolution,\" yet the treatment of the Catholic\nChurch of Poland has been exactly in accordance with such a theory.\nThe United Greek Church, previously on the most cordial terms with\nher Roman relative and the Polish nationality, has been entirely\nestranged from Rome, and placed under the influence of anti-Polish,\nRusso-maniac Ruthenians, expressly imported with this view from\nGalizia. With such spiritual guides to direct them, it was expected\nthat many would be gradually brought over to the Greek Church, as\nhad indeed been attempted once before, but with rather indifferent\nsuccess, in Lithuania, during the reign of the Emperor Nicholas. But\nwe need not enlarge on this theme. Whole volumes might be filled\nwith accounts of the persecutions to which the national church and\nher servants have been subjected by the Russian government. Who does\nnot still remember the heart-rending scenes enacted at Warsaw during\nthe revolutionary years, when the Cossacks forced their way into the\nsanctuaries and dragged thousands of worshippers from the steps of\nthe altar to the dungeons of the citadel, or the still more recent\nattempt to compel the Catholic clergy to perform divine service in\nthe Russian language? These specimens of Muscovite tyranny in times\nof peace have sent a thrill of horror and loathing throughout the\nentire Christian world, and are still too fresh in the memory of the\nliving to be forgotten.\n\nPassing from the spiritual administration of the kingdom to the\ntemporal, we find it intrusted to a class of men who are as hostile\nand foreign to the nation as to every established theory of good\ngovernment. This is especially the case in the provinces, where\nall the authority rests in the hands of Stock-Russians, natives of\na country whose political and economical systems, whose physical\nand historical life, whose character, customs, laws, views,\nideas, etc., are in every respect the very opposite to those of\nPoland. Selected almost exclusively from among the subalterns of\nthe army, their profession has taught them to laugh at civil and\nconstitutional guarantees, to disregard the delicately adjusted and\ncarefully balanced interests of the community, and it is therefore\nnot surprising that their misgovernment should exceed all belief.\nOf the wisdom, moderation, and forbearance which the peculiar state\nof affairs in Poland demands, there is no trace. It matters very\nlittle that Field-Marshal Count Berg, the viceroy of the kingdom,\nand some of the generals who preside over certain branches of\nthe administration, should personally be honest, conscientious,\nwell-meaning, and just men. The training, antecedents, principles,\nand habits of their subordinates are such as unfit them for civil\npositions. Yet this deplorable want of all administrative talent\nand experience in the colonels, captains, and lieutenants who are\nappointed to govern the provinces, does not constitute the greatest\nand most serious objection to them. Besides the very small amount of\nintelligence possessed by the average Russian subaltern, he is noted\nfor some far more offensive traits. This class is proverbial for its\nrapacity, dishonesty, venality, intemperance, and immorality; and as\nevery Russian looks upon himself in the light of a conqueror among\na treacherous, rebellious people, he naturally regards all Poles,\nand especially the refined and educated among them, as his personal\nenemies, whom he only refrains from plundering and oppressing so long\nas he is bribed.\n\nBefore the insurrection of 1863, the administration of the kingdom\nwas in all essential features autonomic and distinct from that of\nthe Russian empire, a privilege which Finland still enjoys at this\nday. A minister for Polish affairs had a place in the St. Petersburg\ncabinet, and through his hands passed all the public business which\nthe conquered country transacted with the imperial government and the\nsovereign himself. At Warsaw sat an administrative council, a kind\nof Polish ministry, over whose deliberations the viceroy presided in\nperson. The members of the Warsaw administration were also the chiefs\nof the several public departments, such as that of the interior, of\njustice, of education, of religion, etc. Within the last four years\nthe management of these departments has, however, been transferred\nto St. Petersburg, while the viceroy, in spite of his title as the\nrepresentative of majesty, now only retains a mere nominal authority.\nInstead of the administrative council, an administrative and even\nlegislative inquisition, which interferes arbitrarily with the\ndifferent branches of the public service, and completely neutralizes\nthe viceregal influence, has been established. This overshadowing\npower, the so-called Committee of Organization--named thus because\nit was originally created to arrange the differences between the\nlandlords and serfs which arose out of the emancipation ukase of\n1864--has usurped supreme legislative, judicial, and executive\nfunctions, so that without its co\u00f6peration the viceroy is absolutely\npowerless. Under the unassuming title of a corresponding member of\nthe committee, the celebrated Panslavist, Solowjeff, is the real\nleader of the Russian government at Warsaw, while Count Berg, the\nviceroy, has become the bearer of an empty dignity, and is only saved\nfrom the unpleasant position of a puppet by his rank as a marshal\nof the empire, and commander-in-chief of the forces in the Warsaw\ndistrict.\n\nIt may well be doubted whether the civilized world has ever seen\nsuch military-bureaucratic anarchy as modern Poland now presents.\nThose who witness this state of things from a distance must find\nit impossible to form an adequate conception of the semi-barbaric,\nsemi-refined confusion which is its chief characteristic. And yet,\nall the wrong, all the injustice, all the inconsistency of this\nadministrative chaos, with its long train of social, political,\nand religious embarrassments and entanglements, is outdone by the\ninterference with a most holy and inalienable right of not only every\ncitizen, but of every human being. That right is the sacred right\nof education and instruction, with which the Russian government\nhas meddled in a most unwarranted and despotic manner. The moral\nviolence to which it has resorted in this matter outrages every\nthing that the human race considers peculiarly sacred and dear. All\nthe atrocities committed by heathen tyrants, which history records,\nappear insignificant by the side of the infamous system, deliberately\ndevised and enforced under a monarch who advocates progress at\nhome, while in the affairs of Poland he is ruled by a terroristic\nfaction that labors with fanatic zeal for the moral dismemberment,\nemasculation, and degradation of the rising generation of a vigorous,\nliving, Christian people, who have shared for more than ten centuries\nin the blessings of western culture.\n\nThis language may appear too strong, but it is more than justified\nby the provocation and offence. No other government but the Russian\nhas, within historical times, been known to prohibit, under severe\npenalties, private instruction in the elementary branches and\nreligion in the national tongue. There is no instance on record of\na civilized state whose rulers have devoted all their energies to\nthe suppression and reduction of the number of existing educational\nestablishments, or to the discouragement of attendance at school\nby raising the cost of tuition, the price of school-books, and by\ngenerally resorting to other equally disreputable expedients for\nthe purpose of rendering the means of education inaccessible to an\noppressed and impoverished population.[186] It is only in Poland that\nentire faculties--which contained many foreign professors invited\nto the country with assurances of permanent positions--have been\nsuddenly ordered to adopt a strange language insufficiently developed\nfor scientific purposes; and no government but the czar's would\nhave dared to make non-compliance with such a preposterous demand\na cause for summary dismissal without compensation. In no other\nland would the public schools have been placed under the control of\nindividuals notoriously incompetent in a scientific, educational,\nsocial, and moral point of view for this grave responsibility; men\nso little superior in intellect and manners to the semi-civilized,\nnon-commissioned officers under them, that they have frequently been\nknown to assail the professors in the presence of their scholars\nwith the foulest abuse, and even with blows. Where else, save in\nRussia, would public functionaries have overlooked gross breaches of\ndiscipline in the students, for the sake of tempting them to disgrace\nthemselves by demonstrations against the land of their birth? Where\nelse, save there, could have originated the monstrous idea of\nperverting the compositions of school children so that they appeared\nto reflect the darker sides of the national character; or where else\nwould these juvenile emanations have been published to the world as\nevidences of the degradation of a whole people? What other Christian\nand civilized government would have stooped to the incredible infamy\nof turning the seminaries for the education of the future wives\nand daughters of the land into schools for coquetry and places for\npromiscuous intercourse between the sexes, in the hope of thus\ndebauching and demoralizing both the present and the next generation?\n\nYet all this, and all that a fiendish ingenuity could possibly\ninvent or suggest in the same direction, has actually been done,\nopenly and in the broad light of day, by the Russian government in\nPoland, more especially since the middle of the present decade. To\nmake this tyranny still more oppressive and hideous, the Polish\nchild is not allowed to be educated in its native tongue, but in one\ninstinctively repulsive to it, difficult to acquire by reason of its\npeculiar characters, and far less adapted to intellectual uses than\nthe Polish. Not even religious consolation and instruction--though\nthey address themselves to the holiest feelings of our nature--are\npermitted to reach the oppressed people in any language but the\nabhorred Russian. A terrorism like this acts with the effects of\npoisonous dew upon excitable temperaments, and explains how the most\nexemplary piety and the fiercest thirst for vengeance may dwell side\nby side in the national heart. To crown, as it were, these wrongs and\ninsults, the Russian authorities have lately forbidden the pupils\nof the public schools to speak their own language even during the\nhours allotted for play. The design, of course, is to completely\nRussianize the young Polish generation. It is for the same reason\nthat the pupils of the public schools are compelled to wear a Russian\nuniform, and to salute, after the fashion of private soldiers, every\nmilitary officer whom they may happen to encounter in-doors or out.\nThat no Polish father or mother may easily evade the pernicious\neffects which such an education as the public schools afford must\nexert upon their offspring, the refined absolutism of Russia has\ntaken care to discourage by all means in its power the employment of\nprivate tutors and attendance at foreign institutions of learning.\nFirst, no government appointment, not even the most petty and least\nremunerative post, can be obtained unless the candidate understands\nRussian; and, as there is a great dearth of private tutors, who\nare either natives of Russia or who have mastered its language, a\nlarge majority of the Polish children are indirectly compelled to\ngo to the public schools, where the only branch of study thoroughly\ncultivated is the Russian literature and language. Then every\nconceivable obstacle has been placed in the way of the employment\nof private instructors, either natives or foreigners, even by those\nfamilies who could otherwise afford the expense. Under the reign of\nNicholas, foreign professors and teachers were almost banished from\nthe country, and those who had not the official influence necessary\nto evade the law, were obliged to bring them across the frontier\nin the disguise of servants after having bribed the police and the\ncustom-house officials. This rule has been made still more stringent\nof late. No private instructor is allowed to follow his calling until\nhe has first submitted to an examination in the Russian language--the\nsole test of proficiency and qualification--before a government\nboard expressly instituted for this purpose; and the result is,\nthat hundreds of foreigners have resigned their places and left the\ncountry. The surveillance of the police is carried to an extent which\ncan hardly be credited abroad, and their espionage makes any evasion\nof the interdict difficult, if not impossible. To keep the children\nof all save the wealthiest parents from being sent abroad for an\neducation, the price of passports has been raised to a figure which\nvirtually amounts to a total prohibition of foreign residence and\ntravel.\n\nThese few unvarnished facts may suffice to give the reader a faint\nconception of the present state of domestic and social life in\nPoland. The child, bred from infancy in accordance with certain\nspecific national customs and habits, in disposition, speech,\nthought, sentiment, and expression, moulded in a decidedly Polish,\nRoman Catholic, West-European form, is, upon its admission to\nschool, forced not merely to reject all it has imbibed with its\nmother's milk, but to accept the very opposite of what nature and\nduty have taught it to hold sacred at home. With the Russian school\nuniform--the badge of degradation and slavery--the Polish boy is\nexpected to put on a manner and speech hostile to his nationality and\nreligion; for upon his doing so depends both his own success in life\nand the safety of his parents. Must not all piety and loyalty, under\nsuch an accursed system, all manhood and morality, be destroyed, and\nthe character of the entire people deteriorate? After ten years or\nmore of this training and preparation, the boy becomes a man. Two\nroads through life now open before him: he either enters the service\nof the state, in which case he becomes so thoroughly Russianized that\nhe continues in all essential features to live up to the system\nof the school, and hardens gradually into a genuine Tschinownik;\nor he returns home to ripen into a conspirator and plotter. Is it\nthen surprising that such a course of education should have made the\nnumber of shipwrecked Catilinian existences so much larger in Poland\nthan in any other land? Is it strange that under such a government\nthe national prosperity, which might otherwise be susceptible of\ngreat development, should steadily decline, and be replaced by an\naugmenting wretchedness?\n\nDid we not know that at any time violent political catastrophes may\noccur and impart to the current of things a direction different\nto that which a majority of professional and non-professional\npoliticians anticipate, we might easily predict to what such a state\nof society must inevitably lead. But irrespective of the possibility,\neven the probability, of great political complications, which would\nprevent the co\u00f6peration of the three-partite powers hereafter, there\nlies, despite its weaknesses and faults, a vitality and capacity of\nresistance in the Polish nationality that spurns unconditionally\nthe supposition of such an extermination as the one attempted by\nRussia; and this it will be well to consider in every attempt for\nthe reconstruction of the country. When a nation is to disappear and\nbe absorbed by another, this task can only be accomplished when it\nis fused with a nation physically and mentally its superior. Such\nis, however, far from being the case in the present instance. The\nRussian nationality, as its colonization experiments in Lithuania\nhave sufficiently demonstrated, can send only smaller, never\nlarger masses into Poland, and the assimilative capacities of the\nPolish nationality are, in spite of its political subjection, so\npreponderating, by reason of a superior culture, that the Russians\nwill much sooner become Poles, than the Poles will become Russians.\nAll the ukases, all the religious and educational tyranny and\ninjustice, all the bayonet rule and oppression of the latter can\nnever bridge the gulf between the two peoples. The Russification of\nPoland is, and must always remain, a physical and moral impossibility\nwhich no Murawieffs, Katkoffs, or Solowieffs, can hope to bring\nabout. An imperfect, hastily-prepared insurrection, commanded by\ninexperienced leaders, nearly destitute of arms and resources, defied\nthe Russian colossus nearly a year and a half. And even for this\ntardy victory over a country of five millions of inhabitants, who\nhad been for more than a decade governed by martial law, Russia was\nchiefly indebted to the passive attitude of the neighboring states;\nfor, had either Austria or Prussia abandoned their neutrality, the\ninsurrection would yet be alive. The alleged right and mission of the\nczars to govern the Poles are actually and morally as unfounded as\nthey are politically and legally an insult to the age and to the law\nof civilized nations.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[186] This barbarous conduct of the Russian government has been once\nequalled and even surpassed. We allude to the laws by which England,\nafter she had been enlightened by the Reformation, prohibited all\neducation among the Irish people. We wish to call most particular\nattention to the fact that in both cases distinctively Catholic\nnations have struggled earnestly for the right of instruction which\nbitterly anti-Catholic ones have withheld. Yet we are daily told that\nCatholicity is the great foe, and anti-Catholicity the great fosterer\nof popular education!--ED. CATH. WORLD.\n\n\n\n\nFRIEDEMANN BACH.\n\nPART FIRST.\n\n\nOn New Year's eve of the year 1736, a brilliant company was\nassembled in the _salons_ of the Count von Bruhl, lord premier to\nthe Elector of Saxony. The mansion, opposite the castle in Dresden,\nwas illuminated so brightly that the whole street in front was light\nas day. In a shadow of the castle wall stood a man wrapped in a\ncloak, gazing up at the windows, behind which could be seen the gay\nconfusion of guests. Presently one--a lady splendidly dressed--came\nclose to one of the windows, opened it, and stepped out upon the\nbalcony. The light gleamed on the jewels in her coronet. She stood\nbut an instant in the air, being called back; the window was closed,\nand she was lost in the throng.\n\nThe solitary watcher outside, with a deeply-drawn sigh, turned to\ndepart. His hand was seized as he did so by a passer-by--a man in the\ndress of the court pages.\n\n\"Good evening!\" cried a cheery voice. \"How glad I am to find you at\nlast! What were you doing here?\"\n\nThe other laughed, evading an answer, and, drawing his cloak about\nhim, complained of the cold.\n\n\"Come to Seconda's!\" cried the page. \"You will find plenty of hot\npunch there.\"\n\nThe two walked on to the celebrated Italian restaurant near the old\nmarket. The scene there was as brilliant as at the premier's. A gay\ncompany was assembled in the largest room, where the new-comers took\nseats at the table. As they threw off their hats and cloaks, the page\nwas seen to be a man of about forty years of age, with a face deeply\nlined with the marks of free living. His eyes were bright and merry,\nand his mouth was liberal in smiles. His companion was a strikingly\nhandsome man of twenty-five, with a pale and haughty countenance, and\na form well proportioned and majestic. His expression was grave, and\na satirical curl was in his lip when he spoke; his large, dark eyes\nwere now fiercely flashing, now dreamy and melancholy, and they were\noften downcast and shaded by long, heavy lashes.\n\n\"You are dull to-night, _mon ami_!\" cried the jovial page, whose name\nwas Von Scherbitz. \"Banish your gloom; it is no time for it.\"\n\n\"Have patience with me,\" said the young man in a low tone, and with\nan attempt at a laugh. \"I cannot always keep even with you. I have\nserved but a two years' brotherhood, you know.\"\n\n\"In our club, yes; yet _one_ year has spread your fame in music\nover all Europe! Friedemann Bach has but one rival in renown--the\nadmirable Sebastian!\"\n\nA flush mounted to the young man's brow.\n\n\"Call him not a rival!\" he exclaimed. \"I have to thank my father for\nall I have ever done; and I feel my own insignificance beside his\ngreatness. I feel, too, how unworthy I am of his love.\"\n\n\"Nonsense!\" cried Scherbitz. \"Your good father is strict, perhaps;\n_pourquoi_? he is old; you are young and impetuous; you have your\nliberal ideas and your adventures, and keep them from his knowledge,\nto spare him chagrin. Where is the harm in this?\"\n\nFriedemann was leaning his head on his hand, which he passed slowly\nacross his forehead, as if waving away the trouble of discussing\nthe point. The punch was placed before them, and the tankards were\nfilled. The guests at the round table drank, as they did; and others\ncame in; among them military officers, painters, and musicians. As\na party of distinguished-looking persons entered, the page rose to\ngreet one of them, calling him \"Signor Hasse.\" The gentleman glanced\naround the company, but declined a seat at the table, retreating to a\ndistant corner. Here he bade the waiter remove the light from a small\ntable in front of him, and bring him supper by himself.\n\nThe page called Friedemann's attention to the solitude and gloom\nchosen by the famous musician. Yet he was well known to be fond of\ngood company, and was universally respected.\n\n\"Is it on account of his wife?\" asked young Bach.\n\n\"Exactly; the brilliant Faustina Hasse, the admired singer, the\nidolized of all Dresden. They do not live happily.\"\n\n\"You cannot help seeing,\" observed Friedemann, \"that strength is\nwanting in his character--it is wanting in his compositions. They\nhave softness and melody; but how little of manly power!\"\n\n\"Yet he is the favorite composer in the world of fashion.\"\n\nMore guests came in, and the general merriment waxed loud. The\nglasses were rapidly filled and emptied. The conversation among the\nyounger part of the company was that of jovial revellers, intent on\nas much amusement as they could obtain out of a gayly-dressed officer\nof the elector's guard, and a chamberlain he had brought in to serve\nas a butt for their jokes. Friedemann observed them with haughty\ngravity, stealing a glance now and then at Signor Hasse in his corner.\n\nThe chamberlain was flippant with tales of court scandal, at which\nthere were uproarious bursts of laughter. Presently, half-drunk, he\nwas reciting some verses; and at the close he filled his glass and\ntoasted Signora Hasse.\n\nAll were silent as Hasse rose and approached the table.\n\n\"Gentlemen,\" he said with dignity, \"I have the honor to wish you all\na good evening, and farewell. To-morrow morning I leave Dresden.\"\n\n\"To go whither?\" asked Scherbitz.\n\n\"To Italy.\"\n\nThe company knew by his tone that he meant not to return. There was a\nmoment's deep silence, and then an officer asked:\n\n\"Does the signora go with you?\"\n\n\"No; she remains in Dresden,\" replied the composer.\n\nHasse then turned to Friedemann, and grasped his hand.\n\n\"Commend me to your father, Monsieur Bach,\" he said warmly. \"Tell him\nhe shall yet hear something good of Scarlatti's disciple.\"\n\nThere was a faltering in his tone as he spoke these last words, and\nturning away, he left the room. Friedemann sighed deeply as he looked\nafter him, and pushed away his glass, which Scherbitz had just filled.\n\nThe merry company was again convulsed with the sallies of the\nintoxicated chamberlain; and loud applause, cries of \"bravo!\" and\ntoast after toast urged him on. When he fell back, helplessly drunk,\nthe young men pulled off his court dress, put on a dark one, carried\nhim out, and gave him to the watch as a drunken vagabond to be taken\nto the guard-house. Then they laughed to think of his consternation\nat finding himself in the cold cell, on New Year's morning.\n\nMidnight struck in the midst of this boisterous revelry; the last\nhour of the dying year. There was a wild storm without, and clamorous\nshouting and singing within. The revellers reeled homeward; young\nBach, the only one whose gait was steady, though he had drunk as\ndeeply and as madly as the rest.\n\nWhen he rose on the following morning, he saw a letter on his\ntable, in a well-known hand, which he quietly opened and read with\ndeep emotion. Then he began to pace up and down the room, till the\ndoor was abruptly opened and Scherbitz came in, wishing him the\ncompliments of the season. He read the letter Friedemann handed him\nin silence.\n\n\"A charming old gentleman is that good papa of yours,\" he said as he\ngave it back. \"His heart is full of kindness. May his life be long\nand happy! But look not so woe-begone, _mon ami_! How is it possible\nfor you to satisfy the claims of such exalted, old-fashioned virtue?\nThe time will come when we, madcaps as we are, shall be pointed out\nas models of propriety for our juniors. Let the wheel of time roll\non.\"\n\n\"To crush us in the dust!\" moaned Friedemann.\n\n\"Look at me--a page forty years old! I have no fear of reverse as\nlong as I serve my lord faithfully. I might have stood up heroically\nagainst the all-powerful minister, and I should have been hailed as\none of her deliverers by my country; but I kept my place and pension,\nand remain a page in comfortable quarters.\"\n\n\"You are not the first whose life is a failure.\"\n\n\"Nor shall I be the last. Why should I despair? Come, be reasonable,\n_mon ami_! you are too self-condemnatory. Have you forgotten Handel,\nwhom you welcomed here three years since?\"\n\n\"How could I forget him?\"\n\n\"Yet Handel is unlike your father. His fantasy is more powerful, his\nforce more developed; he soars like an eagle, while Sebastian Bach\nsails over the calm waters like a majestic swan. Bach's activity is\ncalm, silent--the offspring of concentrated thought. Handel reaches\nhis aim amid storm and tumult--through strife to victory. Can you\nblame him for the difference? His path is your own. _En avant, mon\nami!_\"\n\n\"Handel has had, indeed, a restless and stormy life,\" replied\nFriedemann; \"but he has never lost himself.\"\n\n\"Had he been born in the present century, instead of the last, his\nviews might have been more liberal. Before he was of your age, he did\nas others do. Faustina Hasse could tell you some wild tales--\"\n\n\"He never played the hypocrite to his father!\" said Friedemann\nbitterly.\n\n\"It was not worth while. Now, my good fellow, do not flatter yourself\nyou can deceive a page forty years old. Your so-called profligacy and\nkeen self-reproach have another cause than that you choose to assign.\nYou dread the unmasking of what you term your hypocrisy less than the\ndiscovery of another secret!\"\n\nFriedemann started to his feet, and his face glowed like fire. The\npage laughed.\n\n\"You must govern your eyes better, _mon ami_, if you want to keep\nyour secret when you hear the name of 'Natalie.' I did not need to\nwitness your behavior last night opposite the minister's palace, to\nshow me the truth!\"\n\nFriedemann was now pale as death. With a violent effort he mastered\nhis feelings, and said,\n\n\"You will be silent, will you not?\"\n\n\"As the grave--assuredly! Only be cautious before others. No more!\nI am going to the guard-house to release the victim chamberlain.\nNow go to church, and afterward come to Seconda's to breakfast. _Au\nrevoir!_\" And Scherbitz went out.\n\nFriedemann Bach had been organist of the church of St. Sophia since\nthe elector, at the solicitation of his father that he would befriend\nhis boy, had given him the appointment. He hurried to his post,\nand splendidly performed his part in the imposing service. As the\nlast tones of the organ died along the vast arches, he arose, closed\nthe instrument, and descended from the choir. At the door a pair\nof vigorous arms were flung around him, and, with a joyful cry, he\nembraced his father.\n\nThe old man pronounced a solemn blessing as he pressed his son to\nhis heart, and warmly praised his morning's work. He had entered the\nchurch alone, to enjoy the music of his dearest pupil, whom he now\ndeclared his best.\n\n\"To your lodgings now, Master Court-organist!\" he cried. \"Philip is\nthere, and unpacking. We shall stay a week with you.\" He took his\nson's arm, and walked on, talking pleasantly all the time.\n\nPhilip Emmanuel Bach had grown a stately youth and a ripe scholar in\nhis art since Friedemann had left the paternal home at Leipzig, three\nyears before. They chatted of the old times, when their mother in her\nsnowy cap and apron smiled on their boyish sport; when they roasted\napples on the stove of Dutch tiles, and their young sisters chid\nthem, and the little Christopher laughed at them from his mother's\nlap. Philip had been lonely at school, and was delighted at these\nreminiscences. The two sons sympathized with the triumph of the good\nSebastian when he told them again of his first summons to Dresden,\nof the note that had come to him from the Minister von Bruhl, on the\npart of the Elector Augustus of Saxony and Poland: an invitation to\nplay at the church in Dresden. The rector in Leipzig had opposed the\ndeparture of the organist of St. Thomas's school; but the elector's\nown carriage stood at Bach's door to fetch him, and he saw future\ngood for both his sons. He felt that through them the lovers of\nHasse should hear music more sublime than the voluptuous melodies of\nItaly. Then the reception at Dresden; the entrance of the elector\ninto the choir to greet Bach; his words, \"O master! if I might hear\nyou play thus at the hour of my death\"--all the scene was lived over\nby the grateful old man. Philip, then a stripling, remembered how\na beautiful lady--the famous Faustina Hasse--had rushed in, and,\nweeping, had kissed his father's hand; Hasse's greeting too, he\nremembered; and the elector's bidding to ask any favor at his hands.\n\nThese recollections and the conversation were interrupted by the\nentrance of a servant in a rich livery, who presented a note to\nFriedemann. The young man blushed as he took the note, which he\nopened and read hastily.\n\n\"I will come,\" he said to the servant, \"at the hour named.\"\n\nThe man withdrew.\n\nSebastian smiled.\n\n\"Our court-organist,\" he said, \"appears to have distinguished\nacquaintances.\"\n\n\"The livery was the lord premier's,\" remarked Philip.\n\n\"Indeed!\" asked Sebastian. \"You know his excellency, my son?\"\n\n\"The note came from his niece, the Countess Natalie,\" answered\nFriedemann, in a confusion which he could not conceal.\n\n\"And you visit the young countess?\"\n\n\"She is my pupil in music. She has sent for me to arrange a concert,\nwhich she is to give on her aunt's birthday.\"\n\n\"I thought M. Hasse managed all those matters.\"\n\n\"I can't well avoid the commission; and such things help one's\nreputation,\" faltered the young man. \"As to M. Hasse, he has left\nDresden.\"\n\n\"Hasse gone--the excellent Hasse!\" exclaimed Sebastian.\n\nThe good, pious composer was grieved to hear of his unhappiness.\nThen, changing the subject, he began innocently to advise his son\nas to the polished manners necessary in the house of the premier.\nFriedemann pressed his hand and thanked his unsuspecting monitor.\n\nWhen the elder Bach asked what he had done lately in music,\nFriedemann replied that what he had done did not satisfy him. His\nfather put aside his plea that the highest and best could alone avail\nin art.\n\n\"We have not reached that,\" he said; \"yet we can rejoice in the\nsuccess granted us. There is much that I like in your _Fughetten_.\"\n\nFrom music he passed to other questions; and asked, smiling, how long\nthe court-organist meant to remain unmarried.\n\n\"Dear father, I need not be in haste.\"\n\n\"'Early wooed has naught rued.'\"\n\n\"It is a serious step, father.\"\n\n\"Surely, and not to be taken precipitately; but, dear son, let it not\nbe long. If my first grandchild is a boy, I will teach him music. Ay,\nmarriage is a serious matter! I have toiled hard to give bread to my\nboys and girls, and brought you all up--have I not?--to be good men\nand skilful artists. From my great-grandfather, all the Bachs have\nhad musical talent. I was once ambitious, my boy, to write something\nthat might win enduring fame. Now, I have but one wish. It is--that\nall the Bachs may meet in the kingdom of heaven, and join in singing\nto the glory of God, among the hallelujahs of the angels! Friedemann,\nchild of my heart, let me not miss you there!\"\n\nWith a sob of anguish, Friedemann sank at his father's feet.\nSebastian laid both hands on his head, saying devoutly,\n\n\"God's peace be with you, my son, now and for ever!\"\n\nUnable to control his agitation--which his pious father thought a\nburst of filial emotion--Friedemann left the room. Closing the door\nsoftly, he rushed through the hall, out of the house, and through the\nstreets to the open country, where he flung himself on the frozen\nearth and wept aloud.\n\nAt dinner the father conversed with his two sons, and much was said\nof the splendors of the Polish-Saxon court under the administration\nof the luxurious and prodigal Count von Bruhl. It was then time for\nFriedemann to go to the minister's palace. He changed his dress and\nhastened there.\n\nAs he passed into the hall, the door of one of the side-rooms opened,\nand the premier came out. He was a small man, with marked and\nexpressive features, and keen, clear blue eyes. He was sumptuously\ndressed, and wore a star on his breast. Friedemann stopped and bowed\nto him.\n\n\"Good day, M. Bach, and a happy new year!\" said the minister in\nbland, soft tones. \"My niece has sent for you. I am pleased with your\npromptness. I am grateful for your readiness to meet our wishes at\nall times, and shall remember it. The countess expects you!\"\n\nHe nodded, smiled graciously, and walked lightly out of the front\ndoor, entering his carriage, which presently drove away.\n\nFriedemann looked after him apprehensively.\n\n\"What does this mean?\" he murmured. \"The smile of that man ever bodes\ndisaster. Let it be so! What can make me more miserable than I am?\"\n\nCrossing the hall, he passed on through one of the galleries.\n\nA female servant stood at the door of the ante-room of the countess's\ncabinet. She opened the door of the inner room, and Bach entered.\n\nA young girl of about twenty, in a costume coquettishly pretty,\nreclined on a sofa. Her form and her face were both beautiful; a nose\nslightly aquiline, and well-defined eye-brows, gave her features a\ncharacter of pride and decision, contradicted by the soft tenderness\nof the full, rosy lips, and the languishing, violet eyes, shaded by\ntheir long lashes. Her hair floated in golden curls over her neck.\nA faint rose-tint came to her pale cheeks as she rose to receive\nFriedemann.\n\nThe young man stood still, and did not raise his eyes. The countess\ncame nearer, laid her little white hand on his shoulder, and said,\nalmost tenderly,\n\n\"What were you doing, Bach, opposite our house last night?\"\n\nOne glance Friedemann darted from his flashing eyes into her own, but\nmade no other answer.\n\n\"I saw you plainly,\" said Natalie, \"as I stepped out on the balcony.\nYou were leaning against the castle wall. Were you waiting for any\none? Tell me.\"\n\nThe young man shivered with the violent emotion that shook his whole\nframe. After a pause, he said with forced calmness,\n\n\"You sent for me, most gracious countess, to honor me with your\ncommands respecting the arrangement of a concert.\"\n\nThe countess turned angrily away.\n\n\"These are my thanks, proud man, for my trust, for my love. Out upon\ningratitude!\" she cried.\n\nThe young man flushed crimson at these reproachful words.\n\n\"What can I say?\" he answered in a deep, hoarse voice, full of the\nwild agony he was vainly striving to repress. \"Look at me, and\nenjoy your triumph! You have made me wretched. Leave me the only\nconsolation that remains--the conviction that I suffer alone!\"\n\n\"Friedemann,\" said the countess, shocked to see him thus, \"compose\nyourself, I entreat you! Spare me!\"\n\n\"I will _not_ spare you!\" burst forth Friedemann, unable longer to\nmaster his agitation. \"You have torn open my bleeding heart-wounds in\ncruel sport! I will not spare you! I have bought the right to speak\nwith my happiness here and hereafter. I gave you all, Natalie--truth\nfor falsehood, pure, faithful love for frivolous, heartless mockery!\"\n\n\"I did not mock you!\" cried Natalie.\n\n\"Did you love me, then?\"\n\n\"I can not answer that.\"\n\n\"Tell me, Natalie--did you love me?\"\n\n\"What good can it do? Are we not parted for ever?\"\n\n\"No; by my soul, _no_! Nothing shall part us if you love me! But, I\nmust be convinced of that. If you have not--if you do not--I ask you,\nwhy did you tempt the free-hearted youth, who lived but for his art,\nwith encouraging looks and flattering words?\"\n\n\"Be silent!\" cried the girl.\n\nFriedemann's burst of grief was convulsive, and he covered his face\nwith his hands.\n\nAt length Natalie said,\n\n\"I honored your genius--your heart--\"\n\n\"You loved me not then, and you do not love me now. If you love me,\nhow can you bear to think of becoming the wife of another?\"\n\n\"Alas! you know; my station, the will of my uncle--\"\n\n\"_My_ happiness, _my_ peace is nothing to you?\"\n\n\"My affection is still yours. I shall never love another. Will not\nthat content you?\"\n\nFriedemann's pale face crimsoned; he stamped his foot fiercely.\n\n\"Hypocrite! liar! coward that I am,\" he cried; \"and all for a\ncoquette!\"\n\nNatalie protested against his injustice. She reminded him of her\nhistory: her noble birth and orphaned condition; the state and\nsplendor with which her uncle had surrounded her; her scorn of mere\npomp and luxury; her isolation in the midst of flatterers and smiling\nfools; her discernment of the manhood in him--her lover.\n\n\"Then be my wife, Natalie!\"\n\nShe shook her head.\n\n\"You will not? You will marry the creature of your uncle, whom you\nregard with aversion?\"\n\n\"You know, Friedemann, I do not take this step from interest, but a\nsense of duty.\"\n\n\"Duty! Toward whom?\"\n\n\"Yourself! I could never be happy, nor make you happy, as your wife.\nYou are a great artist; but you can never rise to my sphere. And\nshould I sacrifice all for you, would not my incensed uncle pursue us\nwith his vengeance? If we found shelter in solitude, how long would\nyou or I bear this concealment?\"\n\nFriedemann grew pale, and looked down.\n\n\"We could not be happy,\" resumed the countess. \"All I can do is to\nkeep my heart for you. You can live for your art and me.\"\n\n\"And love you in secret?\" asked the young man bitterly.\n\n\"I would bear condemnation for your sake.\"\n\n\"You shall _not_! The woman for whose sake I am miserable, for whom I\nhave deceived father, brother, friends, shall never know the world's\nscorn. Farewell, Natalie! We never meet again. Be unlike your future\nhusband--be noble and true. Crushed as I am, you shall yet esteem\nme, knowing that all virtuous resolution has not left my heart!\"\n\n\"O Friedemann! how I honor and admire you,\" exclaimed the weeping\ngirl, as she flung her arms around his neck.\n\nThe maid entered quickly, announcing the minister.\n\nNatalie retreated to the sofa.\n\n\"Ha! M. Bach,\" said the count, as he came in. \"I am delighted to see\nyou again.\"\n\n\"Is it all arranged about the concert, my dear niece?\"\n\n\"I hope so, uncle,\" answered Natalie.\n\n\"Charming, charming! Madame von Bruhl will be enchanted, M. Bach. You\nwill certainly arrange all for the best. Come very often to visit us;\nvery often. I assure you, my highest esteem is yours.\"\n\nFriedemann, somewhat bewildered, bowed his thanks, and took leave.\nThe minister looked after him, while he took a pinch from his\njewelled snuff-box.\n\n\"He has great, very great talent,\" he said musingly; and added other\npraises. Then he chatted a little on other subjects, and, looking at\nhis watch, touched the white forehead of his niece with his lips,\nsuffered her to kiss his hand, and retired from the room.\n\nFriedemann left the house with confused thoughts. Suddenly M.\nScherbitz ran round the corner, and seized his hand.\n\n\"I am going home,\" said young Bach.\n\n\"You are not! Come instantly with me to Faustina Hasse's.\"\n\n\"Are you mad?\"\n\n\"Not so near it as yourself, _mon ami_! The blind bird will not see\nthe trap.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"_Sacr\u00e9 bleu!_ Come to Faustina's with me, or you are to-night on\nthe road to K\u00f6nigstein. The lord minister knows all!\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAll that afternoon Sebastian had spent in reading the latest\nexercises and compositions of his son Friedemann, handing sheet after\nsheet, when he had read it, to Philip. They called for lights as dusk\ncame on. At length Sebastian asked his younger son what he thought of\nhis brother.\n\nPhilip knew not what to answer.\n\n\"I admire Friedemann,\" he said. \"His works move me. I seem at times\nto be reading your music, father; then comes something strange\nand different. I feel disturbed--I can not tell why. I like these\ncompositions; but they give me not untroubled pleasure.\"\n\n\"You are right, Philip,\" said Sebastian, with a grave and thoughtful\nsmile. \"His works have something in them strange and paradoxical. I\nfind this in his sketches more than in his elaborate compositions.\nBut I am not disturbed thereby: I rejoice.\"\n\nPhilip looked surprised.\n\n\"Your own light, glad spirit, Philip, accords not with the earnest,\noft gloomy character of Friedemann's works. He is not yet settled.\nThere is something great in him, hardly yet developed; the form of\nexpression is not defined. Friedemann seeks a new path to the goal.\nEvery strong spirit has done so. Art ever advances, and her temple is\nnot yet finished. The perfect dwells not on earth.\"\n\nPhilip suggested that his brother's imagination, supplying nobler\nimages than his industry had produced, still soared beyond the reach\nof practical achievement, and thus left him unsatisfied.\n\nThere was a loud knock at the door; two men entered, asked for the\ncourt-organist, and, hearing that he was expected every moment, sat\ndown to wait for him. Sebastian tried to enter into conversation\nwith them; but their gruff monosyllables repelled him, and an\nawkward silence ensued. In about fifteen minutes the door was opened\nunceremoniously, and M. von Scherbitz entered. He saluted the elder\nBach and looked keenly at the two strangers. He then announced his\nname to the astonished Sebastian, and said he was Friedemann's friend.\n\n\"He will soon return,\" said the father; \"these gentlemen, also his\nfriends, are waiting for him.\"\n\n\"Friends!\" echoed the page; and placing himself in front of the two\nmen, he gazed at them searchingly. After a while he said,\n\n\"Messieurs, his excellency has lost no time in sending you,\nI perceive; but you are too late. Give the lord minister the\ncompliments of the page, M. von Scherbitz, and tell him he will find\nthe court-organist, M. Bach, at the house of Signora Hasse. I have\njust had the honor of leaving him there. He will see the elector.\"\n\nThe two men started up without speaking, and hastily left the room.\nThe page threw himself into a chair and laughed long and loudly. The\nfather and son stood in blank surprise, not knowing what to make of\nthe scene.\n\nAt last Scherbitz recovered his composure. He addressed Sebastian,\nand said he had something to communicate to him in private.\n\n\"But where is Friedemann?\" asked both father and son.\n\n\"As I said, at the house of Signora Hasse.\"\n\n\"What does he there?\" asked the father.\n\n\"That is what I came to tell you.\"\n\nPhilip was sent out of the room. Sebastian seated himself, and with\ndignity inquired what the gentleman who called himself Friedemann's\nfriend had to communicate.\n\n\"I am his friend,\" replied the page, \"and have proved it not for the\nfirst time to-day.\"\n\n\"And those two strangers--\"\n\n\"Were officers sent to arrest him.\"\n\nThe page went on to tell his story, the bold levity of his manner\nsomewhat subdued before the dignity of the excellent old man, who\nsat with his clear, searching eyes fastened upon him. He began with\na preamble about the strict manner in which Sebastian had brought up\nhis sons, and the difference between Friedemann and his brothers.\n\"You are too innocent of knowing the world,\" he continued, \"to be\nable to shield him against all the dangers that beset the path of\nyouth. Till he came to Dresden, your son knew nothing of life beyond\nthe paternal dwelling and the church of St. Thomas. He has been\nreceived here as the son of an illustrious artist; he has won a proud\ndistinction for himself. Can you wonder that applause and flattery\nhave turned his head a little? He might have got over that; but, as\nill-luck would have it, the Countess Von Bruhl employed him as her\nmusic-master. He fell in love with her.\"\n\n\"Is the boy mad?\" exclaimed Bach, rising from his chair.\n\n\"Friedemann's first thought afterward was of his father. His union\nwith the girl he loved was impossible; equally so his voluntary\nseparation from her society. Her uncle bade her receive a rich and\nnoble suitor. Compelled to give up hope, the victim of the wildest\nremorse and anguish, Friedemann fled to dissipation for relief. I\nstrove in vain to help him; but his grief was too new, too fierce and\nconsuming; I looked to time only for the cure. In wild company only\ncould he find diversion from maddening thoughts, and I feared the\nworst if that resource were denied him. Now he has taken a prudent\nstep. He has broken off his acquaintance with the countess.\"\n\n\"Heaven be praised!\" cried the father clasping his hands.\n\n\"But her uncle, the minister, had discovered their intimacy. He has\nsworn the destruction of your son. I have been fortunate enough to\nbaffle him. But Friedemann must instantly leave Dresden.\"\n\n\"He shall!\" cried Sebastian. \"My poor son needs comfort; he can find\nit only at home.\"\n\n\"Then he may come to you?\"\n\n\"Could a father repel his unhappy child? I know, alas! his fiery\nsoul, his need of sympathy. Bring him to his loving father's arms.\"\n\nScherbitz caught the old man's hand and warmly pressed it.\n\n\"Friedemann is saved!\" he exclaimed.\n\nHe left the room and the house, promising soon to return. Sebastian\nsat long in a mournful reverie. Then seating himself at the piano, he\nplayed a soft prelude, and sang a beautiful melody by Paul Gerhard.\nThe music swelled into majestic harmony, and many a passer-by in the\nstreet stopped to listen, drinking in peace and consolation from the\nheavenly sounds.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFaustina Hasse, the most beautiful woman in Dresden, and the greatest\ndramatic singer not only of her own, but perhaps of all times, was\nreclining on a sofa in a luxuriously-furnished room in her palace.\nFlowers stood on a table beside her, and several costly trifles\nwere thrown about; but she was simply dressed in white muslin, with\na necklace and bracelets of pearls. Her little foot in its satin\nslipper beat impatiently the footstool on which it rested; there was\na tint of painful excitement on her cheek; and a touch of melancholy\nabout her mouth softened the pride that usually masked her lovely\nfeatures.\n\nA waiting-maid had just presented the card of a visitor on a silver\nplate.\n\n\"I will see him,\" was the careless answer.\n\nThe maid retired and ushered in the Count von Bruhl, who made a\nlow and courtly obeisance. The signora bent her head slightly, and\nmotioned the count to a seat.\n\n\"You are surprised at a visit so late in the evening, signora?\" the\nminister asked gently, after an embarrassed silence.\n\n\"I do not know its object,\" was her calm reply.\n\n\"Easily explained,\" with a bland smile. \"I am known for a fond\nhusband; in a fortnight I shall give a _f\u00eate_ for my wife's birthday.\nIt will surpass all other _f\u00eates_ in splendor, if the Signora Hasse\nwill favor it with her presence. May I hope that she will do so?\"\n\n\"I do not sing, my lord minister.\"\n\n\"The signora has misunderstood my humble petition. Even the elector,\nwhose admiration of the signora's genius is well known, would not\nventure to solicit such a favor.\"\n\n\"Will his highness be there?\"\n\n\"He promised to honor me.\"\n\n\"I will come.\"\n\n\"Signora, my gratitude is unbounded!\" He raised her hand to his lips,\nand retired with a low bow.\n\nFaustina sprang to her feet, her eyes flashing fire.\n\n\"Stop, monsieur!\" she cried.\n\nThe minister stood still.\n\n\"Where is Friedemann Bach?\" demanded the lady.\n\nThe minister started visibly, but suppressed all sign of emotion.\nWith a courtly smile he endeavored to evade reply.\n\n\"Where is Friedemann Bach?\" still more angrily asked Faustina.\n\nSomething in her face warned the count not to trifle with her.\n\n\"He is probably on his way to K\u00f6nigstein,\" answered the premier.\n\n\"For what offence?\" asked the lady with a smile of scorn.\n\n\"Oh! he needs discipline. The whole parish is disgusted at the\nscandalous life led by their court-organist. He edifies the\ndevotional with his organ-playing on Sunday morning; but joins his\nfellow-rioters in the wildest orgies at Seconda's, on Sunday night.\"\n\n\"What have you done with his fellow-rioters?\"\n\n\"They belong to high families,\" answered the count with a significant\nshrug.\n\n\"And pass uncensured. Very fair, my lord minister! But you are\nmistaken. Bach is not on the road to K\u00f6nigstein. He has just had an\ninterview with his highness, here, in my house. I am known to have\nsome influence with the elector; and have used it.\"\n\n\"What have you done, signora?\" exclaimed the minister, shocked into a\nreal expression of his feelings.\n\n\"Silence!\" said Faustina haughtily. \"His highness knows all; knows\nwhy you have persecuted the unhappy youth, why you would bring misery\non the whole family--such a family! Heartless courtier! What can you\nknow of the worth of such a man? Friedemann leaves Dresden; but you\nmust provide him with another place, and one worthy of his genius.\nThe elector wills it so.\"\n\nShe passed out of the room. The count walked to the window,\nlooked out into the dark night, and drummed on the pane in some\nembarrassment. There was a storm in his breast, but it was necessary\nto suppress all agitation. Presently he turned around, and saw\nFriedemann Bach and the page, Von Scherbitz, standing in the room.\nThe minister walked toward them, and said in a gentle tone,\n\n\"Monsieur Bach, I am concerned that you must leave us; but it is\nnecessary. You will go as soon as possible to Merseburg. The place of\norganist in that cathedral is vacant, and I have appointed you to it.\nI wish you a pleasant journey.\"\n\nAnd with a bow he retired.\n\n\"_Bravissimo, mon comte!_\" cried the page, laughing heartily.\n\"Roscius was a bungling actor to him. Come now, _mon ami_,\" turning\nto Friedemann--\"to your father. He knows all.\"\n\nFriedemann followed him out with a look of despair. It was a clear,\nstarry winter night. As they came to Bach's house, they heard the\nhymn Sebastian was singing. As they entered the room, he rose and\nbade his son welcome.\n\n\"Can you forgive me, father?\" murmured Friedemann gloomily.\n\n\"I have forgiven you; for I trust in your ability to amend.\"\n\n\"No word of reproach?\"\n\n\"Your conscience does that; my part is to comfort you. Come home to\nLeipzig.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Friedemann resolutely; \"I will not go home till I am again\nworthy to be received there.\"\n\n\"Are you so resolved?\"\n\n\"My life henceforward shall show that I am true to you, father. I\nwill strive to overcome the anguish and remorse that have wrecked me.\nIf I succeed, all will be well. If I fail in the struggle--\"\n\n\"Then come to my heart, Friedemann!\"\n\n\"I will.\"\n\nThe son threw himself into his father's arms.\n\nThe next morning Sebastian and Philip returned to Leipzig, while\nFriedemann set out on his journey to Merseburg.\n\n\nPART SECOND.\n\nMadam Anna Bach, the wife of Sebastian, was at home in Leipzig with\nher daughters and her youngest son, Christian, waiting for the father\nto join them after he had dismissed his pupils for the day. Thirteen\nyears had elapsed since the occurrences related.\n\nJohann Sebastian Bach came in presently. He was still a stately and\nhandsome man, bright-eyed, and steady in his carriage; but the once\nsmooth forehead was furrowed with care; his cheeks had fallen in, and\ntheir livid hue betrayed internal disease.\n\nHe held out his hand to his wife, as he placed himself in his\narm-chair.\n\n\"You seem exhausted to-day,\" Madame Bach remarked. \"I am glad the\nlessons are over.\"\n\nSebastian smiled.\n\n\"I have strength left,\" he said, \"to make good scholars; and so long\nas I can work, none shall find me remiss. You look so pleased; what\nhave you there?\"\n\n\"A letter for you, from Philip.\"\n\n\"Ho! ho!\" cried Sebastian joyfully; \"has the scapegrace at last\nfound time to write to his old father? I have sometimes thought he\nhas forgotten how to write since he has been concert-master in the\nservice of his Majesty of Prussia! Well, what says he?\" And he opened\nand read the letter.\n\nIt was a dutiful but rather stiff epistle from a young man unused to\nliterary composition. He described life in Berlin, and the concerts\ngiven at court two or three times a week, with the private musical\nentertainments the king had in his cabinet, where Philip Emmanuel\naccompanied on the piano his majesty's performance on the flute. The\nking, he wrote, played the flute surprisingly; but was capricious as\nto time, following the notes less than his own will and pleasure.\n\n\"He always,\" the letter concluded, \"inquires after my esteemed\nfather; and often says, 'Will not your papa come once more to\nBerlin?' I can promise that if my dear and esteemed father will visit\nus, he will be received with joy and honors by all. Be pleased to\npardon my hasty writing; convey my best love and duty to my most\nhonored mother, my beloved brothers and sisters, and make me happy\nwith a speedy answer.\n\n    \"Your dutiful son,\n\n                           \"PHILIP EMMANUEL BACH.\"\n\nAs Sebastian refolded the letter, his wife asked what he thought of\nanother visit to Berlin.\n\n\"It would do me good,\" said Sebastian. \"I would gladly see the king\nonce more. Twice in my life have I believed there was something\ngood in me: the first time was in the year 1717, when my contest\nwas appointed with M. Marchand, and he took himself quietly off the\nevening before it; the second time was three years ago, when the\ngreat King of Prussia came into the antechamber to welcome me, and\nwhen some rude chamberlains laughed at my expressions of duty and\nhomage, his majesty chid them with, '_Messieurs, voyez vous, c'est le\nvieux Bach_.' That pleased Friedemann so much!\"\n\n\"Then you will go to Berlin?\"\n\n\"If I can get leave of absence, and if I find a small overplus of\nmoney in the purse. Strange, that in my old days I should be seized\nwith a roving propensity! I had nothing of it in youth. Well, let us\ngo in to dinner.\"\n\nIt was near the close of day, and Sebastian sat outside the door of\nhis dwelling, surrounded by his family, under the stately lindens\nthat shaded the avenue leading to the old Thomas's school. The mother\nand her daughters were occupied in needlework and knitting; the\nyounger sons were listening to their father's anecdotes of the old\norganist, Reinecken, his instructor in Hamburg. The setting sun shone\non a lovely picture.\n\nCaroline, who had her eyes turned toward the corner of Cloister\nstreet and Thomas's churchyard, suddenly uttered a cry of joy, and\nsprang to her feet.\n\nThe others rose and asked what was the matter; the venerable father\nalone kept his seat. A tall figure was seen crossing the churchyard;\nand now Sebastian rose, for he recognized his son Friedemann.\n\n\"Father,\" cried Friedemann, \"I have come to stay with you!\"\n\nThe father stretched out his arms and warmly embraced his son. The\nothers crowded round him, bidding him a joyous welcome. Nearly an\nhour passed in the delightful confusion of such a reunion.\n\nLater in the evening, Sebastian was alone with his son, and asked\nwhat had brought him home so suddenly.\n\nFriedemann had overmastered the sorrow that had crushed his spirit\nthirteen years before. But a thousand difficulties were in his way,\nand the struggle preyed on his mind. He began to despair of ever\ndoing any thing truly great in art. He had wished to strike out a new\npath; the motive of his efforts was pure, and he did not design to\nneglect the excellent old school.\n\n\"But I have been slandered, insulted!\" he exclaimed bitterly. \"My aim\nhas been ridiculed, my endeavors have been maliciously criticised, my\nmerits decried.\"\n\n\"By whom, Friedemann?\"\n\nFriedemann colored as he answered, \"I know I am wrong to be disturbed\nby the malignity of a shallow fool; but I cannot help it. There is a\ncritic in Halle, one schoolmaster Kniffe, who passes for a luminary\nin the musical horizon, and writes reviews.\"\n\n\"I have seen them; they are absurd,\" said Sebastian. \"He must cause\nsome sport in Halle.\"\n\n\"On the contrary, he is dreaded on account of his malice; and his\nbase libels please the ill-natured and envious.\"\n\n\"And know you not,\" asked his father, \"that only the base and evil\narray themselves against the good? Is there a more certain proof of\nelevated worth than the impotent rage and opposition of the vicious?\nI never taught you to look with pride or arrogance on your equals\nor inferiors; but to be calm and self-possessed, and to maintain\nyour ground in reliance on Him to whom alone you are accountable.\nDo that, Friedemann, and no stupid or malicious critic can make you\ndissatisfied with yourself.\"\n\nHere Caroline came in, announcing that a stranger wished to speak\nwith her father.\n\n\"He would not,\" she said, \"give his name.\"\n\nSebastian bade her bring him in. Presently a sharp voice called out,\n\n\"_Bon soir, mon cher_ papa!\" and the stranger entered and took the\nold man's hand. \"Do you not know me?\"\n\nFriedemann recognized him, and saluted Monsieur von Scherbitz.\n\n\"Ha! our ex-court-organist. The same ill-boding frown between the\nbrows as in 1737! You are little changed in thirteen years. And I, at\nfifty-three, am grown to be a first lieutenant.\"\n\n\"You proved a friend to my son in his danger,\" said Sebastian, \"and\nare therefore welcome to me and mine. To what lucky chance am I\nindebted for this visit to my quiet home?\"\n\n\"To the most unlucky, my dear sir! I was so careless, at the prime\nminister's last court, as to tread on the left fore paw of his\nlady consort's lapdog. The beast cried out; the countess demanded\nsatisfaction; and in punishment for my misdeed I am marched as first\nlieutenant to Poland in the body-guard of his excellency.\"\n\nSebastian felt a horror creep over him at the sarcastic, misanthropic\nwit of his visitor, and sought to change the conversation. But\nScherbitz went on jesting in his bitter way about his tragical\ndestiny, concluding with the information that he had come over to\nLeipzig simply to see Papa Bach once more in his life; for, on the\nword of a first lieutenant, he had loved and honored him since the\nfirst time he had seen him thirteen years ago.\n\nThe next morning Scherbitz walked in the little garden behind\nThomas's school, bounded by its high wall. He saw Caroline fastening\na vine to an _espalier_, and came to assist her. In a conversation\nwith her, he learned that none of the daughters of Bach had any\ntalent for music. The charming singing he had heard early in the\nmorning was by Madam Bach. But Caroline had a poetic taste, and was\nFriedemann's favorite sister.\n\nIn talking with Friedemann, his friend could not fail to discover the\nmorbid state of his mind. Scherbitz thought it came from thinking too\ndeeply.\n\n\"Not the will,\" he said, \"but action removes mountains. We are but\nphilosophers, and the slaves of circumstances. Had not the minister\nplayed the spy on you and his pretty niece, had not I stepped on the\nlapdog's foot, we might both have been at this moment sitting quietly\nin Dresden; you beside Natalie, witching the world with music; I as a\nmerry page of fifty-three, jesting and enduring.\"\n\n\"Do you know,\" said Friedemann, and as he spoke his countenance\naltered strangely, \"I have often prayed that I might be mad, for a\ntime--not for ever!\" In a quick, vehement tone, \"Oh! no--no--not for\never; but mad enough to forget. And yet, the memory of what I have\nsuffered would even then cling to me!\"\n\nHe pressed his hands with a wild gesture over his eyes.\n\n\"You must not talk so wildly,\" said the lieutenant soothingly. \"You\nare yet young, and can accomplish much.\"\n\n\"What can I do?\" cried Friedemann with harrowing laughter. \"Nothing,\nnothing! At eight and thirty all is dead with me; I am older than\nyou! Ha! mark you not where _madness_ lurks yonder behind the door,\nmaking ready to spring upon my neck as I go out? He dares not seize\non me when my father is near; he shrinks up till he is little, and\nhides himself in a spider's web over the window. But he shall not get\nhold of me! Ha, ha, ha! I am cunning. I will not leave the chamber\nwithout my father. Look you, old page, I understand a feint as well\nas you!\"\n\n\"_Mon ami! mon ami!_ what is the matter?\" cried the lieutenant,\nand, seizing his friend by the shoulders, he shook him violently.\n\"Friedemann Bach! do you not hear me?\"\n\nFriedemann stared at him vacantly. At length his face lost its\nunnatural expression; his eyes became like living eyes, and he asked\nsoftly what M. von Scherbitz wanted.\n\n\"What makes you such an idiot, man? Recollect yourself!\" cried\nScherbitz.\n\nFriedemann gave a forced laugh.\n\n\"You take a jest deeply,\" he said. \"And you really believe that I am\nsometimes mad? Not yet, friend! I am more rational than ever.\"\n\n\"Well, _mon ami_, it was your jest; but one should not paint the\ndevil on the wall. Sit down, and play me something till I get over\nmy fright. You acted your part so naturally!\"\n\nFriedemann sat down to the instrument and began to play.\n\n\"I did not dream of this,\" muttered the lieutenant; while Friedemann,\nafter playing half an hour, suddenly let his hands drop, sank back,\nand fell fast asleep.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nOn the morning of the 21st of July, 1750, the church-bells were\nringing a solemn yet cheerful peal, inviting the pious to the house\nof God. The sun shone brightly; the old man's heart was renewed in\nlove and devotion, and even Friedemann's gloomy breast was penetrated\nwith the beam of comfort, joy, and love. He had spent a part of the\nnight in studying a masterpiece of his father's, the great Passion\nmusic. Full of the grandeur of the work, his face animated, he was\nwalking to and fro in his father's chamber, pondering a similar work\nwhich he thought of undertaking.\n\nSebastian sat in his arm-chair, with folded arms, dressed ready\nfor church. He followed with his eyes, smiling affectionately, the\nmovements of his son. After a while, he said,\n\n\"I am glad the Passion music pleases you so well. I have a work of\nquite another kind, finished, the first idea of which I got from your\n_Fughetten_. And you are the first, after me, that shall see it.\"\n\nHe went to his desk, opened it, took out a sealed packet, and gave it\nto his son. It was inscribed, \"To my son Friedemann.\"\n\n\"I meant it for you, in case of my death before I saw you,\" said the\nold man. \"You may break the seal.\"\n\nFriedemann opened the packet. It contained that nobly conceived,\nadmirably executed work which from the day of its appearance has\ncommanded the reverent admiration of all the initiated--_The Art of\nFugues_, by Johann Sebastian Bach.\n\nFriedemann looked over the manuscript with sparkling eyes.\n\n\"And _my_ poor attempt,\" he cried, \"has suggested a work destined\nto immortalize its author! I have not lived in vain. O my father!\nthanks. You have made me a noble present.\"\n\n\"You have rewarded me, Friedemann.\"\n\nSebastian went on to pour into his son's heart the kindly words of\nwisdom.\n\n\"While you labor to deserve the appreciation of your equals,\" he\nsaid, \"strive to instruct those who cannot thus repay you. It is for\nman only to show to the best that he belongs to the best. Let your\nlight shine--else you lower yourself, and rebel against your Master.\"\n\nThe chime of the bells, that had ceased, now recommenced; and\nMadam Bach came in with her daughters, young Christian, and the\nlieutenant. All were ready for church. Madam Bach gave her husband\nhis prayer-book and a bunch of flowers; Caroline brought his hat.\n\nSebastian rose, gave his arm to his wife, and walked to the door.\nTurning back an instant, he glanced at the window shaded with\nvine-leaves glistening in the sunlight, and said,\n\n\"What a lovely morning!\"\n\nAs he went out of the room, he stopped suddenly, and let fall the\nflowers and the prayer-book. The women screamed with fright. The old\nman struggled for a few moments, then sank back lifeless into the\narms of his son.\n\nThus died Johann Sebastian Bach, by a stroke of apoplexy.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThree years had passed. The wealthy Baron von Globig celebrated the\nfeast of the vintage at his magnificent villa not far from Dresden.\nGilded gondolas, with long and many-colored pennants, were gliding to\nand fro over the bosom of the Elbe, landing the distinguished guests.\nThe profuse splendor that marked all the preparations was worthy of\nthe favorite of the Count von Bruhl. Nothing the most fastidious\ntaste could suggest was wanting.\n\nFew in the aristocratic company seemed to notice the host; but his\nlovely wife was the observed of all. She was dignified and courteous,\nbut appeared to take little interest in any thing.\n\nAs twilight came on, colored lamps were lighted in the gardens, and\ngorgeous illuminations were displayed. Bands of musicians played\nalternately; stately men and beautiful women moved in the merry\ndance, and general hilarity prevailed.\n\nWhen the company returned to the great drawing-room, the Prussian\nambassador presented to the lady of the house a distinguished-looking\nman as Philip Emmanuel, the second son of the great Sebastian Bach.\n\nThe baroness colored, and gave a furtive glance around her. After a\nfew words of conversation, she asked Bach, in a careless tone, where\nwas his elder brother.\n\n\"We do not know,\" answered Philip sadly. \"None of us has seen\nFriedemann since the day of our father's death, when he suddenly\nquitted Leipzig.\"\n\n\"Have you heard nothing of him?\"\n\n\"Nothing--except that he had been at times before subject to fits of\nmelancholy, which threatened his reason. We fear the worst.\"\n\nThe baroness turned away in silence. The baron came up, and presented\na petition for a little piece of music from the celebrated Monsieur\nBach.\n\n\"We are to have some variety,\" he added; \"a bit of fun, by way of\nenhancing the effect of your divine playing. A poor, half-crazy\nmusician from the Prague choir, who plays dances in the villages,\nwill be permitted to give us a tune in the antechamber. The doors\nmay be opened; but he must not come into the light, for his dress is\nshabby and disordered.\"\n\nThe music sounded from the ante-room. A servant threw open the doors,\nand in the imperfect light the guests saw a meanly-dressed man\nsitting at the piano, his back toward them. They had expected a joke;\nthe baron having told many of them what a surprise he had in store.\nBut when they heard the playing--the wonderful, entrancing melody,\nnow towering into passion, now sinking to a harmonious plaint, which\nthe poor, unknown musician drew from the instrument--all were deeply\ntouched. The baroness and Philip stood, pale as death, looking\ninquiringly yet doubtingly upon each other. At a bold turn in the\nmusic, the baroness leaned toward him, whispering,\n\n\"'Tis he!\" and Philip exclaimed aloud,\n\n\"It is my brother--Friedemann!\"\n\nThe musician turned, sprang up, and rushed into Philip's\narms. At sight of the baroness, he started back with the\nexclamation--\"Natalie!\"\n\nThe baroness sank back in a swoon. Friedemann tore himself from\nPhilip's arms, forced his way through the crowd, and rushed from the\nhouse. The shock had brought on another attack of his awful malady.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAn old man, past three score and ten, sat in a room in the upper\nstory of a house in one of the suburbs of Berlin. He was reading a\npile of music that lay on the table, making notes on the margin with\na pencil. The room was poorly furnished, and lighted by a single\nlamp that flared in the currents of air, flinging fitful shadows\non the wall. The storm raging without shook the loose panes in the\nwindow, and twisted the weather-cocks on the roof till they creaked\nas they swung. The cold had penetrated the chamber, and the fire in\nthe grate was scanty. It was the last night of the year.\n\nBut all absorbed sat the old man, and heeded not cold or tempest as\nhe read the music. His form was tall and emaciated; his pale face\nshowed the ravages of age and disease. His thin, white locks fell\nback from his temples; but his large eyes had the brightness of\nyouthful enthusiasm.\n\nThe bell struck midnight. The sounds of festal music, singing, and\nshouting came from the streets; and faintly on the wind came the\nswell of the _Te Deum_ chanted in a neighboring church.\n\nThe old man looked up from his reading, and listened attentively.\nThere was a dreamy, far-away look in his eyes.\n\nThe door opened, and a young man, with a pale and melancholy face,\nand a form more meagre than the other's, came into the room.\n\n\"What hour struck?\" asked the old man.\n\n\"Midnight. You had better go to bed.\"\n\n\"I do not need sleep. Look, I have been reading this legacy of my\nfather. Ah! if you, poor Theodore, could have had such a father. What\nyear has just begun?\"\n\n\"Eighty-four.\"\n\n\"Eighty-four! Forty-seven years ago.... We will not speak of that.\"\n\n\"Poor old friend! Will you never tell me who you are?\"\n\n\"You did not ask me the day I first saw you; when I found a madman\njust about to take his own life. I pulled away the weapon; I bade you\nlive!\"\n\n\"You saved my life; but what is it worth? You see me old even in\nyouth.\"\n\n\"You will live many years yet.\"\n\n\"No. I suffer a great deal; I feel that my hours are numbered. But\nwhy not tell me your name?\"\n\n\"He who composed that noble work,\" said the old man, pointing to the\nmusic, \"was my father.\"\n\n\"The name was on the first leaf, with the title of the music, and you\nhave torn it out! I do not understand music, you know. Tell me, old\nfriend, what to call you?\"\n\n\"'The Old Musician.'\"\n\n\"So the few who know you in this great city always call you. But your\nother name?\"\n\n\"I have promised to reveal it only to an artist in music.\"\n\nThen, noticing the pallid and sunken cheek of his young companion, he\nsaid,\n\n\"Has the new year brought you nothing, Theodore?\"\n\nTheodore took a roll of money from his vest pocket, and threw it on\nthe table.\n\n\"Gold!\" exclaimed the old man.\n\n\"Yes--when we need it no longer!\"\n\nHe drew out a flask from the pocket of his cloak.\n\n\"Wine, too; the best of Johannisberger! You have tasted no wine\nlately; drink to the new year.\"\n\nThe old man turned away; for bitter recollections came up, associated\nwith the season.\n\nTheodore took two glasses from the buffet, drew up a chair, sat down,\nand uncorked the flask. He filled the old man's glass and his own\nwith the wine, which diffused a rich fragrance.\n\nThe old man asked, at length, how he came by such luck.\n\n\"I sold my paintings to a lord travelling through the city.\"\n\n\"What a pity you could not exhibit them!\"\n\n\"Those sketches cost me seven years of more than labor: all I have\nthought, lived, suffered; the early dreams of youth; the stern repose\nafter the struggle with fate! I sacrificed all. I spared not even the\nglimmering spark of life; and thought when the work was finished the\nlaurel would deck my brow in death. All fancies! Wherever I offered\nmy work, I was repulsed. The publishers thought the undertaking too\nexpensive. Some advised me to paint scenes from the Seven Years' War;\nothers called my sketches wild and fantastic.\"\n\n\"Ay, ay!\" murmured the old man. \"Lessing, who died three years\nago, said to me rightly, 'All the artist accomplishes beyond the\nappreciation of the multitude, brings him neither profit nor honor!\nThe highest must grovel with the worm.'\"\n\n\"As long as I can remember, old friend, I have had but one\npassion--for my art. Yet must I degrade art to the rabble; must paint\napish faces, while visions of divine loveliness float before me; must\nfeel the genius within me comprehended by none; must be driven to\ndespair of myself! With all my gifts, I must ask myself, at five and\ntwenty, Wherefore have I lived?\"\n\n\"Live on; the answer will come.\"\n\n\"Has it come to you? Had I gained the prize, I might have been like\nRaphael; you, like some great master of your art. Success was not for\nus; and we are doomed to insignificance.\"\n\n\"Silence!\" cried the old man; \"that leads to madness. I know the\nhorror of madness. They tell me I was a long time so.\"\n\n\"No fear of that, old friend. We are both too near a sure harbor.\nCome, fill up your glass! Hark to the music and shouting in the\nstreets. Here we sit, like the gods on the summit of Olympus, sipping\nnectar, and laughing at the fools below us. Drink as I do. No more?\nWell, yonder is your bed, and here is mine. Good-night to you.\"\n\nThey retired to rest. The storm ceased to beat on the window-panes;\nbut the bell-ringing and music continued throughout the night.\n\nThe bright sunshine of morning flooded the chamber. The old man arose\nand went to the window. It was a clear, cold morning; the air was\nkeen, the sky cloudless; the frost had wrought delicate tracery on\nthe panes.\n\nThe old man threw his cloak over his shoulders, and stood some time\nat the window. Then he went to awaken his young friend.\n\nHe touched the hand that lay outside the bed-covering; it was cold\nand stiff! Poor Theodore had fainted in the struggle with destiny.\nLong the prey of heart-disease, he had died in the night.\n\nThe old man stood as if paralyzed, gazing on the face of his dead\nfriend. His last stay was broken!\n\nSitting down by the body, he remained motionless the whole day. Late\nin the afternoon, the woman who kept the house came in with a message\nto Theodore, and found the old man exhausted and shivering with the\ncold. She led him into a warm room, and gave him nourishment.\n\nWhen Theodore was buried, the gold he left was given to the old\nman, with whom he had lived two years, supplying the wants of both\nby his scanty earnings as a portrait-painter and the sale of a\ndrawing now and then. Now that he had no resource for the future, the\npeople of the house advised the old man to go to the overseer of the\npoor-house. He shook his head, saying, \"No; I will go to Hamburg.\"\n\n\"To Hamburg!\" echoed the housekeeper. \"Hamburg is a long way from\nBerlin; you could not bear such a journey.\"\n\nBut the old man soon forgot his purpose. He resumed his wanderings\nthrough the streets of Berlin--his practice before he met with\nTheodore--stopping to listen whenever he heard music. He would\nsometimes go into the houses where concerts were given; and all who\nremembered him were glad to see \"the Old Musician\" once more.\n\nOne evening as he walked about the streets, he stopped to listen to\nmusic sounding from the windows of an illuminated palace. He went\nup the steps and was going in; but the porter, a Swiss, pushed him\nrudely back. So he stood without in the cold and cutting night wind,\nand listened, his whole soul absorbed in the music.\n\nA servant in livery came out, and ran against him. \"Ha!\" he exclaimed\nin surprise; \"is that you, Old Musician? How long it is since I have\nseen you. Why do you stand there shaking in the cold?\"\n\n\"Monsieur Swiss would not let me pass,\" answered the old man.\n\n\"Monsieur Swiss is an idiot! Come in with me, old friend; you shall\nthaw your old limbs, and have some refreshment. My lord gives a grand\nconcert.\" To the porter he said, \"You must always let in the Old\nMusician; my lord has given orders that it shall be so. He comes to\nenjoy the music.\"\n\nHe led the old man to a seat near the fire in one of the ante-rooms,\nand drew a folding screen before him. \"You are out of view here,\"\nhe said; \"but you can hear every thing. I will bring you a glass of\nwine.\"\n\nAll that evening the old man listened to music that thrilled his\ninmost heart. It was late when the concert ended. Then the man who\nhad brought him in, came and told him it was time to go, offering to\nsend a boy home with him.\n\n\"That was admirable music,\" said the old man drawing a deep breath.\n\n\"It was,\" replied the servant. \"All you heard was composed by the\nsame master, who is staying with my lord at present.\"\n\n\"What is his name?\"\n\n\"It is Master Naumann, chapel-master to the Elector of Saxony.\"\n\n\"Let me speak with him, if he is in the house.\"\n\n\"Certainly, if you want to ask any thing.\"\n\n\"I want to thank him.\"\n\n\"Well, come to-morrow morning.\"\n\nThe next morning the strange visitor was announced to the composer\nNaumann.\n\n\"Who is the Old Musician?\" he asked. The man could not tell. He had\nbeen known by that name for years in Berlin, and was thought to\nbe partially insane at times. But he was said to have a thorough\nknowledge of music.\n\n\"Bring him in,\" said Naumann. The old man entered the room. He had a\ndignity of mien that inspired respect, in spite of his poor apparel;\nand Naumann rose and advanced to meet him.\n\n\"You are welcome, my good friend, though I know not your\nname--welcome as a lover of our noble art. Take this chair.\"\n\nThe old man, still standing, answered, \"I come to thank you, sir,\nfor the pleasure of hearing your concert last evening. I was a\nlistener, privately, and understood that your latest compositions\nwere performed. I will not conceal my name from you. I am Friedemann\nBach.\"\n\nNaumann stood petrified with astonishment. \"Friedemann Bach!\" at\nlength he repeated; \"the great son of the great Sebastian. How\nstrange, indeed! I saw your brother Philip at Hamburg, only last\nyear. The excellent old man mourns you as dead.\"\n\n\"I would be dead to all who knew me in better days,\" was the\nmelancholy reply. \"It would grieve them to know how sad a failure\nmy life has been. Even in Berlin none know that Friedemann Bach yet\nlives; not even Mendelssohn, the friend of Lessing. While he lived, I\nhad no fear of starving.\"\n\nNaumann was deeply affected. Philip had told him his brother's\nhistory; his sorrows, his disappointments, his terrible suffering for\nyears. \"What can I do for you?\" he asked mournfully.\n\n\"Nothing,\" answered Bach. \"You have done every thing in showing me\nwhat I could and should have done. You know how I failed; how my life\nwas wasted; how I fell short in all my bold and burning schemes.\nI fainted, and did not reap. But you need not the warning of my\nhistory. You walk securely and cheerfully in the right path. I can\nonly thank you for your magnificent works. The blessing of God be\nwith you! I feel now that I have nothing more to do in this world.\"\n\nHe turned away, and was gone before Naumann could recover from the\nemotion his words called forth. He called the servant to ask where he\ncould be found; but no one could tell him. The boy who had escorted\nthe old man home had not been suffered to go to his door. At length\nhe met with Moses Mendelssohn, and told him what had happened.\n\nMendelssohn was astonished to learn that Friedemann Bach yet lived,\nand in Berlin. The only clue he had was his knowledge of Lessing's\nold dwelling, where the old musician lived some time before.\n\nThe next morning the two went to the Friedrichstadt, and found\nLessing's house. The housekeeper opened the door.\n\n\"Does M. Friedemann Bach live here yet?\" asked Mendelssohn.\n\nThe woman shook her head, lifting the corner of her apron at the same\ntime to wipe her eyes.\n\n\"Pardon me,\" she cried; \"but I cannot help it! Just at this time\nyesterday they carried away my poor friend, the Old Musician. He died\nthree weeks after his young friend, the painter.\"\n\nHer voice was choked with tears.\n\nThere was no need of further inquiry. Poor Bach was a wanderer no\nmore.\n\n\n\n\nON ST. PETER DELIVERED FROM PRISON.\n\n\n    This is no mystery\n    Or juggler's play\n    Which here is told.\n    What lock can stay\n    Him who the key\n    Of heaven doth hold?\n\n\n\n\n\"IT'S WRONG!\"\n\n\n    \"It's wrong! It's wrong!\" the whole day long\n    My hidden censor has piped the song,\n    Till my ears are tingling like a gong\n                        With--\"It's wrong! It's wrong!\"\n\n    Out by my chamber window there,\n    In the mulberry-tops, in the August air,\n    The mock-bird sings his devil-may-care--\n                              \"It's wrong! It's wrong!\"\n\n    Rash birdy! have you no monishing fear--\n    Chiding a monarch as you do here?\n    I'm regal in all this little sphere!\n                              \"It's wrong! It's wrong!\"\n\n    You laying down law for the village queen,\n    Who from her envied height serene\n    Gives a code to its best, I ween!\n                              \"It's wrong! It's wrong!\"\n\n    Ha! see, I am decking my \"throat of snow\"\n    With his costly gems, (he called it so.)\n    What if little Barefoot beg below?\n                              \"It's wrong! It's wrong!\"\n\n    Look, little sage, in my bright blue eyes!\n    Their color was caught from the summer skies.\n    He says it; and ah! he is very wise.\n                              \"It's wrong! It's wrong!\"\n\n    Ha! self-wise bird, I am fooling you.\n    My lover is not more gallant than true,\n    And we'll go tripping it through the dew--\n                              \"It's wrong! It's wrong!\"\n\n    What! wrong to go by the shiny birch\n    That shades the lane to the village church?\n    Wrong, may be, to leave you in the lurch?\n                              \"It's wrong! It's wrong!\"\n\n    O birdy! I'll be a love-in-the-mist,\n    In my loom-fog veil, when the bride is kissed,\n    Blushing through filmy folds--ah! hist!\n                              \"It's wrong! It's wrong!\"\n\n    Well, welladay for the wedding-bells!\n    Arch-misanthrope, what is this he tells\n    As whistle and chime go down the dells?\n                              \"It's wrong! It's wrong!\"\n\n\n\n\nBRITISH PREMIERS IN RELATION TO BRITISH CATHOLICS.\n\nCONCLUDED.\n\n\nEvery step toward emancipation, however halting and feeble, was of\ngreat consequence, since it established a precedent--and precedents\nin England have often the force of law. Thus, the act fifth, George\nIV., chapter seventy-nine, permitted persons to hold office in the\nreceipt of customs, without taking any oath but that of allegiance.\nThis was a gain, trivial in itself, yet, under the circumstances,\nnot to be despised. The same thing was true of Mr. George Bankes's\nbill, relieving English Catholics from penalty of double assessment\nof land-tax. It was introduced and passed in 1828. While recording\nCanning's services to the cause which Catholics had at heart,\nwe must not forget to show how ready he was, on the other hand,\nto combine with his colleagues when Ireland had to be oppressed\nand persecuted. In 1825, they agreed, with one mind, to put down\nthe Irish Catholic Association, because they saw how powerful an\ninstrument it would become, in O'Connell's hands, for the attainment\nof freedom. The bill by which they suppressed it was called, by the\nLiberator, \"the Algerine Bill.\" But in the same year an attempt\nwas made, with very doubtful sincerity, to modify the maddening\neffect of this suppression by conferences with O'Connell, Sheil,\nand other lay Catholics of influence, by inducing them to assent\nto a proposal, made by way of compensation, for the pensioning of\nthe Catholic clergy, and the disfranchisement of the forty-shilling\nfreeholders.[187] These were to be \"the two wings\" of a Catholic\nrelief bill, and to this offer O'Connell was induced to adhere.\nThe measure was introduced by Sir Francis Burdett, in April, 1825.\nIt passed the Commons by a considerable majority; and was then,\nas might have been expected, thrown out by the Lords, who were\nfortified in their opposition by the Duke of York. Thus the great\nwork of emancipation was again postponed. Though there had been\npoints in Canning's conduct which were displeasing to Catholics;\nthough, with strange inconsistency, he resisted the repeal of the\ntest and corporation acts, which by relieving dissenters would have\nrelieved Catholics also; though he was sharply attacked by Brougham,\nand charged with pleading their cause without the smallest idea of\nsuccess, and with betraying those whom he appeared to befriend, yet\nthey listened with delight to his speech in behalf of their claims a\nfew months before his death. They placed their confidence in him, and\nlooked forward to his premiership as the season of their deliverance.\nBut as Pitt had resigned office in consequence of his attachment to\nthe Catholic cause, so it was Canning's fate also to taste the bitter\nfruits of befriending an oppressed and hated communion. The frowns\nof royalty, the fury of Tories, and the perfidy of Whigs, combined\nwith the insidious growth of disease to bring him down to the grave\nharassed and worn.\n\nA _recess government_ followed. Lord Goderich had been a supporter\nof the Catholic claims; but mediocrity such as his could not be\nexpected to hold its place long at the head of affairs, and still\nless to conduct a momentous and vital question to a happy issue.\nThat question, like all others of equal magnitude, had to be settled\nout of parliament before it could be carried within its walls. The\nmonster meetings assembled in Ireland at the call of O'Connell\nbrought the matter to a crisis, and convinced all reasonable men that\nconcession could not long be delayed. Yet the Duke of Wellington, who\nsucceeded Lord Goderich in 1828, and Sir Robert Peel still ranged\nthemselves on the side of the opponents of emancipation. The Lords,\nin the month of June, rejected a motion pledging them to a favorable\nconsideration of the measure. Vesey Fitzgerald, however, an Irish\nliberal, was made president of the Board of Trade, and required,\naccording to English law, to be reelected as member of parliament\nbefore he could hold his office in the government. It was a glorious\nopportunity for the Irish, and they embraced it manfully. At the\nsuggestion of Sir David Roos, an Orangeman,[188] and of an intimate\nfriend named Fitzpatrick, O'Connell proposed himself as a candidate\nfor Clare, in opposition to the _prot\u00e9g\u00e9_ of the government, Mr.\nVesey Fitzgerald. In such a conflict the odds were all but desperate;\nyet O'Connell was victorious, although _legally_ ineligible. He was\ndeclared duly returned; and he was the first Catholic elected by an\nIrish constituency since the reign of James II.\n\nThat election was, in effect, the triumph of emancipation. It sunk\ndeep into the minds of the chiefs of the opposition. The greatest\nstatesmen had long been wavering in secret. Lord Liverpool had been\nconvinced some time before his death that the time for yielding the\npoint was drawing nigh, and that he would soon have to support the\nCatholic claims, if not as a premier, at least as a peer. Sir Robert\nPeel had, in 1825, requested Lord Liverpool to relieve him of office\non the ground that emancipation could no longer be deferred. Three\nyears later, he announced to the Duke of Wellington his resolution\nto support the claims he had so long resisted, and declared that,\nin pursuit of that \"great object,\" he was ready to sacrifice\n\"consistency and friendship.\" Little did the majority, either of\nhis friends or foes, imagine how deep a change his mind had really\nundergone.\n\nIt would hardly be too much to say the same of the duke. He was the\nonly man in England who could carry emancipation, and the only man\nwho did do it. He was that power in the state which the circumstance\nrequired. He accomplished in England, though with far different aims\nand feelings, what the lyre of Thomas Moore effected in Irish homes,\nand the eloquence of O'Connell on the fields of Tara and Clontarf.\nThe test and corporation act being repealed, his way was cleared.\nPersons holding office under the crown were no longer obliged to\nqualify themselves by receiving the Lord's Supper in the Established\nChurch. He began, therefore, by speaking on the Catholic claims\nwith studied ambiguity. Though he declared that his opinions on\nthis subject were as decided as those of any one in the house, he\nadded that he should oppose emancipation until he should see a\ngreat change in the question. That change was fast coming over it.\nHe knew that the Commons would then pass no very arbitrary laws;\nthat they would not require candidates for a seat in parliament to\ntake the oaths of allegiance and supremacy on the hustings; that\nwithout emancipation it would be impossible to disfranchise the\nforty-shilling freeholders; that others would be elected besides\nO'Connell; and that they could not be prevented from taking their\nseats and representing their constituents without a civil war. The\nduke, though a great general, was not a man of blood. He was not an\nimpracticable man, though a Tory. He knew how to \"take occasion by\nthe hand,\" and to do that of which St. Philip Neri says there is not\na finer thing on earth--make a virtue of necessity. He was influenced\nin the matter by no abstract principle of justice, no enthusiasm in\nfavor of the oppressed, no sympathy with a proscribed faith; but he\nsincerely loved his country, and he came by degrees to feel convinced\nthat her interests were consulted best by altering the basis of her\nconstitution in church and state. He sought, indeed, securities from\nthose whom he proposed to relieve, and he purchased at their hands\nthe disfranchisement of the forty-shilling freeholders in Ireland;\nbut, on the other hand, he was willing to endow the Catholic Church\nin the sister isle, and to apply three hundred thousand pounds\nper annum toward the payment of the priests. To this part of his\nplan Peel could not be induced to consent, and it was subsequently\nabandoned. Great as Wellington was in war, he was greater in\npeace--greater in his victory over Protestant prejudices, and as the\nchampion of the rights of an injured people and a persecuted creed.\n\nOn the 5th of March, 1829, Sir Robert Peel (then Mr. Peel) brought\nforward a bill for the relief of Catholics. It was _the_ bill long\ndesired, clamored for, dreaded; which was to alter fundamentally\nthe character of English law, and change the destinies both of\nEngland and Ireland. It was preceded by a bill finally suppressing\nthe Catholic Association, at the very time when that association\nwas being dissolved of its own accord. The mind of Peel had been\nlong and anxiously engaged in the study of the question as regarded\nIreland. Night and day he had been examining evidence, pondering\nthe difficulties to be overcome, and the chances of success. It\nwas the nature of his mind to work in secret, and to manifest the\nresult only when it became absolutely necessary. During the period of\ntransition he voted against Catholic emancipation, but did so with\nmanifest repugnance. Whatever decision the house might come to, he\nsaid, he should give it his best acquiescence; and if the measure\nshould be carried, he should use his earnest endeavors to reconcile\nProtestants to it. When it was proposed to admit Catholic lords\ninto the upper house, he offered but slight opposition to the bill,\nnor did he object to granting English Catholics the same electoral\nrights as were enjoyed by their brethren in Ireland. His Tory friends\nwere offended by his moderation; for they loved \"the falsehood of\nextremes,\" and they could not comprehend his anxiety to promote\neducation among the Catholic as well as among the Protestant part\nof the population. They would not recollect how many indications he\nhad given of a possible change in his future conduct in reference\nto emancipation. They knew not, or they affected to forget, that two\nyears before Canning died, he had expressed to Lord Liverpool his\nconviction that emancipation must pass, and had offered to resign.\nSo long ago as 1821, he had declared, in reply to Plunket, that\neven if his own views prevailed, \"their prevalence must be mingled\nwith regret at the disappointment which he knew the success of such\nopinions must entail upon a great portion of his fellow-subjects.\"\nHe should, he said, \"cordially rejoice if his predictions proved\nunfounded, and his arguments groundless.\"\n\nThere were those who perceived the current his thoughts were taking,\nand among them was the Duke of Clarence, afterward William IV. One of\nthe duke's sons told Cardinal Acton that, when he returned home one\nnight from a very late division in the House of Commons, of which he\nwas a member, he went to his father's dressing-room, and was asked by\nthe duke how the division on emancipation had gone; and when he was\ntold that the bill had been lost, the duke said,\n\n\"That rascal, Peel, will adopt emancipation, will carry it, and take\nthe glory from us who have fought for it all our lives.\"[189]\n\nNo less remarkable were the words used by the Duke of Clarence\nwhen, at last, Wellington and Peel introduced, with all the weight\nof government recommendation, the great bill for Catholic relief.\nHe wished, he said, that the ministers had been as united in 1825\nas they proved in 1829. \"It will be forty-six years next month,\"\nhe added, \"since I first sat in this house; and I have never given\na vote of which, thank God! I have been ashamed; and never one\nwith so much pleasure as the vote I shall give in favor of Catholic\nemancipation.\"\n\nIt would be foreign to our purpose in this place to relate the\ncircumstances attending the passing of the bill, and the admission of\nO'Connell into the House of Commons. We are concerned, not so much\nwith these events, as with the premiers who brought them about. Peel\ndid not acquire the confidence of the Irish whom he had emancipated.\nO'Connell regarded him with implacable aversion, and nothing could\nexceed the hatred and distrust with which he was treated by the\nTories who had once been his friends. It was nothing to them that the\nchange of his politics had been the result of long and arduous study;\nthat he had taken nothing for granted, but required proof of every\nstatement made by those who sought to convert him to their side.\nThey had not seen what we possess--the posthumous volumes edited by\nPeel's trustees, Lord Stanhope and Mr. Cardwell--and they could not,\ntherefore, judge of the laborious and conscientious search by which\nhe arrived at his conclusions; and even if they had seen them, it\nis probable that they would have reproached him for investigating\nthe subject in a hesitating frame of mind, and for beating out for\nhimself and many of his followers a path of apostasy.\n\nEighteen years passed by before any other measure of importance\naffecting Catholic interests was laid before the houses of\nparliament. The influence of emancipation in a liberal direction was\nfelt deeply in the passing of the Reform Bill of 1832, which but for\nthat previous act of justice would have been impossible. The Duke\nof Wellington prepared the way for Lord Grey, just as Grey and his\ncolleagues, by shaking the power of the aristocracy and destroying\nthe rotten boroughs, led in the issue to the more extended reform\nbill carried by the late Lord Derby, to the extension of the suffrage\nto all householders and a large proportion of lodgers, and to the\npassage of the Irish Church bill. During the premierships of Lord\nMelbourne and of Sir Robert Peel the questions of free-trade and\nthe abolition of the corn-laws absorbed public attention, and the\nCatholic topic was all but set aside. The paltry grant to Maynooth\nwas made a yearly subject of hot debate, and a few thousands per\nannum were grudgingly bestowed on an Irish college for the education\nof priests, while the Protestant establishment in that island\ncontinued to be the most richly endowed in the world in proportion to\nthe number of its members. The public mind, however, was attracted\nand agitated by a spectacle in which parliament was not concerned,\nand which in all the course of legislation in favor of Catholics\nhad never been contemplated. This was the extraordinary progress\nof Catholic ideas, doctrines, and practices in the University of\nOxford, and among the clergy of the establishment. The excitement\nwhich this produced had reached its height when, in February,\n1847, a bill intended to supplement the emancipation of 1829 was\nintroduced by Mr. Watson, Lord John Manners, and Mr. Escott. At\nthat time Lord John Russell was premier, with Grey, Palmerston,\nMacaulay, and Granville among his colleagues. They were little\ninclined to favor Catholicity, though in matters of politics they\nusually adopted a liberal line; and, considering that in 1829 there\nhad been 2521 petitions presented to the Lords against emancipation,\nand only 1014 in support of it--2013 to the Commons against it,\nand only 955 in its favor--considering that of 238 newspapers in\nthe United Kingdom in 1829, though 107 had been in its favor,\n87 had been against it and 4 neutral--it was not surprising that\nthe relief bill of Lord John Manners did not find as many strong\nsupporters as it deserved. The country was alarmed at the spread\nof \"popery,\" and the bill in question seemed designed to quicken\nits pace and widen its conquests. It would, if it had been carried,\nhave removed some remaining disabilities; but the loss of the bill\ndid not in reality affect in any very great degree the freedom of\nCatholics or the progress of their religion. The premier, Lord John\nRussell, in the same year--1847--when discussing the question of\nnational education, stated that, if a desire were entertained to\nhave schools for Catholics, and for such only, he would be in favor\nof it; but he reminded his hearers that \"of all the half-million\nwhich had been already spent under the direction of the treasury,\nand in accordance with the minutes of the council on education, not\none shilling was given in aid of the Roman Catholic schools;\" and\nin the issue Catholic children were excluded from all participation\nin the grant of \u00a3100,000 a year which formed part of the government\nscheme of education brought forward by the prime minister. This\nis enough to prove how lukewarm Lord John Russell was in his wish\nto promote education among Catholics; and it is enough, also, to\nlessen our surprise at that monstrous display of intolerance and bad\nstatesmanship with which he signalized his ministry in 1851.\n\nIt was two months after the close of the session in 1850, that\na papal rescript establishing a regular hierarchy in England,\nand parcelling out the country into dioceses, was published by\nthe Cardinal Archbishop of Westminster, and produced a commotion\naltogether disproportioned to the cause. The document was simple and\nordinary in its character, and if issued in reference to any other\ncountry but England, would probably have attracted no attention, and\ncertainly have excited no surprise, terror, indignation, and wrath.\nAmong the English it was received like the news of a French invasion.\nIt was denounced as a \"papal aggression,\" and the prime minister,\ninstead of allaying the storm, which he might easily have done,\nlashed the waves to fury by his letter to the Bishop of Durham. He\naffected to be taken by surprise, whereas the holy father had himself\nshown the brief to Lord Minto, Lord John Russell's father-in-law, who\nhad been residing in Rome in a diplomatic capacity. Lord Minto had\nraised no objection to the publication of the document, nor offered\nany suggestion as to the mode of procedure. It was Cardinal Wiseman,\ntherefore, and the Catholics of England and Ireland, who were taken\nby surprise when the premier, who had spent his life in promoting\n\"civil and religious liberty,\" suddenly effaced the inscription from\nhis banner, and stood forward as the most prominent assailant of\nCatholics in the kingdom. It was the more inconsistent and absurd\nin him to act thus, because the right of the Catholic bishops to\ndesignate themselves by the titles of their sees was recognized by\ncommon usage, by the servants of the government, and in one act, at\nleast, of parliament. Lord John's inflammatory letter to the Bishop\nof Durham was followed by a speech from the throne, couched in very\nhigh-flown and pompous language about the necessity of maintaining\nunimpaired the \"religious liberty\" which no one had sought to invade\nexcept the premier and his friends.\n\nThe queen's speech was followed in due time by a bill for preventing\nthe \"assumption of any title, not only from any diocese now existing,\nbut from any territory or place in any part of the United Kingdom,\nand to restrain parties from obtaining by virtue of such titles\nany control over trust property.\" Never was a more foolish measure\ncarried through parliament; firstly, because it made not the\nsmallest change in the existing state of things--it did not prevent\na single bishop from using on proper occasion the title of his\nsee, as conferred on him by papal authority; secondly, it was not\neven intended to be carried into effect. Lord John Russell and his\ncolleagues never dreamed of summoning bishop after bishop into court,\nand compelling them to pay the fine of \u00a3100 each, or go to prison.\nSuch a proceeding would have enlisted popular feeling immediately\non their side. All the wisest heads in parliament--men like Lord\nAberdeen, Sir James Graham, and Mr. Gladstone--warned the premier\nof the folly he was committing in pandering to the wishes of an\nilliberal and panic-stricken multitude.\n\nThe opposition offered to the measure by Lord Aberdeen and Mr.\nGladstone is all the more to our purpose because both these statesmen\nbecame at a late period prime ministers. Lord Aberdeen was one of\nthose whose minds had undergone a great change on many important\nsubjects, and there can be no doubt that he had yielded his to the\nplastic influence of Sir Robert Peel. Having taken part in the\nministry of the Duke of Wellington, he had, in 1829, contributed\nto the success of the emancipation bill; and when Peel was driven\nfrom office, after abolishing the corn-laws, by the resentment of\nthe protectionists, he had followed his master into retirement, and\ndeclined a place in the cabinet which was offered to him by Lord\nJohn Russell. It was not likely, therefore, that he would in 1851\nbetray the principles which he held sacred, and aid in swelling an\ninsensate cry. He saw clearly that the ecclesiastical titles bill had\nthe double defect of being persecutive if carried into operation, and\ncontemptible if passed only to lie dormant. He accordingly resisted\nit with all the more dignity because he knew that resistance was, for\nthe time being, fruitless.\n\nMr. Gladstone has not been consistent in his politico-religious\ncareer. In 1838, he appeared in print as the resolute champion of\n\"church and state,\" recommending the exclusion of all persons not\nof the Established Church from participation in the advantage of\nsubsidies granted for religious purposes. In 1839 and 1840, he\nopposed the admission of Jews into parliament, and the assistance\nafforded by the state to dissenters for the education of their\nchildren. He upheld that unjust establishment in Ireland which he has\nsince overthrown; and in 1845 he resigned his place in the cabinet in\norder that he might be perfectly free to vote as he pleased on the\ngrants to Maynooth and the endowment of Peel's colleges in Ireland.\nWhen out of office, he supported both these measures, and rendered\nhimself very obnoxious to many of his supporters at Oxford by the\ngrowing affection he manifested for liberal measures. The year 1847\nsaw him pleading for diplomatic relations with Rome, and complaining\nthat the government had not communicated with the holy see before\nestablishing the queen's colleges in Ireland. In accordance with\nthese generous and enlightened views, Mr. Gladstone saw with disgust\nthe intemperate conduct of the premier and the parliament in the case\nof the ecclesiastical titles bill. He contended that the influence\nof the Protestant church in England could never be maintained\nand extended by temporal enactments; that the papal rescript for\nassigning sees and titles to Roman Catholic bishops did not interfere\nin any way with the political rights of Englishmen; and ought not to\nbe made the occasion of a hostile, oppressive, and impotent act of\nparliament.\n\n     \"We, the opponents of the bill,\" he said, \"are a minority,\n     insignificant in point of numbers. We are more insignificant,\n     because we have no ordinary bond of union. What is it that binds\n     us together against you but the conviction that we have on our\n     side the principle of justice--the conviction that we shall soon\n     have on our side the course of public opinion?\"\n\nEvents have proved how completely his words were true. The\necclesiastical titles bill is now regarded with scorn, and treated\nwith ridicule. Earl Russell has confessed his mistake, and Catholics,\nwhom it was intended to humiliate, are quite indifferent to a\nprohibitory measure which was never meant to be enforced. The reform\nbill carried through both houses by Disraeli and Lord Derby made the\ndisestablishment of the Irish Church possible; the nation, freely\nrepresented, pronounced in its favor; and the measure was passed.\nA sense of justice, if not a feeling of repentance, has come over\nthe public mind; and a brief space of time has sufficed to dispel\nprejudices that were the growth of ages. Mr. Gladstone, as leader of\nthe liberal party, has been chiefly instrumental in producing this\nchange; but it would be unfair not to specify Mr. Bright as another\nmost powerful agent in bringing about the result. So long ago as\n1852, the former gentleman declared his opinion that if Mr. Spooner's\nannual motion against the Maynooth grant should ever succeed, and\n\"the endowment were withdrawn, the parliament which withdrew it must\nbe prepared to enter upon the whole subject of the reconstruction\nof the ecclesiastical arrangements in Ireland.\" These words were\nconsidered remarkable at the time, and appear even more so when\nviewed by the light of recent events. They plainly foreshadowed that\nsweeping measure which we have recently seen him triumphantly carry.\nThey pointed to a radical alteration in the existing unfair and\nanomalous relations between the church of the many and the church\nof the few in the sister isle. They left it, indeed, undecided\nwhether \"levelling up\" or \"levelling down\" should be tried; whether\nthe several churches, Roman, Anglican, and Presbyterian, should be\nall reduced to the voluntary systems, as in the United States, or\nwhether the Roman Catholic clergy should be raised by the state to\nequal privileges and emoluments with those enjoyed by the Protestant\npastors.\n\nIn the year 1868, it became manifest that the conservative and the\nliberal parties alike were agreed as to the necessity of doing\nsomething with the Irish Church. It also became apparent that the\nleading men in each party favored respectively the two plans just\nalluded to--the \"levelling up\" and the \"levelling down\" process.\nLord Derby, with his son Lord Stanley, Mr. Disraeli, and other\nconservatives, were inclined to make the Catholic clergy in Ireland\nstipendiaries of the state; but they did not boldly and honestly\npropose any such measure for the consideration of parliament.\nThe difficulties which faced them were greater than they could\nhope to overcome. The Catholic bishops of Ireland had distinctly\nrefused to close with any offer of stipend for the priests. They\nasked for impartial legislation, but not for pay. This difficulty\namounted almost to an impossibility; for of what avail was it to\nvote emoluments to those who would not accept them? But there was\nanother obstacle of almost equal magnitude, which consisted in the\nunwillingness of the English people to endow \"popery\" in any shape.\nOne half of the electors under the new reform bill were persons\nnot in communion with the Church of England; and these, together\nwith many Anglicans, approved the voluntary system in preference\nto national state churches of any kind. Lord Mayo, therefore,\nthe Secretary of State for Ireland, was studiedly ambiguous in\nsetting forth the intentions of the government in regard to Irish\necclesiastical matters. They were willing to establish and endow a\nCatholic university in Dublin, and to do something (no one could\ndiscover exactly what) in the way of \"levelling up.\" Mr. Gladstone\ninstantly exposed the absurdity of these crude and vague intimations.\nHe declared in the most emphatic manner that the Irish Church must\ncease to exist as an establishment, and it soon became apparent\nthat the liberal party were determined to aid him to the utmost in\naccomplishing his design. It was an extraordinary climax. The most\npopular man in the kingdom--a Protestant representing a Protestant\nconstituency, and the premier-to-be of a Protestant queen and a\nProtestant cabinet--was willing and eager, in the name of the people,\nto disestablish and disendow that church in Ireland which had for\nthree centuries been the pledge of Protestant ascendency and the main\nsupport of English and Protestant landlordism in that island.\n\nHis foremost opponents were the late Lord Derby and Disraeli, each of\nthem prime ministers at different periods. Their opposition was the\nless formidable because they were both men of mixed politics. Lord\nDerby had been by turns the friend and the foe of Catholic liberty\nand equality. He defended the Irish establishment against Joseph\nHume in 1824; but he supported, under the _r\u00e9gime_ of Earl Grey,\nthe cause of emancipation in 1832. He aided in relieving the Irish\nCatholics from the payment of tithes, and he helped to strike off the\nchains of the negro by presenting a bill for their liberation; but,\non the other hand, he resisted with all his might the appropriation\nclause in an Irish Church bill of 1834, and even quitted office\nbecause he would not give it his countenance. To sequestrate any part\nof the property of the Irish establishment and apply it to secular\npurposes was, in his eyes, to commit a sacrilege and to violate a\ncommon right. To this feeling he continued to adhere, and to the\nlast opposed the Irish Church bill intended to disestablish and\ndisendow the Protestant Church in Ireland. He intimated, however,\nto the peers who were of his party, that he did not think it their\nabsolute duty to oppose the bill as he had done. For the sake\nof consistency he voted against it, while not a few of them did\notherwise, seeing how many evils might arise from their resistance\nto the will of the Commons and the majority of the electors. Yet it\nwas he and Mr. Disraeli who made the passing of this bill possible\nand inevitable. It was the reform bill which they introduced, and\nwhich extended the suffrage to all householders and many lodgers,\nthat made the liberal party stronger, and the abolition of the Irish\nestablishment necessary. It is strange, indeed, that Lord Derby,\nwho offered so dogged a resistance to free-trade and the abolition\nof the corn-laws, who, with Lord George Bentinck and Mr. Disraeli,\nheaded the forces of the protectionists, should have been the means\nof developing the democratic element in the British constitution to\na degree previously unknown and unsought, even by the liberals.\nIt is strange, passing strange, that he should thus have brought\nabout indirectly the measures he most wished to avert; and the fact\nof his having so acted is sufficient to stamp him as a second-rate\nstatesman, and hardly worthy of a philosopher's name.\n\nIt would, we believe, be scarcely unjust to apply the same remark\nto Disraeli, notwithstanding his literary fame. He is too crotchety\never to be the great leader of a great party. What Willis said of him\nwas true: \"In a great crisis, with the nation in a tempest, Disraeli\nwould flash across the darkness very finely; but he will never do\nfor the calm right hand of a premier.\" His literary reputation\npreceded his political celebrity, and will outlast it. His mixed\npolitics--his dubious radical-toryism or tory-radicalism--like the\n_plus_ and _minus_ in an equation, cancelled each other, neutralized\nhis influence, and confounded his arguments by mutual disagreement.\nHe discarded triennial parliaments and vote by ballot, defected to\nthe Tories after coquetting with the radicals, and thus laid himself\nopen to O'Connell's keenest abuse. \"His life,\" the Liberator said,\n\"was a living lie. There were miscreants among the chosen people of\nGod, and it must certainly have been from one of these that Disraeli\ndescended. He possesses just the qualities of the impenitent thief\nwho died upon the cross, whose name, I verily believe, must have\nbeen Disraeli.\" Certain it is, that even the friends and admirers of\nMr. Disraeli repose in him little confidence. They never feel sure\nas to what he really is, or what he may become. He is an enigma and\na sphinx. He has often embraced principles to make himself a name,\nand he has often sustained them in spite of unpopularity. \"It is\nquite a mistake,\" he said on one occasion, \"to suppose I ever hated\nPeel. On the contrary, he is the only man under whom I should like\nto have served. But I saw very clearly he was the only man it would\n'make' me to attack, and I attacked him.\" Here is a key to Disraeli's\ncharacter. The only premier he would like to have served under was\none whose ruling principle was expediency; yet even this premier he\nwas willing to oppose in order to rise in the political and social\nscale. So he, at the head of \"Young England,\" denounced free trade in\ncorn, and applied the system of protection to the state religion. He\nwas, like Lord Derby, intensely opposed to the disestablishment and\ndisendowment of the Protestant Church in Ireland; but he was willing\nto endow Catholicity in Ireland to a certain extent, and thus make\nthe state to be, like himself, an assemblage of contradictions--a\nbuilder up at the same moment of Babylon and of Zion.\n\nAll roads, it is said, lead to Rome; and in like manner it may be\naffirmed that all English prime ministers since the revolution have\nled Rome-ward more or less. All have been employed in raising the\nvalleys and levelling the hills, that a straight path might be made\nfor the majestic march of the restored and ancient faith. Every thing\nhas told in favor of the _gens lucifuga_, the despised and persecuted\nCatholics, who shunned the light of day. If one and the other premier\nsought to oppress them anew, as Walpole did in his day, and Lord John\nRussell in our own, the unrighteous attempt recoiled sooner or later\non its promoters, and ample reparation was made in the long run by a\nsense of justice being awakened in the popular mind.\n\nThe prime ministers of England, be it remembered, have been in\nsome sense its kings--nay, more than kings. The real king has\noften been a cipher; the queen--as for example, Queen Caroline--has\nbeen above her lord; and the premier--as, for instance, Sir Robert\nWalpole--has controlled them both. And if this was the case in the\nlast century, much more is it so now. England is in fact a republic,\nthough nominally a monarchy. It is an aristocratic republic; and the\nprime minister being responsible to parliament, and representing for\nthe time being the voice of parliament and the popular will in the\ncouncil chamber of the sovereign, is himself the chief executive\nin the government, and holds in his hands more real power than\nany one besides in the kingdom. The monarch before whom he bows,\nand to whom he seems to defer, is in reality a puppet of which\nhe works the wires. King George IV. was as nothing compared to\nKing Wellington, and King William IV. was but a _middy_ under the\ncommand of Earl Grey. Queen Victoria at the present moment (and\nwe say it with sincere respect for that excellent and sovereign\nlady) is but a shadow to the substance Gladstone, and will be but\na shadow to any prime minister who may succeed him. It was not\nso entirely with her grandfather. He was really a king. He ruled\nhimself, and often very unwisely; but times have changed. Political\nand religious emancipation has conferred on Catholics an importance\nin the state which is altogether new, and conversions on a large\nscale during a quarter of a century have been a concurrent cause of\ntheir occupying a high and honorable position in society. No prime\nminister, therefore, can now ignore them, much less can he molest\nthem. In every session of parliament some obloquy cast on them in\nformer ages is removed. The lord chancellor of Ireland is now a\nCatholic, and very soon the lord lieutenant of Ireland may be so\ntoo. Every office of state, even the highest, will in all probability\nbe in a short time opened to the Catholics, and the unjust law\nwhich excludes them from the crown, and prohibits members of the\nroyal family from marrying them, will be swept away. If a Catholic\nwere to be made premier now, it would not be more surprising than\nit was that Wellington should emancipate Catholics in 1829 or that\nGladstone should demolish the Irish establishment in 1869. Providence\nhas wrought wonderfully in behalf of the church already in England,\nand what has been done should be taken by us as a pledge of what is\nyet to be. Meanwhile, it will be well to remember gratefully, where\ngratitude is due, the labors of Protestant prime ministers for the\nremoval of Catholic disabilities; and in order to do so adequately,\nwe must make every allowance for the prejudices in which they were\nbrought up, and the obstacles which lay so thickly in their path. We\nmust not deny them all merit because they have yielded to the force\nof circumstances, but believe that they probably would not thus\nhave yielded if there had not been in them some noble and virtuous\nimpulse, some personal attachment to truth and justice. The stronger\ntheir original repugnance to concession, the more deeply they felt\nconvinced in earlier years of the importance of maintaining intact\nthe Protestant constitution in church and state, the more credit\nassuredly is due to them for having broken the spell of their youth,\nadmitted that their ideas were erroneous, and faced a thousand\nreproaches and unmeasured obloquy in their determination to place the\nliberties of their fellow-subjects on a broader and better basis.\nThe day has arrived in England when the Protestant premier and the\nCatholic primate shake hands, not merely as private friends, but\nalso as representative men; and when they were seen not long ago in\nfamiliar intercourse at the foot of the steps of the throne in the\nHouse of Lords, they were for the moment living signs and symbols of\nthat vast and happy change which has come over the relations between\nthe English government and its Catholic subjects.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[187] W. B. MacCabe, _Memoir of O'Connell_. Madden's _Penal Laws_, p.\n255.\n\n[188] MacCabe, _Memoir of O'Connell_. _Tablet_, 29th May, 1847.\n\n[189] This anecdote was related to the writer by the Bishop of\nSouthwark.\n\n\n\n\nFROM THE SPANISH.\n\nLUCIFER'S EAR.\n\n\nFERNAN. Come, Uncle Romance, tell me one of your stories.\n\nUNCLE R. But, Se\u00f1or Don Fernan, if they are not worth the telling?\n\nFERNAN. Never mind; you must know that many people are pleased with\nAndalusian stories, and I am told that they write them.\n\nUNCLE R. Then what I tell your honor is going to be printed! It makes\nme laugh; for you see I thought that those high-flying folks who go\nto college liked nothing but Latinity. However, with the help of\nGod, I shall do as your worship commands, since those that give us\ngood-will aid us to live, and gratitude is a duty that none but the\nbase-born refuse to pay. I will go on telling; your worship will go\non writing it down, and leaving out mistakes, and shaving off the\nroughness of my way of saying things, till it sounds like print; and\nyour worship can write to those _you-sirs_, \"My journeyman and I made\nthis between us. If it is good, I did it; and my journeyman, if it is\nbad.\" Shall it be a story of enchantment?\n\nFERNAN. The first that occurs to you; if you invent it, all the\nbetter.\n\nUNCLE R. O se\u00f1or! I can't invent. Those inventions are flashes of the\nmind; mine is too dull, Don Fernan; but I'll tell you a story that\nI've known ever since I cut my teeth. I've lost them all now; so your\nworship can judge what date it must bear.\n\nFERNAN. The older the better. Stories are like wine, age improves\ntheir flavor.\n\nUNCLE R. Well then, se\u00f1or, there was once a rich tradesman who was\nfather to a very fine son. He brought him up like a king's child,\nand, besides the accomplishments of a gentleman, in which the boy\ncame to excel, had him taught in all branches as if he had meant to\nmake him doctor of every thing. The son grew to be a young man with a\nwill of his own; bearded and dashing; and for gallantry there was not\nanother like him.\n\nOne day he told his father that the place had become too narrow for\nhim; he could not content himself in it, and he wanted to go away.\n\n\"And where do you want to go?\" asked the father.\n\n\"To see the world,\" answered the young man.\n\n\"You are like the grasshopper that jumps he don't know where,\" said\nthe tradesman. \"How are you to get along in those strange countries\nwithout experience?\"\n\n\"Father, 'He that has knowledge may go where he will,'\" the son\nreplied; and as the old cock had allowed the young one to run so\nmuch to wings that he couldn't hold him, the youth took his arms, his\nhorse of noble stirp, and set out to see the world.\n\nWhen he had travelled three days through wilds and thickets, he came\nup with a man who was carrying a double cart-load--that is to say, a\nhundred and fifty arrobas of taramee upon his shoulders.\n\n\"Friend,\" said the young gentleman, \"you carry more than a church\nmule. What is your name?\"\n\n\"I am called Carry-much Carry-more, son of The Stout Carrier,\"\nanswered the man.\n\n\"Would you like to come with me?\"\n\n\"If your worship is as much for taking me as I am for going, yes.\"\n\nSo they went on together.\n\nAt the end of an hour they found a man who was blowing hard enough\nto burst his cheeks; sending forth more wind than the bellows of the\nforge of that _Bulcan_[190] who, they say, was a giant blacksmith, of\nthose you hear tell about.\n\n\"What are you doing here?\" asked the gentleman.\n\n\"Don't speak, your worship,\" said the man, \"for I mustn't leave off\nblowing. I have to keep forty-five mills a-going with my wind.\"\n\n\"And what is your name?\"\n\n\"Blow-hard Blow-harder, son of The Hard Blower,\" answered the man.\n\n\"Will you come with me?\"\n\n\"Indeed will I!\" said the man; \"for I'm ready to collapse with\nblowing, day in and day out, as many days as God has put into the\nworld.\"\n\nA little further on, they stumbled upon a man who was lying in wait,\nlistening.\n\n\"What are you doing here?\" asked the gentleman.\n\n\"I am waiting to hear a swarm of mosquitoes rise out of the sea.\"\n\n\"Why, man! if the sea is a hundred leagues off?\"\n\n\"And what of that, if I hear them?\"\n\n\"What is your name?\"\n\n\"Hear-all Hear-every-thing, son of The Good Hearer.\"\n\n\"Will you come with me?\"\n\n\"With all my heart, since your worship is so kind; the mosquitoes\nwill announce their approach presently.\"\n\nThe four went along in love and fellowship till they came in sight of\na castle so musty, lonesome, and cloaked with gloom that it appeared\nmore like sepulchre of the dead than habitation of the living. While\nthey were drawing nearer, the sky was growing each moment more\nthreatening, and, as they reached the castle, it burst into a torrent\nof rain; for size and sound, every drop might have been a cascabel.\n\n\"My master's worship needn't mind it,\" said Blow-hard; \"we'll soon\nsee what'll become of the storm.\" And he began to blow. The clouds,\nthunders, and lightnings scampered across those skies in such hurry\nand confusion that the sun stood squinting after them, and the moon\nstaring open-mouthed with astonishment.\n\nBut this was not the worst; for when they got to the castle, they\nfound that it had neither gate, nor door, nor postern, nor sign of an\nentrance.\n\n\"I told your worship well,\" said Hear-all, who had more fear than\nshame, \"that this ugly-faced castle was only for a nest of magpies,\nand refuge of owls.\"\n\n\"But I am tired, and I must rest,\" said the gentleman.\n\n\"Give yourself no uneasiness, your worship,\" said Carry-much; and\nhe immediately brought a big boulder, which he placed against the\nwall of the castle. They climbed up by this, and went in through the\nwindow. In the hall they found tables spread with the most famous\ndishes; all kinds of liquors, jugs of pure water, and bread of the\nfinest quality. When they had eaten till they could stuff no longer,\nthe gentleman wanted to explore the castle.\n\n\"Se\u00f1or,\" said Hear-all, \"if you meet somebody that asks, 'Where is\nthis ball rolling to?' One should not make free in another's house\nunless he is well posted.\"\n\n\"Who's afraid?\" said Carry-much. \"We are not going to do any thing\nwrong; and if one draws a straight furrow, nobody will follow him\nwith a plough.\"\n\n\"Let us get away from here, my master!\" cried Hear-all, whose flesh\nwas creeping with fear. \"This castle is not in the grace of God; for\nI tell your worship that I hear noises under ground that sound like\nlamentations.\"\n\nBut the gentleman paid Hear-all no attention. His servants followed\nhim, and they went on exploring those corridors and passages that\nwere more intricate than if a lawyer had built them, until they came\ninto a yard that was like an arena for bulls.\n\nThey had hardly set foot in it, when a serpent with seven heads,\neach one more fierce than the others, seven tongues like lances, and\nfourteen eyes like coals of fire, glided out to attack them.\n\nCarry-much, Blow-hard, and Hear-all, more scared than rats found out\nof the hole, ran as if they would run out of their trowsers; but the\ngentleman, who was as valiant as the Cid and as strong as a Bernardo,\ndrew his sword, and with four strokes, and four back-strokes, cut off\nthe creature's seven heads in less time than you could say _tilen_!\nThe biggest of the seven glared at the gentleman for an instant with\nits savage eyes that darted fire and blood, and then gave a bound\ninto the middle of the yard and disappeared through a hole which\nopened in the ground to receive it.\n\nAt the gentleman's call, the three who had fled came back, and were\nwell astonished at their master's bravery.\n\n\"Be it known to you,\" said the cavalier, who was looking, without\nseeing bottom, down the hole the serpent's head had gone into, \"that\nwe are going now to the fields to get hemp and palm-leaves to make\na line that will reach to the floor of this well.\" They did so; and\nthe four spent four years making rope. At the end of that time they\nfelt it touch bottom. The master then told Hear-all to slide down it\nand see what was below there, and come back and let him know. But\nHear-all stuck to his supports, as upright as a palm-tree in a gully\nthat no wind moves, and said that he'd be smashed first and go down\nin pieces.\n\nThen the master told Blow-hard to go. Blow-hard took fast hold of\nthe rope, and descended night and day till he got to the bottom,\nwhere he found himself in a palace like the famous ones you read of,\nand in the presence of the Princess of Naples, who was lying on a\nbed with her face downward, weeping tears as big as chick-peas. She\ntold him that Lucifer had fallen in love with her, and would keep\nher enchanted there until one willing and able to fight and vanquish\nhim should present himself. 'Here is one already who is going to\nundertake the enterprise,' said Blow-hard, and he drew in a long\nbreath, which was scarcely drawn when Lucifer appeared in person. The\nsight of him frightened Blow-hard so that he ran and climbed to the\ntop of a door. Lucifer unhinged the door with one thwack of his big\ntail, and it fell to the ground with Blow-hard, and broke one of his\nlegs.\n\nWe will leave him with his bitter cud, and go back to the gentleman,\nwho, tired of waiting for Blow-hard to come up, asked Hear-all what\nwas going on down there in the bowels of the earth. Hear-all told him\nwhat had passed, and that now he could hear Blow-hard complaining of\na broken leg. Then the gentleman sent Carry-much, who assured him\nthat he would shoulder Lucifer and bring him up, if he weighed more\nthan all the lead of the Sierra Almagrera. But, step by step, it\nhappened to Carry-much just as it had to Blow-hard, except that he\ngot an arm broken instead of a leg.\n\n\"I will go down myself,\" said the gentleman, when Hear-all related to\nhim what had taken place.\n\nWhen he reached the palace and saw the Princess of Naples, he fell\ninto such love with her wonderful beauty that he prepared himself for\nthe encounter with a double ration of valor.\n\nChristians! such a fight as there was then between the good cavalier\nand the cursed dog of a Lucifer the world has never seen; as,\nnaturally, it would not see, since Lucifer never comes to fight above\nhere in his own form. But the gentleman crossed himself, and, as\nevery man must who commends his cause to God, vanquished the devil.\nHe did more; for he cut off one of his ears.\n\nThe state Lucifer would be in at seeing his ear in the hands of a\nChristian, I leave to your consideration. His yells had such an\neffect upon Hear-all that he repeated every jerk and spring. You\nwould have said that he was being repeatedly stung by a tarantula.\n\n\"Give me my ear!\" shouted Lucifer in the voice of a trumpet.\n\n\"You will give me a good ransom if you get it,\" answered the\ncavalier; \"for I have taken it like a true knight in fair combat;\ntherefore, I shall make three conditions with which you must comply.\"\n\n\"Insolent braggart!\" said Lucifer.\n\n\"Oh! you may spit out the gall; but I warn you that I am going to\npickle your ear and show it for money,\" replied the cavalier.\n\nLucifer danced with rage.\n\n\"What are your conditions, low-born, ill-bred, and worse-thriven?\" he\ndemanded.\n\n\"The first is, that you instantly return this princess to her own\nkingdom and palace,\" said the cavalier.\n\nThere was nothing for it but to comply; so Lucifer placed the\nprincess in her royal palace, and then said to the cavalier, \"Give me\nmy ear.\"\n\n\"No,\" replied the cavalier; \"you must first transport me, with my\nthree servants and such a kingly suite as becomes your vanquisher, to\nthe court of Naples, and into a suitable lodging, which you will have\nprepared for me.\"\n\n\"It does not suit me, little bully, to have you diverting yourself,\nand triumphing at my expense.\"\n\n\"Very well. I will publish, with the sound of a clarion, that you\nhave lost an ear. We shall see then if you can disguise yourself as\na notary, lawyer, agent, money-lender, or lover, without being found\nout in less than no time.\"\n\n\"Now,\" whimpered Lucifer, after he had placed the cavalier in Naples,\nwith great riches and an immense retinue, \"give me my ear.\"\n\n\"I have it here,\" said the cavalier, \"and I don't want it, for it\nsmells of sulphur; but you have yet to fulfil the third condition.\"\n\n\"What is it, impudent upstart?\"\n\n\"I am not quite ready to tell it. In the mean time, have patience,\nwhich, if it will not serve you to gain heaven, will be of use to you\nin getting back your ear.\"\n\nLucifer changed from poison to the essence of venom. \"You are seven\ntimes worse than I,\" said he to his vanquisher. \"By the soul of\nNapoleon! there is more knavery on earth than in hell. But you\nshall remember me! By my horns and tail, I swear it!\" And off he\nwent, pulling at his remaining ear for vexation at finding himself\noutwitted by a Christian.\n\nWell, when the princess saw the cavalier so finely gotten up,\nand with such a splendid following, she recognized him, and told\nher father that he was her saviour! and that she wished to marry\nhim. They were married; _and I was there, and saw, and came away,\nand nothing was said to me; for I slipped in and out without\nbeing seen_;[191] mindful of the saying, \"Neither to wedding nor\nchristening go unbidden.\"\n\nBut, se\u00f1or, you must know that, after the wedding-bread was eaten,\nthe princess and the cavalier led a cat-and-dog's life together; for\nthe woman's temper and manners had become so bad and intolerable\nwhile she remained under the power of Lucifer that no one else could\nabide them. So, when the devil appeared to beg for his ear, the\ncavalier said to him,\n\n\"I am going to give it to you; but you must comply with the last\ncondition I impose for its ransom.\"\n\n\"Knave! Mountebank! You would damn me if I were not damned already!\nAnd what is this last condition?\"\n\n\"That you take my wife again,\" responded the cavalier; \"for you are\nlike for like, Peter for John.\"\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[190] Vulcan.\n\n[191] Manner of ending a tale.\n\n\n\n\nTHE VATICAN COUNCIL.\n\nNUMBER TWO.\n\n\nWe intimated in our last number our intention of presenting each\nmonth to the readers of THE CATHOLIC WORLD an article on the\nprogress, and, so far as we could, on the proceedings of the Vatican\nCouncil, now in session. We shall endeavor, in so doing, to state\nfacts, the accuracy of which we can guarantee. Misstatements, silly,\nabsurd, and not unfrequently mischievous, are sent by \"our own\ncorrespondents,\" to fill the columns of hostile newspapers; and they\nmay sometimes disturb the minds and sadden the hearts of the unwary.\nWe wish to give such an account as shall correct such errors and\nmisstatements, by an accurate and impartial statement of the truth.\nOur form of a monthly publication may subject us to some delay,\nand to the disadvantage of saying much which our readers will have\nalready seen in the daily and weekly press. But on the other hand, it\nwill secure for us fuller and more accurate knowledge of our subject\nthan could be obtained at an earlier period, and may enable us,\nperhaps, to form a more mature judgment on many points. Our aim is to\ngive a series of articles, which our readers may preserve and refer\nto hereafter. In writing them, we are guided by information derived\nfrom the best sources.\n\nThe amount and the variety of misstatements and of mistakes about the\ncouncil and its doings, that have fallen even under our own eyes,\nwould seem incredible. The talent of fiction seems to have attained a\ntruly marvellous development. We tried to classify them. There were\nfictions to blame, and fictions to praise, fictions droll, fictions\nmalicious, fictions stupid, fictions about persons, fictions about\nthings, fictions about words, fictions about the past, fictions about\nthe present, fictions in the shape of conjectures of the future,\nfictions gay and witty, fictions solemn and dull, fictions pious, and\nfictions blasphemous.\n\nBut then even this stream of incorrect statements, the result of\nimagination striving to eke out a scanty knowledge of facts, or of\nprejudice looking at every thing through a distorted medium, is\npoured forth to satisfy, if it can, the cravings of the public, and\nis an additional evidence of the intense and universal interest the\nCouncil of the Vatican has excited. Men may misrepresent it, they may\nhate it, or fear it. They cannot despise it. It seems they cannot be\nsilent about it.\n\nThe time has not yet come to speak of the results of the\ndeliberations of this venerable body. Perhaps it is well that it\nis so. As yet, our minds are still dazzled and preoccupied by the\noutward splendor and the striking external aspects of the council.\nEverywhere in Rome, you hear men commenting on these points, and\ncomparing the present oecumenical council with those which the church\nhas celebrated in the past centuries of her existence.\n\nBut once before in her history were so many bishops gathered\ntogether. In the second Lateran Council, assembled by Pope Innocent\nIII., in 1139, about one thousand bishops united. The next largest\nnumber was at Chalcedon in 451, where six hundred and thirty bishops\nassembled; and next to that came the second Council of Lyons in 1274,\nunder Gregory X., at which five hundred were present. Of the other\ncouncils, one had over four hundred bishops, five over three hundred,\nand the others all fell below that number.\n\nSince the day of the opening not a few additional bishops have\narrived, and the total number now taking part in the present council\ncannot fall below seven hundred and fifty. The Vatican Council\nstands, therefore, by a mere count of numbers second on the list.\nBut, as a representation of the entire world, it far exceeds all that\nhave preceded it.\n\nThe remarkable punctuality with which the council was opened is a\nsubject of surprise and gratification, and may well be looked on as\na signal evidence of the protection of divine providence. It has not\nalways happened that councils could meet at the time and the place\nfirst indicated in the bull for their convocation. Sometimes only a\ncomparatively small number of bishops could assemble; and weeks and\nmonths, and perhaps a year would pass by, before such a number could\ngather together as to render the opening of the council advisable.\nThe difficulties of journeying were great. Oftentimes political\njealousies, and the wars of nations, interfered to delay and\nembarrass, if they could not altogether thwart, the meeting, as well\nas the action of the council. Something of this kind was anticipated\nby many in the present instance. When, in 1867, Pius IX., in his\naddress to the assembled bishops, stated his purpose of holding a\nsacred oecumenical council of the bishops of the whole world, in\norder that, with their united counsels and labors, necessary and\nsalutary remedies might, by God's help, be applied to the many evils\nunder which the church suffers, the heart of the Catholic world\nthrilled with delight. But among infidels and non-Catholics, and even\nlukewarm Catholics, or those of little faith, there was many a jest\nand many a sneer. Many a paper assured its readers that the council\nwould not, could not assemble; and some, who thought themselves well\ninformed, declared that before the day for opening it would arrive,\nGaribaldi would be in Rome, and Pius IX. a wanderer and a fugitive,\nfar from the Vatican. Plans were even then being laid to bring this\nabout; and, ere many months rolled by, a well-prepared and vigorous\nattempt was made to carry them into effect. The attempt signally\nfailed. The battle of Mentana forbade its renewal in that shape for\nsome time to come; and the storm, at one moment so threatening,\npassed by. The council was called, and the place and the day of\nits meeting appointed. What Garibaldi and his party had failed\nto effect by arms, diplomacy now attempted in another guise. The\nchief minister of a so-called Catholic power professed to entertain\ngreat apprehensions of the possible results of the council, and\nsent a secret circular to the courts of the other Catholic nations\nof Europe, urging the expediency of united action in such shape\nas might control the decisions of the council. Had the plan been\nadopted, and the spirit in which it was conceived been carried\nout in the details, the result would probably have been what the\noriginators intended, and what indeed some of their papers announced\nto the world as already determined on. The council would have been\npostponed, perhaps would not have met at all. But this plan failed\ntoo. The circular was received coldly, and the proposal fell to the\nground. Under the guiding hand of Providence, all was peaceful. The\nbishops (save those under the Czar of Russia) were free to travel\nin peace; and they came at the voice of the chief pastor. From the\nvolcanic and coral islands of the Pacific, from Hudson's Bay and\nLabrador and Canada, from Brazil, La Plata, and Chili, from the\ngolden shores of California, from rugged New England and the fertile\nvalley of the Mississippi, from mysterious Egypt, and the classic\nisles of Greece, from the sacred hills and cities of Palestine and\nSyria, from the stricken remnants of Assyria and Media, from Persia,\nIndia, Burmah, Siam, and China, bishops were journeying toward the\ncentral city of the Catholic world. The antipodal Australia and New\nZealand sent still others. From every country of Europe, Hungary,\nBohemia, Illyria, Austria. Prussia, Bavaria, and W\u00fcrtemberg, France,\nSpain, and Portugal, England, Holland, Belgium, Scotland, and\nIreland, the Island of Saints, they came, not merely a few delegates,\nbut it seemed the entire episcopal body _en masse_. Distance and\ndifficulties of the journey were no obstacles; even old age and\ninfirmities seemed to have lost the power of retaining these prelates\nat home. Among the arrivals in Rome over a score had passed eighty\nyears of age, and one, not the least vigorous among them, had reached\nthe mature age of ninety-five. And so it came to pass, under the\nblessing of Heaven, that in this nineteenth century, in which even\nthat profound statesman and excellent Catholic, Count De Maistre,\nonce said it would be simply impossible to convene a general council\nof the church, all difficulties have vanished, and without one hour's\ndelay or postponement, the Vatican Council, exceeding all others save\none in its number of prelates, and far surpassing that one in its\nintrinsic grandeur, was opened in the majestic Basilica of St. Peter,\non the day and the hour originally appointed. We may trust that the\nblessing of Heaven will continue with it, and that its results will\nbe commensurate with the prayers and hopes of the Catholic world, in\npromoting the glory of God, in establishing the kingdom of Christ our\nLord on earth, and in leading men to Christian holiness and eternal\nlife.\n\nIn our former article we gave an account of the grand spectacle\npresented at the opening session. In the present one, we will speak\nof the general congregations, or committees of the whole, as we would\nterm them, in which most of the work is to be done. The curious\nobserver will find here many of those old rules and forms from which\nthe modern and civilized world has derived our existing codes of\nparliamentary rules. It is interesting to observe the points of\nagreement and of disagreement. For of later years, in our mundane\nparliaments, the strife of party spirit, and sometimes the necessity\nof settling a question by a given time, have brought in various\ndevices unknown in those older and quieter assemblies for the purpose\nof shutting off debate, or overcoming the reluctance of a minority\nfor a speedy vote.\n\nAn oecumenical council is, under one point of view, a deliberative\nassembly of the entire Catholic Church. The sovereign pontiff, who,\nas successor of St. Peter, the head of the apostolic college in the\nsee of Rome, is head of the Catholic Church and the centre of unity,\npresides _ex-officio_. As his right and his power were not bestowed\non him by the church, but were instituted by her Divine Founder as\nan essential part of her organization, it follows that they do not\ncease, or suffer suspension, on occasion of, or during the holding of\na council.\n\nHis office in reference to councils has been recognized from the\nbeginning. A Council of Alexandria, in their letter to Pope Felix\nII., in the year 362, wrote: \"We know that in the great Council of\nNice all the bishops unanimously declared that councils should not\nbe held save with the judgment of the Roman pontiff,\" and Julius\nI., in his first letter to the eastern churches, appealed to the\nancient laws of the church, which forbade \"the holding of councils\nwithout the knowledge and assent of the Roman pontiff, because the\nHoly Roman Church held the primacy over all the churches.\" In the\nfirst place, then, an oecumenical council must be _summoned_ by the\nauthority of the pope. In the second place, he _presides_ in the\ncouncil _ex-officio_, either personally or by such legates as he may\nsend. The First Council of Nice in Bithynia was held in 325. Three\nhundred and eighteen bishops were present, all of them (save half a\ndozen) patriarchs, archbishops, and bishops from the east. Osius,\na bishop of Spain, and two priests from Rome, presided in the name\nof Pope Sylvester. Meletius of Antioch, and afterward St. Gregory\nof Nazianzum, presided in the name of Pope Damasus in the First\nCouncil of Constantinople, in 381. St. Cyril of Alexandria presided\nat the Council of Ephesus in 431, in the name of Pope St. Celestine\nI. St. Leo the Great sent two bishops, Pascasinus and Lucentius,\nand two priests, Boniface and Basil, who conjointly represented\nhim, and presided over the Fourth General Council at Chalcedon, in\nthe year 451. The same right has been exercised in every succeeding\noecumenical council. Nor could it be otherwise. The body cannot be\nseparated from the head without destroying the life of the church.\nThe gates of hell would then have assuredly prevailed over her.\n\nA third right and office of the sovereign pontiff in relation to\noecumenical councils is that of _confirming_ and giving force to\ntheir decrees. His is the supreme duty and charge of confirming\nhis brethren in the faith. Pope St. Damasus expressed the Catholic\ndoctrine and practice on this head fifteen hundred years ago, when\nhe wrote to the bishops of an African council, \"You well know, that\nto hold councils without the authority and approval of the Roman see\nis not according to the Catholic spirit; nor do we meet any councils\nthat are held as legitimate which were not supported by its apostolic\nconfirmation.\" The words of Pope Damasus were then specially\nsignificant and emphatic. Not a quarter of a century before, in 363,\nsix hundred bishops had assembled at Rimini, and, under pressure\nfrom the Emperor Constantius, had passed decrees which Pope Liberius\nreprobated. At once, and ever since, that Council of Rimini has been\nheld as utterly destitute of authority.\n\nAn oecumenical council, therefore, to be truly such, must be convoked\nby the sovereign pontiff, or by his authority, must be presided over\nby him, either in person or by his legates, and its acts must be\nconfirmed and sanctioned by him.\n\nTo say he has the duty of judging when the necessities or dangers of\nthe church render it proper to summon a general council, in order to\nmeet or to remedy them, implies obviously that he will propose to the\ncouncil the matters on which he calls for their judgment and their\nco\u00f6peration with him. As president _ex-officio_, it is his duty to\nmake such arrangements in accordance with the spirit of religion, and\nthe usages of former councils, as will facilitate and expedite the\naction of the council, and allow the bishops to return as quickly as\npossible to their flocks.\n\nIn the present instance, the sovereign pontiff has done this chiefly\nby the brief, _Multiplices inter_, and by the labors of the five\npreparatory commissions, which have for nearly a year and a half been\nstudying up the subjects which are to form a portion of the matter to\nbe discussed and decided on by the council.\n\nWe have already spoken of this apostolic letter, _Multiplices inter_.\nIt was dated November 27th, and having been printed in pamphlet form,\nwas delivered to the bishops on December 2d, nearly a week before\nthe opening of the council. There are ten chapters in it, several of\nwhich set forth the mode of procedure which will be followed in the\ncouncil in the transaction of business.\n\nChapter ii. is as follows:\n\n     \"Although the right and duty of proposing the matters to be\n     treated in the Holy Oecumenical Council, and of asking the\n     judgments of the fathers on them, belongs only to us and this\n     apostolic see, yet we not only desire, but we exhort, that if\n     any among the fathers of the council have any thing to propose\n     which they believe will tend to the general benefit, they shall\n     freely propose it. However, as we clearly perceive that this,\n     unless it be done in proper time and mode, may seriously disturb\n     the necessary order of the business of the council, we direct\n     that such proposals be offered in this mode, to wit: 1. Each one\n     must be put in writing, and be directly delivered to a special\n     congregation (committee) composed of several cardinals and fathers\n     of the council, to be appointed by us. 2. It must regard the\n     general welfare of the church, not the special benefit of only\n     this or that diocese. 3. It must set forth the reasons for which\n     it is held useful and opportune. 4. It must not run counter to the\n     constant belief of the church, and her inviolable traditions. The\n     said special congregation shall diligently weigh the propositions\n     delivered to it, and shall report to us their recommendation as to\n     the admission or exclusion of them, in order that, after mature\n     deliberation, we may decide whether or not they shall be placed\n     before the council for discussion.\"\n\nWe may say here that this special committee has been appointed,\nand is composed of twelve cardinals and fourteen prelates. Of the\ncardinals five are usually resident in Rome, three are from sees in\nItaly, one is French, one Spanish, one German, and one (Cardinal\nCullen) from Ireland. Of the prelates, two are patriarchs from the\nEast, one is French, two Spanish, four Italians, one South American,\none (Archbishop Spalding) from the United States, one Mexican, one\nEnglish, one Belgian, and one German. This committee is thus an\nadmirable synopsis, as it were, of the entire council. Their duties\nmay hereafter be delicate and responsible. So far, we believe, they\nhave not been called on to act.\n\nChapters v. and vii. of the same apostolic letter set forth that, for\nthe rapid furthering of business, there shall be six other standing\ncommittees, the members of all of which shall be elected by ballot,\nin the council: 1. On excuses for non-attendance, or for leave of\nabsence, to consist of five members. 2. On grievances and complaints,\nlikewise to consist of five members. 3. On matters of faith, to\nconsist of twenty-four members. 4. On matters of discipline, with\ntwenty-four members. 5. One on regular orders, with twenty-four\nmembers; and 6. One on oriental rites and on missions, to consist of\ntwenty-four members. These last four committees, or _deputations_,\nas they are termed, will be presided over each by a cardinal, to be\nappointed by the pope.\n\nChapter vi. appoints the officers and attendants required in\nthe council. Prince John Colonna and Prince Dominic Orsini are\nsergeants-at-arms. What a change from the days, seven centuries\nago, when their ancestors would meet only as rivals at court, or\nantagonists in the field! The Rt. Rev. Joseph Fessler, of Germany,\nis named secretary of the council, with an under secretary and\ntwo assistants. Seven notaries are named, and eight scrutatores or\ntellers, for receiving and counting the votes. Among these last is\nMonsignor Nardi, well known to the foreign visitors to Rome. The\npromotors, masters of ceremony, and ushers are also named in this\nchapter.\n\nFinally, the sovereign pontiff, who would preside in person only in\nthe solemn sessions, designated five cardinals who, in his name and\nby his authority, would preside in the general congregations. They\nwere Cardinals De Reisach, De Luca, Bizzarri, Bilio, and Capalti.\n\nThe apostolic letter also set forth how the several committees of\ntheologians had prepared _schemata_, or draughts, as we would term\nthem, on various points belonging to the general purposes of the\ncouncil. The Holy Father declared that he had abstained from giving\nto these draughts any sanction of approval. They would be placed\nin the hands of the bishops for their serious study and for their\ndiscussion, (_integra integre_,) freely, and as to every part.\n\nThese arrangements were held to be sufficient at least in the\ncommencement. Should it appear during the progress of the council\nthat additional measures are necessary, it is obvious that they can,\nat any time, easily be provided by the fathers.\n\nIn our account of the grand ceremonial of opening the council, we\nstated that the second decree appointed a second solemn session to be\nheld on the festival of the Epiphany, January 6th. The bishops were\nalso informed that the first general congregation would be held on\nFriday, December 10th, at nine A.M.\n\nOn that morning, by half-past eight, thousands were waiting in the\ngrand nave of St. Peter's, to see the bishops as they arrived and\npassed up its length, to reach the council hall, in the transept,\nto the right of the main altar. Hundreds remained to see them come\nout at the conclusion of the meeting. On each of the ten times since\nthen that the bishops have met in general congregation, there was\nthe crowd of Romans and of strangers. In truth, under some respects,\nthis occasion seems almost as interesting as a public session. The\nbishops come, not in procession, but singly, or in groups of two,\nthree, or four, as they may chance to arrive at the door of St.\nPeter's. They are robed not in cope and mitre, but simply in rochet\nand mantelletta, and as they gravely walk up the nave, you have a\nfull opportunity to scan their features and study their bearing,\ntheir size, and to read the thousand and one indications of character\nby which, whether correctly or incorrectly, men will ever form some\njudgment of those they look on. Most of them bear in their hands\nportfolios for writing, and large quarto pamphlets which have been\ndistributed to them. They look as if they had been studying, and were\nstill preoccupied with matters of importance.\n\nThey enter the door of the council hall, and each one passes to his\nnumbered seat. Some open their pamphlets, some are writing, some\nare conversing in whispers. At nine A.M. the main door is closed.\nWhoever comes late must enter by a side door. Mass of the Holy\nGhost is celebrated by some one of the prelates, without music.\nAt its conclusion, the presiding cardinals take their places. All\nkneel while the chief cardinal reads the prayers prescribed for\nthe occasion. When he concludes, all rise, are seated, and the\ncongregation is opened.\n\nOn December 10th, only four of the presiding cardinals were in\ntheir places. The chief one, Cardinal De Reisach, was absent in\nSwitzerland, whither he had gone for his health. He has since died\nthere. Born in Bavaria, in 1806, of a noble family, his rank, his\ntalents, and his personal accomplishments, and the prospect of a\nbrilliant career before him, gathered around him a circle of admirers\nand hopeful friends, as, at the age of twenty, he took his place in\nthe court of King Louis. Pure and delicate as a girl, loving piety,\nand dreading the seductions of the world, he soon gave up all the\nworld offered, and withdrew to devote himself to the sanctuary.\nHe came to Rome, to pursue his theological studies in the German\nCollege, graduated with honors, was ordained priest, and soon after,\nwhen not thirty years of age, was appointed rector of the celebrated\nCollege of the Propaganda. His memory is dear to all those students,\nnow scattered through the world, who had the happiness of being under\nhis paternal care. In 1836, he was consecrated Bishop of Eichstadt,\nin his native land, and afterward was made Archbishop of Munich. In\nboth these offices he displayed that zeal, and wisdom, and firmness,\nunited with kindest charity, of which his earlier years had given\nsuch promise. He was finally made cardinal, and resigning the\narchbishopric of Munich, came several years ago to reside again in\nRome. For some time past his health was impaired. He was president\nof one of the preparatory committees of theologians and canonists\nfor the council, and it is thought that his excessive labors as such\ncontributed not a little to break his health down. In September he\nleft Rome, never to return. In his death, the Vatican Council has\nlost one who would have been a most able presiding cardinal.\n\nOn December 10th, Cardinal De Luca, the next in rank, took his\nplace, and made a brief and eloquent address to the fathers. It was\nof course in Latin, the language of the council. The bishops voted\nby ballot, first, for the five members of the committee on excuses,\nand then, a second time, for the five members of the committee on\ncomplaints. As the fathers voting were over seven hundred, as each\none voted for ten persons, and as the voting was very scattering, it\nwas obvious that the ballots could not be counted then and there.\nThey were therefore placed in boxes, which were publicly sealed; and\na committee, consisting of the senior patriarch, the senior primate,\nthe senior archbishop, the senior bishop, and the senior mitred\nabbot, was appointed to superintend the counting of these votes the\nnext day, and to superintend the counting hereafter the votes to be\ncast in the coming elections. The ushers then delivered to each of\nthe bishops a copy of the first draught, or _schema_, on doctrinal\nmatters. The concluding prayer was said, and the meeting adjourned.\n\nThe prelates elected on the committee of excuses were, Melchers,\nArchbishop of Cologne; Monzon y Martins, Archbishop of Granada;\nLimberti, Archbishop of Florence; Landriot, Archbishop of Rheims; and\nPedicini, Archbishop of Bari.\n\nThose elected on the committee of complaints were, Angelini,\nArchbishop of Corinth; Mermillod, Bishop of Geneva; Sannibale, Bishop\nof Gubbio; Rosati, Bishop of Todi; and Canzi, Bishop of Cyrene.\n\nOn the 14th of December, a second general congregation was held.\nAfter the celebration of mass and the opening prayers, two documents\nwere distributed to the bishops. The first had special reference\nto the council. It was a \"constitution\" on the election of the\nRoman pontiff, should the apostolic see become vacant during the\noecumenical council. Referring to the long-established laws of\nthe church as to such a case, the decrees of several sovereign\npontiffs in times past, and the clear precedents in the history\nof several general councils, the Holy Father now anew decrees and\nordains \"that if it please God to put an end to our mortal course\nduring the General Council of the Vatican, whatever may be the\nposition of the council and the state of the business on which it\nis engaged, the election of the new sovereign pontiff must be made\nby the cardinals alone, the council having no share therein.\" And\nhe further decrees and ordains that \"if our death occur during the\nsaid Vatican Council, this council, in whatever state it may be,\nand whatever be the position of the works on which it is engaged,\nis forthwith and immediately to be deemed suspended and adjourned.\nThe council must therefore at once abstain from holding any meeting,\ncongregation, or session; it must not make any decree or canon, nor\ntake any proceeding, until such time as the new pontiff, having been\ncanonically elected by the sacred college of cardinals, judges right,\nin virtue of his supreme authority, to ordain that the council be\nresumed and continued.\"\n\nA cloud of sadness, we are told, seemed to fall on the assembly of\nprelates as they read this rehearsal and re\u00ebnactment of the law of\nthe church for the case contemplated--a case by no means impossible;\nfor Pius IX. has reached the ripe old age of fourscore, and in his\npontificate is fast approaching \"the years of Peter.\" They thought,\ndoubtless, of their distant homes and their flocks, so dear to their\nhearts; they thought of the council they were just entering on, and\nremembered how often other councils had lasted years. Yet from many\na heart a prayer went up that not by his death should this council\ncease; many a lip spoke the words, _Vivat, diu vivat Pius Nonus_.\nWere it not for the sanctity of the place, and the graveness of the\nassembly, the low spoken words would have been loud acclamations\nringing through St. Peter's.\n\nThe second paper did not directly refer to the council, and we would\nnot speak of it here had it not been made the subject of so many\nremarks and so much misrepresentation in many secular papers. It was\na bull revoking and annulling many of the censures and penalties\nenacted in times past by the canon law against various offences.\n\nA little thought will make the matter clear. The church has power,\nand has always exercised it, to inflict her censures and penalties\non grievous offenders. Such penalties, intended to deter from evil,\nand to procure, if possible, the amendment of the offender, must be\nprudently adapted to the circumstances of time and place. Many things\nmust be taken into consideration. Hence, it will happen that what is\nbeneficial at one time is hurtful at another. What in one age, or in\none condition of a country, would repress the evil, may in another\nage, or under different circumstances, be found to aggravate it.\n\nHence, in the body of canon law, commenced as it was eleven centuries\nago, and embracing, in fact, many laws of a far more ancient date, it\nis not surprising to find many laws which, however wise at the time\nof their enactment, are no longer applicable with prudence, and which\nthe church has centuries ago let fall into desuetude and oblivion.\nThere are other laws concerning which this action may even now be\ngoing on. In some countries it may be more advanced than in others.\nTo some minds it may be clearer than to others. Hence, for some time\npast, and especially on occasion of the council, representations have\nbeen made in Rome on the subject. The sovereign pontiff, after mature\nconsideration, and taking advice of his counsellors, has by this bull\nwithdrawn and repealed all the censures and ecclesiastical penalties\nat any time in ages past enacted by his predecessors, excepting those\nof which he gives a special and definite list in the bull. These he\nleaves as they were; all others he abrogates.\n\nAt this second congregation a ballot was taken for the members of the\ncommittee or deputation on matters of faith. Each prelate voted for\ntwenty-four persons. There were seven hundred and twenty-one votes\ncast. They were sealed up as before, in the presence of the council,\nand were afterward counted. The result was as follows:\n\n     1. Most Rev. Emmanuel Garcia Gil, Archbishop of Saragossa, Spain.\n\n     2. Rt. Rev. Louis Francis Pi\u00e9, Bishop of Poitiers, France.\n\n     3. Most Rev. Patrick Leahy, Archbishop of Cashel, Ireland.\n\n     4. Most Rev. R\u00e9n\u00e9 Fr. Regnier, Archbishop of Cambrai, France.\n\n     5. Most Rev. John Simor, Archbishop of Gran, Hungary.\n\n     6. Most Rev. Ignatius Andrew Schaepman, Archbishop of Utrecht,\n     Holland.\n\n     7. Most Rev. Antonius Hassun, Armenian Patriarch.\n\n     8. Rt. Rev. Bartholomew D'Avanzo, Bishop of Calvi.\n\n     9. Most Rev. Miecislaus Ledochowski, Archbishop of Gnesen and\n     Posen.\n\n     10. Most Rev. Francis Cugini, Archbishop of Modena, Italy.\n\n     11. Rt. Rev. S. D. Larangeira, Bishop of Rio Grande, Brazil.\n\n     12. Rt. Rev. Ignatius Senestry, Bishop of Ratisbon, Bavaria.\n\n     13. Most Rev. Victor A. Dechamps, Archbishop of Malines, Belgium.\n\n     14. Most Rev. Martin J. Spalding, Archbishop of Baltimore, United\n     States.\n\n     15. Rt. Rev. Anthony Monescillo, Bishop of Jaen, Spain.\n\n     16. Rt. Rev. Peter J. De Preux, Bishop of Sion, Switzerland.\n\n     17. Rt. Rev. Vincent Gasser, Bishop of Brixen, Tyrol.\n\n     18. Most Rev. Raphael V. Valdivieso, Archbishop of Santiago, Chili.\n\n     19. Most Rev. Henry Edward Manning, Archbishop of Westminster,\n     England.\n\n     20. Rt. Rev. Fred. M. Zinelli, Bishop of Treviso, Lombardy.\n\n     22. Most Rev. Walter Steins, Archbishop of Calcutta.\n\n     23. Rt. Rev. Conrad Martin, Bishop of Paderborn, Prussia.\n\n     24. Most Rev. Joseph S. Allemany, Archbishop of San Francisco,\n     United States.\n\n     Cardinal Bilio was appointed chairman.\n\nThis is looked on as the most important committee of the council; and\nit is gratifying to us, and honorable to the Catholic Church of the\nUnited States, that two of our archbishops should be placed on it.\n\nA third general congregation was held on the 21st of December,\nfor the election in the same manner of twenty-four prelates, to\nconstitute the deputation or committee on discipline. The number\nof votes given was larger than on the previous occasion. We give\nthe names of those elected, arranging them here, as we did before,\naccording to the number of suffrages each one received:\n\n     1. Most Rev. John McCloskey, Archbishop of New York, United States.\n\n     2. Rt. Rev. William Ullathorne, Bishop of Birmingham, England.\n\n     3. Most Rev. John McHale, Archbishop of Tuam, Ireland.\n\n     4. Most Rev. Pelagius De Lavastida, Archbishop of Mexico.\n\n     5. Rt. Rev. Pantaleon Monserrat y Navarro, Bishop of Barcelona,\n     Spain.\n\n     6. Most Rev. Anastasius Yusto, Archbishop of Burgos, Spain.\n\n     7. Most Rev. Julius Arrigoni, Archbishop of Lucca, Italy.\n\n     8. Most Rev. Francis Baillargeon, Archbishop of Quebec, Canada.\n\n     9. Most Rev. Paul Ballerini, Patriarch of Alexandria.\n\n     10. Rt. Rev. Claudius Plantier, Bishop of N\u00eemes, France.\n\n     11. Rt. Rev. Theodore de Montpellier, Bishop of Li\u00e8ge, France.\n\n     12. Rt. Rev. Stephen Marilley, Bishop of Lausanne, Switzerland.\n\n     13. Rt. Rev. F. X. Wierzchleyski, Bishop of Lemberg, Hungary.\n\n     14. Rt. Rev. George Stahl, Bishop of Wurzburg, Germany.\n\n     15. Rt. Rev. John Ambrose Huerta, Bishop of Puno, South America.\n\n     16. Rt. Rev. Charles Fillion, Bishop of Le Mans, France.\n\n     17. Rt. Rev. John B. Zwerger, Bishop of Segovia.\n\n     18. Rt. Rev. Nicholas Sergent, Bishop of Quimper, France.\n\n     19. Rt. Rev. Michael Heiss, Bishop of La Crosse, United States.\n\n     20. Most Rev. Marianus Ricciardi, Archbishop of Reggio, Italy.\n\n     21. Rt. Rev. Leo Meurin, Bishop of Ascalon.\n\n     22. Rt. Rev. John Guttadauro di Reburdone, Bishop of Caltanisetta,\n     Italy.\n\n     23. Rt. Rev. Marinus Marini, Bishop of Orvieto, Italy.\n\n     24. Rt. Rev. Joseph Aggarbati, Bishop of Sinigaglia, Italy.\n\n     Cardinal Caterini was afterward appointed president of this\n     committee.\n\nOn December 28th, another general congregation was held, at which\nthe following twenty-four prelates were elected, to constitute the\ncommittee on all questions relating to the religious orders:\n\n     1. Most Rev. Francis Felix y Solans, Archbishop of Tarragona,\n     Spain.\n\n     2. Rt. Rev. Andrew Raess, Bishop of Strasbourg, Alsace.\n\n     3. Most Rev. Godfrey St. Marc, Archbishop of Rennes, France.\n\n     4. Rt. Rev Ferdinand Blanco, Bishop of Avila, Spain.\n\n     5. Rt. Rev. John Derry, Bishop of Clonfert, Ireland.\n\n     6. Most Rev. Joseph B. Dusmet, Archbishop of Catania, Sicily.\n\n     7. Rt. Rev. Felix Cantimorri, Bishop of Parma, Italy.\n\n     8. Most Rev. Joseph J. Checa, Archbishop of Quito, South America.\n\n     9. Most Rev. Frederic de F\u00fcrstenberg, Archbishop of Olm\u00fctz.\n\n     10. Most Rev. Charles Pooten, Archbishop of Antivari and Scutari,\n     in Dalmatia.\n\n     11. Rt. Rev. Paul Micaleff, Bishop of Citt\u00e0 di Castello, Italy.\n\n     12. Rt. Rev. Stephen V. Ryan, Bishop of Buffalo, United States.\n\n     13. Rt. Rev. Simon Spilotros, Bishop of Tricarico, Greece.\n\n     14. Most Rev. Alexander Angeloni, Archbishop of Urbino, Italy.\n\n     15. Rt. Rev. Ignatius M. Cardoso, Bishop of Faro.\n\n     16. Rt. Rev. Francis de Leonrod, Bishop of Eichstadt, Bavaria.\n\n     17. Rt. Rev. William I. Clifford, Bishop of Clifton, England.\n\n     18. Rt. Rev. Thomas M. Salzano, Bishop of Tanes.\n\n     19. Rt. Rev. John I. Fayet, Bishop of Bruges, Belgium.\n\n     20. Rt. Rev. M. Ephrem Garrelon, Bishop of Nemesi.\n\n     21. Most Rev. Aloysius Nazari di Calabiano, Archbishop of Milan.\n\n     22. Most Rev. George Ebedjesu Kayatt, Chaldean Archbishop of Amida.\n\n     23. Rt. Rev. Caspar Willi, Bishop of Antipatros, Greece.\n\n     24. Rt. Rev. John Thomas Ghilardi, Bishop of Mondovi, Italy.\n\n     Cardinal Bizzarri was appointed president of this deputation.\n\nThis fourth congregation was one of importance and special interest,\nfor at this meeting the discussion of the _schema_, or draught, on\ncertain matters regarding faith, given to the bishops on December\n10th, was to commence. Originally, and to the great mortification\nof the architect, the noble hall prepared for the council was found\nto be unsuited for speaking. Its size, the loftiness of the roof,\nand its communication aloft with the nave and the dome, seemed to\nrender even strong voices inaudible. When the secretaries made\nannouncements, they were forced to repeat the same words two or\nthree times from different positions, that all might hear. To hold\ndiscussions there seemed impossible. Various halls in the Vatican\nPalace were measured. Several churches were examined; and at one\ntime it was almost decided to try a hall in the distant Quirinal\nPalace. But, before doing so, the architect tried other plans in\nthe council hall itself, and has finally succeeded in remedying the\nevils complained of in a very simple manner, and to the satisfaction\nof all. The hall itself is, as we have said, the north wing of the\ntransept, divided from the rest of the church by a partition wall,\nrising about one third of the way to the vaulted ceiling above. Its\ndimensions are about two hundred feet in length by almost one hundred\nin breadth, and the ceiling is over one hundred and fifty feet high.\nIts southern end, toward the church, is square. The other end is\nthe semi-circular apse of the transept. This apse is occupied by an\nelevated platform, on which, in the middle, is the throne of the\nsovereign pontiff. The cardinals are seated in lines on either side\nof him, and before them are seated the patriarchs. All this occupies\nnearly one third of the hall. For the other two thirds, lines of\nseats stretch down on either side, from the platform to the partition\nwall, giving ample room for all the bishops. In the middle, between\nthese rows of seats, stretches an ample space down to the broad door.\nToward the platform there are here and there in it tables and seats\nfor the secretaries, notaries, and other officials. Nearer the door\nstands the altar, and near by the movable pulpit. The alteration\nconsists in this: a second partition wall, of light materials, is\nthrown across the hall, about one third of the way from the door,\ncutting off the altar and one half of the seats on either side. The\nprelates who occupied these seats are now placed in other temporary\nseats in the middle space and on the platform. As the Holy Father\ndoes not preside in the congregations, his throne is removed, and\nthus room is obtained in the apse for another altar, at which the\nmass is celebrated. At its conclusion, the presiding cardinals come\nforward and take their places in seats in front of the altar. The\npulpit stands opposite, against the middle of the new partition; and\nthe loss of voice by its passage aloft into the church is prevented\nby an awning overhead, stretching entirely across the hall, and\nextending from the partition some twenty-five feet forward.\n\nIn a solemn session all this change disappears. The second partition\nand the awning are taken away. The prelates occupy their old places;\nthe second altar is removed; the pope's throne is restored; and the\nservices are at the original altar. All is brought back again for the\nnext congregation. A few hours suffice to put it up or take it away.\n\nIn the congregation of December 28th, after the voting had ended, and\nthe ballots had been sealed up as usual, to be afterward counted,\nthe presiding cardinal announced that the discussion on the first\n_schema_, or draught, on matters of faith, would now commence, and\nthat fourteen prelates had already given notice of their intention to\nspeak. They would have precedence of all others, and would be heard\nin their order of rank and seniority. Seven spoke that day, all of\ncourse in Latin. First was Cardinal Rauscher, of Vienna. The second\nof the number was the learned Archbishop of St. Louis. The seventh\nwas the eloquent Archbishop Connolly, of Halifax. The discussion was\ncontinued on the 29th, when, in addition to the seven who remained\nover from the day before, a second, list of ten additional speakers\nwas announced. On the 3d of January, the Bishop of Savannah spoke;\nand a third list of five more speakers was given in on the 4th. On\nthe 8th, still nine speakers in addition sent in their names; all was\nclosed at the sitting of January 11th. In all, thirty-five speakers\naddressed the council. Three others, who were to speak, stated that\nwhat they intended to say had already been fully treated of by other\nspeakers, and in such manner as to render any repetition unnecessary.\nThe speakers were from North America, South America, France, Spain,\nItaly, Prussia, Belgium, Austria, Hungary, Greece, Armenia, and\nChaldea. The Latin was their common language, and it was wonderful\nwith what correctness and readiness all spoke it. Some of them--the\nItalians and Hungarians especially--were as fluent as if it were\ntheir mother-tongue--as indeed it almost is for them. The nationality\nof the speaker might generally be known at once by the intonations of\nhis voice and the peculiarities of his pronunciation. But the widest\ndifferences heard there did not prevent their perfectly understanding\neach other. There was no one to use the \"English\" pronunciation of\nLatin. Had _that_ been heard, the majority of the bishops would have\nthought it some dialect of English. As it was, the variations seemed\nlike the differences of English, Irish, Scotch, and American orators,\nwho all speak the same language, each with a marked accent and\npeculiar mode of pronunciation; yet all are perfectly intelligible to\neach other.\n\nBut these peculiarities were forgotten, as the prelates bent forward\nto catch the calm and earnest words, in which the successive\nspeakers brought their intimate knowledge of the Holy Scriptures,\nof the traditions of the church, of the acute reasoning of the\nscholastics, of modern philosophy, of history, ecclesiastical and\ncivil, and of modern sciences in their most advanced stages, to\nbear on the subjects before them. The speakers seemed somewhat awed\nby the majesty of the assembly, but they spoke firmly and freely;\nfor they were fulfilling a sacred duty in thus expressing their\nmatured thoughts and earnest convictions. There was no applause. It\nwould scarce comport with the dignity of the assembly. The prelates\nlistened in silence and attentively, and seemed to weigh carefully\nthe merits of each argument or criticism as it dropped from the lips\nof the speaker.\n\nAll these discourses were carefully taken down by the stenographers\nof the council, and were immediately written out. At the conclusion\nof the discussion, the _Schema_ itself which had been discussed, and\nall the speeches on it, were referred to the deputation or committee\non faith, who will make such alterations and amendments in it as a\ncareful weighing of the remarks made may show to be advisable. In\nthis amended form, it will come again before the congregation for\nfurther consideration, and ultimately for approval or rejection. In\nthe mean time, other _schemata_ or draughts on discipline have been\nplaced in the hands of the prelates, to be studied, discussed, and\nacted on in a similar way.\n\nIn the congregation of January 3d, the death of Cardinal Reisach,\nchief of the presiding cardinals, was announced. He had not been able\nto return from Switzerland to take his seat in the council. It was\nalso announced that the holy father had appointed Cardinal De Angelis\nto fill the vacant place. Cardinal de Angelis is Bishop of Fermo, in\nItaly, and is a hale old man, approaching seventy years of age. He\nhas suffered not a little from the government of Victor Emanuel, and\nis looked on as a confessor like those of the earlier ages of the\nchurch. He was imprisoned, maltreated, taken away from his see, and\nkept for years _in domicilio coatto_, under arrest, as we would say,\nand forbidden to go beyond certain restricted limits. He was set at\nliberty about two years ago. He is a bishop of vast learning, full\nof zeal and energy, and of unshakable firmness. His sufferings have\nmade him the idol of the clergy of Italy. They hold him a most worthy\nsuccessor of the lamented Reisach.\n\nOn the festival of the Epiphany of our Lord, January 6th, the\nsecond solemn session of the Vatican Council was held. There was\nno procession. The prelates, having robed in cope and mitre in the\nadjoining chapels, entered the hall singly or in groups, and took\neach his proper place. At nine o'clock, the cardinals and sovereign\npontiff entered. Cardinal Patrizi celebrated the high mass. The\nmusic was by the unequalled choir of the Sistine Chapel. The crowd\nof strangers and Romans gathered in St. Peter's, though not so large\nas on the day of the opening, was still immense. At the conclusion\nof the mass, the book of the gospels was reverently enthroned on\nthe altar, the pontiff chanted the usual prayers, the Litany of the\nSaints was intoned, and the responses swelled and rang through the\nvast church as the bishops and thousands of the assistants sang them\nin unison. As on the first day, the pontiff arose toward the end of\nthe Litany, and thrice blessed the kneeling assembly, and prayed\nthe Saviour to bless, to sanctify, and to preserve and protect this\nholy council; and stronger and grander than before rolled the united\nanswer, _Te rogamus, audi nos_. Other prayers followed the Litany. A\ngospel was chanted, and the holy father intoned the _Veni Creator_.\nThe choir took up the strain, and the body of prelates responded in\nthe alternate verses. The usual prayer to the Holy Ghost followed.\nThe time for the special business of the session had come. It was\nto make the solemn profession of faith, which, by the laws of the\nchurch, is required in every ecclesiastical synod or council.\n\nThe promotors, approaching the holy father, knelt and asked that\nthis be now done. He assented, and arose, and put off his mitre. All\narose, and stood uncovered. In his own clear, ringing voice, in tones\nthat filled the hall, and passed out to the multitude beyond in the\nchurch--so clear that words could be caught far off at the other\nend of the transept--he read slowly and solemnly the profession of\nCatholic faith, in the form of Pius IV., and seemed to lay special\nstress on the declaration that in his heart he held and professed\nthis holy faith, and would hold it, with God's blessing, until death,\nand concluded, \"I, Pius, Bishop of the Catholic Church, so promise,\nvow, and swear. So help me God, and these holy gospels,\" and kissed\nthe book of gospels. He was then seated. The prelates remained\nstanding as before, while one of their number read, in a clear\nvoice, the same profession in their name. When he had concluded, the\nmasters of ceremony placed a book of the gospels on the knees of\nthe pontiff, and one by one the cardinals approached, according to\ntheir rank, and confirmed the profession, \"I, Constantine, Cardinal\nPatrizi, promise, vow, and swear, according to the form just read. So\nhelp me God, and these holy gospels,\" and kissed the book. After the\ncardinals came the patriarchs and primates, and then the archbishops\nand bishops. It was, in truth, a sublime evidence of the truth and\nthe living force of our holy religion to behold these prelates of\nthe church, assembled from every quarter of the globe, gradually\npassing down from their seats, as their turn came, to join the line\nthat was slowly passing up the centre of the hall toward the throne\nof the pontiff, that, kneeling before him, each one might personally\nunite in this solemn profession of a common faith. The crowd seemed\nelectrified, and at times almost melted to tears as they saw some\naged prelate, with tottering step, assisted up the steps of the\nplatform by the masters of ceremony, and again carefully and gently\naided, as he came down, or a blind bishop led on by the hand, that\nhe might unite with his brethren. The world was dark to him, but\nhis soul was illumined by the light of heaven. The prelates made\nthe profession each in the liturgical language of his rite. Most,\nof course, in Latin, some in Greek, and Syriac, and Chaldean, and\nArabic, and Armenian, and Copt, and Slavonic. In the true church,\naround the centre of unity, there may be many languages, there is but\none faith. Under the banner of error, even if the language be but\none, there are many religions.\n\nThis solemn ceremony lasted for two hours and a half. When it\nwas concluded, the _Te Deum_ was intoned, and chanted in the old\nand venerable Gregorian style by the choir, the bishops, and the\nassembled thousands, and with it closed the second public session of\nthe Vatican Council.\n\nROME, January 15, 1870.\n\n\n\n\nNEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n\n     THE POEMS OF THOMAS D'ARCY MCGEE. With Introduction and\n     Biographical Sketch by Mrs. J. Sadlier. 1 vol. 12mo, pp. xii. 612.\n     New York: D. & J. Sadlier & Co. 1869.\n\nThat Mr. McGee was a man of high intellectual gifts and merit no\none can deny. His _History of Ireland_ proves this sufficiently,\nto say nothing of his other writings in prose. As a statesman, he\nwas also above the common order. In respect to his integrity and\ndisinterestedness, the judgments of his countrymen are various, and\nhe has been at different times obnoxious to the censures of very\nopposite parties, while at the same time he has always had many warm\nadmirers. He was certainly led astray by revolutionary tendencies\nat one period of his career, and is accused of having, at a later\nperiod, erred in a contrary direction from a desire to gain political\npreferment. From what we know of him through his writings and the\nsketch of his life contained in this volume, we are disposed to think\nthat he was truly a noble-hearted man, and always intent on serving\nthe best interests both of his native and adopted countries, of his\nreligion, and of his own Celtic race everywhere. The faults of his\nyouth he made good by a subsequent reparation which does him honor,\nand we believe that in his later political life he was governed by\nsincere convictions, and never lost sight of the great object of his\nyouthful devotion. At the time of his dastardly assassination, which\nawoke such a lively and universal sentiment of sorrow, he was one of\nthe most valued contributors to this magazine, and was intending, had\nhis life been spared, to continue his interesting articles on topics\nconnected with Ireland.\n\nMrs. Sadlier's biographical sketch, introduction, and notes add\ngreatly to the worth of the volume, and to her already high\nreputation as a writer. Like all her other literary productions, they\nare full of the spirit of fervent enthusiasm for her religion and her\nrace and of the romantic love of her native island. The sentiments\nand opinions which are interwoven with the sketch of Mr. McGee's\nlife, in relation to the welfare of Ireland and the Irish people,\nmake it also one of the most sensible and judicious essays on this\nsubject we have ever met with. It is well worthy of the frequent and\nattentive perusal of every one who has the real interests of the\nIrish people at heart, and increases the debt of gratitude which all\nher countrymen in America owe to the accomplished authoress.\n\nWe have reserved our remarks on the poetry which fills this goodly\nvolume to the last. It has its chief interest and significance from\nits relation to the topics of which we have been speaking. It was\none of the instruments through which Mr. McGee gave voice to his\npatriotic sentiments, and sought to kindle the same in the hearts\nof his countrymen. That his themes are in themselves the fittest\npossible for the most stirring poetry, cannot be questioned. He was\nendowed with a large share of genuine poetic gifts, and the great\nnumber of really fine pieces which are contained in this volume,\nthrown off in leisure moments, in haste, and amid all his other\nlabors, prove that, if he had made it his chief aim to become a poet,\nhe would have attained great eminence. Some of his most perfect\npieces are truly exquisite, as a specimen of which we may designate\nthe one called \"Iona to Erin,\" first published in this magazine. We\nthink the editress might judiciously have omitted some of the more\nunfinished and imperfect pieces, and others written in the earlier\npart of his career, and containing too much of that unhallowed\nrevolutionary and vengeful fire which afterward gave place to a more\nholy and Christian flame. We hope this volume of genuine Irish poetry\nwill become a favorite book with the millions of exiles from Erin\nwho have made their home in this new world, and that their children\nalso will learn from it to love and venerate both the national and\nreligious traditions of the country of their forefathers.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     CREATION A RECENT WORK OF GOD. By the Rector of St. Mary's Church,\n     New York. New York: Pott & Amery, Cooper Union. 1870.\n\nThis is an attempt to show that the literal theory of creation in\nsix days is deducible from the observed facts of geology. The author\noccasionally shows some ingenuity, but on the whole the work is\nnot one which will command the respect of scientific men, and its\nappearance is rather to be regretted, as tending to the spread of\ninfidelity, by giving the impression that religion and science cannot\nwell be reconciled.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE HOLY GRAIL, AND OTHER POEMS. By Alfred Tennyson, D.C.L.,\n     Poet-Laureate. Boston: Fields, Osgood & Co. 1870.\n\nAll lovers of \"Tennyson's enchanted reverie\" have here another true\nfeast. The four Idylls, the main portion of the volume, are fully\nequal to the first four: as faultless, as sublime, as instructive.\nWe do not hesitate to say that the whole series of these \"Idylls of\nthe King,\" as the author intends them to be read, forms a work which,\nfor all that is best of epic and didactic, is not only unsurpassed,\nbut unequalled, in the poetry of the world. Besides its artistic\nbeauty, which out-Homer's Homer, it is eminently Catholic. The\npoet's genius could not fail to perceive that on Catholic ground\nalone is real romance to be found; and, as the result of deep and\naccurate study, his poem is a splendid proof of the Catholicity of\nthe ancient British church. He is also the purest of poets. None\nappreciates so well, on the one hand, the dignity of love and the\nsanctity of marriage; or, on the other, the glory of virginity and\nthe blessedness of divine espousals.\n\nThe rest of the volume bears the stamp of the same master-hand as\never. We only regret to find so few lyrics. Of those with which he\nhas deigned to enrich us, that entitled \"The Higher Pantheism\" is\nespecially worthy of note--for such, at least, as are capable of\nunderstanding it. Tennyson has the art of extrinsicating, and shaping\nin \"closest words,\" intuitions which all minds have in common, but\nmostly without the power of analyzing them, or even without the\nconsciousness of their presence. He uses the word \"pantheism\" here in\nthe sense that \"God is all,\" and not that \"all is God.\" He insists on\nthe objectivity of truth, and therefore diametrically opposes the\nsubjective autotheism of the day.\n\nThe influence of the poet is the widest and most lasting of\ninfluences; and Tennyson's influence for good, especially on the\nyouth of our times, is, in our judgment, inestimable. We believe that\nhis influence is powerful to check the follies and purify the tone of\nthe age, and we pray that this volume may not be his last.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     TITANIA'S BANQUET, PICTURES OF WOMAN, AND OTHER POEMS. By George\n     Hill. Third Edition. Revised and Enlarged. New York: D. Appleton &\n     Co. 1870.\n\nThis volume contains many pieces which prove the author a true poet.\nThere are passages worthy of Moore, and even of Byron. We regret,\nhowever, that the author should have done such an injustice to his\npowers as to show an habitual carelessness both in diction and in\nversification. \"The Ruins of Athens,\" too, by far the best long poem\nin the book, reflects too patently considerable portions of the first\ntwo cantos of \"Childe Harold,\" more especially of the second.\n\nWe congratulate the author on his conversion to the church. Had this\ntaken place in his younger days, he might have done service in the\ncause of Catholicity with his talents. We hope, however, it is not\ntoo late now.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     LIFE OF J. A. ALEXANDER, D.D. By H. C. Alexander. New York: Chas.\n     Scribner & Co. 1870.\n\nThis is an extremely well-written, interesting, and, moreover, genial\nand entertaining book, which any one, whether he be religious or\npurely worldly, a believer or an unbeliever in Christianity, a friend\nor a foe of Presbyterian doctrine, must read with pleasure. It is not\nan ordinary clerical biography, but the life of a man who, though\nbelonging to the clerical order in his own denomination, was chiefly\ndevoted to study and teaching, and was one of the most eminent\nscholars, as well as eloquent preachers, this country has produced.\nHe was also a man of the highest order of personal attractiveness,\nof exquisite taste and culture in _belles-lettres_, poetry, and\nmusic, and a humorist nearly if not quite equal to the choicest wits\nof English literature. It is impossible to read his life without\nadmiring and loving the man, and esteeming the great scholar. He\nwas a disciple, friend, and compeer of the celebrated Hengstenberg,\nwhose masterly vindication of the Messianic doctrine of the Old\nTestament against Jews and neologists is so well known. Professor\nAlexander's greatest work is a _Commentary on Isaias_, written in\nthe same spirit. He was a powerful opponent of that neological and\nrationalistic school which undermines all religion by denying the\ndivine authority of its inspired records, and so far did a great\nservice to the cause of Christianity. It is impossible not to see,\nhowever, that these great Protestant scholars, who produce such solid\nand valuable works in defence of that part of their doctrine which is\nCatholic, fail altogether in completing their structure. They stop\nshort at a certain point, and their genius immediately deserts them.\n\nTheir exposition of the doctrine concerning the person of the\nMessias is admirable; but when they come to explain the prophecies\nconcerning the Messianic kingdom, all vanishes into a vague ideality\nor a prognostication of some church of the future equally vain with\nthe Jewish expectation of a coming Messias. When we consider the\nlives and works of men in many respects so admirable, and who might\nhave been bright lights in the church of God, we grieve more deeply\nover that deplorable schism which divides from us so many who adore\nour Lord Jesus Christ and reverence the prophets and apostles.\nDr. Alexander was, of course, hostile to the Catholic religion,\nas he must have been to be an honest Presbyterian; but there is\nsurprisingly little in his biography that shocks the religious\nsentiment of a Catholic, and it appears very clearly how unbounded\nwas his admiration for the learned Cardinal Mezzofanti.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE ATTRIBUTES OF CHRIST; OR, CHRIST THE WONDERFUL, THE\n     COUNSELLOR, GOD THE MIGHTY, THE FATHER OF THE WORLD TO COME, THE\n     PRINCE OF PEACE. By the Rev. Father Joseph Gasparini, Passionist.\n     Dublin: James Duffy.\n\nThis book is a medium between a theological treatise and a series of\nmeditations. There is much learning and a great deal of imagination\nin it, using this last term in a good sense. Italians usually combine\nthe beautiful with the useful, and throw a poetic charm over grave\nsubjects. F. Gasparini is no exception, and we think his treatise\nought to be popular on this account.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     LIFE OF THE VENERABLE J. B. DE LA SALLE.\n\n     PARTICULAR EXAMEN FOR BROTHERS OF THE CHRISTIAN SCHOOLS. By\n     Brother Philippe. New York: P. O'Shea. 1870.\n\nThese are two very useful and edifying books, whose contents will\nrecommend them, although no effort has been made to give them an\nattractive exterior.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     LANGE'S COMMENTARY OF THE OLD TESTAMENT. Vol. V. New York: Charles\n     Scribner & Co.\n\nThis volume contains Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and the Song of Solomon,\ncommented by Dr. Otto Z\u00f6ckler. The first book is translated by\nProfessor Aiken, of Union College; the second by Professor Wells, of\nthe same college, with additions and a metrical version by Professor\nTayler Lewis; the third by Professor Green, of Princeton, well known\nby his excellent refutation of Colenso on the Pentateuch. It is a\nmonument of erudition, to which the American editors have contributed\nnot a little. The translations are valuable critical helps to a\nstudy of the original text. The poetical merit of the version of\nEcclesiastes does not appear to us of the first order. The inevitable\nshortcoming of all Protestant exposition of the Holy Scripture is\nmost patent in the commentary on the Canticles, the most difficult\nand mysterious book in the sacred canon. It is the divine text-book\nof mystical theology, and can be understood and expounded only by a\nman deeply versed in the science of the saints, such as St. John of\nthe Cross, whose spiritual canticles are a most perfect imitation and\nreproduction of the inspired songs of Solomon.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     ECCE FEMINA: AN ATTEMPT TO SOLVE THE WOMAN QUESTION, etc. By\n     Carlos White. Boston: Lee & Shepard.\n\nThis book is a novelty in one respect in our recent American\nliterature. It is logical. The style is clear, pointed, and direct;\nthe author grapples manfully with that arch sophist, John Stuart\nMill, and wresting the dagger of his logic from his hand, deals him\na deadly blow, like that which Joab gave to Abner the son of Ner. It\nadds much to the value of this book that the author does not indulge\nin any satire on women, but treats them with that respect which is\ntheir due so long as they remain women, and do not become Amazons. We\nare sorry to see him apply the coarse and libellous epithet \"bloody\"\nto Queen Mary of England. The less Protestants have to say about\nbloodshed in connection with English history the better; for history\nis a little better known than it used to be. Mr. White believes in\nthe Bible--almost as great a novelty now a days as believing in\nlogic. It is very refreshing to find a man who writes without cant,\nand yet asserts fearlessly Christian principles. Imperfect as it is,\nsuch Christianity as Mr. White professes is far preferable to the\nimmoral system which has lately given such loathsome exhibitions of\nitself as to evoke the bitter scorn and mockery of even the secular\npress. Mr. White deserves the thanks of the sensible portion of\nthe community, and we hope his book will be extensively read and\ncarefully reflected on by men and women alike.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     FAIR HARVARD. A Story of American College Life. New York: G. P.\n     Putnam & Son. 1869.\n\nThis book presents a sufficiently correct view of American college\nlife. It is interesting, possesses considerable literary merit, and\ncontains some happy sketches of Boston society.\n\nIt has, however, one fault in common with _Verdant Green_, a book\nafter which it is evidently modelled to a considerable extent.\nIt lacks a sufficiently high tone. Getting up muscle, excessive\ndrinking, midnight escapades, and immorality, alluded to more or\nless openly, are made to play entirely too prominent a part in\nboth stories. In _Fair Harvard_ the brutal foot-ball game (now, we\nbelieve, abolished) is depicted without condemnation--except from a\nyoung lady, whose judgment the reader is of course expected, with the\nhero of the story, to disregard--while the disgraceful conduct of the\nstudents at Worcester two years ago is narrated as though it were\nsomething very \"smart.\" When we read such things, we involuntarily\nthink of what Carlyle, we believe, says somewhere in his works--that\nmost young men at that age when, under the present system of\nthings, they are at college, should be _under barrels_. A couple of\ncontemptuous allusions, moreover, to the Irish people, found in this\nbook, are, we assure the author, to say the least, in exceedingly bad\ntaste.\n\nWe think it our duty to add that we by no means consider Harvard, or\nany other non-Catholic college, a suitable place for a Catholic young\nman to pursue his studies. His morality will there be endangered;\nbut what is perhaps of still more importance, his faith will be put\nin the greatest peril. This is true of Harvard College now more than\never before, since under the new _r\u00e9gime_ lectures are delivered\nbefore the students on all the different systems of philosophy, by\neminent professors of the same; and in this list Positivism--in\nother words, rank _Atheism_--is included. This is done in order\nthat the young student may be enabled to choose for himself--if he\npleases, _Atheism_! We have here, however, but a logical sequence of\nthe doctrine of private judgment, and we see to what they finally\ncome who have once rejected the only infallible criterion of truth.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE PRIMEVAL WORLD OF HEBREW TRADITION. By Frederick Henry Hedge.\n     Boston: Roberts Brothers. 1870.\n\nThe paper, type, and entire typographical and mechanical execution\nof this book are so extremely good that we are disappointed and\npained to be obliged to add that this pretty shell contains a\nworthless nut. The doctrine of the essay is an incoherent kind of\npantheism, together with a confused sort of semi-rationalism. The\nstyle is dull, and the manner of treating the topics introduced\nextremely commonplace. The only redeeming feature which an infidel\nbook can have is its smartness and charm of style. But a dull book of\ninfidelity is simply unbearable, and this one is almost as dull as\nthe _Essays and Reviews_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     AN AMERICAN FAMILY IN PARIS. With fifty-eight Illustrations\n     of historical Monuments and Familiar Scenes. New York: Hurd &\n     Houghton. 1869.\n\nThis book is, on the whole, written in a pleasant and interesting\nmanner; still, it is not fit to be put in the hands of Catholic\nchildren. It deals not alone with the Paris of to-day, but with the\nParis of the past, and so includes not only sight-seeing but history;\nand we cannot let our children get their first ideas of history from\nProtestant sources. It gives the old story of the so-called massacre\nof St. Bartholomew, with all its misrepresentations and errors; and\nalthough the life of St. Genevieve is beautifully told, still it\nadds \"that untrue and impossible stories have been told of her, and\nfoolish honors paid to her, which should not be paid to any human\nbeing.\" Though we cannot begin too soon to teach our children truth,\nit is not necessary or well to plunge their young minds into all the\nmisrepresentations, discussions, and contentions of the past.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     WILEY'S ELOCUTION AND ORATORY; GIVING A THOROUGH TREATISE ON\n     THE ART OF READING AND SPEAKING. Containing numerous and choice\n     Selections, etc. By Charles A. Wiley, Teacher of Elocution. New\n     York: Clark & Maynard, 5 Barclay street. Chicago: S. C. Griggs &\n     Co.\n\nThis seems a practical text-book of elocution, and contains useful\nhints on vocal culture. A few typographical errors slightly mar the\nappearance of the book, and a lack of perfect taste in the choice\nof pieces for declamation, especially in the \"Humorous Selections,\"\ndetracts from but does not destroy its value.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     LETTERS OF PEREGRINE PICKLE. By George P. Upton. Chicago: Western\n     News Company.\n\nWe can safely compliment the author on many features of his pleasant\nbook, but not on his selection of a _nom de plume_. And this little\nphrase reminds us that we are grateful to him for writing it\ncorrectly when he uses it, and for rising superior to the ordinary\nnewspaper French of _nomme_ de plume, esprit _du_ corps, etc. etc.\nAt the same time we decidedly object to his saying, (p. 104,) \"Every\nthing is so _blas\u00e9_,\" because in French the person, and not the\nthing, becomes _blas\u00e9_. Of course, it was not Mr. Upton's fault that\nthe Chicago printer had no accented _\u00e9_ in case. _Enthused_, he will\npermit us to remark, is a wretched vulgarism, and we have our doubts\nabout a thing that \"would go a great ways.\"\n\nMr. Upton is right in praising Jefferson's Rip van Winkle. It is a\npersonation as deserving of praise as the wretched dramatic version\nhe renders is of blame. He is also right in saying, \"The St. Elmos\nwho start off as scoundrels always remain so--Miss Evans to the\ncontrary notwithstanding.\" The chapters on the \"Maiden Aunt\" and\nthe \"Tenor\" are good, and fashionable weddings, the fashionable\nminister, and petroleum and shoddy, are well handled. The book\nhas generally a sound, wholesome tone, is straightforward in its\ndealing with sham and humbug, and possesses withal a dash of the\nspirit of the _Potiphar Papers_ and a flavor of the _Autocrat of the\nBreakfast-Table_ that make one feel as if among old friends.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     SYBARIS AND OTHER HOMES. By Edward E. Hale. 16mo, pp. 206. Boston:\n     Fields, Osgood & Co.\n\nThe purpose of this little book is to show how town and city life\nought to be arranged, how far certain experiments in improved social\narrangements have succeeded, and how the poor are compelled to live\nand die in the crowded tenements of our great metropolises, such as\nBoston and other continental capitals. The solid chunks of wisdom\nwhich Mr. Hale has to impart on these subjects are conveyed in the\npleasant disguise of short stories--in the telling of which he has\nvery few rivals among American authors. The narrative of \"My Visit\nto Sybaris\" is a peculiarly happy specimen of his aptitude for that\n_vraisemblance_ which is so important a part of a good fiction.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     MRS. GERALD'S NIECE. A Novel, by Lady Georgiana Fullerton. New\n     York: Appletons.\n\nLady Georgiana Fullerton's novels are most of them productions of\nconsiderable merit. Their great fault has been too much intensity of\npassion, a quality which has been subdued sufficiently in the present\nnovel to satisfy our critical judgment, without detracting from the\nvividness and warmth of conception and style so highly appreciated by\nthe novel-reader. Those who want an exciting story to read, which is\nfull of originality, and which abounds both in charming descriptions\nof natural scenery, and masterly delineations of character, while\nit is at the same time safe and sound enough to satisfy the most\nfastidious confessor, will probably be pleased with this one. Perhaps\nsome of them will skip the elaborate discussion of Anglicanism and\nCatholicity; but whatever mere story-readers may think, we must say\nthat they show, more than any thing else in the book, the great\nmental power and accurate knowledge of the accomplished authoress.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. By Marc Monnier. Translated from the\n     original French. Illustrated.\n\n     RAMESIS THE GREAT; OR, EGYPT 3300 YEARS AGO. Translated from the\n     French of F. de Lanoye. Illustrated. New York: Charles Scribner &\n     Co. 1870.\n\nTwo very interesting volumes, beautifully illustrated with wood-cuts\nof the most important places and things described in the text.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE FRONTIER SERIES. PLANTING THE WILDERNESS; OR, THE PIONEER\n     BOYS. A Story of Frontier Life. By James D. McCabe, Jr. Boston:\n     Lee & Shepard. 1870.\n\n     THE CABIN ON THE PRAIRIE. By Rev. C. H. Pearson, author of \"Scenes\n     in the West,\" etc. Illustrated. Boston: Lee & Shepard. 1870.\n\nPleasant and useful books for boys, full of the excitement they like\nso well, and giving them at the same time a knowledge of the early\nsettlements of the country that every American boy should have.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE SUNSET LAND; OR, THE GREAT PACIFIC SLOPE. By Rev. John Todd,\n     D.D. Boston: Lee & Shepard. 1870.\n\nAn interesting account of the climate, soil, and natural productions\nof California; of its mines and mining, and of the wonders and\nbeauties of its natural scenery.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     ELM ISLAND STORIES. THE BOY FARMERS OF ELM ISLAND. By Rev. Elijah\n     Kellogg, author of \"Spartacus to the Gladiators,\" \"Good Old\n     Times,\" etc. Boston: Lee & Shepard. 1870.\n\nA delightful story for boys.\n\n_The pamphlet in F. O'Flaherty's case_, which was severely censured\nin our last number, is, we are rejoiced to see, denounced in a\ncircular signed by every priest in good standing in the diocese of\nRochester as a scandalous forgery.\n\n\nBOOKS RECEIVED.\n\nFrom ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH & CO., 770 Broadway, New York: Evenings\nwith the Sacred Poets; a Series of Quiet Talks about the Singers and\ntheir Songs. By the author of \"Festival of Song,\" \"Salad for the\nSolitary,\" \"Mosaics,\" etc. 1870.\n\nFrom J. B. FORD & CO., 39 Park Row, New York: The Overture of Angels.\nBy Henry Ward Beecher, 1870. The Sermons of Henry Ward Beecher\nin Plymouth Church, Brooklyn; from _verbatim_ Reports. By T. J.\nEllinwood. \"Plymouth Pulpit,\" second series: March to September, 1869.\n\nFrom D. & J. SADLIER & CO., 31 Barclay street, New York:\nConversations on Liberalism and the Church. By O. A. Brownson, LL.D.\n\nFrom JAMES MILLER, 647 Broadway, New York: History of American\nSocialisms. By John Humphrey Noyes.\n\nFrom CHARLES SCRIBNER & CO., New York: Practical Composition; with\nnumerous Models and Exercises. By Mrs. Mary J. Harper, Packer\nCollegiate Institute, Brooklyn, N. Y. 1870.\n\nFrom D. APPLETON & CO., 90, 92, and 94 Grand street, New York: The\nPursuit of Holiness: a sequel to \"Thoughts on Personal Religion.\" By\nEdward Meyrick Goulburn, D.D., Dean of Norwich, and formerly one of\nHer Majesty's Chaplains in Ordinary. 1870.\n\nFrom J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO., Philadelphia: Bible Gems; or, Manual of\nScripture Lessons. By R. E. Kremer. 1870.\n\nLe Canada et les Zouaves Pontificaux. Memoire sur l'origine,\nl'enr\u00f4lement et l'exp\u00e9dition du contingent Canadien \u00e1 Rome, pendant\nl'ann\u00e9e 1868. Conpil\u00e9 par ordre du Comit\u00e9 Canadien des Zouaves\nPontificaux, par E. Lef. de Bellefeuille, membre du Comit\u00e9. Montreal:\nTypographie du journal _Le Nouveau Monde_, No. 23 Rue St. Vincent,\n1868. En vente: A l'Ev\u00each\u00e9 de Montreal et chez tous les Libraires\nCatholiques de la Province de Qu\u00e9bec.\n\nFrom T. W. STRONG, New York: The King's Daughters: An Allegory. By\nMadeleine Vere.\n\nFifteenth Annual Report of the Superintendent of Public Instruction\nof the State of New York. Albany: The Argus Company, Printers. 1869.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nTranscriber's Notes:\n\nObvious typographical errors have been repaired. Archaic spellings\nretained.\n\nHyphenation variants have been standardized.\n\nP. iv, \"New Publications\"; entry for \"Neal's ...\" was immediately\nafter \"Kickham's ...\" in the original; retained.\n\nP. 69, \"uplifted to bless;\" original read \"unlifted.\"\n\nP. 377, \"Another glory is in reserve for Saints Processus and\nMartinian\" and \"Returning from the altar of Saints Processus and\nMartinian\"; original showed \"Maximian\" in place of \"Martinian.\"\n\nP. 466, acrostic; original list displayed the initial letters laying\non their right sides, to spell \"VANSLEBIO\" sideways.","title":"The Catholic World, Vol. 10, October, 1869 to March, 1870","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":518209}