{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_46324/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_46324","id":"gutenberg_46324","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/46324","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: History - Religious","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Catholic Church -- Periodicals"],"text":"Transcriber's Note:\n\n    ^ indicates superscript of the letter that follows.\n\n    _Underscores_ indicate italicized text.\n\n    This volume included the entire text of the Dogmatic Decree on\n    Catholic Faith with its English translation. The Decree was not\n    in the original contents list, but appeared\u2014out of normal\n    pagination\u2014after the New Publications section at the end\n    of the June 1870 issue.\n\n    Remaining 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. XI.\n    APRIL, 1870, TO SEPTEMBER, 1870.\n\n\n    NEW YORK:\n    THE CATHOLIC PUBLICATION HOUSE,\n    9 Warren 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    Adam of Andreini, The, 602.\n\n    Brigand's God-child, The, 52.\n    Bridemaid's Story, A, 232.\n    Books, Old, 260.\n    Brittany; its People and its Poems, 390.\n    Boys, Reformatories for, 696.\n    Blanchard, Claude, Journal and Campaign of, 787.\n\n    Council of the Vatican, The First \u0152cumenical, 115, 270, 412, 546,\n        701, 838.\n    Church and State, 145.\n    Children, The Association for Befriending, 250.\n    Catholicity and Pantheism, 377.\n    Catholicity of the Nineteenth Century, The, 433.\n    Copernicus, Nicolaus, 806.\n    Church beyond the Rocky Mountains, The, 812.\n    Church of Christ, Dogmatic Decree on, 848.\n\n    Dion and the Sibyls, 15, 160, 306, 446, 623, 733.\n    Development of Religious Belief, Gould's, 70.\n    Dogmatic Decree on the Church of Christ, 848.\n\n    Emerson's Prose Works, 202.\n    England, Froude's History of, 289, 577.\n    Education, Religion in, 782.\n    Emigrant, The, 800.\n\n    F\u00e9nelon, 613.\n\n    Gould's Origin and Development of Religious Belief, 70.\n    Gordian Knots, Untying, 77.\n    Griffin, Gerald, 398, 667.\n    Greenwood, In the, 589.\n    Griffin, Gerald, The works of, 398, 667.\n    Genius, Hereditary, 721.\n    Girls, The Willian, 775.\n\n    Havana, Holy Week in, 58, 212.\n\n    Iron Mask, The, 87.\n    Ireland's Mission, 193.\n    Irish Farmers and Mr. Gladstone, 242.\n    Irish Churches, The Ancient, 472.\n    Invitation Heeded, The, 542.\n\n    Literary Notes, Foreign, 130, 424, 714.\n    Lothair, 537.\n    Lourdes, Our Lady of, 752.\n\n    Mary, Queen of Scots, 32, 221.\n    Mechanics, Molecular, 54.\n    \"Moral Results of the Romish System,\" The _New Englander_ on the,\n        106.\n    Maundeville, Sir John, 175.\n    Mary Stuart, 32, 221.\n    Matter and Spirit in the Light of Modern Science, 642.\n\n    _New Englander_, The, On the Moral Results of the Romish System,\n        106.\n    New England, Home Scenes in, 183.\n    Nazareth, 653.\n\n    Ochino, Fra Bernardino, 253.\n\n    Pope and the Council, by Janus, 327, 520, 680.\n    Pole, Cardinal, 346.\n    Protestantism, Phases of English, 482.\n    Paradise Lost of St. Avitus, The, 771.\n    Plutarch, 826.\n\n    Religious Liberty, 1.\n    Rome, Ten Years in, 518.\n\n    School Question, The, 91.\n    Science, Matter and Spirit in the Light of Modern, 642.\n    St. Francis, Miracle of, 834.\n\n    Unbelief, The Superstition of, 691.\n    Untying Gordian Knots, 77.\n\n    Vatican Council, The, 115, 270, 546, 701, 838.\n    Vermonters, The Young, 364, 509, 658.\n\n    Wooden Shoe, The Little, 343.\n    Wig, The Sagacious, 495.\n\n\nPOETRY.\n\n    A May Carol, 174, 376.\n\n    Exultent, Sion Fili\u00e6, 241.\n\n    Hymn of St. Paul's Christian Doctrine Society, 536.\n\n    Lines, 397.\n    Legend of the Infant Jesus, A, 480.\n\n    Mary, 201.\n\n    Our Lady's Nativity, 825.\n\n    Prayer, The Unfinished, 411.\n    Plange, Filia Sion, 76.\n\n    Rainbow, To the, 115.\n    Reading Homer, 666.\n\n    Stabat Mater, 49.\n    Sonnet, 193.\n\n    Thorns, 220.\n\n\nNEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n    Alger's End of the World, 136.\n    Assent, Grammar of, 144, 283, 426.\n    Arithmetics, Felter's, 575.\n    Architecture, Wonders of, 700.\n\n    Brownson's Conversations on Liberalism and the Church, 135.\n    Borromeo, St. Charles, Life of, 430.\n    Botany, Youman's First Book of, 431.\n    Beech Bluff, 720.\n\n    Catholic Church, Rhodes's Visible Unity of, 140.\n    Charlestown Convent, The, 429.\n    C\u00e6sar's Commentaries, 572.\n    Criminal Abortion, 574.\n    Catholic Church, History of, 860.\n    Clymer's Notes on the Nervous System, 859.\n\n    Dickens, Dialogues from, 288.\n    Day Sanctified, The, 572.\n    Dall's Alaska, 719.\n\n    Eclipse of 1869, Sands's Reports on, 142.\n    Economy, Bowen's American Political, 571.\n    Earth, Paradise of, 720.\n\n    Ferryman of the Tiber, The, 144.\n    Flemmings, The, Mrs. Dorsey's, 431.\n    Fasciculus Rerum, 576.\n\n    Geology and Revelation, Molloy's, 142.\n    Grammar of Assent, Newman's, 144, 283, 426.\n    Geographical Series, Guyot's, 286.\n    Glass-Making, 288.\n    Goodwin's Out of the Past, 860.\n\n    Health and Good Living, Hall's, 143.\n    Holy Influence, 432.\n    Home Communion, Reflections and Prayers for, 572.\n    Hawthorne's Note-Books, Passages from, 718.\n    Hidden Saints, 718.\n\n    Italian Art, Wonders of, 432.\n\n    Liberalism and the Church, Brownson, 135.\n    Lindsay's Evidence for the Papacy, 141.\n    Lacordaire's Conferences, 574.\n    Lifting the Veil, 718.\n\n    Marcy's Life Duties, 139.\n    Molloy's Geology and Revelation, 142.\n    Medicine, Niemeyer's Book of, 143.\n    Modern Europe, Shea's History of, 143.\n    Missale Romanum, 432.\n    Marriage, Evans's Treatise of the Christian Doctrine of, 573.\n    Marion, 719.\n    Meagher, Thomas F., Life of, 719.\n    Miles's Loretto, 720.\n\n    Nature, The Sublime in, 288.\n    Natural History of Animals, Tenney's, 283.\n    Noble Lady, A, 574.\n    Noethen's History of the Catholic Church, 860.\n\n    Papacy, Lindsay's Evidence for the, 141.\n    Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ, Veith's Life Pictures of, 143.\n    Paradise, Morris's Earthly, 144.\n    Pilgrimages in the Pyrenees and Landes, 575.\n\n    Rhodes's Visible Unity of the Catholic Church, 140.\n    Rami\u00e8re's De l'Unit\u00e9 dans l'Enseignement de la Philosophie, etc.,\n        284.\n\n    Sacrifice, the Double, 144.\n    Statutes of the Second Synod of Albany, 287.\n    Stanislas Kostka, Life of, 575.\n    Stations of the Cross, Album of, 576.\n    Sacred Heart, Devotion to, 720.\n\n    The Sun, 288.\n\n    Visible Unity of the Church, 140.\n    Visitation, History of the Order of, 719.\n    V\u00e9nard, Th\u00e9ophane, Life of, 858.\n\n    Waldenses, Melia on the, 428.\n    Wise Men, and who they were, Upham's, 431.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\nVOL. XI., No. 61.--APRIL, 1870.\n\n\nRELIGIOUS LIBERTY.[1]\n\nLAST ARTICLE.\n\n\nIn our third article on the Abb\u00e9 Martin's exhaustive work on\nthe future of Protestantism and Catholicity, we disposed of the\npretension of Protestants that the Reformation created and has\nsustained civil and political liberty in modern society. We proceed\nin the present and concluding article to dispose, as far as we\ncan, of the pretension that it has founded and sustained religious\nliberty, or the freedom of conscience.\n\nNo fact is more certain than that the Reformation has the credit\nwith non-Catholics, if not even with some half-instructed Catholics\nthemselves, of having originated religious liberty and vindicated\nthe freedom of the mind. Here as elsewhere the formula of the age,\nor what claims to be enlightened in it, is, Protestantism and\nfreedom, or Catholicity and slavery; and it is to its _prestige_ of\nhaving founded and sustained religious liberty that Protestantism\nowes its chief ability in our times to carry on its war against the\nchurch. Protestantism, like all false religions or systems, having\nno foundation in truth and no vital energy of its own, lives and\nprospers only by availing itself of the so-called spirit of the\nage, or by appealing to the dominant public opinion of the time and\nthe place. In the sixteenth century, the age tended to the revival\nof imperialism or c\u00e6sarism, and Protestantism favored monarchical\nabsolutism, and drew from it its life, its force, and its sustenance.\n\nThe spirit or dominant tendency of our age, dating from the middle of\nthe last century, has been and is the revival of the pagan republic,\nor, as we call it, democratic c\u00e6sarism, which asserts for the people\nas the state the supremacy which under imperialism is asserted for\nthe emperor. Protestantism lives and sustains itself now only by\nappealing to and representing this tendency, as we may see in the\ncontemporary objections to the church, that she is \"behind the age,\"\n\"does not conform to the age,\" \"is hostile to the spirit of the\nage,\" \"opposed to the spirit of the nineteenth century.\"\n\nEvery age, nation, or community understands by liberty, freedom to\nfollow unrestrained its own dominant tendency; we might say, its own\ndominant passion. In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, liberty\nmeant the freedom of temporal sovereigns to govern according to their\nown good pleasure, unrestrained by the church, on the one hand, and\nestates, diets, or parliaments, on the other. Liberty means now the\nfreedom of the people, unrestrained either by the rights of God or\nthe rights of princes, to govern as they or the demagogues, their\nmasters, judge proper. Hence, liberty, as the world understands it,\nvaries in its meaning from age to age, and from nation to nation,\nand, indeed, from individual to individual. Whatever favors or is in\naccordance with the dominant tendency or passion of an age, nation,\ncommunity, or individual, favors or is in accordance with liberty;\nand whatever opposes or impedes it is opposed to liberty--is civil,\npolitical, or spiritual despotism. Protestantism never resists, but\nalways follows, and encourages and echoes the dominant tendency of\nthe age or nation. The church, having a life and force derived from\na source independent of the age or nation, seeks not support in that\ndominant passion or tendency, does not yield or conform to it, but\nlabors unceasingly and with all her energy to conform it to herself.\nHence, in the estimation of the world, Protestantism is always on the\nside of liberty, and the church on the side of despotism and slavery.\n\nThe attempt to deny this, and to prove that the church favors\nliberty in this sense, is perfectly idle; and to seek to modify her\nposition and action, so as to force her to accept and conform to the\ndominant or popular tendency or passion of the age or nation, is to\nmistake her essential character and office, and to forget that her\nprecise mission is to govern all men and nations, kings and peoples,\nsovereigns and subjects, and to conform them to the invariable and\ninflexible law of God, which she is appointed by God himself to\ndeclare and apply, and therefore to resist with all her might every\npassion or tendency of every age, nation, community, or individual,\nwhenever and wherever it deviates from that law of which she is the\nguardian and judge. The church is instituted, as every Catholic who\nunderstands his religion believes, to guard and defend the rights of\nGod on earth against any and every enemy, at all times and in all\nplaces. She therefore does not and cannot accept, or in any degree\nfavor, liberty in the Protestant sense of liberty, and if liberty in\nthat sense be the true sense, the Protestant pretension cannot be\nsuccessfully denied.\n\nBut we have already seen that liberty in the Protestant sense is\nno liberty at all, or a liberty that in the civil and political\norder is identified with c\u00e6sarism--the absolutism of the prince in\na monarchy, the absolutism of the people or of the ruling majority\nfor the time in a democracy. This last might be inferred from the\nostracism practised in democratic Athens, and is asserted and\ndefended, or rather taken for granted, by almost the entire secular\npress in democratic America. The most conservative politicians\namong us recognize the justice of no restrictions on the will of\nthe people but such as are imposed by written constitutions, and\nwhich a majority or three fourths of the voters may alter at will\nand as they will. It is the boast of our popular orators and writers\nthat there are with us no restrictions on the absolute will of the\npeople but such as the people voluntarily impose on themselves,\nwhich, as self-imposed, are simply no restrictions at all. It is\nevident, then, if liberty means any thing, if there is any difference\nbetween liberty and despotism, freedom and slavery, the Protestant\nunderstanding of liberty is not the true one.\n\nNor is the Protestant understanding of _religious_ liberty a whit\nmore true. We have found that the basis or principle of all civil\nand political liberty is religious liberty, or the freedom and\nindependence of religion--that is to say, the spiritual order;\nbut from the point of view of Protestantism there is no religion,\nno spiritual order, to be free and independent. According to\nProtestantism, religion is a function, not a substantive existence\nor an objective reality. It is, as we have seen, on Protestant\nprinciples, a function of the state, of the community, or of the\nindividual, and whatever liberty there may be in the case, must\nbe predicated of one or another of these, not of religion, or the\nspiritual order. With Protestants the freedom and independence of\nreligion or the spiritual order would be an absurdity, for it is\nprecisely that which they began by protesting against. It is of the\nvery essence of Protestantism to deny and make unrelenting war on the\nfreedom and independence of religion, and the only liberty in the\ncase it can assert is the freedom of the state, the community, or the\nindividual from religion as law, and the right of one or another of\nthem to adopt or reject any religion or none at all as they choose,\nwhich is irreligious or infidel, not religious liberty.\n\nProtestantism, under its most favorable aspect, is not, even in the\nestimation of Protestants themselves, religion, or a religion; but\nthe view of religion which the reformers took, or which men take\nor may take of religion. At best it is not the objective truth or\nreality, but a human doctrine or theory of it, which has no existence\nout of the mind that forms or entertains it. Hence, Protestants\nassert, as their cardinal doctrine, justification by faith alone; and\nwhich faith is not the truth, but the mind's view of it. Hence, too,\nthey deny that the sacraments are efficacious _ex opere operato_,\nand maintain that, if efficacious at all, they are so _ex opere\nsuscipientis_. They reject the Real Presence as a \"fond imagination,\"\nand make every thing in religion depend on the subjective faith,\nconviction, or persuasion of the recipient. The church they recognize\nor assert is no living organism, no kingdom of God on earth, founded\nto teach and govern all men and nations in all things pertaining to\neternal life or the spiritual end of man, but a simple association of\nindividuals, with no life or authority except what it derives from\nthe individuals associated, and which is not hers, but theirs.\n\nSome Protestants go so far as to doubt or deny that there is any\ntruth or reality independent of the mind, and hold that man is\nhimself his own teacher and his own law-giver; but all concede,\nnay, maintain, that what is known or is present to the mind is\nnever the reality, the truth, or the divine law itself, but the\nmind's own representation of it. Hence their Protestantism is not\nsomething fixed and invariable, the same in all times and places, but\nvaries as the mind of Protestants itself varies, or as their views,\nconvictions, or feelings change, and they change ever with the spirit\nof the age or country. One of their gravest objections to the church\nwas, in the sixteenth century, that she had altered the faith; and\nin the nineteenth century is, that she does not alter it, that she\nremains inflexibly the same, and absolutely refuses to change her\nfaith to suit the times. They hold their own faith and doctrine\nalterable at will, and are continually changing it. Evidently, then,\nthey do not hold it to be the truth; for truth never changes: nor to\nbe the law of God, which they are bound to obey; for if the law of\nGod is alterable at all, it can be so only by God himself, never by\nman, any body of men, or any creature of God. There is no Protestant\nignorant or conceited enough to maintain the contrary.\n\nThis fact that Protestantism is a theory, a doctrine, or a view of\nreligion, not the objective reality itself, not the recognition and\nassertion of the rights of God, but a human view or theory of them,\nproves sufficiently that it is incompatible with the assertion of\n_religious_ liberty. All it can do is to assert the right or liberty\nof the state to adopt and ordain any view of religion it may take;\nof the community to form and enforce its own views, convictions, or\nopinions; or of the individual to make a religion to suit himself, or\nto go without any religion at all, as he pleases. In none of these\ncases is there any religious liberty; and in them all religion is\nsubjected to a purely human authority--the authority of the state,\nof the community, or of the individual, one as human as another.\nProtestantism is really in its very nature and essence an earnest and\nsolemn protest against religious liberty, and for it to assert the\nfreedom and independence of religion, or the spiritual order--that\nis, of religion as law to which all men are bound to conform--would\nbe to commit suicide. Even the supremacy of the spiritual order,\nwhich our old Puritans asserted, was only the assertion of the\nauthority of their interpretation of the written word against the\ndivine authority to interpret it claimed by the church, and against\nthe human authority of the civil magistrate claimed by Anglicanism,\nfrom which they separated, while it subjected it to the congregation,\nthe brotherhood, or to the ministers and elders, no more spiritual\nthan the civil magistrate himself.\n\nIn the beginning Protestantism made religion in nearly all Protestant\nnations a function of the state, as it is still in Great Britain,\nPrussia, the several Protestant German states, in Norway, Denmark,\nSweden, Holland, and the Protestant cantons of Switzerland. The\nprogress of events, and the changes of opinion, have produced a\nrevolt among Protestant nations against this order, and Protestants\nnow make, or are struggling to make, it a function of the community\nor the sect, and the more advanced party of them demand that it\nbe made a function of the individual. This advanced party do not\ndemand the freedom of religion, but the freedom of the individual\nfrom all religious restraints, from all obligations of obedience to\nany religious law, and indeed of any law at all, except the law he\nimposes on himself. Dr. Bellows, of this city, a champion of this\nparty, proves that it is not the freedom of religion, nor the freedom\nof the individual to be of any religion he chooses; for he denies\nthat he is free to be a Catholic, though he is free to be any thing\nelse. He tells Catholics they are only tolerated; and threatens them\nwith extermination by the sword, if they dare claim equal rights with\nProtestants, and insist on having their proportion of the public\nschools under their own control, or on not being taxed to support\nschools to which they cannot with a good conscience send their\nchildren.\n\nEvidently, then, the pretension that the Reformation has founded\nor favored religious liberty is as worthless as we have seen is\nthe pretension that it has founded or favored civil and political\nliberty. It has, on the contrary, uniformly opposed it, and asserted\nonly the liberty of its contradiction. To assert the liberty of the\nstate, the people, or the individual to control religion, or to\nassert the liberty of infidelity or no-religion, surely is not to\nassert the liberty of religion. Protestantism yields always to the\nspirit of the age, and asserts the right of that spirit to modify,\nalter, or subject religion to itself. There can be no religious\nliberty where religion must follow the spirit of the times, and\nchange as it changes. Religion, if any thing, is the supreme law\nof conscience, and conscience is a mere name if obliged to obey\nas its supreme law the dominant passion or tendency of the age or\nnation. The freedom of conscience is not in the emancipation of\nconscience from all law, for that were its destruction; but in its\nbeing subjected to no law but the law of God, promulgated by divine\nauthority, and declared to the understanding by God himself, or a\ncourt appointed, enlightened, and assisted by the Holy Spirit. Under\nProtestantism there is and can be no freedom of conscience; for under\nit conscience is either destroyed by being subjected to no law, or\nenslaved by being subjected to another law than the law of God.\n\nThis conclusion, which we obtain by a simple analysis of\nProtestantism, is confirmed by all the facts in the case. Every\nstudent of the history of Protestantism knows that the reformers\nnever made the pretension now put forth in their name. No man was\never farther from proposing the emancipation of the mind from what is\ncalled spiritual thraldom than Martin Luther, and no man ever showed\nless respect for human reason. His aim was to emancipate the church\nfrom the authority of the pope; and in this laudable work he engaged\nthe princes of the empire, who were ready to assist him, because\nin doing so they could also emancipate themselves, make themselves\npontiffs as well as princes, and enrich themselves with the spoils\nof the church. But Luther substituted for the authority of the pope\nand councils that of the written word, as amended and interpreted\nby himself. He never recognized the so-called right of private\njudgement, and never asserted the right of every man to interpret\nthe written word for himself. The Bible as interpreted by himself,\nMartin Luther, was to be taken in all cases as the supreme and only\nauthority, and he would tolerate no dissent from his interpretation.\nHe assumed for himself more than papal authority; for he confessedly\nassumed authority to alter the written word, which assuredly no pope\never did. He never admitted any right of dissent from his dicta, and\nwherever he could, he suppressed it by the strong arm of power.\n\nJohn Calvin was not more tolerant, as the burning of Michael Servetus\nover a slow fire made of green wood, and his pamphlet justifying\nthe burning of heretics, amply prove. Henry VIII. of England put\nto death Catholics and Lollards, beheaded Cardinal Fisher and Sir\nThomas More, because they refused to take the oath of the royal\nsupremacy, except with the qualification, \"as far as the law of\nChrist permits.\" In Sweden, the peasants were entrapped into the\nsupport of the Reformation by the infamous Gustavus Vasa, under\npretence of recovering and re\u00ebstablishing the national independence;\nand after the prince had regained by their aid his throne and been\ncrowned king, were massacred by thousands because they wished still\nto adhere to the Catholic Church, and resisted its abolition. In\nGeneva, Protestantism gained a footing in much the same way.\nProtestants came from Berne and other places to assist the citizens\nin a political rebellion against their prince, who was also their\nbishop, and afterward drove out the Catholics who could not be forced\nto accept the Reformation.\n\nWe need not pursue the history of the establishment of Protestantism,\nwhich is written in blood. Suffice it to say, that in no country was\nthe Reformation introduced but by the aid of the civil power, and in\nno state in which it gained the mastery did it fail to be established\nas the religion of the state, and to obtain the suppression by force\nor civil pains and penalties of the old religion, and of all forms\neven of Protestant dissent. The state religion was bound hand and\nfoot, and could move only by permission of the temporal sovereign,\nand no other religion was tolerated. We all know the penal laws\nagainst Catholics in England, Ireland, and Scotland, re\u00ebnacted with\nadditional severity under William and Mary, almost in the eighteenth\ncentury. James II., it is equally well known, lost the crown of his\nthree kingdoms by an edict of toleration, which, as it tolerated\nCatholics, was denounced as an act of outrageous tyranny. The penal\nlaws against Catholics were adopted by the Episcopalian colony of\nVirginia, and the Puritan colony of Massachusetts made it an offence\npunishable with banishment from the colony for a citizen to harbor a\nCatholic priest for a single night, or to give him a single meal of\nvictuals. It was only in 1788 that the Presbyterian Assembly of the\nUnited States expunged from their confession of faith the article\nwhich declares it the duty of the civil magistrate to extirpate\nheretics and idolaters--an article still retained by their brethren\nin Scotland, and by the United Presbyterians in this country.\n\nIndeed, toleration is quite a recent discovery. Old John Cotton, the\nfirst minister of Boston, took care to warn his hearers or readers\nthat he did not defend \"that _devil's_ doctrine, toleration.\"\nToleration to a limited extent first began to be practised among\nProtestants on the acquisition of provinces whose religion was\ndifferent from that of the state making the acquisition. The example\nwas followed of the pagan Romans, who tolerated the national religion\nof every conquered, tributary, or allied nation, though they\ntolerated no religion which was not national, and for three hundred\nyears martyred Christians because their religion was not national,\nbut Catholic. It is only since Voltaire and the Encyclop\u00e6dists\npreached toleration as the most effective weapon in their arsenal,\nas they supposed, against Christianity, or the beginnings of the\nFrench Revolution of 1789, that Protestants have taken up the strain,\nprofessed toleration, and claimed to be, and, in the face and eyes of\nall history, always to have been, the champions of religious liberty\nand the freedom of conscience. It was not till 1829 that the very\nimperfect Catholic Relief Bill passed in the British parliament,\nand the complete disestablishment of Congregationalism as the state\nreligion in Massachusetts did not take place till 1835, though\ndissenters had for some time previous been tolerated.\n\nYet in no Protestant state has complete liberty been extended to\nCatholics. The French Revolution, with its high-flown phrases of\nliberty, equality, brotherhood, and religious freedom, suppressed\nthe Catholic religion, and imprisoned, deported, or massacred the\nbishops and priests who would not abandon it for the civil church\nit ordained. We ourselves, though very young at the time, remember\nthe exultation of our Protestant neighbors when the first Napoleon\ndragged the venerable and saintly Pius VII. from his throne and held\nhim a prisoner, first at Savona, and afterward at Fontainebleau.\n\"Babylon is fallen,\" they cried; \"the man-child has slain the beast\nwith seven heads and ten horns.\" The revolutions, ostensibly social\nand political, which have been going on in the Catholic nations of\nEurope, and are still in process, and which everywhere are hostile to\nthe church, have the warm sympathy of Protestants of every nation,\nand in Italy and Spain have been aided and abetted by Protestant\nassociations and contributions, as part and parcel of the Protestant\nprogramme for the abolition of the papacy and the destruction of our\nholy religion.\n\nProtestants now tolerate Protestant dissenters, and allow Jews and\ninfidels equal rights with themselves; but they find great difficulty\nin regarding any outrage on the freedom of the church as an outrage\non religious liberty. She is Catholic, not national, over all\nnations, and subject to none; therefore no nation should tolerate\nher. Even in this country Protestants very reluctantly suffer her\npresence, and the liberal Dr. Bellows, a Protestant of Protestants,\nwarns, as we have seen, Catholics not to attempt to act as if they\nstood on an equality with Protestants. It is only a few years since\nthe whole country was agitated by the Know-Nothing movement, got up\nin secret lodges, for the purpose, if not of outlawing or banishing\nCatholics, at least of depriving them of civil and political\ncitizenship. The movement professed to be a movement in part\nagainst naturalizing persons of foreign birth, but really for the\nexclusion of such persons only in so far as they were Catholics. The\ncontroversy now raging on the school question proves that Protestants\nare very far from feeling that Catholics have equal rights with\nthemselves, or that the Catholic conscience is entitled to any\nrespect or consideration from the state. Public opinion proscribes\nus, and no Catholic could be chosen to represent a purely Protestant\nconstituency in any legislative body, if known to be such and to be\ndevoted to his religion. Our only protection, under God, is the fact\nthat we have votes which the leaders of all parties want; yet there\nis a movement now going on for female suffrage, which, if successful,\nwill, it is hoped, swamp our votes by bringing to the polls swarms\nof fanatical women, the creatures of fanatical preachers, together\nwith other swarms of infidel, lewd, or shameless women, who detest\nCatholic marriage and wish to be relieved of its restraints, as\nwell as of their duties as mothers. This may turn the scale against\nus; for Catholic women have too much delicacy, and too much of that\nretiring modesty that becomes the sex, to be seen at the polls.\n\nBut the imperfect toleration practised by Protestants is by no\nmeans due to their Protestantism, but to their growing indifference\nto religion, and to the conviction of Protestant and non-Catholic\ngovernments, that their supremacy over the spiritual order is so\nwell established, their victory so complete, that all danger of its\nrenewing the struggle to bring them again under its law is past.\nLet come what may, the spiritual order can never regain its former\nsupremacy, or C\u00e6sar tremble again at the bar of Peter. C\u00e6sar fancies\nthat he has shorn the church so completely of her Catholicity, except\nas an empty name, and so fully subjected her to his own or the\nnational authority, that he has no longer any need to be intolerant.\nWhy not, indeed, amnesty the poor Catholics, who can no longer be\ndangerous to the national sovereign, or interfere with the policy of\nthe state?\n\nFor ourselves, we do not pretend that the church is or ever has been\ntolerant. She is undeniably intolerant in her own order, as the law,\nas truth is intolerant, though she does not necessarily require\nthe state to be intolerant. She certainly is opposed to what the\nnineteenth century calls religious liberty, which, we have seen, is\nsimply the liberty of infidelity or irreligion. She does not teach\nviews or opinions, but presents the independent truth, the reality\nitself; proclaims, declares, and applies the law of God, always and\neverywhere one and the same. She cannot, then, while faithful to\nher trust, allow the truth to be denied without censuring those who\nknowingly deny it, or the law to be disobeyed without condemning\nthose who disobey it. But always and everywhere does the church\nassert, and, as far as she can, maintain the full and perfect liberty\nof religion, the entire freedom and independence of the spiritual\norder, to be itself and to act according to its own laws--that is,\nreligious liberty in her sense, and, if the words mean any thing,\nreligious liberty in its only true and legitimate sense.\n\nThe nineteenth century may not be able to understand it, or, if\nunderstanding it, to accept it; yet it is true that the spiritual\nis the superior, and the law of the temporal. The supremacy belongs\nin all things of right to God, represented on earth by the church\nor the spiritual order. The temporal has no rights, no legitimacy\nsave as subordinated to the spiritual--that is, to the end for which\nman is created and exists. The end for which all creatures are made\nand exist is not temporal, but spiritual and eternal; for it is\nGod himself who is the final cause as well as the first cause of\ncreation. The end, or God as final cause, prescribes the law which\nall men must obey, or fail of attaining their end, which is their\nsupreme good. This law all men and nations, kings and peoples,\nsovereigns and subjects, are alike bound to obey; it is for all men,\nfor states and empires, no less than for individuals, the supreme\nlaw, the law and the only law that binds the conscience.\n\nNow, religion is this law, and includes all that it commands to\nbe done, all that it forbids to be done, and all the means and\nconditions of its fulfilment. The church, as all Catholics hold, is\nthe embodiment of this law, and is therefore in her very nature and\nconstitution teleological. She speaks always and everywhere with\nthe authority of God, as the final cause of creation, and therefore\nher words are law, her commands are the commands of God. Christ,\nwho is God as well as man, is her personality, and therefore she\nlives, teaches, and governs in him, and he in her. This being so,\nit is clear that religious liberty must consist in the unrestrained\nfreedom and independence of the church to teach and govern all men\nand nations, princes and people, rulers and ruled, in all things\nenjoined by the teleological law of man's existence, and therefore in\nthe recognition and maintenance for the church of that very supreme\nauthority which the popes have always claimed, and against which\nthe Reformation protested, and which secular princes are generally\ndisposed to resist when it crosses their pride, their policy, their\nambition, or their love of power. Manifestly, then, religious liberty\nand Protestantism are mutually antagonistic, each warring against the\nother.\n\nThe church asserts and vindicates the rights of God in the\ngovernment of men, and hence is she called the kingdom of God on\nearth. The rights of God are the foundation of all human rights; for\nman cannot create or originate rights, since he is a creature, not\nhis own, and belongs, all he is and all he has, to his Creator. God's\nrights being perfect and absolute, extend to all his creatures; and\nhe has therefore the right that no one of his creatures oppress or\nwrong another, and that justice be done alike by all men to all men.\nWe can wrong no man, deprive no man of life, liberty, or the pursuit\nof happiness, without violating the rights of God and offending our\nMaker. \"Inasmuch as ye did it to the least of my brethren, ye did it\nunto me.\" Hence, the church in asserting and vindicating the rights\nof God, asserts and protects in the fullest manner possible the\nso-called inalienable rights of man, opposes with divine authority\nall tyranny, all despotism, all arbitrary power, all wrong, all\noppression, every species of slavery, and asserts the fullest\nliberty, political, civil, social, and individual, that is possible\nwithout confounding liberty with license. The liberty she sustains is\ntrue liberty; for it is that of which our Lord speaks when he says,\n\"If the Son makes you free, ye shall be free indeed.\" The church\nkeeps, guards, declares, and applies the divine law, of which human\nlaws must be transcripts in order to have the force or vigor of laws.\nMan has in his own right no power to legislate for man, and the state\ncan rightfully govern only by virtue of authority from God. Hence,\nSt. Paul says, _Non est potestas nisi a Deo_. \"There is no power\nexcept from God.\"\n\nThe church in asserting the supremacy of the law of God or of the\nspiritual order, asserts not only religious liberty, but all true\nliberty, civil, political, social, and individual; and we have\nseen that liberty, the basis and condition of civilization, was\nsteadily advancing in all these respects during the middle ages till\ninterrupted by the revival of paganism in the fifteenth century and\nthe outbreak of Protestantism in the sixteenth. The Reformation\ndid not emancipate society from spiritual thraldom, but raised it\nup in revolt against legitimate authority, and deprived it of all\nprotection, on the one hand, against arbitrary power, and, on the\nother, against anarchy and unbounded lawlessness, as the experience\nof more than three centuries has proved. There is not a government\nin Europe that is not daily conspired against, and it requires five\nmillions of armed soldiers even in time of peace to maintain internal\norder, and give some little security to property and life. To pretend\nthat the authority of the church, as the organ of the spiritual\norder, is despotic, is to use words without understanding their\nmeaning. Her authority is only that of the law of God, and she uses\nit only to maintain the rights of God, the basis and condition of the\nrights of individuals and of society. Man's rights, whether social\nor individual, civil or political, are the rights of God in and over\nman, and they can be maintained only by maintaining the rights of\nGod, or, what is the same thing, the authority of the church of God\nin the government of human affairs. Atheism is the denial of liberty,\nas also is pantheism, which denies God as creator.\n\nThere is no liberty where there is no authority competent to assert\nand maintain it, or where there is no authority derived from God,\nwho only hath dominion. The men who seek to get rid of authority as\nthe condition of asserting liberty are bereft of reason, and more\nin need of physic and good regimen than of argument. Liberty is not\nin being exempt from obedience, but in being held to obey only the\nrightful or legitimate authority. God's right to govern his creatures\nis full and perfect, and any authority he delegates or authorizes to\nbe exercised in his name, is legitimate, and in no sense abridges\nor interferes with liberty--unless by liberty you mean license--but\nis the sole condition of its maintenance. God's dominion over man\nis absolute, but is not despotic or tyrannical, since it is only\nhis absolute right. The authority of the church, however extended\nit may be, and she is the judge of its extent and its limitations,\nas the court is the judge of its own jurisdiction, is not despotic,\ntyrannical, or oppressive, because it is the authority of God\nexercised through her.\n\nThe pretension of Protestants that Protestantism favors liberty, and\nthe church despotism, is based on the supposition that authority\nnegatives liberty and liberty negatives authority, that whatever is\ngiven to the one is taken from the other; a supposition refuted some\ntime since, in the magazine for October last, in an article entitled\n_An Imaginary Contradiction_, and need detain us no longer at\npresent. Just or legitimate authority, founded on the rights of God,\nand instituted to assert and maintain them in human affairs, confirms\nand protects liberty instead of impairing it.\n\nYet there is no doubt that the church condemns liberty in the sense\nof the Reformation, and especially in that of the nineteenth century.\nProtestantism denies infallibility to the church and assumes it for\nthe age, for the state, for public opinion--that is, for the world.\nThe most shocking blasphemy in its eyes is to assert that the age\nis fallible and cannot be relied on as a safe or sure guide. We\ndiffer from the Protestant; we attribute infallibility to the church,\nand deny it to the age, even though the age be this enlightened\nnineteenth century. We do not believe it is always wise or prudent\nto suffer one's self to be carried away by the dominant tendency or\npassion of this or any other age. It is characteristic of every age\nto fix upon one special object or class of objects, and to pursue\nthem with an exclusiveness and a concentrated passion and energy that\nrender them practically evil, even though good when taken in their\nplace and wisely pursued. Even maternal affection becomes evil and\ndestructive, if not guided or restrained by wisdom and prudence.\nPhilanthropy is a noble sentiment; yet men and women in our own age,\ncarried away, dazzled, and blinded by it, only produce evils they\nwould avoid, defeat the very good they would effect. The spirit of\nour age is that of the production, accumulation, and possession of\nmaterial goods. Material goods in their proper measure and place\nare needed; but when their production and accumulation become with\nan individual or an age an engrossing passion that excludes the\nspiritual and the eternal, they are evil, and lead only to ruin, both\nspiritual and material, as daily experience proves.\n\nThe church, then, instituted to teach the truth and to secure\nobedience to the law of God, directed always by her divine ideal,\nis forced to resist always and everywhere the age, that is, the\nworld, instead of following its spirit, and to labor for its\ncorrection, not for its encouragement. Hence always is there more\nor less opposition between the church and what is called the spirit\nof the age, and their mutual concordance is never to be looked for\nso long as the world stands. Hence the church in this world is the\nchurch militant, and her normal life one of never-ending struggle\nwith the world--spirit of the age, _der Welt-Geist_--the flesh, and\nthe devil. It is only by this struggle that she makes conquests\nfor heaven, and prevents civil governments from degenerating into\nintolerable tyrannies, and society from lapsing into pagan darkness\nand superstition.\n\nWe have, we think, sufficiently disposed of the Protestant\npretension, and if any of our readers think we have not fully done\nit, we refer them to the work before us. There is no doubt that the\nboldness, not to say impudence, with which the Protestant pretension\nis urged, and the support it receives from the rationalistic\njournalism and literature which form contemporary public opinion\nin Catholic nations, coupled with the general ignorance of history\nand the shortness of men's memories, accounts for the chief success\nof Protestant missions in unmaking Catholics, which, though very\nlimited, is yet much greater than it is pleasant to think. Yet\ngradually the truth will find its way to the public; even Protestants\nthemselves will by and by tell it, piece by piece, as they are now\ndoing. They have already refuted many of the falsehoods and calumnies\nthey began by inventing and publishing against the church, and in due\ntime they will refute the rest.\n\nThe abb\u00e9 shows very clearly that the toleration now accepted and to\nsome extent practised, and the liberty now allowed to the various\nsects, will most likely have a disastrous effect on the future of\nProtestantism. It must sooner or later, he thinks, lead to the\ndemolition of the Protestant national establishments. National\nchurches cannot coexist with unlimited freedom of dissent. The\nEnglish Church must soon follow the fate of the Anglican Church in\nIreland. Its disestablishment is only a question of time. So it\nwill be before long in all Protestant nations that have a national\nchurch. The doctrine of toleration and freedom for all sects and\nopinions not only tends to produce indifference to dogmatic theology,\nbut is itself a result of that indifference; and indifference\nto dogmatic truth is a more formidable enemy to deal with than\nout-and-out disbelief or positive infidelity. A soul breathing\nforth threatenings, and filled with rage against Christians, can be\nconverted, and became Paul the apostle and doctor of the Gentiles;\nbut the conversion of a Gallio, who cares for none of these things,\nis a rare event.\n\nWith the several sects, doctrinal differences are daily becoming\nmatters of less and less importance. Who hears now of controversies\nbetween Calvinists and Arminians? Even the New School and the Old\nSchool Presbyterians, though separated by grave dogmatic differences,\nunite and form one and the same ecclesiastical body; Presbyterians\nand Methodists work together in harmony; Orthodox Congregationalists\nshow signs of fraternizing with Unitarians, and Unitarians fraternize\nwith Radicals who reject the very name of Christian, and can hardly\nbe said to believe even in God. One need not any longer believe any\nthing, except that Catholicity is a gross superstition, and the\nchurch a spiritual despotism, the grand enemy of the human race,\nin order to be a good and acceptable Protestant. A certain inward\nsentiment, emotion, or affection, which even a pantheist or an\natheist may experience, suffices. The dread presence of the church,\nhatred of Catholicity, the zeal inspired by party attachment, and\nthe hope of finally arriving at some solid footing, may keep up\nappearances for some time to come; the eloquence, the polished\nmanners, the personal influence, and the demagogic arts and address\nof the preacher may continue for a while to fill a few fashionable\nmeeting-houses; but when success depends on the personal character\nand address of the minister, as is rapidly becoming the fact in all\nProtestant sects, we may take it for granted that Protestantism has\nseen its best days, is going the way of all the earth, and soon the\nplace that has known it shall know it no more for ever.\n\nProtestantism, with all deference to our author, who pronounces it\nimperishable, we venture to say, has well-nigh run its course. It\nbegan by divorcing the church from the papacy and subjecting religion\nto the national authority, subordinating the spiritual to the\ntemporal, the priest to the magistrate, the representative of heaven\nto the representative of earth. It constituted the national sovereign\nthe supreme head and governor, the pontifex maximus, after the manner\nof the Gentiles, of the national religion, or the national church,\nand punished dissent as treason against the prince. It was at first,\nand for over two centuries, bitterly intolerant, especially against\nCatholics, whom it persecuted with a refined cruelty which recalled,\nif it did not surpass, that practised by paganism on Christians in\nthe martyr ages.\n\nTired of persecution, or finding it impotent to prevent dissent,\nProtestantism tried after a while its hand at civil toleration.\nThe state tolerated, to a greater or less extent, at first only\nProtestant dissenters from the established church; but at last,\nthough with many restrictions, and with the sword ever suspended over\ntheir heads, even Catholics themselves. From civil toleration, from\nceasing to cut the throats and confiscate the goods of Catholics, and\nof Protestant recusants, it is passing now to theological tolerance,\nor what it calls complete religious liberty, though as yet only its\nadvanced-guard have reached it.\n\nThe state, unless in the American republic, does not, indeed,\ndisclaim its supremacy over the church; but it leaves religion to\ntake care of itself, as a thing beneath the notice of the civil\nmagistrate, so long as it abstains from interfering with state\npolicy, or meddling with politics. To-day Protestantism divorces,\nor is seeking to divorce, the church from the state, as it began\nby divorcing both her and the state from the papacy; it divorces\nreligion from the church and from morality, Christianity from\nChrist, faith from dogma, piety from reason, and it resolves into an\naffection of man's emotional or sentimental nature. We find persons\ncalling themselves Christians who do not believe in Christ, or regard\nhim as a myth, and godly, who do not even believe in God. We have\nmen, and women too, who demand the disruption of the marriage tie in\nthe name of morality, and free love in the name of purity. Words lose\ntheir meaning. The churl is called liberal, things bitter are called\nsweet, and things profane are called holy. Not many years since,\nthere was published in England, and republished here, an earnest\nand ingenious poem, designed to rehabilitate Satan, and chanting\nhis merits as man's noblest, best, and truest friend. In the mean\ntime, every thing regarded as religion loses its hold on the new\ngenerations; moral corruption of all sorts in public, domestic, and\nprivate life is making fearful progress throughout the Anglo-Saxon\nworld, the mainstay of Protestantism; and society seems tottering on\nthe verge of dissolution. Such is the career Protestantism has run,\nis running, or, by the merciless logic to which it is subjected,\nwill be forced to run. What hope, then, can Protestants have for its\nfuture?\n\nAs to the future of Catholicity, we are under no apprehensions.\nWe know that never can the church be in this world the church\ntriumphant, and that she and the world will always be in a state of\nmutual hostility; but the hostility can never harm her, though it\nmay cause the spiritual ruin of the individuals and nations that\nwar against her. The Protestant world have for over three hundred\nyears been trying to get on without her, and have succeeded but\nindifferently. Sensible and earnest-minded men among Protestants\nthemselves boldly pronounce that the experiment has failed, which\nmost Protestants inwardly feel, and sadly deplore; but like the poor\nman in Balzac's novel, who has spent his own patrimony, his wife's\ndower, the portion of his daughter, with all he could borrow, beg,\nor steal, and reduced his wife, his children, and himself to utter\ndestitution, in the _recherche d'absolu_, they are buoyed up by the\nfeeling that they are just a-going to succeed. But even this feeling\ncannot last always. Hope too long \"deferred maketh the heart sick.\"\nIt may be long yet, and many souls for whom Christ has died be\nlost, before the nations that have apostatized learn wisdom enough\nto abandon the delusive hope, and turn again to Him whom they have\nrejected, or look again, weeping, on the face of Him whom they have\ncrucified. But the church will stand, whether they return or not; for\nshe is founded on a rock that cannot be shaken, on the eternal truth\nof God, that cannot fail.\n\nThe Protestant experiment has demonstrated beyond question that\nthe very things in the Catholic Church which are most offensive to\nthis age, and for which it wages unrelenting war against her, are\nprecisely those things it most needs for its own protection and\nsafety. It needs, first of all, the Catholic Church--nay, the papacy\nitself--to declare and apply the law of God to states and empires,\nto sovereigns and subjects, kings and peoples, that politics may no\nlonger be divorced from religion, but be rendered subsidiary to the\nspiritual, the eternal end of man, for which both individuals and\nsociety exist and civil governments are instituted. It needs the\nchurch to declare and enforce the law, by such means as she judges\nproper, that should govern the relation of the sexes; to hallow\nand protect marriage, the basis of the family, as the family is of\nsociety, that great sacrament or mysterious union, typical of the\nunion of Christ with the church, which is indissoluble; to take\ncharge of education, and to train up, or cause to be trained up, the\nyoung in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, or in the way they\nshould go, that when old they shall not depart from it; to teach\nmaidens modesty and reserve, and wives and mothers due submission\nto their husbands and proper care of their children; to assert and\nprotect the rights of women; to train them to be contented to be\nwomen, and not to aspire to be men, or to usurp the functions of men,\nand to bid them stay at home, and not be gadding abroad, running over\nthe country and spouting nonsense, free love, infidelity, impiety,\nand blasphemy, at suffrage conventions and other gatherings, at which\nit is a shame for a woman to open her mouth, or even to be present;\nand, most of all, to exercise a vigilant censorship over ideas,\nwhether vented in books, journals, or lectures, and to keep from the\npublic those which tend to mislead the mind or corrupt the heart, as\na prudent father strives to keep them from his children.\n\nThe age needs for this the _Catholic_ Church. A national church\ncannot do it; far less can the sects do it. These all depend on the\npublic opinion of the age, the nation, or the sect, and have no\npower to withstand that opinion. This is perhaps better understood\nhere than elsewhere. The sects, being creatures of opinion, have\nno power to control it, and their tendency is invariably to seize\nupon every opinion, excitement, or movement that is, or is likely\nto be, popular, and help it on as the means of swelling, when it\nis at flood-tide, their own respective numbers. A national church\nhas undoubtedly more stability, and is not so easily wrested from\nits moorings. But it has only the stability of the government that\nordains it, and the most absolute government must sooner or later\nyield to the force of opinion. Opinion has disestablished and\ndisendowed the state church in Ireland, and will, as is most likely,\ndo it ere long in both England and Scotland. The Protestant sects\nhave no alternative; they must either yield to the dominant opinion,\ntendency, or passion of the times and move on with it, or be swept\naway by it.\n\nIt is only a church truly catholic, that depends on no nation, that\nextends to all, and is over all, that derives not its being or its\nstrength from the opinion of courts or of peoples, but rests on\nGod for her being, her law, and her support, that can maintain her\nintegrity, or have the courage to stand before an age or a nation,\ndenounce its errors, and condemn its dominant passion or tendency, or\nthat would be heeded, if she did. It was only the visible head of the\nCatholic Church, the vicar of Christ, that could perform the heroic\nact of publishing in this century the Syllabus; and if, as we are\nconfident they have, the prelates assembled in the Council of the\nVatican have some share of the courage of their chief, their decrees\nwill not only draw the attention of the world anew to the church, but\ngo far to prove to apostate nations and truculent governments that\nshe takes counsel of God, not of the weakness and timidity of men.\n\nA few more such acts as the publication of the Syllabus and the\nconvocation of the council now sitting at Rome, joined to the\nmanifest failure of Protestantism, will serve to open the eyes of the\npeople, disabuse non-Catholics of the delusions under which they are\nled away to their own destruction. The very freedom, though false in\nprinciple, which is suffered in Protestant nations, while it removes\nall restraints from infidelity, immorality, and blasphemy, aids the\nvictory of the church over her enemies. It ruins them by suffering\nthem to run into all manner of excesses; but she can use it without\ndanger and with advantage where there are minds to be convinced or\nhearts to be won; for she can abide the freest examination, the most\nrigid investigation and scrutiny, while the indwelling Holy Ghost\ncannot fail to protect her from all error on either side. The present\ndelusions of the loud-boasting nineteenth century must give way\nbefore her as she once more stands forth in her true light, and her\npresent enemies be vanquished.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[1] _De l'Avenir du Protestantisme et du Catholicisme._ Par M. l'Abb\u00e9\nF. Martin. Paris: Tobra et Haton. 1869. 8vo, pp. 608.\n\n\n\n\nDION AND THE SIBYLS.\n\nA CLASSIC, CHRISTIAN NOVEL.\n\nBY MILES GERALD KEON, COLONIAL SECRETARY, BERMUDA, AUTHOR OF \"HARDING,\nTHE MONEY-SPINNER,\" ETC.\n\n\nDEDICATION.\n\nI dedicate the following work to Edward Bulwer, Lord Lytton, not\nonly in appreciation of one of the most searching, comprehensive,\nindependent, and indefatigable thinkers, and one of the truest and\nhighest men of genius, of whom it has ever been the lot of his own\ncountry and of the English-speaking races to be proud, and the fate\nof contemporary nations to feel honorably jealous; not only in\nadmiration of a mind which nature made great, and which study has to\nthe last degree cultivated, whose influence and authority have been\nsteadily rising since he first began to labor in literary fields more\nvaried than almost any into which ONE person had previously dared to\ncarry the efforts of the intellect; but still more as an humble token\nof the grateful love which I feel in return for the faithful and\nconsistent friendship and the innumerable services with which a great\ngenius and a great man has honored me during twenty years.\n\n                                          MILES GERALD KEON.\n    PARIS, Jan. 18, 1870.\n\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\nThe historical romance of Mr. Keon, now republished with the author's\nmost cordial permission and his latest corrections, was first printed\nin London, in 1866, by Mr. Bentley, publisher in ordinary to the\nQueen. The edition was brought out in a very handsome style, and\nsold at the high price of a guinea. Notwithstanding the heavy price\nat which the work was furnished to our transpontine kinsfolk, (or at\nleast to the \"upper ten thousand\" of them,) it is at this moment out\nof print, and an effort made about two years ago to procure copies\nfor sale in this country was unsuccessful. The copy kindly sent\nus by the author was accidentally mislaid for several months, and\nthis circumstance, together with the desire to give our readers the\nopportunity of perusing the work as soon as their attention should be\ndirected to it by a notice such as its high merit demands, caused\nus to delay the proper public acknowledgment to the author until the\npresent moment. Its success in England, in spite of the nationality\nand religion of the writer, is no slight proof of its intrinsic\nexcellence, especially when we consider that he ventured into a field\nwhich the subject-matter of the book would turn into the very home\nand headquarters of English prejudice.\n\nTo every effect adequate cause; and, in this instance, to those who\ntake up the story of _Dion_, one cause of its success will, before\nthey have gone half way through its events and adventures, speak for\nitself. Yet, however light to read, the work has, we feel convinced,\nbeen in the last degree laborious both to plan and to execute.\n\"Easy writing,\" said Thomas Moore, \"very often makes fearfully hard\nreading.\" We believe the converse has often proved equally true.\n\nWe are glad to learn that Mr. Keon has recently received a far more\ngratifying recognition of his distinguished merit than any other to\nwhich a Catholic author can aspire. At a private audience granted\nhim by Pius IX., His Holiness complimented him on his services to\nliterature and religion, and gave him a beautiful rosary of pearl as\na token of his august favor.\n\nOne word more, and we shall let the story itself begin to be heard.\nThe epoch of _Dion_ was the turning-point of all human history--the\nhinge of the fateful gates, the moment of the mightiest and most\nstupendous transition our world has ever known, the transition\nof transitions; the moment on this earth of a superplanetary,\nsupercosmic drama. There were two suns in the heavens; one rising,\nnever to set; the other going down to rise no more. At no epoch had\nhuman genius blazed so luminous, or human pride poised itself on\nwings so wide, in a sphere so sublime; but this genius was for the\nfirst time confronted in its own sphere by divine inspiration and a\nsupernatural authority. The setting of a classic though pagan day\nsaw the dawning day of Christianity. There were two suns in one sky\nat the same moment. The doubtful cross-lights of two civilizations\nover-arched the world with a vault of shifting, contending, contrary,\nand awful splendors--those of one order in the utmost intensity\nof their radiance, those of the other in their first, glimmering\nbeginnings; a seeming confusion; an internecine war; a hazy mingling\nof embattled glories as full of meaning as it was of mystery.\n\n                                            ED. CATH. WORLD.\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nIt was a fair evening in autumn, toward the end of the year eleven\nof our Lord. Augustus C\u00e6sar was a white-haired, olive-complexioned,\nand somewhat frail-featured, though stately man of more than\nseventy-three. At the beginning of the century in which this was\nwritten, the face of the first Napoleon recalled to the minds of\nantiquaries and students of numismatic remains the lineaments,\nengraved upon the extant coins of Augustus. Indeed, at this moment\nthere is in the Vatican a beautiful marble bust in excellent\npreservation, representing one of these two emperors as he was while\nyet young; and this bust almost invariably produces a curious effect\nupon the stranger who contemplates it for the first time. \"That is\ncertainly a beautiful artistic work,\" he says, \"but the likeness is\nhardly perfect.\"\n\n\"Likeness of whom?\" replies some Italian friend. \"Of the emperor,\"\nsays the stranger. \"_Sicuro!_ But which emperor?\" asks the Italian,\nsmiling. \"Of course, the first,\" says the visitor; \"_not this_ one.\"\n\"But that represents Augustus C\u00e6sar, not Napoleon Bonaparte,\" is\nthe answer. Whereupon the stranger, who, a moment before had very\njustly pronounced the resemblance to Bonaparte to be hardly perfect,\nexclaims, not less justly, What an amazing likeness to Napoleon!\nThat sort of admiring surprise is intelligible. Had the bust been\ndesigned as an image of the great modern conqueror, there had been\nsomething to censure. But the work which, at one and the same time,\ndelineates the second C\u00e6sar, and yet now after 1800 years recalls to\nmind the first Napoleon, has become a curious monument indeed.\n\nThe second Roman emperor, however, had not a forehead so broad\nand commanding nor so marble smooth as Napoleon's, and the whole\ncountenance, at the time when our narrative begins, offered a more\ndecisively aquiline curve, with more numerous and much thinner lines\nabout the mouth. Still, even at the age which he had then reached--in\nthe year eleven of our Lord--he showed traces of that amazing beauty\nwhich had enchanted the whole classic world in the days of his youth.\nThree years more, and his reign and life were to go down in a great,\nbroad, calm, treacherous sunset together.\n\nAfter the senate had rewarded the histrionic and purely make-believe\nmoderation of its master--and in truth its destroyer--by giving to\none who had named himself _Princeps_ the greater name of Augustus,\nthe former title, like a left-off robe, too good to be thrown away,\nwas carefully picked up, brushed into all its gloss, and appropriated\nby a second performer. We allude, of course, to Drusus Tiberius\nClaudius Nero, the future emperor, best known by his second name\nof Tiberius. The first and third names had belonged to his brother\nalso. Tiberius was then \"Prince and C\u00e6sar,\" as the new slang of\nflattery termed him; he was stepson of Augustus and already adopted\nheir, solemnly _designatus_. He was verging upon the close of his\nfifty-third year of cautious profligacy, clandestine vindictiveness,\nand strictly-regulated vices. History has not accused him of\nmurdering Agrippa Vespasianus; but had Agrippa survived, he would\nhave held all Tiberius's present offices. \u00c6lius Sejanus, commander of\nthe pr\u00e6torian guards, was occupied in watching the monthly, watching\neven the daily, decay of strength in the living emperor, and was\npandering to the passions of his probable successor. Up to this time\nSejanus had been, and still was, thus employed. More dangerous hopes\nhad not arisen in his bosom; he had not yet indulged in the vision\nof becoming master of the known world--a dream which, some twenty\nyears afterward, consigned him to cruel and sudden destruction.\nNo conspirator, perhaps, ever exercised more craft and patience\nin preparing, or betrayed more stupidity at last in executing, an\nattempt at treason on so great a scale. It was forty-six years since\nSallust had expired amid the luxuries which cruelty and rapine\naccumulated, after profligacy had first brought him acquainted with\nwant.\n\nOvid had just been sent into exile at Temesvar in Turkey--then\ncalled Tomos in Scythia. Cornelius Nepos was ending his days in the\npersonal privacy and literary notoriety in which he had lived. Virgil\nhad been dead a whole generation; so had Tibullus; Catullus, half a\ncentury; Propertius, some twenty years; Horace and M\u00e6cenas, about\nas long. The grateful master of the _curiosa felicitas verborum_\nhad followed in three weeks to--not the grave, indeed, but--the\nurn, the patron whom he had immortalized in the first of his odes,\nthe first of his epodes, the first of his satires, and the first of\nhis epistles; and the mighty sovereign upon whose youthful court\nthose three characters--a wise, mild, clement, yet firm minister, a\nglorious epic poet, and an unsurpassed lyrist--have reflected so much\nand such enduring lustre, had faithfully and unceasingly lamented\ntheir irreparable loss. Lucius Varius was the fashionable poet,\nthe laureate of the day; and M\u00e6cenas being removed, Tiberius sought\nto govern indirectly, as minister, all those matters which he did\nnot control directly and immediately, as one of the two C\u00e6sars whom\nAugustus had appointed. Velleius Paterculus, the cavalry colonel,\nor military tribune, (chiliarch,) a prosperous and accomplished\npatrician, was beginning to shine at once in letters and at the\ncourt. The grandson of Livia, grandson also of Augustus by his\nmarriage with her, but really grand-nephew of that emperor--we mean\nthe son of Antonia, the celebrated _Germanicus_, second and more\nworthy bearer of that surname--a youth full of fire and genius, and\ntingling with noble blood--was preparing to atone for the disgraces\nand to repair the disasters which Quintilius Varus, one year before,\namidst the uncleared forests of Germany, had brought upon the\nimperial arms and the Roman name. Germanicus, indeed, was about to\nfulfil the more important part of a celebrated classic injunction;\nhe was going to do things worthy to be written, \"while the supple\ncourtier of all C\u00e6sars, Paterculus, was endeavoring to _write\nsomething worthy to be read_.\" Strabo had not long before commenced\nhis system of geography, which, for about thirty years yet to come,\nwas to engage his attention and dictate his travels. Livy, of the\n\"pictured page,\" who doubtless may be called, next to Tacitus, the\nmost eloquent without being set down as quite the most credulous\nof classic historians--I venture to say so, _pace Niebuhr_--was\nover sixty-eight years of age, but scarcely looked sixty. He was\neven then thoroughly and universally appreciated. No man living had\nreceived more genuine marks of honor--not even the emperor. His\nhundred and forty-two books of Roman history had filled the known\nworld with his praises, a glory which length of days allowed him\nfully to enjoy. Modern readers appreciate and admire the thirty-five\nbooks which alone are left, and linger over the beauties, _quasi\nstellis_, with which they shine. Yet who knows but these may be\namong the poorest productions of Livy's genius? A very simple sum in\narithmetic would satisfy an actuary that we must have lost the most\nvaluable emanations of the Paduan's great mind. Given a salvage of\nfive-and-thirty out of a hundred and forty-two, and yet the whole of\nthis wreck so marvellous in beauty! surely that which is gone for\never must have included much that is equal, probably something far\nsuperior to what time has spared.\n\nThere is a curious fact recorded by Pliny the younger, which speaks\nfor itself. A Spaniard of Cadiz had, only some five months before\nthe date of our story, journeyed from the ends of the earth to Rome\nmerely to obtain a sight of Livy. There were imperial shows in the\nforum and hippodrome and circus at the time; there were races on\nfoot, and on horseback, and in chariots; fights there were of all\nkinds--men against wild animals, men against each other; with the\nsword, with the deadly cestus; wrestling matches, and the dreadful\nbattles of gladiators, five hundred a side; in short, all the glitter\nand the glories and the horrors of the old classic arena in its\nculminating days. There was also a strange new Greek fence, since\ninherited by Naples, and preserved all through the middle ages down\nto this hour, with the straight, pliant, three-edged rapier, to\nwitness which even ladies thronged with interest and partisanship.\nBut the Spaniard from Gades (Cervantes might surely have had such an\nancestor) asked only to be shown Titus Livius. Which in yonder group\nis Livy? The wayfarer cared for nothing else that Roman civilization\nor Roman vanity could show him. The great writer was pointed out, and\nthen the traveller, having satisfied the motive which had brought\nhim to Rome, went back to Ostia, where his lugger, if I may so call\nit, lay, (I picture it a kind of \"wing-and-wing\" rigged vessel;)\nand, refusing to profane his eyes with any meaner spectacle, set\nsail again for Spain, where his youth had been illumined with the\nvisions presented to a sympathetic imagination by the most charming\nof classical historians. The Spaniards from an immemorial age are\ndeemed to have been heroes and appreciators of heroes; and no doubt\nthis literary pilgrim, once more at home, recurred many a time, long\npondering, to the glorious deeds of the _Fabia Gens_.\n\nHow many other similar examples Livy may have recorded for him we\nmoderns cannot say. Before his gaze arose the finished column from\nthe fragments whereof we have gathered up some scattered bricks and\nmarbles. Niebuhr had to deal with a ruin, and he who ought to have\nguessed at and reconstructed the plan of it, has contented himself\nwith trying to demolish its form.\n\nLong previously to the date of our tale, Augustus, trembling\nunder the despotism of his wife Livia, had begun to repeat those\nlamentations (with which scholars are familiar) for the times\nwhen M\u00e6cenas had guided his active day, and Virgil and Horace had\nbeguiled his lettered evenings. Virgil, as is well known, had been\ntormented with asthma, and ought possibly to have lived much longer\nbut for some unrecorded imprudence. Horace, as is likewise well\nknown, had been tormented with sore eyelids--and with wine; he was\n\"blear-eyed,\" (_lippus_.) Augustus, therefore, used to say wittily,\nas he placed them on each hand of him at the _symposium_, which had\nbeen recently borrowed in Italy from the Greeks, but had not yet\ndegenerated into the debauchery and extravagance into which they\nafterward sank more and more deeply during successive reigns, \"I sit\nbetween sighs and tears.\" _In suspiriis sedeo et in lachrymis._ But\nhe had long lost these so-called sighs and tears at either hand of\nhim. The sighs and tears were now his own.\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nOur chronicle commences in Campania, with the Tyrrhenian Sea (now the\nsoutherly waters of the Gulf of Genoa) on a traveller's left hand if\nhe looks north. It was a fair evening in autumn, as we have remarked,\nduring that age and state of the world the broad outlines of which we\nhave briefly given. Along the Appian, or, as it long afterward came\nto be also called, the Trajan Way, the queen of roads, a conveyance\ndrawn by two horses, a carriage of the common hackney description,\nnot unlike one species of the _vettura_ used by the modern Italians,\nwas rolling swiftly northward between the stage of Minturn\u00e6 and\nthe next stage, which was a lonely post-house a few miles south of\nthe interesting town of Formi\u00e6--not _Forum Appii_, or the _Three\nTaverns_, a place more than fifty miles away in the direction of\nRome, and upon the same road.\n\nInside the carriage were a lady in middle life, whose face, once\nlovely, was still sweet and charming, and a very pale, beautiful\nfemale child, each dressed in a black _ricinium_,[2] or mourning\nrobe, drawn over the top of the head. The girl was about twelve\nyears old, or a little more, and seemed to be suffering much and\ngrievously. She faced the horses, and on her side sat the lady\nfanning her and watching her with a look which always spoke love,\nand now and again anguish. Opposite to them, with his back to the\nhorses, wearing a sort of dark _lacerna_, or thin, light great-coat,\nof costly material, but of a fashion which was deemed in Italy at\nthat day either foreign or vulgar, as the case might be, sat a youth\nof about eighteen. The child was leaning back with her eyes closed.\nThe youth, as he watched her, sighed now and then. At last he put\nboth hands to his face, and, leaning his head forward, suffered tears\nto flow silently through his fingers. The _lacerna_ which he wore was\nfastened at the breast by two _fibul\u00e6_, or clasps of silver, and girt\nround his waist with a broad, brown, sheeny leather belt, stamped\nand traced after some Asiatic mode. In a loop of this belt, at his\nleft side, was secured within its black scabbard an unfamiliar,\noutlandish-looking, long, straight, three-edged sword, which he had\npulled round so as to rest the point before his feet, bringing the\nblade between his knees, and the hilt, which was gay with emeralds,\nin front of his chest.\n\nThe Romans still very generally went bare-headed,[3] even out of\ndoors, except that those who continued to wear the toga drew it over\ntheir heads as the weather needed, and those who wore the _penula_\nused the hood of it in the same way. But upon the hilt of the sword\nwe have described the youth had flung a sort of _petasus_, or\ndeep-rimmed hat, with a flat top, and one black feather at the side,\nnot stuck perpendicularly into the band, but so trained half round\nit as to produce a reckless, rakish effect, of which the owner was\nunconscious.\n\n\"Agatha,\" said the lady, in a low, tender voice, the delicate Greek\nring of which was full of persuasion, \"look up, beloved child!\nYour brother and I, at least, are left. Think no more of the past.\nThe gods have taken your father, after men had taken his and your\ninheritance. But our part in life is not yet over. Did not your\nparents too, in times past--did not we too, I say, lose ours? Did you\nnot know you were probably to live longer than your poor father? Are\nyou not to survive me also? Perhaps soon.\"\n\nWith a cry of dismay the young girl threw her arms round the lady's\nneck and sobbed. The other, while she shed tears, exclaimed:\n\n\"I thank that unknown power, of whom Dionysius the Athenian, my\nyoung countryman, so sublimely speaks, that the child weeps at last!\nWeep, Agatha, weep; but mourn not mute in the cowardice of despair!\nMourn not for your father in a way unbecoming of his child and mine.\nMourn not as though indeed you were not ours. My husband is gone\nfor ever, but he went in honor. The courageless grief, that canker\nwithout voice or tears, which would slay his child, will not bring\nback to me the partner of my days, nor to you your father. We must\nnot dishearten but cheer your brother Paulus for the battle which is\nbefore him.\"\n\n\"I wish to do so, my mother,\" said Agatha.\n\n\"When I recover my rights,\" broke in the youth at this point, \"my\nfather will come and sit among the _lares_, round the ever-burning\nfire in the _atrium_ of our hereditary house, Agatha; and therefore\ncourage! You are ill; but Charicles, the great physician of Tiberius\nC\u00e6sar, is our countryman, and he will attend you. He can cure almost\nany thing, they say. And if you feel fatigued, no wonder, so help me!\n_Minime mirum mehercle!_ Have we not travelled without intermission,\nby land and by sea, all the way from Thrace? But now, one more change\nof horses brings us to Formi\u00e6, and then we shall be at our journey's\nend. Meantime, dear child, look up; see yonder woods, and the\ngarden-like shore.\"\n\nAnd having first tried in vain to brighten the horn window at the\nside of the vehicle, _specular corneum_, (glass was used only in the\nprivate carriages of the rich,) he stood up, and calling over the\nhide roof of the carriage, which was open in front--the horses being\ndriven from behind--he ordered the _rhedarius_, or coachman, to open\nthe panels. The man, evidently a former slave of the family, now\ntheir freedman, quickly obeyed, and descending from his bench, pushed\nback into grooves contrived to receive them the coarsely-figured and\ngaudily colored sides of the travelling _carruca_.\n\n\"Is _parvula_ better?\" he then cried, with the privileged\nfreedom of an old and attached domestic, or of one who, in the\nfar more endearing parlance of classic times, was a faithful\n_familiaris_--that is, a member of the family. \"Is the little one\nbetter? The dust is laid now, little one; the evening comes; the\nlight slants; the sun smiles not higher than yourself, instead of\nburning overhead. See, the beautiful country! See, the sweet land!\nLet the breeze bring a bloom to your cheeks, as it brings the\nperfumes to your mouth. Ah! the _parvula_ smiles. Fate is not always\nangry!\"\n\n\"Dear old Philip!\" said the child; and then, turning to her mother,\nshe added,\n\n\"Just now, mother, you waked me from a frightful dream. I thought\nthat the man who has our father's estates was dead; but he came from\nthe dead, and was trying to kill Paulus, my brother there; and for\nthat purpose was striving to wrest the sword from Paulus's hand;\nand that the man, or _lar_, laughed in a hideous manner, and cried\nout, 'It is with his own sword we will slay him! Nothing but his own\nsword!'\"\n\nThe old freedman turned pale, and muttered something to himself, as\nhe stood by the side of the vehicle; and while he kept the horses\nsteady, with the long reins in his left hand, glanced awfully toward\nPaulus.\n\n\"Brother,\" continued the child, \"I forget that man's name. What _is_\nthe name?\"\n\n\"Never mind the name now,\" said Paulus; \"a dead person cannot kill a\nliving one; and that man is not in Italy who will kill me with my own\nsword, if I be not asleep. Look at the beautiful land! See, as Philip\ntells you, the beautiful land where you are going to be so happy.\"\n\nThe river Liris, now the Garigliano, flowed all gold in the western\nsun; some dozen of meadows behind them, between rows of linden-trees,\noleanders, and pomegranates, with laurel, bay, and long bamboo-like\nreeds of the _arundo donax_, varying the rich beauty of its banks:\n\"_Daphrones, platanones, et a\u00ebri\u00e6 cyparissi._\" A thin and irregular\nforest of great contemplative trees; flowerless and sad beech,\ncornel, alder, ash, hornbeam, and yew towered over savannahs of\nscented herbs, and glades of many-tinted grasses. Some clumps of\nchestnut-trees, hereafter to spread into forests, but then rare,\nand cultivated as we cultivate oranges and citrons, stood proudly\napart. A vegetation, which has partly vanished, gave its own physical\naspect to an Italy the social conditions of which have vanished\naltogether; and were even then passing, and about to pass, through\ntheir last appearances. But much also that we in our days have seen,\nboth there and elsewhere, was there then. The flower or blossom of\nthe pomegranate lifted its scarlet light amidst vines and olives;\nmiles of oleander trees waved their masses of flame under the tender\ngreen filigree of almond groves, and seemed to laugh in scorn at the\nmourning groups of yew, and the bowed head of the dark, widow-like,\nand inconsolable cypress. All over the leaves of the woods autumn\nhad strewn its innumerable hues. In the west, the sky was hung with\nthose glories which no painter ever reproduced and no poet ever sang;\nit was one of the sunsets which make all persons of sensibility who\ncontemplate them dumb, by making all that can be said of them worse\nthan useless. A magnificent and enormous villa, or _castellum_, or\ncountry mansion--palace it seemed--showed parts of its walls, glass\nwindows, and Ionic columns, through the woods on the banks of the\nLiris; and upon the roof of this palace a great company of gilt,\ntinted, and white statues, much larger than life, in various groups\nand attitudes, as they conversed, lifted their arms, knelt, prayed,\nstooped, stood up, threatened, and acted, were glittering above the\ntree-tops in the many-colored lights of the setting sun.\n\n\"Ah! let us stop; let us rest a few moments,\" cried the child,\nsmiling through her tears at the smiles of nature and the enchanting\nbeauty of the scene; \"only a few moments under the great trees,\nmother.\"\n\nIt was a group of chestnuts, a few yards from the side of the road;\nand beneath them came to join the highway through the meadows, and\nvineyards, and forest-land, a broad beaten track from the direction\nof the splendid villa that stood on the Liris.\n\nPaulus instantly sprang from the _carruca_, and, having first helped\nhis mother to alight, took his sister in his arms and placed her\nsitting under the green shade. A Thracian woman, a slave, descended\nmeantime from the box, and the driver drew his vehicle to the side of\nthe highway.\n\nWhile they thus reposed, with no sound about them, as they thought,\nsave the rustle of the leaves, the distant ripple of the waters, and\nthe vehement shrill call of the cicala, hidden in the grass somewhere\nnear, their destinies were coming. The freedman suddenly held up his\nhand, and drew their attention by that peculiar sound through the\nteeth, (_st_,) which in all nations signifies _listen!_\n\nAnd, indeed, a distant, dull, vague noise was now heard southward,\nand seemed to increase and approach along the Appian road. Every\neye in our little group of travellers was turned in the direction\nmentioned, and they could see a white cloud of dust coming swiftly\nnorthward. Soon they distinguished the tramp of many horses at the\ntrot. Then, over the top of a hill which had intercepted the view,\ncame the gleam of arms, filling the whole width of the way, and\nadvancing like a torrent of light. The ground trembled; and, headed\nby a troop or two of Numidian riders, and then a couple of troops\nor _turm\u00e6_ of Batavian cavalry, a thousand horse, at least, of the\nPr\u00e6torian Guards, arrayed, as usual, magnificently, swept along in\na column two hundred deep, with a rattle and ring of metal rising\ntreble upon the ear over the continuous bass of the beating hoofs, as\nthe foam floats above the roll of the waves.\n\nThe young girl was at once startled from the sense of sickness and\ngrief, and gazed with big eyes at the pageant. Six hundred yards\nfurther on a trumpet-note, clear and long, gave some sudden signal,\nand the whole body instantly halted. From a detached group in the\nrear an officer now rode toward the front; a loud word or two of\ncommand was heard, a slight movement followed, and then, as if the\ncolumn were some monstrous yellow-scaled serpent with an elastic\nneck and a black head, the swarthy troops which had led the advance\nwheeled slowly backward, two instead of five abreast, while the main\ncolumn simultaneously stretched itself forward on a narrower face,\nand with a deeper file, occupying thus less than half the width of\nthe road, which they had before nearly filled, and extending much\nfurther onward. Meantime the squadrons which had led it continued\nto defile to the rear; and when their last rank had passed the last\nof those fronting in the opposite direction, they suddenly faced to\ntheir own right, and, standing like statues, lined the way on the\nside opposite to that where our travellers were reposing, but some\nforty or fifty yards higher up the road, or more north.\n\nIn front of the line of horsemen, who, after wheeling back, had been\nthus faced to their own right, or the proper left of the line of\nmarch, was now collected a small group of mounted officers. One of\nthem wore a steel corselet, a casque of the same metal, with a few\nshort black feathers in its crest, and the _chlamys_, or a better\nsort of _sagum_, the scarlet mantle of a military tribune, over\na black tunic, upon which two broad red stripes or ribbons were\ndiagonally sewn. This costume denoted him one of the _Laticlavii_, or\nbroad-ribboned tribunes; in other words--although, to judge by the\nmassive gold ring which glittered on the forefinger of his bridle\nhand, he might have been originally and personally only a knight--he\nhad received either from the emperor, or from one of the two C\u00e6sars\nthen governing with and under Augustus, the senatorial rank.\n\nThe chlamys was fastened across the top of his chest with a silver\nclasp, and the tunic a little lower down with another, both being\nopen below as far as the waist, and disclosing a tight-fitting\nchain-mail corselet, or shirt of steel rings. The chlamys was\notherwise thrown loose over his shoulders, but the tunic was belted\nround the corselet at his waist by a buff girdle, wherein hung the\nintricately-figured brass scabbard of a straight, flat, not very\nlong cut-and-thrust sword, which he now held drawn in his right\nhand. In his belt were stuck a pair of _manic\u00e6_ or _chirothec\u00e6_, as\ngloves were called, which seemed to be made of the same material as\nthe girdle; buffalo-skin greaves on his legs and half-boots (the\n_calcei_, not the _sole\u00e6_ or sandals) completed his dress. He was a\nhandsome man, about five-and-thirty years old, brown hair, an open\nbut thoughtful face, and an observant eye. He it was who had ridden\nto the front, and given those orders the execution of which we have\nnoticed. He had now returned, and kept his horse a neck or so behind\nthat of an officer far more splendidly attired, who seemed to pay no\nattention whatever to the little operation that had occurred, but,\nshading his eyes with one hand from the rays of the setting sun,\ngazed over the fields toward the villa or mansion on the Liris.\n\nHe was clad in the _paludamentum_, the long scarlet cloak of\na _legatus_ or general, the borders being deeply fringed with\ntwice-dyed Tyrian purple, (_Tyria bis tincta_, or _dibapha_, as it is\ncalled by Pliny;) the long folds of which flowed over his charger's\nhaunches. This magnificent mantle was buckled round the wearer's neck\nwith a jewel. His corselet, unlike that of the colonel or tribune\nalready mentioned, was of plate-steel, (instead of rings,) and shone\nlike a looking-glass, except where it was inlaid with broad lines of\ngold. He wore a chain of twisted gold round his neck, and his belt\nas well as the hilt of his sword, which remained undrawn by his side\nin a silver scabbard, glittered with sardonyx and jasper stones. He\nhad no tunic. His gloves happening, like those of his subordinate,\nto be thrust into the belt round his waist, left visible a pair of\nhands so white and delicate as to be almost effeminate. His helmet\nwas thin steel, and the crest was surmounted by a profuse plume of\nscarlet cock's feathers. But perhaps the most curious particular of\nhis costume was a pair of shoes or half-boots of red leather, the\npoints of the toes turned upward. These boots were encrusted with\ngems, which formed the patrician crescent, or letter C, on the top of\neach foot, and then wandered into a fanciful tracery of sparkles up\nthe leg. The _staped\u00e6_, or stirrups, in which his feet rested, were\neither of gold or gilt.\n\nThe countenance of the evidently important personage whose dress\nhas been stated was remarkable. He had regular features, a handsome\nstraight nose, eyes half closed with what seemed at first a languid\nlook, but yet a look which, if observed more closely, was almost\nstartling from the extreme attention it evinced, and from the\ncontrast between such an expression and the indolent indifference\nor superciliousness upon the surface, if I may so say, of the\nphysiognomy. There was something sinister and cruel about the\nmouth. He wore no whiskers or beard, but a black, carefully-trimmed\nmoustache.\n\nAfter a steady gaze across the fields in the direction we have\nalready more than once mentioned, he half turned his head toward\nthe tribune, and at the same time, pointing to our travellers, said\nsomething. The tribune, in his turn, addressed the first centurion,\n(_dux legionis_,) an officer whose sword, like that of the legatus,\nwas undrawn, but who carried in his right hand a thin wand made\nof vine-wood. In an instant this officer turned his horse's head\nand trotted smartly toward our travellers, upon reaching whom he\naddressed Paulus thus:\n\n\"Tell me, I pray you, have you been long here?\"\n\n\"Not a quarter of an hour,\" answered Paulus, wondering why such a\nquestion was asked.\n\n\"And have any persons passed into the road by this pathway?\" the\ncenturion then inquired.\n\n\"Not since we came,\" said Paulus.\n\nThe officer thanked him and trotted back.\n\nMeanwhile, Paulus and his mother and the freedman Philip had not\nbeen so absorbed in watching the occurrence and scene just described\nas to remove their eyes for more than a moment at a time from their\ndearly-loved charge, the interesting little mourner who had begged\nto be allowed to rest under the chestnut-trees. It was not so with\nAgatha herself. The child was at once astonished, bewildered, and\nenraptured. Had the spectacle and review before her been commanded\nby some monarch, or rather some magician, on purpose to snatch\nher from the possibility of dwelling longer amidst the gloom, the\nregrets, and the terrors under which she had appeared to be sinking,\nneither the wonder of the spectacle, nor the amenity of the evening\nwhen it occurred, nor the loveliness of the landscape which formed\nits theatre, could have been more opportunely combined. She had not\nonly never beheld any thing so magnificent, but her curiosity was\nviolently aroused.\n\nPaulus exchanged with his mother and the old freedman a glance of\nintelligence and of intense satisfaction, as they both noted the\nparted lips and dilated eyes with which the child, half an hour\nago so alarmingly ill, contemplated the drama at which she was\naccidentally assisting.\n\n\"_That's a rare doctor_,\" whispered Philip, pointing to the general\nof the Pr\u00e6torian Guards.\n\n\"No doctor,\" replied Paulus in the same low tones, \"could have\nprescribed for our darling better.\"\n\n\"Paulus,\" said Agatha, \"what are these mighty beings? Are these the\ngenii, and the demons of the mistress-land, the gods of Italy?\"\n\n\"They are a handful of Italy's troops, dear,\" he said.\n\nShe looked from her brother to the lady, and then to the freedman,\nand this last, with a healing instinct which would have done honor\nto Hippocrates, began to stimulate her interest by the agency of\nsuspense and mystery.\n\n\"Master Paulus, and Lady Aglais, and my little one too,\" he said, in\na most impressive and solemn voice, \"these be the genii and these be\nthe demons indeed; but I tell you that you have not yet seen all the\nsecret. _Something is going to happen._ Attend to me well! You behold\na most singular thing! Are you aware of what you behold? Yonder,\nMaster Paulus, is the allotted portion of horse for more than three\nlegions: the _justus equitatus_, I say, for a Roman army of twenty\nthousand men. Yes, I attest all the gods,\" continued Philip in a low\nvoice, but with great earnestness, and glancing from the brother to\nthe sister as if his prospects in life were contingent upon his being\nbelieved in this. \"I was at the battle of Philippi, and I aver that\nyonder is more than the right allotment of horse for three legions.\nObserve the squadrons, the _turm\u00e6_; they do not consist of the same\narm; and instead of being distributed in bodies of three or four\nhundred each to a legion, they are all together before you without\ntheir legions. Why is that, Master Paulus?\"\n\n\"I know not,\" said Paulus.\n\n\"Ah!\" resumed the freedman, \"you know not, but you _will_ know\npresently. Mark that, little Mistress Agatha, and bear in mind that\nPhilip the freedman has said to your brother that he will know all\npresently.\"\n\nThe child gazed wonderingly at the troops as she heard these\nmysterious words. \"Who are those?\" asked she, pointing to the\nsquadrons of those still in column. \"Who are those in leather\njerkins, covered with the iron scales, and riding the large, heavy\nhorses?\"\n\n\"Batavians from the mouths of the Rhine and the Scheldt,\" answered\nthe freedman, with a mysterious shake of the head.\n\n\"And those,\" pursued she, with increasing interest; \"who are those\nwhose faces shine like dusky copper, and whose eyes glitter like the\neyes of the wild animals in the arena, when the proconsul of Greece\ngives the shows? I mean those who ride the small, long-tailed horses\nwithout any _ephippia_ (saddle-cloths,) and even without bridles--the\nsoldiers in flowing dress, with rolls of linen round their heads?\"\n\n\"They are the Numidians,\" replied Philip. \"Ah! Rome dreaded those\nhorsemen once, when Hannibal the Carthaginian and his motley hordes\nhad their will in these fair plains.\"\n\nAs he spoke, a strange movement occurred. The general or _legatus_\ndismounted, and, giving the bridle of his horse to a soldier, began\nto walk slowly up and down the side of the road. No sooner had his\nfoot touched the ground than the whole of the Numidian squadron\nseemed to rise like a covey out of a stubble field; with little clang\nof arms, but with one short, sharp cry, or whoop, it burst from\nthe high road into the meadow land. There the evolutions which they\nperformed seemed at first to be all confusion, only for the fact\nthat, although the horsemen had the air of riding capriciously in\nevery direction, crossing, intermingling, separating, galloping upon\nopposite curves, and tracing every figure which the whim and fancy\nof each might dictate, yet no two of them ever came into collision.\nIndeed, fantastic and wild as that rhapsody of man\u0153uvres into\nwhich they had broken appeared to be, some principle which was\nthoroughly understood by every one of them governed their mazy\ngallop. It was as accurate and exact as some stately dance of slaves\nat the imperial court. It was, in short, itself a wild dance of\nthe Numidian cavalry, in which their reinless horses, guided only\nby the flashing blades and the voices of their riders, manifested\nthe most vehement spirit and a sort of sympathetic frenzy. These\nsteeds, which never knew the bridle, and went thus mouth-free even\ninto battle--these horses, which their masters turned loose at night\ninto the fields, and which came back bounding and neighing at the\nfirst call, were now madly plunging, wheeling, racing, and charging,\nlike gigantic dogs at sport. Presently they began to play a strange\nspecies of leap-frog. A Numidian boy, who carried a trumpet and rode\na pony, or at least a horse smaller and lower than the rest of the\nbarbs, (\"Berber horses,\") suddenly halted upon the outside of the\nmad cavalry whirlpool which had been formed, and flung himself flat\nat full length upon the back of the diminutive animal. Instantly the\nwhirl, as it circled toward him, straightened itself into a column,\nand every horseman rode full upon the stationary pony, and cleared\nboth steed and rider at a bound, a torrent of cavalry rushing over\nthe obstruction with wild shouts.\n\n\"That is Numidian sport, Master Paulus,\" said the freedman; \"but\nthere is not a rider among them to be compared to yourself.\"\n\n\"Certainly I can ride,\" said the youth; \"but I pretend not to be\nsuperior to these Centaurs.\"\n\n\"Be these, then, the Centaurs I have heard of?\" asked Agatha; \"be\nthese the wild powers?\"\n\nThe hubbub had prevented her, and all with her, from noticing\nsomething. Before an answer could be given, the Numidians had\nreturned to the highway as suddenly as they had quitted it, and the\nnoise of their dance was succeeded by a pause of attention. The\ngeneral was again on horseback, and our travellers perceived that\ntwo litters, one of carved ivory and gold, the other of sculptured\nbronze, borne on the shoulders of slaves, were beside them.\n\nTwo gentlemen on foot had arrived with the litters along the broad\npathway already noticed, and a group of attendants at a little\ndistance were following.\n\nThis new party were now halting with our travellers beneath the\nfar-spreading shade of the same trees. In the ivory litter reclined\na girl of about seventeen, dressed in a long _palla_ of blue silk,\na material then only just introduced from India, through Arabia\nand Egypt, and so expensive as to be beyond the reach of any but\nthe richest class. Her hair, which was of a bright gold color,\nwas dressed in the fashionable form of a helmet, (_galerus_,) and\nwas inclosed behind in a gauze net. She wore large _inaures_, or\near-rings, of some jewel, a gold chain, in every ring of which was\nset a gem, and scarlet shoes embroidered with pearls. The lady in\nthe bronze litter was attired in the _stola_ of a matron, with a\n_cyclas_, or circular robe, thrown back from the neck, and a tunic\nof dark purple which descended to her feet. Her brown hair was\nrestrained by bands, _vitt\u00e6_, which had an honorable significance\namong the Roman ladies, (\"_Nil mihi cum vitta_,\" says the profligate\nauthor of the _Ars Amandi_.) She seemed somewhat past thirty years of\nage; she had a very sweet, calm, and matronly air; her countenance\nwas as beautiful in features and general effect as it was modest in\nits tone and character.\n\nHer companion,[4] in the litter of ivory and gold, was not more\nthan half her age, was even more beautiful, with an immense wreath\nof golden hair, and with large blue eyes, darkening to the likeness\nof black as she gazed earnestly upon any object. But she had a\nless gentle physiognomical expression. Frequently her look was\npenetrating, brief, impatient, sarcastic, disdainful. She had a\nbewitching smile, however, and her numerous admirers made Italy echo\nwith their ravings.\n\nLucius Varius, said the fashionable world, was at that very time\nengaged upon a kind of sapphic ode, of which she was to be the\nsubject.\n\nScarcely had these litters or palanquins arrived and halted, when\nthe general officer dismounted once more, and walked quickly toward\nthe spot with his helmet in his hand. At a few yards' distance he\nstopped, and first bowed low to the elder of the two gentlemen who\nhad accompanied the litters on foot, and then, almost entirely\ndisregarding the other gentleman, made an obeisance not quite so long\nor so deep to the ladies. The man whom so splendid a personage as the\nlegatus, wearing his flaming paludamentum, and at the head of his\ntroops, thus treated with so obsequious a veneration, did not return\nthe salute except by a slight nod and a momentary, absent-minded\nsmile. His gaze had been riveted upon our travellers, and chiefly\nupon the youth and his young, suffering sister, upon both of whom,\nafter it had quickly taken in Philip the freedman, the Thracian\nwoman, and the Athenian lady, it rested long--longest and last upon\nAgatha.\n\n\"Sejanus,\" said he finally, \"who are these?\"\n\n\"I never saw them until just now, my commander and C\u00e6sar; they were\nhere when we halted, and while we waited for our master, the favorite\nof the gods, these travellers seemed to be resting where you behold\nthem.\"\n\n\"As those gods favor me,\" said the other, \"this is a fine youth.\nCan we not _edit_[5] him? And yonder girl--have you ever seen, my\nSejanus, such eyes? But she is deadly pale. Are you always thus pale,\npretty one, or are you merely ill? If but ill, as I guess, Charicles,\nmy Greek physician, shall cure you.\"\n\nBefore this man had even spoken, the moment, indeed, when first his\neyes fell upon her, Agatha had sidled close to her mother; and while\nhe was expressing himself in that way to Sejanus, she returned his\ngaze with panic-stricken, dilated eyes, as the South American bird\nreturns that of the reptile; but when he directly questioned her,\nshe, reaching out her hand to Paulus, clutched his arm with a woman's\ngrasp, and said in an affrighted voice,\n\n\"My brother, let us go.\"\n\nPaulus, in a manner naturally easy, and marked by the elegance and\ngrace which the athletic training of Athens had given to one so\nwell endowed physically, first, merely saying to the stranger, \"I\ncrave your pardon,\" (_veniam posco_,) lifted Agatha with one arm,\nand placed her in the travelling carriage. Then, while the freedman\nand the Thracian slave mounted to their bench, he returned to where\nhis mother stood, signed to her to follow Agatha, and, seeing her\nmove calmly but quickly toward the vehicle, he took the broad-rimmed\n_petasus_ from his head, and bowing slowly and lowly to the stranger,\nsaid,\n\n\"Powerful sir, for I observe you are a man of great authority, my\nsister is too ill to converse. You rightly guessed this; permit us to\ntake her to her destination.\"\n\nThe man whom he had thus balked, and to whom he now thus spoke,\nmerits a word of description. He appeared to be more than fifty years\nold. The mask of his face and the frame of his head were large, but\nnot fat. His complexion was vivid brick-red all over the cheeks, with\na deeper flush in one spot on each side, just below the outer corners\nof the eyes. The eyes were bloodshot, large, rather prominent, and\nwere closely set together. The nose was large, long, bony, somewhat\naquiline. The forehead was not high, not low; it was much developed\nabove the eyes, and it was broad. A deep and perpetual dint just over\nthe nose reached half-way up the forehead. His hair was grizzled and\nclose cut. His lips were full and fleshy, and the mouth was wide; the\njaws were large and massive. His face was shaven of all hair. The\nchin was very handsome and large, and the whole head was set upon a\nthick, strong throat, not stunted, however, of its proper length.\nIn person this man was far from ungainly, nor yet was he handsome.\nIn carriage and bearing, without much majesty, he had nevertheless\nsomething steadfast, weighty, unshrinking, and commanding. His\nouter garment, not a toga, was all one color and material; it was a\nlong, thick wadded silk mantle, of that purple dye which is nearly\nblack--the hue, indeed, of clotted gore under a strong light. He wore\ngloves, and instead of the usual short sword of the Romans, had a\nlong steel stylus[6] for writing on wax thrust into a black leathern\nbelt. This instrument seemed to show that he lived much in Rome,\nwhere it was not the custom, when otherwise in civilian dress, to go\narmed.\n\nAs the reader will have guessed, this man was to be the next emperor\nof the Roman world.\n\n\"Permit you to take her to her destination?\" he repeated slowly. \"My\nGreek physician, I tell you, shall cure her. I will give directions\nabout your destination.\" A slight pause; then, \"Are you a Roman\ncitizen?\"\n\n\"I am a Roman knight as well as citizen,\" answered Paulus proudly;\n\"and my family is not only equestrian, but patrician.\"\n\n\"What is your name?\"\n\n\"Paulus \u00c6milius Lepidus.\"\n\nThe man in the black or gore-colored purple glanced at Sejanus, who,\nstill unconcerned, stood with his splendid helmet in the left hand,\nwhile he smoothed his moustache with the right; otherwise perfectly\nstill, his handsome face, cruel mouth, and intelligent eyes all alive\nwith the keenest attention.\n\n\"And the destination to which you allude is--?\" pursued the man in\nblack purple.\n\n\"Formi\u00e6,\" said Paulus.\n\n\"What relation or kinship exists between you and Marcus \u00c6milius\nLepidus, formerly the triumvir, who still enjoys the life which he\nowes to the clemency of Augustus?\"\n\nPaulus hesitated. When he had given his name, the younger of the\ntwo ladies had raised herself suddenly in the litter of ivory and\ngold, and fastened upon him a searching gaze, which she had not\nsince removed. The other lady had also at that instant looked at\nhim fixedly. We have already stated that, when Sejanus approached\nthe group, he had not deigned in any very cordial manner to salute\nor notice the second of the two gentlemen who had accompanied the\nlitters on foot. This gentleman was very sallow, had hollow eyes, and\na habit of gnawing his under lip between his teeth. He had unbuckled\nhis sword, and had given it, calling out, \"_Lygdus, carry this_,\" to\na man with an exceedingly sinister and repulsive countenance. The man\nin question had now taken a step or two forward, and was standing on\nthe left of Paulus, fronting the C\u00e6sar, his shoulders stooping, his\nneck bent forward, his eyes without any motion of the head rolling\nincessantly from person to person, and face to face, but at once\nfalling before and avoiding any glance which happened to meet his. He\nlooked askant and furtively at every object with an eager, unhappy,\nand malign expression. Paulus did not need to turn his head to feel\nthat this man was now intently peering at him. Behind the two courtly\npalanquins, and beyond the shade of the trees, was a third litter\nstill more costly, being covered in parts with plate gold. Here sat\na woman with a face as white as alabaster, and large prominent black\neyes, watching the scene, and apparently trying to catch every word\nthat was said.\n\nPaulus, as we have observed, hesitated. The training of youth in\nthe days of classic antiquity soon obliterated the inferiority of\nunreasoning, nervous shyness. But the strange catechism which Paulus\nwas now undergoing, with all this gaze upon him from so many eyes,\nbegan to be a nuisance, and to tell upon a spirit singularly high.\n\n\"Have you heard my question?\" inquired Tiberius.\n\n\"I have heard it,\" replied Paulus; \"and have heard and answered\nseveral others, without knowing who he is that asks them. However,\nthe former triumvir, now living at Circ\u00e6i, about forty thousand paces\nfrom here, is my father's brother.\" (Circ\u00e6i, as the reader knows, is\nnow called Monte Circello, a promontory just opposite Gaeta.)\n\nWhen Paulus had given his last answer, the ladies glanced at each\nother, and the younger looked long and hard at Tiberius. Getting some\nmomentary signal from him, she threw herself back in her palanquin\nand smiled meaningly at the stooping, sinister-faced man, who had\nstationed himself in the manner already mentioned near Paulus's left\nhand.\n\n\"Your father,\" rejoined Tiberius, after a pause, \"was a very\ndistinguished soldier, and, as I always heard when a boy, he\ncontributed eminently to the victory of Philippi. But I knew not that\nhe had children; and, moreover, was he not slain, pray, at Philippi,\ntoward the end of the battle, which he certainly helped to gain?\"\n\n\"I hope,\" said Paulus, somewhat softened by the praise of his father,\n\"I hope that Augustus supposed him to have died of his wounds, and\nthat it was only under this delusion he gave our estates--which were\nsituated somewhere in this very province of Campania, with a noble\nmansion like the castellum upon the river yonder--to that brave and\nable soldier Agrippa Vespasianus.\"\n\nAt this name a deep red flush over-spread the brow of Tiberius, and\nPaulus innocently proceeded.\n\n\"Certainly, the noble Agrippa, who was to have been C\u00e6sar, had he\nlived, never would have accepted so unfair a bounty had he known that\nmy father really survived his wounds, but that--despairing of the\ngenerosity, or rather despairing of the equity of Augustus--he was\nliving a melancholy, exheridated exile, near that very battle-field\nof Philippi, in Thrace, where he had fought so well and had been left\nfor dead.\"\n\n\"You dare to term the act of Augustus,\" slowly said the man in the\ngore-colored purple cloak, \"_so unfair a bounty_, and Augustus\nhimself _ungenerous, or rather unjust_?\"\n\nAt this terrible rejoinder from such a man, the down-looking person\nwhom we have mentioned passed his right hand stealthily to the hilt\nof the sword which he was carrying for his master, and half drew it.\nPaulus, who for some time had had this person standing at his left,\ncould observe the action without turning his head. He was perfectly\naware, moreover, that, should the other draw his weapon upon him,\nthe very act of drawing it would itself become a blow, on account\nof their respective places, whereas to escape it required more\ndistance between them, and to parry it in a regular way would demand\nquite a different position, besides the needful moment or two for\ndisengaging his own rather long blade. Yet the youth stood completely\nstill; he never even turned his head. However, he just shifted the\nwide-rimmed hat from his left to his right hand (the hand for the\nsword) and thereby seemed to be only more encumbered, unprepared, and\ndefenceless than before. His left hand, with the back inward, fell\nalso meantime in an easy and natural way upon the emerald haft of the\noutlandish-looking three-edged rapier, which, as he played with it,\nbecame loose in the scabbard, and _came and went_ some fraction of an\ninch.\n\n\"I never termed him so,\" said Paulus. \"I said not this of Augustus. I\nam at this moment on my way to Augustus himself, who is, I am told,\nto be at Formi\u00e6 with his court for a week or two. I must, therefore,\nagain ask your leave, mighty office-bearer, to continue my journey. I\nknow not so much as who you are.\"\n\n\"I am Tiberius C\u00e6sar,\" said the other, bending upon him those\nclosely-set, prominent, bloodshot eyes with no very assuring\nexpression. \"I am Tiberius C\u00e6sar, and you will be pleased to wait one\nmoment before you continue the journey in question. The accusation\nagainst your father was this: that, after Philippi, he labored for\nthe interests first of Sextus, the son of Pompey, and afterward of\nMark Antony, in their respective impious and parricidal struggles;\nand the answer to this charge (a charge to which witnesses neither\nwere nor are wanting) has always been, that it was simply impossible,\nseeing that Paulus Lepidus, your father, perished at Philippi before\nthe alleged treasons had occurred. Wherefore, as your father had\ndone good service, especially in the great battle where he was thus\nsupposed to have fallen, not only was his innocence declared certain,\nbut, for his memory's sake, Marcus Lepidus, the triumvir, your uncle,\nwas forgiven. Yet now we learn from you, the son of the accused,\nthat the only defence ever made for him is positively false; that\nyour father, were he still living, would probably merit to be put to\ndeath; and that your uncle, at the same time, is stripped of the one\nprotecting circumstance which has preserved his head. I must order\nyour arrest, and that of all your party, in order that these things\nmay be at least fully investigated.\"\n\nAs this was said, the lady in the litter of ivory and gold\ncontemplated Paulus with that bewitching smile which she was\naccustomed to bestow upon dying gladiators in the hippodrome; while\nthe other lady gazed at him with a compassionate, forecasting and\nmuse-like look.\n\n\"I mean no disrespect whatever to so great a man as you, sir; but I\nwill,\" said Paulus, \"appeal from Tiberius C\u00e6sar to C\u00e6sar Augustus; to\nwhom, I again remind you, I am on my way.\"\n\nNo sooner had he uttered the words, \"I appeal from Tiberius,\" than,\nbefore he could finish the sentence, the malign-faced man on his left\nwith great suddenness drew the sword hew as carrying for Cneius Piso,\nand, availing himself of the first natural sweep of the weapon as it\nleft the scabbard, sought to bring the edge of it backward across\nthe face of Paulus, exclaiming, while he did so, \"_Speak you thus to\nC\u00e6sar?_\"\n\nHad this man, who was the future assassin of Drusus, and slave to\nCneius Piso, who was the future assassin of Germanicus, succeeded in\ndelivering that well-meant stroke, the sentence which our hero was\naddressing to Tiberius could never have been said out; but said out,\nas we see, it was, and said, too, with due propriety of emphasis,\nalthough with a singular accompanying delivery. In fact, though not\ndeigning to look round toward this man, Paulus had been vividly\naware of his movements, and, swift as was the attack, the defence\nwas truly electrical. Paulus's rapier, the hilt of which, as we have\nremarked, had been for some time in his left hand, leapt from its\nsheath, and being first held almost perpendicularly for one moment,\nthe point down and the hilt a little higher than his forehead, met\nthe murderous blow at right angles; after which the delicate long\nblade flashed upward, with graceful ease but irresistible violence,\nbearing the assassin's weapon backward upon a small semi-circle, and\nremaining inside of it, or, in other words, nearer to Lygdus's body\nthan Piso's own sword, which he carried, was. It looked like a mere\ncontinuation of this dazzling parry, but was, in truth, a vigorous\ndeviation from it, which none but a very pliant and powerful wrist\ncould have executed; when the emerald pommel fell like a hammer upon\nthe forehead of Lygdus the slave, whom that disdainful blow stretched\nat his length upon the ground, motionless, and to all appearance\ndead. As Piso was standing close, the steel guard of the hilt, in\npassing, tore open his brow and cheek.\n\nThe whole occurrence occupied only five or seven seconds, and\nmeanwhile the youth finished his sentence with the words already\nrecorded, \"From Tiberius C\u00e6sar to C\u00e6sar Augustus, to whom, I again\nremind you, I am on my way.\"\n\nAn exclamation of astonishment, and perhaps some other feeling,\nescaped from Tiberius. Sejanus smiled; the woman with the pale face\nand black eyes, who sat in the unadorned plate-of-gold palanquin,\nscreamed; and the other ladies laughed loudly. Among the pr\u00e6torian\nguards, who from the road were watching with attention the group\nwhere they saw their general and the C\u00e6sar, a long, low murmur of\napprobation ran. At this, Tiberius turned and looked steadily and\nmusingly toward them. Paulus, instantly sheathing his weapon, said,\n\n\"I ask C\u00e6sar's pardon, but there was no time to obtain his permission\nfor what I have just done. My head must have been in two pieces had I\nwaited but one moment.\"\n\n\"Just half a moment for each piece,\" said Tiberius; \"but your left\nhand seems well able to keep your head. Are you left-handed?\"\n\n\"No, great C\u00e6sar,\" said Paulus; \"I am what my Greek teacher of fence\nused to call two-handed, _dimach\u00e6rus_; he tried to make all his\npupils so, but my right remains far better than my left.\"\n\n\"Then I should like to see your right thoroughly exercised,\" said\nTiberius.\n\nPaulus heard a sweet voice here say, \"As a favor to me, do not\norder the arrest of this brave youth;\" and, turning, he beheld the\nbeautiful creature in the litter of ivory and gold plead for him with\nTiberius. The large blue eyes, darkening as she supplicated, smote\nthe youth, and he could hardly take away his gaze.\n\n\"Young man, go forward with your mother and sister to Formi\u00e6, under\nthe charge of Velleius Paterculus, the military tribune whom you see\nyonder upon the road. Remain in Formi\u00e6 till I give you leave to quit\nit. Report your place of residence to the tribune. Go!\"\n\nThe last word was pronounced harshly. Tiberius made a signal with his\nhand to Paterculus. Then passing his arm through that of Sejanus,\nand speaking to him in a low tone, he led the general aside into\nthe fields to a little distance; while--with the exception of two\nmounted troopers, (each leading a horse,) who remained behind, but\nconsiderably out of hearing--the pr\u00e6torian guards, the three litters,\nand the travelling _biga_ began to move toward Formi\u00e6, leaving the\nroad to silence, and the evening landscape to peace.\n\n    TO BE CONTINUED.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[2] Cicero, Legg. ii. 23.\n\n[3] Plutarch in Pompey. Seneca, Epis. 64.\n\n[4] Mother of Caligula, and grandmother of Nero, by her daughter\nAgrippina Julia.\n\n[5] To produce a gladiator in the arena was to _edit_ him.\n\n[6] Pliny, Epis. iii. 21.\n\n\n\n\nMARY QUEEN OF SCOTS.[7]\n\n\nThere is, after all, but slight exaggeration in the old saying, that\na lie travels leagues while truth is putting on boots to pursue and\novertake it. And even when overtaken, caught, and choked, how hard\nit dies! In our daily experience, how often does truthful exposure\nutterly extinguish false and evil report? Certainly not always, and\nprobably but very seldom. In the intercourse of society, one may\npartially crush out a calumny by going straight to those who should\nknow the truth and compelling them to listen to it.\n\nBut the lie historical cannot be so met. People in this busy world\nhave no time to spend in reading long documents in vindication of men\nor women long since dead. But they have read the calumny? Certainly.\nThe calumny is not so long as the refutation, and is more readable.\nIt is attractive; it is piquant. Mary Stuart as an adulteress and a\nmurderess is an interesting character. People never tire of hearing\nof her. But Mary Stuart, the upright queen, the noble and true\nwoman, the faithful spouse and affectionate mother, has but slight\nattractions for the mass of readers. To hear her so proven must be\ndull reading. Nevertheless, with time comes truth; for although\n\n    \"The mills of the gods grind slowly,\n    They grind exceedingly fine;\"\n\nwhich we take to be only a modern, heathenish way of saying, as we\nchant every Sunday at vespers,\n\n    \"_Et justitia ejus manet in seculum seculi._\"\n\nLook at the Galileo story. Galileo died more than two hundred years\nago. Yet it is only within a lifetime that the truth concerning him\nbegan to dawn upon the English mind.\n\nMary Queen of Scots surrendered her soul to God and her head\nto Elizabeth nearly three centuries ago, and the combat over\nher reputation to-day rages as hot as ever. In the case of the\nFlorentine astronomer, there has been no strongly decided hereditary\ntransmission of the falsehood. In that of the Queen of Scotland every\ninch of ground is obstinately fought, because her innocence means\nthe shame of England, the disgrace of Knox, the condemnation of the\nornaments of the Anglican and Puritan churches, and the infamy of\nElizabeth.\n\nThese enemies of Mary yet live in transmitted prejudices and powerful\nhereditary interests. The very existence of all the boasting, pride,\nfalse reputation, hypocritical piety, and national vanity represented\nby the familiar catchwords of \"Our Noble Harry,\" \"Glorious Queen\nBess,\" \"The Virgin Queen,\" \"Our Sainted Reformers,\" has its\ninspiration and life-breath in the maintenance of every calumny\nagainst Mary Stuart and the Catholic Church of that day; and we must\ndo these supporters the credit of admitting that they are instant in\nseason and out of season, and never weary in their work.\n\nBut their case was long since made up. They have said their last\nword, and shot all the arrows of their quiver. With each succeeding\nyear Elizabeth's reputation fails, and is rapidly passing into\ndisgrace. With the same rapidity Mary's fame grows brighter.\n\nThe books and pamphlets written in attack or defence of Mary would\nof themselves form a library. For the attack, the key-note is to\nbe found in Cecil's avowed principle concerning the treatment of\nthe dethroned queen, that _their purpose could not be obtained\nwithout disgracing her_. Hence, the silver-casket letters, and the\nso-called confessions of Paris. Hence, the issue, during every year\nof her long imprisonment of eighteen years, of some vile pamphlet,\nunder Cecil's instructions, calculated to blast her character. Two\nmen in particular powerfully contributed to defame the Queen of\nScots--John Knox and George Buchanan. Knox by his sermons, in which,\nsays Russel, (_History of the Reformation_, vol. i. p. 292,) \"lying\nstrives with rage;\" Buchanan, by his writings, which have been\nmade by Mary's enemies one of the sources of history. Buchanan was\nan apostate monk, saved from the gallows by Mary, and loaded with\nher favors. An eye-witness of her dignity, her goodness, and her\npurity, he afterward described her as the vilest of women. He sold\nhis pen to Elizabeth, and has been properly described as \"unrivalled\nin baseness, peerless in falsehood, supreme in ingratitude.\"\nHis _Detection_ was published (1570) in Latin, and copies were\nimmediately sent by Cecil to Elizabeth's ambassador in Paris with\ninstructions to circulate them; \"_for they will come to good effect\nto disgrace her, which must be done before other purposes can be\nobtained_.\"\n\nThis shameful work has been the inspiration of most of the portraits\ndrawn of Mary. De Thou in France, Spotiswoode, Jebb, and many others\nin England, have all followed him. Holinshed too was deceived by\nBuchanan; but it is doubtful if he dared write otherwise than he did,\nbetween the terrors of Cecil's spies and Elizabeth's mace.\n\nAn English translation of Buchanan was first published in 1690, being\ncalled forth by the revolution of 1688. Jebb's two folio volumes\nappeared in 1725.\n\nTwo additional lives of Mary, by Heywood (1725) and Freebairn, were\nlittle more than translations from the French. In 1726, Edward\nSimmons published Mary's forged letters as genuine. Anderson's\nvoluminous collection of papers (four large volumes) appeared in\n1727 and 1728. Meantime, from the accession of a new dynasty and the\nrebellion of 1715, there arose in Edinburgh a sort of society having\nfor its principal object the work of supporting Buchanan's credit and\nvilifying the Scottish queen. Later came the well-known and widely\npublished histories of Scotland and of England by Robertson and Hume,\nwhich, read wherever the English language was known, may be said to\nhave popularized the culpability of Mary. Until within comparatively\nfew years, Hume's work was the only history of England generally read\nin the United States. Then came Malcolm Laing, who imagined he had\nclosed the controversy against Mary in his bitter _Dissertation_.\nMignet, in France, went further than Laing, while Froude, in his\nhistory of England, distancing all previous writers, portrays Mary\nin the blackest colors as one of the most criminal and devilish of\nwomen. For his material there is no statement so absurd, no invention\nso gross, no lie so palpable, no calumny so vile, provided only that\nit be to the prejudice of Mary Stuart, that does not find favor in\nhis eyes. In his blind hatred of the Catholic queen, forgetting all\nhistoric dignity and even personal decency, he showers upon her such\nepithets as \"panther,\" \"ferocious animal,\" \"wild-cat,\" \"brute;\" her\npersecutors being white-robed saints, such as \"the pious Cecil,\"\nand \"the noble and stainless Murray,\" and the virgin Queen Elizabeth\nappearing \"as a beneficent fairy coming out of the clouds to rescue\nan erring sister.\"\n\nBut Mary's cause has not wanted defenders. Among the best known\nare, John Leslie, Bishop of Ross; Camden and Carte, the English\nhistorians; Herrera, the Spanish bishop; Robert Keith; Goodall,\n(1754,) who made the first searching analysis of the silver-casket\nletters, showing that the French text of the pretended Bothwell\nlove-letters, until then supposed to be original, was a poor\ntranslation from the Latin or Scotch. William Tytler (1759) and\nJohn Whitaker (1788) proved that the letters were forged by those\nwho produced them. Stuart, in his history of Scotland, (1762,) and\nMademoiselle Keraglio, in her _Life of Elizabeth_, (1786,) both\nprotested against the conclusions of Hume and Robertson. In 1818,\nGeorge Chalmers took up Laing's book, and proved conclusively, with\na mass of newly-discovered testimony, that the accusers of Mary were\nthemselves the murderers of Darnley. Then followed the learned Dr.\nLingard, Guthrie, and H. Glassford Bell. But all these works were\neither too heavy and cumbrous for popular reading, or too narrow\nin their scope; most of them being better prepared for reference\nthan for reading, and of but slight effective service in the field\noccupied by Hume and Robertson. Miss Strickland's work is well known\nto all our readers, and has done much good. In 1866, Mr. McNeel\nCaird published _Mary Stuart, her Guilt or Innocence_, in which he\neffectively defends Mary and seriously damages Mr. Froude's veracity.\n\nA most valuable historical contribution is the late work (1869) of\nM. Jules Gauthier. The first volume is out and the second will be\nissued in a few months. M. Gauthier says that after reading the\nwork of M. Mignet, he had no doubt that Queen Mary had assassinated\nher husband in order to avenge the death of Riccio. \"I was,\ntherefore, surprised,\" he continues, \"on arriving at Edinburgh, in\n1861, to hear Mary warmly defended, and reference made to documents\nrecently discovered that were strongly in her favor. I then formed\nthe resolution to study for myself this historical problem and to\ndiscover the truth. I had no idea of writing a book, and no motive\nbut that of satisfying my own curiosity. I have devoted several\nyears solely to this object in Scotland, England, and Spain.\" M.\nGauthier then gives a formidable list of authorities and manuscripts\nnot usually quoted, acknowledges the aid of the librarians of the\nlegal library at Edinburgh, the learned Mr. Robertson of the Register\nHouse, Robert Chambers, and the archivist of Simancas, Don Emanuel\nGonzalez, and announces the result to be a complete change of\nopinion. He goes on to say that, before examining all the documents\nof the trial, he had no doubt of the guilt of Mary Stuart; but after\nhaving scrutinized and compared them, he remained and still remains\nconvinced that it was solely to assure the fruit of their shameful\nvictory that the barons, who had dethroned their queen with England's\nhelp, sought to throw upon her the crimes of which they themselves\nwere the authors or the accomplices, and in which their auxiliaries\nwere Elizabeth and her ministers.\n\nBut what is of far greater importance, M. Gauthier announces the\ndiscovery among the Simancas MSS. of documents that prove beyond\nall question that the silver-casket letters were forgeries. This\nimportant revelation he promises for the second volume. Preceding\nM. Gauthier in time, M. Wiesener, another French writer, had, in an\nadmirable _critique_, demolished the foundations on which rest most\nof the calumnies against Mary Stuart.\n\nAnd now we have Mr. Hosack's work. There is a beautiful poetic\njustice in the fact that the most effective defences of Mary\nStuart, in the English language, come from Protestant pens, and\nthat in Scotland among the sons of the Puritans are found her most\nenthusiastic advocates. Mr. Hosack is an Edinburgh lawyer, and a\nProtestant.\n\nHis book, written in a tone of legal calmness and dignity, stands\nin refreshing contrast with Mr. Froude's savage bitterness and\nrepulsive violence, and seriously damages any credit that may be\nclaimed for the latter as a historian. Entirely at home in the\ncustoms, localities, laws, and history of Scotland, he throws\nunexpected light on a hundred interesting points heretofore left in\nobscurity by foreign, and even English historians. Mr. Hosack also\nproduces many valuable documents never before published. Among these\nare the specific charges preferred against Mary at the conference\nat Westminster in 1568. The \"Articles\" produced by Mary's accusers\nbefore they exhibited their proofs to the commissioners of Queen\nElizabeth, although constantly referred to by historians, are nowhere\nto be found among all the voluminous collections heretofore published\non the subject. Mr. Hosack discovered this valuable paper in the\ncollection known as the Hopetoun Manuscripts, which are now in the\ncustody of the lord clerk register. Another most interesting document\npresented by Mr. Hosack is one long supposed to be lost, namely,\nthe journal of the proceedings at Westminster on the day upon which\nthe silver casket containing the alleged letters of Queen Mary to\nBothwell was produced. Then comes the inventory of the jewels of the\nQueen of Scots, attached to her last will and testament, made in\n1566, when Mary was supposed to be dying. This paper has been but\nrecently discovered in the Register House, Edinburgh. It is of high\nimportance, as throwing light on a disputed point concerning Darnley.\nFinally, with the aid of Professor Schiern, of Copenhagen, Mr. Hosack\nhas succeeded in ascertaining the date of the capture of Nicholas\nHubert, commonly called \"French Paris.\" This point is also weighty in\nconnection with the question of the authenticity of the deposition\nascribed to him. The English critics of Mr. Hosack's book--many of\nthem partisans of Froude, and armed in the triple steel of their\nnational prejudice--are unanimous in praise of his research, and the\nable presentation of his argument. Mr. Hosack distinctly charges Mr.\nFroude with \"inventing fictions,\" and, moreover, sustains the charge.\nThe aim of Mr. Hosack's work is not so much to write the life of Mary\nStuart as to demonstrate that her accusers were guilty of the very\ncrime (the murder of Darnley) of which they charge her, and that she\nwas innocent, not only of that, but of any intrigue with Bothwell.\nPassing over in silence the period of Mary's residence in France, our\nauthor rapidly glances at the salient points in the administration of\nMary of Lorraine, the mother of Mary Stuart, an admirable character,\nwhose energy, integrity, resolution, and fortitude would have adorned\nthe character of the greatest sovereign that ever reigned. Mr. Hosack\nthus speaks of her death:\n\n    \"The words of the dying princess, at once so magnanimous and\n    gentle, were listened to with deep emotion by the Protestant\n    chiefs, who, though in arms against her authority, all\n    acknowledged and admired her private virtues. Amidst the tears\n    of her enemies, thus died the best and wisest woman of the age.\"\n\nKnox alone, adds Mr. Hosack, sought by means of the most loathsome\nslanders to vilify the character of this excellent princess; and it\nwas no doubt at his instigation that the rites of Christian burial\nwere denied to her remains in Scotland. Mr. Hosack then takes up the\nhistory of Mary from the period of her arrival in Scotland, and ends\nwith the commencement of her imprisonment in England.\n\nMary came to reign over a country virtually in the power of a band of\nviolent and rapacious lords, long in rebellion against their king.\nOf the five royal Jameses, three had perished, victims of their\naristocratic anarchy. The personal piety of these rebellious lords\nwas infinitesimal; but they had an enormous appreciation of Henry\nVIII.'s plunder of the monasteries and division of the church lands\namong the nobles, and desired to see Scotland submitted to the same\nregimen--they, of course, becoming ardent reformers. The young queen\nsoon won the hearts of the people of Edinburgh by her sweetness and\ngrace. One of her first experiences was the remarkable interview with\nKnox, in which he bore himself as properly became \"the ruffian of\nthe Reformation,\" while Mary, a girl of nineteen, utterly overcame\nhim in self-possession, logic, and command of citation from the Old\nTestament. The man was brimful of vanity. The wound rankled, and from\nthat moment he was Mary Stuart's personal enemy.\n\nLong before Mary's arrival, Knox and his friends had obtained full\nsway. The reformers had destroyed the monastic establishments in the\ncentral counties, and, under the influence of Knox, had an \"act\"\npassed for the total destruction of what they called \"monuments\nof superstition;\" the monuments of superstition in question being\nall that Scotland possessed of what was most valuable in art and\nvenerable in architecture.\n\n\"The registers of the church, and the libraries,\" says Spotiswoode,\n\"were cast into the fire. In a word, all was ruined; and what had\nescaped in the time of the first tumult, did now undergo the common\ncalamity.\" In his sermons, Knox openly denounced Mary, not only as\nan incorrigible idolatress, but as an enemy whose death would be\na public boon. In equally savage style he fulminated against the\namusements of the court, and dwelt especially on the deadly sin of\ndancing. And yet Knox--we must in candor admit it--was not totally\nindifferent to some social amenities, for he was then paying his\naddresses to a young girl of sixteen, whom he afterward married.\nMary had freely accorded to her Protestant subjects the privilege\nof worshipping God according to their own creed; but it did not\nenter into the views of Knox and his co-religionists that the same\nprivilege should be accorded to Mary in the land of which she was\nsovereign, and with great difficulty could she obtain the right\nto a private chapel at Holyrood--even this being interfered with,\nand the officiating priest afterward insulted, beaten, and driven\naway. And these Christian gentlemen did not stop here. They had the\ninsolence and inhumanity to present to the queen what they called a\n\"supplication,\" in which they declared that the practice of idolatry\ncould not be tolerated in the sovereign any more than in the subject,\nand that the \"papistical and blasphemous mass\" should be wholly\nabolished. To this, Mary's reply was that, answering for herself,\nshe was noways persuaded that there was any impiety in the mass,\nand trusted her subjects would not press her to act against her\nconscience; for, not to dissemble, but to deal plainly with them, she\nneither might nor would forsake the religion wherein she had been\neducated and brought up, believing the same to be the true religion,\nand grounded on the word of God. She further advised her \"loving\nsubjects\" that she, \"neither in times past nor yet in time coming,\ndid intend to force the conscience of any person; but to permit every\none to serve God in such a manner as they are persuaded to be the\nbest.\" On this, Mr. Hosack remarks, \"Nothing could exceed the savage\nrudeness of the language of the assembly. Nothing could exceed the\ndignity and moderation of the queen's reply.\"\n\nThe enemies of Mary Stuart always seek to find excuse for the\nrebellious outrages of the lords and the kirk in the design\nattributed to Mary Stuart of introducing Catholicity to the\nexclusion of Protestantism. Mr. Hosack handles this portion of\nhis subject with great ease and success, showing conclusively the\nadmirable spirit of toleration that animated Mary throughout. Then\nfollow the marriage of Mary with Darnley; the rebellion of Murray,\nArgyll, and others to deprive the queen of her crown; the energy,\nability, and admirable judgment of Mary in dealing with them, and\nthe consummate hypocrisy and falsehood of Elizabeth in feigning\ngood-will to Mary while furnishing the rebels money and assistance.\nThe French ambassador in London had discovered that six thousand\ncrowns had been sent from the English treasury to the Scotch rebels.\nThe fact was positive. He mentioned it to Elizabeth in person; but\nshe solemnly assured him, with an oath, (_elle nia avec serment_,)\nthat he was misinformed. There were strong reasons why Elizabeth\nwould not have it believed that she had lent the rebel lords any\ncountenance, and she therefore got up a remarkable scene for the\npurpose. The French and Spanish ambassadors had charged her in plain\nterms with stirring up dissensions in Scotland, and she desired to\nreply to the imputation in the most public and emphatic manner.\nMurray and Hamilton were summoned to appear, and in presence of the\nambassadors and her own ministers she asked them whether she had ever\nencouraged them in their rebellion. Murray began to reply in Scotch,\nwhen Elizabeth stopped him, bidding him speak in French, which she\nbetter understood. The scene was arranged beforehand. Murray fell\non his knees and declared \"that her majesty had never moved them to\nany opposition or resistance against the queen's marriage.\" \"Now,\"\nexclaimed Elizabeth in her most triumphant tone, \"you have told the\ntruth; for neither did I, nor any one in my name, stir you up against\nyour queen; for your abominable treason may serve for example to\nmy own subjects to rebel against me. Therefore get you out of my\npresence; ye are but unworthy traitors.\" This astounding exhibition\nof meanness, and falsehood, and folly, which it is certain, says Mr.\nHosack, imposed upon no one who witnessed it, is without a parallel\nin history.\n\nMary's energy and prudence in suppressing this dangerous rebellion\nsufficiently refute a prevalent notion that she was indebted to the\ncounsels of Murray for the previous success of her administration.\nEven Robertson admits that at no period of her career were her\nabilities and address more conspicuous. And more remarkable than her\nability in gaining success was the moderation with which she used it.\nNot one of the rebels suffered death, and her speedy pardon of the\nDuke of Chatelherault, a conspirator against her crown, of which he\nwas the presumptive heir, was an instance of generosity unexampled in\nthe history of princes.\n\nThe accusation against Mary of having signed the Catholic League,\nput forward by so many historians--Froude, of course, among them--is\nclearly shown by Mr. Hosack to be utterly untrue. She never joined\nit. By this refusal she maintained her solemn promises to her\nProtestant subjects--the chief of whom remained her staunchest friend\nin the days of her misfortune. She averted religious discord from\nher dominions, and posterity will applaud the wisdom as well as the\nmagnitude of the sacrifice which she made at this momentous crisis.\n\nThen comes the murder of Riccio, which is generally attributed to\nthe jealousy of Darnley and the personal hatred of the nobles. These\nmotives, if they ever existed at all, were but secondary with the\nconspirators who contrived Riccio's death.\n\nTheir main objects were the restoration of the rebel lords, the\ndeposition of the queen, and the elevation of Darnley to the vacant\nthrone, on which he would have been their puppet.\n\nMr. Hosack traces, step by step, the progress of the conspiracy, and\nthe bargaining and traffic among the conspirators for their several\nrewards. There was a bond of the conspirators among themselves, a\nbond with Darnley, and one with the rebel leaders who waited events\nat Newcastle. Elizabeth's ministers in Scotland were taken into their\nconfidence and counsels, as was also John Knox, while Elizabeth was\nadvised of and approved it. Many years ago, a Catholic convent was\nburned in Boston--with what circumstances of atrocity we do not\nnow desire to recall. On the Sunday preceding the outrage, exciting\nsermons were delivered on the horrors of popery from more than one\nProtestant pulpit. So, also, on the Sunday preceding the murder of\nRiccio, the denunciations of idolatry from the pulpits of Edinburgh\nwere more than usually violent, and the texts were chosen from\nthose portions of Scripture which describe the vengeance incurred\nby the persecutors of God's people. The 12th of March was the day\nfixed for the parliament before which the rebel lords were cited to\nappear, under pain of the forfeiture of their titles and estates.\nThis forfeiture the conspirators were resolved to prevent, and chose\nthe 9th of March to kill Riccio. They could have assassinated him\nat any time on the street, in the grounds, in his own room; but the\nlords selected the hour just after supper when Riccio would be in\nattendance upon the queen, in order to kill him in her presence,\ndoubtless with hope of the result of her death and that of her unborn\nbabe from the agitation and affright that must ensue from such a\nscene. _The contingency of Mary's death was provided for in the\nbond._ We need not here repeat the horrible details of the scene in\nwhich, while a ruffian (Ker of Faudonside) pressed a cocked pistol\nto her breast until she felt the cold iron through her dress, the\nhapless victim of brutal prejudice and bigotry, whose only crime was\nfidelity to his queen, was dragged from her presence and instantly\nbutchered. Nor need we describe the fiendish exultation and savage\nconduct of the assassins toward a sick, defenceless woman.\n\n    \"Machiavelli,\" remarks Mr. Hosack, \"never conceived--he has\n    certainly not described--a plot more devilish in its designs\n    than that which was devised ostensibly for the death of Riccio,\n    but in reality for the destruction both of Mary Stuart and her\n    husband.\"\n\nFor two days the noble assassins appeared to have been entirely\nsuccessful. Riccio was killed, the parliament was dissolved, the\nbanished lords recalled, and the queen a prisoner. But her amazing\nspirit and resolution scattered all their plans to the winds. The\npoor fool Darnley began to see the treachery of the men who had made\nhim their tool, and Mary fully opened his eyes to his danger. At\nmidnight on the Tuesday after the murder, the queen and Darnley crept\ndown through a secret passage to the cemetery of the royal chapel\nof Holyrood and made their way \"through the charnel house, among\nthe bones and skulls of the ancient kings,\" to where horses and a\nsmall escort stood waiting for them. Twenty miles away Mary galloped\nto Dunbar, where, within three days, eight thousand border spears\nassembled to defend her.\n\nThe assassins, Morton, Ruthven, and their associates, fled to\nEngland, where, under Elizabeth's wing, they were of course safe.\nMaitland went to the Highlands, and Knox, grieving deeply over the\ndiscomfiture of his friends, took his departure for the west.\n\nThe complicity of Murray,\n\n    \"The head of many a felon plot,\n    But never once the arm,\"\n\nwas not known, and he was pardoned his rebellion, and again received\nby Mary into her confidence. This is the Murray constantly referred\nto by Mr. Froude in his History of England as \"the noble Murray,\"\n\"the stainless Murray\"--a man who, for systematic, thorough-going\nvillainy and treachery has not his superior in history.\n\nDarnley, with an audacity and recklessness of consequences which\nseem hardly compatible with sanity, made a solemn declaration to the\neffect that he was wholly innocent of the late murderous plot.\n\nThe indignation of his associates in the crime knew no bounds. He\nalone, they said, had caused the failure of the enterprise; he had\ndeserted them, and now sought to purchase his safety in their ruin.\nFrom that moment his fate was sealed.\n\nBuchanan's famous lie concerning Mary's visit to the Castle of Alloa,\nwhich, to his shame, Mr. Froude substantially repeats, is disposed of\neffectually in a few words by Mr. Hosack.\n\nThe ride from Jedburg, too, as recounted by Buchanan in his own\npeculiar style, repeated by Robertson and by Froude, as far as he\ndares, in the teeth of the testimony on the subject, also receives\nits _quietus_ at Mr. Hosack's hands.\n\nThen follow the dangerous illness of Mary, the aggravating and fatal\nmisconduct of Darnley, the poor queen's mental suffering and anxiety,\nthe preliminary plotting by Murray, Maitland, Argyll, and Huntly to\nput Darnley out of the way, the signing of the bond among them for\nthe murder of the \"young fool and tyrant,\" and the insidious attempt\nby these scoundrels to entrap the poor heart-broken Mary into some\nsuch expression of impatience or violence against Darnley as would\nenable them to set up the charge of guilty knowledge against her. The\nconspirators themselves have put on record the noble and Christian\nreply of Mary Stuart, \"I will that ye do nothing through which any\nspot may be laid on my honor or conscience; and therefore, I pray\nyou, rather let the matter be in the state that it is, abiding till\nGod of his goodness put remedy thereto.\"\n\nFollowing upon the baptism of the infant prince, who afterward\nbecame James VI. of Scotland, came the unfortunately too successful\nendeavors of Murray, Maitland, Bothwell, and Queen Elizabeth to\nobtain the pardon of the Riccio murderers.\n\nPoor Mary's political success would have been assured if she had\npossessed but a small share of Elizabeth's hardness of heart and\nvindictiveness. Always generous, always noble, always forgiving,\nshe allowed herself to be persuaded to grant a pardon to these\nvillains--seventy-six in number--excepting only George Douglas, who\nstabbed Riccio in presence of the queen, and Ker of Faudonside, who\nheld his pistol at her breast during the perpetration of the murder.\nThis ruffian remained safely in England until Mary's downfall, when\nhe returned to Scotland and married the widow of John Knox.\n\nIt was about this period that Buchanan was extolling to the skies, in\nsuch Latin verses as those beginning\n\n    \"Virtute ingenio, regina, et munere form\u00e6\n    Felicibus felicior majoribus,\"\n\nthe virtues of a sovereign whom he afterward told us every one knew\nat the time to be a monster of lust and cruelty! His libel was\nwritten when Mary was a fugitive in England, to serve the purposes\nof his employers, who had driven her from her native kingdom. The\nmost assiduous of her flatterers as long as she was on the throne,\nhe pursued her with the malice of a demon when she became a helpless\nprisoner. His slanders were addressed not to his own countrymen, for\nwhom they would have been too gross, but to Englishmen, for the great\nmajority of whom Scotland was a _terra incognita_. His monstrous\nfictions were copied by Knox and De Thou, and later by Robertson,\nLaing, and Mignet, who, while using his material, carefully abstained\nfrom quoting him as authority. Mr. Froude, the author of that popular\nserial novel which he strangely entitles _The History of England_,\nwith delicious _na\u00efvet\u00e9_ declares his belief in the truth of\nBuchanan's _Detection_, and makes its transparent mendacity a leading\nfeature of his work.\n\nAccording to Buchanan, the Queen of Scots was, at the period above\nreferred to, leading a life of the most notorious profligacy. Mr.\nHosack, in his calm, lawyer-like manner, shows conclusively that\nat that very time she never stood higher in the estimation both\nof her own subjects and of her partisans in England. Considering\nthe difficulties of her position, he adds, Mary had conducted the\ngovernment of Scotland with remarkable prudence and success; and her\nmoderation in matters of religion induced even the most powerful of\nthe Protestant nobility to regard her claims with favor.\n\nAnd still the plotting went on. Motives enough, for them, had\nMurray, Morton, Maitland, and the rest to seek the destruction of\nDarnley--revenge and greed of gain. These men had imposed upon the\ngenerous nature of the queen in the disposal of the crown lands, and\nthey well knew that Darnley had made no secret of his disapproval of\nthe improvident bounty of his wife. These grants of the crown lands,\nunder the law of Scotland, could be revoked at any time before the\nqueen attained the age of twenty-five. That period was now at hand,\nand the danger of their losing their spoils under the influence of\nDarnley was imminent.\n\nHe had just been taken down with the small-pox at Glasgow, and the\nconspirators, well knowing Mary's forgiving temper, feared, as well\nthey might, that his illness would lead to a reconciliation between\nthem.\n\nAlthough Bothwell had shared less in the bounty of the queen than\nthe others, his motive was no less powerful for seeking the death of\nDarnley. He aspired to Darnley's place as the queen's husband, and\nhis ambition was no secret to Murray and the others. Full willingly\nthey lent themselves to aid him, knowing that, if successful, his\nplans would be fatal both to the queen and to himself.\n\nQueen Mary went from Edinburgh to Glasgow, to visit Darnley on his\nsick-bed. On this visit hinges a mass of accusations against Mary\nby her enemies. We regret that the passages of Mr. Hosack's book in\nwhich he dissects and analyzes all the evidence covering the period\nfrom the journey to Glasgow down to the explosion at Kirk-a-field are\ntoo long to be copied here. They are masterly, and more thoroughly\ndispose of the slanders than any statement we have seen. He moreover\ndemonstrates that the queen's journey to Glasgow, heretofore\nrelied on as a proof of her duplicity because she went uninvited,\nwas undertaken at Darnley's own urgent request. It is during this\nvisit to Glasgow that Mary is charged with having written the two\ncasket letters, which, if genuine, certainly would prove her to be\naccessory to the murder of her husband. With thorough knowledge of\nScotch localities, language, customs, and peculiarities, and with a\nperfect mastery of all the details of testimony, _pro_ and _con_,\nin existence on the subject--a mastery which Mr. Froude is far\nfrom possessing--Mr. Hosack makes the examination of this question\nof the genuineness of the Glasgow letters with an application of\nthe laws of evidence that enables him--if we may be permitted the\nhomely phrase--to turn them inside out. Contrasted with the sweet,\ntrusting, child-like confidence with which the letters are received\nby Mr. Froude, Mr. Hosack's treatment of them is shockingly cool. In\ncommenting upon Hume's opinion that the style of the second Glasgow\nletter was inelegant but \"natural,\" Mr. Hosack remarks that human\ndepravity surely has its limits, and the most hardened wretches\ndo not boast, and least of all in writing, of their treachery and\ncruelty. Even in the realm of fiction we find no such revolting\npicture.\n\nOf the third letter, the historian Robertson long since remarked\nthat, \"if Mary's adversaries forged her letters, they were certainly\nemployed very idly when they produced this.\" And this remark may\ncorrectly be applied to the fourth letter. The difference between\nthe two first and the two last is the most striking. The Glasgow\nletters breathe only lust and murder; but these are written, to all\nappearance, by a wife to her husband, in very modest and becoming\nlanguage. She gently reproaches him with his forgetfulness, and\nwith the coldness of his writings, sends him a gift in testimony of\nher unchangeable affection, and finally describes herself as his\nobedient, lawful wife. This is not the language of a murderess, and\nthese simple and tender thoughts were not traced by the same hand\nthat composed the Glasgow letters. They are the genuine letters of\nMary, not to Bothwell, but to her husband Darnley, and they are here\nby result of an ingenious device to mix up a few genuine letters\nof Mary with those intended to prove her guilty of the murder. The\nonly letters of importance as testimony against the queen are the\ntwo first, and they were conclusively proven by Goodall, more than a\ncentury ago, to have been written originally in Scotch.\n\nConcerning Paris, whose testimony is strongly relied on by Mary's\nenemies, Mr. Hosack has made a very important discovery. According\nto a letter of Murray to Queen Elizabeth, Paris arrived in Leith (a\nprisoner) about the middle of June, 1569. But Professor Schiern, of\nCopenhagen, in compliance with a request made by Mr. Hosack to search\nthe Danish archives for any papers relating to Scotland, found the\nreceipt of Clark, Murray's agent, acknowledging the delivery to him\nof the prisoner Paris on the 30th of October, 1568. So that Paris\nwas delivered up nearly a year before his so-called deposition was\nproduced. The authenticity of his deposition, monstrous though it be,\nhas been stoutly maintained by several of Mary's enemies. Even Hume\nremarks upon it,\n\n    \"It is in vain at present to seek improbabilities in Nicolas\n    Hubert's dying confession, and to magnify the smallest\n    difficulty into a contradiction. It was certainly a regular\n    judicial paper, given in regularly and judicially, and ought\n    to have been canvassed at the time, if the persons whom it\n    concerned had been assured of their own innocence.\"\n\nMr. Hume is an attractive writer, but as a historian it is long since\npeople ceased to rely upon him for facts. The passage here quoted is\na characteristic exemplification of his extraordinary carelessness.\nAccording to Mr. Hosack, the short sentence cited contains three\ndistinct and palpable mistakes. In the first place, the paper\ncontaining the depositions of Paris was authenticated by no judicial\nauthority. Secondly, it was not given in regularly and judicially;\nfor it was secretly sent to London in October, 1569, many months\nafter the termination of the Westminster conferences. Lastly, it was\nimpossible that it could have been canvassed at the time by those\nwhom it concerned; for it was not only kept a profound secret from\nthe queen and her friends during her life, but it was not made public\nfor nearly a century and a half after her death. The depositions of\nParis were first given to the world in the collections of Anderson in\n1725.\n\nIt did not at all suit Murray's purpose to produce Paris in open\ncourt. So, after being tortured, he was executed, and in place of\na witness who might have told what he saw and heard, was produced\na so-called deposition professedly written by a servant of Murray,\nand attested by two of his creatures, Buchanan and Wood, both\npensioners of Cecil, and both enemies of the Queen of Scotland.\nBuchanan, of course, had full cognizance of the Paris deposition,\nfor he subscribed it as a witness; and yet we have the singular fact\nthat, although he appended to his _Detectio_ the depositions of Hay,\nHepburn, and Dalgleish, that of Paris is omitted. Again, in his\n_History of Scotland_, published subsequently, although he refers to\nParis in several passages, he is still silent as to his deposition.\nThe solution of this seeming singularity is simple. He rejected\nit for its manifest extravagance and absurdity, which, he wisely\nconcluded, could not impose on the worst enemies of the queen.\n\nFable and fiction answering Mr. Froude's purpose just as well\nas authentic history, he of course accepts the \"Paris\" paper as\nperfectly true. A successful writer of the romance of history, Mr.\nFroude deserves great credit for his industry in gathering every\nvariety of material for his novel without any absurd sentimental\nsqueamishness as to its origin.\n\nAnd now, little by little, the truth begins to come out. For full\ntwo years after the murder of Darnley, no one was publicly charged\nwith the crime but Bothwell and the queen. And this because it was\nthe interest of the ruling faction in Scotland, (themselves the\nmurderers,) to confine the accusation to these two persons. But as in\ntime events develop, we find the leaders of this faction, quarrelling\namong themselves, begin to accuse each other of the crime, until the\nprincipal nobility of Scotland are implicated in it. Mr. Hosack's\nconclusion, from a searching analysis of all the evidence on record,\nis, that the mysterious assassination of Darnley was not a domestic\nbut a political crime; and it was one which for many a day secured\npolitical power to that faction which from the first had opposed\nhis marriage, and had never ceased from the time of his arrival in\nScotland to lay plots for his destruction.\n\nAs might be expected, Mary's enemies accuse her of a criminal degree\nof inactivity after the death of her husband. But what could she do?\nWho were the murderers? No one could tell. The whole affair was then\ninvolved in impenetrable mystery. Her chief officers of justice,\nHuntly the chancellor, and Argyll the lord-justice, were both in the\nplot; Bothwell, the sheriff of the county, on whom should devolve\nthe pursuit and arrest of the criminal, had taken an active share in\nthe perpetration of the murder, and Maitland, the secretary, who had\nfirst proposed to get rid of Darnley, was probably the most guilty\nof all. In a memorial afterward addressed by Mary to the different\nEuropean courts, she thus describes the situation: \"Her majesty could\nnot but marvel at the little diligence they used, and that they\nlooked at one another as men who wist not what they say or do.\"\n\nAnd now calumny ran riot. Slanderous tongues and pens were busy.\nSince Mary had dismissed the insolent Randolph from her court,\nElizabeth had maintained no ambassador there, so that the usual\nofficial _espionage_ could not be carried on. Instead thereof, Sir\nWilliam Drury, stationed on the Scotch border, transmitted day by\nday a current of scandalous stories. Mary was a woman, and her\nenemies might effect by slander what they could not accomplish by\nforce. Then, too, a bigoted religious prejudice made the work easy.\nNo matter, says our author, what was the nature of the accusation\nagainst a Catholic queen; so long as it was boldly made and\nfrequently repeated, it was sure to gain a certain amount of credit\nin the end. Here follows, in Mr. Hosack's pages, an able presentation\nof contemporary testimony going to show the falsehood of the\naccusations that the queen was at this time on a footing of intimate\nunderstanding with Bothwell. Under the circumstances his trial was,\nof course, a farce.\n\nThe most powerful men in Scotland were his associates in guilt.\nOne of his noble accomplices in the murder rode by his side to\nthe Talbooth. Another accomplice, the Earl of Argyll, hereditary\nlord-justice, presided at the trial; and the Earl of Caithness, a\nnear connection of Bothwell by marriage, was foreman of the jury.\nThe parliament which met soon after did little, besides passing the\nAct of Toleration, but enact statutes confirming Maitland, Huntly,\nMorton, and Murray in their titles and estates. As we have seen, this\nwas precisely the main object sought by these men in the murder of\nDarnley, an object passed over in silence by most historians, and\nnot understood by others. Their common interest in his death was the\nstrongest bond of union among the noble assassins. If Darnley had\nlived, he would have prevented the confirmation of these grants; for\nhe had made significant threats on that subject, especially as to the\ngifts to Murray. Murray and the others wanted the lands and titles.\nThey obtained them. Bothwell had his own designs, and these were\ninsolent in their ambition. He wanted the queen's hand in marriage\nas a step to the throne. It was but just that his companions should\nhelp him as he had aided them. On the evening of the day on which\nparliament rose, (April 19th,) Both well gave an entertainment at\na tavern in Edinburgh to a large party of the nobility. After wine\nhad circulated freely, he laid before his guests a bond for their\nsignatures. This document recited that it was prejudicial to the\nrealm that the queen should remain a widow; and it recommended\nhim, (Bothwell,) a married man, as the fittest husband she could\nobtain among her subjects. With a solitary exception--the Earl of\nEglinton--all the lords present signed this infamous bond, and\nthereby bound themselves to \"further advance and set forward the\nsaid marriage,\" and to risk their lives and goods against all who\nshould seek to hinder or oppose it. It is claimed by Mr. Froude that\nhis special saint, \"the noble and stainless Murray,\" did not sign\nthis bond; but it is now made plain that he did. Meantime calumny\nhad free scope, and no invention was too gross for belief by many,\nif it but carried with it some injury to Mary's reputation. Thus,\nshe is accused of journeying to Stirling for the express purpose\nof poisoning her infant son. Poor Marie Antoinette in after years,\nas we know, was accused of something worse than taking the life\nof her child. The answer of these two Catholic queens, great in\ntheir sufferings, and grand in their resignation, was, in each\ncase, an eloquent burst of nature and queenly dignity. \"The natural\nlove,\" said Mary Stuart, \"which the mother bears to her only bairn\nis sufficient to confound them, and needs no other answer.\" She\nafterward added, that all the world knew that the very men who now\ncharged her with this atrocious crime had wronged her son even before\nhis birth; for they would have slain him in her womb, although they\nnow pretended in his name to exercise their usurped authority.\n\nOn the 23d of April, while travelling from Linlithgow to Edinburgh,\nwith a few attendants, the queen was stopped by Bothwell, at the head\nof one thousand horse. Bothwell rode up, caught her bridle-rein,\nand assured her that \"she was in the greatest possible danger,\" and\nforthwith escorted her to one of her own castles, Dunbar. Here she\nwas kept a prisoner. Melville, who accompanied her, was sent away,\nhaving heard Bothwell boast that he would marry the queen, even\n\"whether she would herself or not.\" No woman was allowed near her but\nBothwell's sister.\n\nAlthough our readers are familiar with the horrible story, the best\naccount of it is, after all, Mary's own simple and modest narrative\nof the abominable outrage. It is found in Keith, vol. ii. p. 599,\nand in Hosack, p. 313. After referring to the great services and\nunshaken loyalty of Bothwell, she says that, previous to her visit to\nStirling, he had made certain advances, \"to which her answer was in\nno degree correspondent to his desire;\" but that, having previously\nobtained the consent of the nobility to the marriage, he did not\nhesitate to carry her off to the castle of Dunbar; that when she\nreproached him for his audacity, he implored her to attribute his\nconduct to the ardor of his affection, and to condescend to accept\nhim as her husband, in accordance with the wishes of his brother\nnobles; that he then, to her amazement, laid before her the bond\nof the nobility, declaring that it was essential to the peace and\nwelfare of the kingdom that she should choose another husband, and\nthat, of all her subjects, Bothwell was best deserving of that honor;\nthat she still, notwithstanding, refused to listen to his proposals,\nbelieving that, as on her former visit to Dunbar, an army of loyal\nsubjects would speedily appear for her deliverance; but that, as day\nafter day passed without a sword being drawn in her defence, she was\nforced to conclude that the bond was genuine, and that her chief\nnobility were all in league with Bothwell; and finally, that, finding\nher a helpless captive, he assumed a bolder tone, and \"so ceased he\nnever till, by persuasion and importunate suit, _accompanied not the\nless by force_, he has finally driven us to end the work begun.\"\nForced to marry Bothwell Mary was, to all who saw her, an utterly\nwretched woman, and longed only for death. The testimony on this\npoint is very ample, and her behavior at this crisis of her history,\nconcludes Mr. Hosack, can only be explained by her rooted aversion\nto a marriage which was forced upon her by the daring ambition of\nBothwell and the matchless perfidy of his brother nobles.\n\nBut already a fresh plot was on foot. Melville wrote to Cecil\nconcerning it, on the 7th of May; and on the following day, Kirkaldy\nof Grange sent to the Earl of Bedford a letter intended for\nElizabeth's eye. Kirkaldy, the Laird of Grange, an ardent Protestant,\nwho, at the age of nineteen, was one of the men who murdered Cardinal\nBeaton, enjoyed among his fellow-nobles the reputation of being\na man of honor, and the best and bravest soldier in Scotland. He\nadvised Bedford of the signing of a \"bond\" by \"the most part of the\nnobility,\" one head of which was, \"to seek the liberty of the queen,\nwho is ravished and detained by the Earl of Bothwell;\" another, \"to\npursue them that murdered the king.\" The letter concludes by asking\nElizabeth's aid and support for \"suppressing of the cruel murtherer\nBothwell.\" But Elizabeth had lost not only much money, but all credit\nfor veracity, by her last interference in Scottish affairs, and\nrefused to have any thing to do with this plot.\n\nFor three weeks after her marriage the queen remained at Holyrood;\nthe prisoner, to all appearance, rather than the wife of Bothwell.\nShe was continually surrounded with guards; and the description of\nher situation given by Melville, who was at court at the time, agrees\nentirely with that of the French ambassador. Not a day passed, he\nsays, in which she did not shed tears; and he adds that many, even of\nBothwell's followers, \"believed that her majesty would fain have been\nquit of him.\" The insurgent leaders--Morton, Maitland, and Hume--were\nbusy, and soon in the field with their forces. Bothwell raised a\nsmall levy to oppose them, and the two armies met at Carberry Hill on\nthe 15th of June, 1567, exactly one month after the marriage. There\nwas no fighting. Dangerous as it was, Mary preferred to trust herself\nto the rebel lords than to remain with Bothwell. She received their\npledge--that, in case she would separate herself from Bothwell, they\nwere ready \"to serve her upon their knees, as her most humble and\nobedient subjects and servants\"--through Kirkaldy of Grange, the only\nman among them whose word she would take. They kept their pledge as\nthey usually observed such obligations. What followed is too horrible\nto dwell upon. It is wonderful that any human being could have\nlived through the physical exhaustion, the insults, and the brutal\ntreatment this poor woman was subjected to during the next two days.\nThe people of Edinburgh grew indignant; and Kirkaldy of Grange swore\nthe lords should not violate their promises. But they quieted him\nby showing a forged letter of the queen to Bothwell. It was not the\nfirst time some among them had forged Mary's signature. With every\ncircumstance of force and brutality, Mary was then imprisoned in\nLochleven, whose guardian was the mother of the bastard Murray.\n\nAnd now, while the friends of Mary, numerous as they were, remained\nirresolute and inactive, the dominant faction made the most strenuous\nefforts to strengthen itself. In the towns, where its strength\nchiefly lay, and especially in Edinburgh, says Mr. Hosack, the\nProtestant preachers rendered the most valuable aid. By indulging\nin furious invectives against the queen, and charging her directly\nwith the murder, they prepared their hearers for the prospect of her\nspeedy deposition, and the _establishment of a regency in the name of\nthe infant prince_. It is clear that Murray was not forgotten by his\nfriends the preachers.\n\nStrange as it may appear, there can be but little doubt that\nElizabeth was sincerely indignant on hearing of the outrageous\ntreatment of Mary by the lords. In her whole history, she never\nappeared to so much advantage as a woman and a queen. She would\nnot stand tamely by, she said, and see her cousin murdered; and if\nremonstrances proved ineffectual, she would send an army to chastise\nand reduce them to obedience. Such conduct, and her messages to\nMary while a prisoner at Lochleven, no doubt inspired the Scottish\nqueen with the fatal confidence which induced her, a few months\nafterward, to seek refuge in England. Unfortunately for Elizabeth,\nand perhaps more unfortunately for Mary, the Queen of England's\nreputation for duplicity was now so well established that no one but\nher own ministers believed she was now sincere. Maitland, for the\nScotch nobles, plainly told Elizabeth's ambassador that, after what\nhad occurred in times past, \"they could place no reliance on his\nmistress;\" and the King of France said to Sir Henry Norris, \"I do not\ngreatly trust her.\" Meantime, the ministers daily denounced Mary as a\nmurderess in their sermons, and demanded that she should be brought\nto justice like an ordinary criminal. Elizabeth's ambassador tried\nto induce the confederate lords to restrain the savage license of\nthe preachers; but we cannot doubt, says Mr. Hosack, that they were\nsecretly encouraged by their noble patrons to prepare the minds of\nthe people for the deposition, if not for the murder, of the queen.\nThrogmorton's opinion was that, but for his presence in Scotland, she\nwould have been sacrificed to the ambition and the bigotry of her\nsubjects.\n\nStill a prisoner at Lochleven, Mary had to suffer the brutality of\nthe ruffian Lindsay, and the infamous hypocrisy of Mr. Froude's\n\"stainless Murray,\" who, with money in both pockets from France and\nEngland, now came, with characteristic deceit, to defraud his sister\nof her crown. Mr. Hosack thus estimates his performance:\n\n    \"First, to terrify his sister with the prospect of immediate\n    death, then to soothe her with false promises of safety, and\n    finally, with well-feigned reluctance, to accept the dignity\n    he was longing to grasp, displayed a mixture of brutality and\n    cunning of which he alone was capable.\"\n\nMurray was proclaimed regent on the 22d of August. Soon afterward\nbegan the machinations for accusing Mary of Darnley's murder; and\nMurray's first care was to put out of the way every witness whose\ntestimony could be of any importance. Hay, Hepburn, and Powrie and\nDalgleish, on whom the queen's letters were said to have been found,\nwere all tried, convicted, and executed on the same day. It was\nremarked that the proceedings were conducted with extraordinary and\nindecent haste. Hay and Hepburn, from the scaffold, denounced the\nnobles who had \"made a bond for the king's murder.\" Public confidence\nwas shaken in the regent, and the discontent of the people was\nexpressed in plain speech and satirical ballads. Murray began to feel\nthe need of Elizabeth's assistance. Mary, in her trusting confidence,\nhad voluntarily placed all her valuable jewels in Murray's hands, for\nsafe keeping. From among them he selected a set of rare pearls, the\nmost valuable in Europe, which he sent by an agent to Elizabeth, who\nagreed to purchase what she well knew he had no right to sell. Under\nsuch circumstances, as is the custom among thieves and receivers, she\nexpected a bargain, and got it. It was a very pretty transaction.\nIn May, 1568, Mary escaped from Lochleven castle, and in a few days\nfound herself at the head of an army of six thousand men. Of the ten\nearls and lords who flew to her support, nine were Protestants; and\nour Puritan historian finds it remarkable that, in spite of all the\nefforts of Murray and his faction, and in spite of all the violence\nof the preachers, she--the Catholic Queen of Scotland, the daughter\nof the hated house of Guise, the reputed mortal enemy of their\nreligion--should now, after being maligned as the most abandoned of\nher sex, find her best friends among her own Protestant subjects,\nappears at first sight inexplicable. A phenomenon so strange, he\nadds, admits of only one explanation. If, throughout her reign, she\nhad not loyally kept her promises of security and toleration to her\nProtestant subjects, they assuredly would not, in her hour of need,\nhave risked their lives and fortunes in her defence.\n\nAgainst her better judgment, Mary was induced to fight the battle\nof Langside, and lost the field. And now the queen made the great\nmistake of her life. Instead of trusting to the loyalty of the Scotch\nborderers, she determined to throw herself on the hospitality of the\nQueen of England. In vain did her trusty counsellors and strongest\nsupporters seek to dissuade her. The warm professions of friendship\nand attachment made to her by Elizabeth, when she was a prisoner\nat Lochleven, had completely captivated her; and, insisting on her\nproject, she crossed the Solway, in an open boat, to the English\nshore. She was received by Mr. Lowther, deputy warden, with all the\nrespect due to her rank and misfortunes. Although she did not yet\nknow it, Mary was from this moment a prisoner. Here Mr. Hosack, in\na few eloquent passages, sets forth the reasons why the forcible\ndetention of Mary, independently of all considerations of morality\nand justice, was a political blunder of the first magnitude. As\nthe inmate of an English prison, she proved a far more formidable\nenemy to Elizabeth than when she wore the crowns both of France\nand Scotland. Never did a political crime entail a heavier measure\nof retribution than the captivity and murder of the Queen of Scots\nentailed on England.\n\nMary was first taken to the castle of Carlisle. Here Queen Elizabeth\nwas represented by Lord Scrope, the warden of the marches, and Sir\nFrancis Knollys, the queen's vice-chamberlain. These noblemen appear\nto have been more impressed with the mental and moral qualities of\nthe Scottish queen than with her external graces. They describe her,\nafter their first interview, as possessing \"an eloquent tongue and a\ndiscreet head, with stout courage and a liberal heart;\" and, in a\nsubsequent letter, Knollys says, \"Surely, she is a rare woman; for\nas no flattery can abuse her, so no plain speech seems to offend\nher, if she thinks the speaker an honest man.\" All this was written\nto Elizabeth, to whom, of course, it was gall and wormwood. A more\nremarkable passage of their letter is that in which, speaking in\nsimple candor as English gentlemen and men of honor, they ask their\nroyal mistress whether\n\n    \"it were not honorable for you, in the sight of your own\n    subjects and of all foreign princes, to put her grace to the\n    choice, whether she will depart freely back into her country\n    without your highness's impeachment, or whether she will remain\n    at your highness's devotion within your realm here, with her\n    necessary servants only to attend her?\"\n\nTo a sovereign whose policy was synonymous with fraud, the\nunconscious sarcasm of this honorable advice must have been biting.\n\nElizabeth pledged her word to Mary that she should be restored to her\nthrone. She at the same time pledged her word to Murray that Mary\nshould never be permitted to return to Scotland. Then began the long\nnineteen years' martyrdom of Mary. The conference at York and the\ncommission at Westminster were mockeries of justice. It was pretended\nthere were two parties present before them--Murray and his associates\non one side, Mary on the other. Mary was kept a prisoner in a distant\ncastle, while Murray, received with honor at court, held private\nand secret consultations with members of both these quasi-judicial\nbodies, showed them the testimony he intended to produce, and\nobtained their judgment as to the sufficiency of his proofs before\nhe publicly produced them; these proofs being the forged letters of\nthe silver casket. These letters were never seen by Mary Stuart, and\neven copies of them were repeatedly and persistently refused her.\nMr. Froude makes a lame attempt to show that _some one_ secretly\nfurnished her copies; but even if his attempt were successful, it\ndoes not affect the fact that the copies were officially refused her.\nBy the time the scales had fallen from Mary's eyes, Elizabeth's art\nand duplicity had woven a web from which she could not be extricated.\nHer remaining years of life were one long, heart-sickening struggle\nagainst treachery, spies, insult to her person, her reputation,\nand her faith; confinement, cold, sickness, neuralgic agony, want;\ndeprivation of all luxuries, of medical attendance, and of the\nconsolations of religion. At every fresh spasm of alarm on the\npart of Elizabeth, Mary's prison was changed; frequently in dead\nof winter, and generally without any provision for the commonest\nconveniences of life. More than once, taken into a naked, cold\ncastle, Mary's jailers had to rely on the charity of the neighbors\nfor even a bed for their royal prisoner. At Tutbury, her rooms were\nso dark and comfortless, and the surroundings so filthy--there is\nno other word for it--that the English physician refused to charge\nhimself with her health. But enough. We all know the sad story, and\nwe trustingly believe the poor martyred queen has her recompense in\nheaven.\n\nMr. Hosack's treatment of the question of the authenticity of the\nsilver-casket letters is exhaustive. More than a century ago, Goodall\nfully exposed the forgery, and he has never been satisfactorily\nanswered. Mr. Froude, of course, accepts them without discussion.\nThe conferences at York and the proceedings at Westminster are\npresented as only a lawyer can present them. Mary's cause gains by\nthe most rigid scrutiny. Mr. Froude does not know enough to analyze\nand intelligibly present serious matters like these. He prefers a\nseries of sensational _tableaux_ and highly-colored dissolving views,\nproducing for authorities garbled citations and his own fictions. Mr.\nHosack's testimony, independently of its great intrinsic merit, is\nvaluable because of his nationality and of his religion, and we hope\nto see his work republished in the United States. His closing page\nconcludes thus:\n\n    \"In the darkest hours of her existence--even when she hailed\n    the prospect of a scaffold as a blessed relief from her\n    protracted sufferings--she never once expressed a doubt as\n    to the verdict that would be finally pronounced between her\n    and her enemies. 'The theatre of the world,' she calmly\n    reminded her judges at Fotheringay, 'is wider than the realm\n    of England.' She appealed from the tyranny of her persecutors\n    to the whole human race; and she has not appealed in vain. The\n    history of no woman that ever lived approaches in interest\n    to that of Mary Stuart; and so long as beauty and intellect,\n    a kindly spirit in prosperity, and matchless heroism in\n    misfortune attract the sympathies of men, this illustrious\n    victim of sectarian violence and barbarous statecraft will ever\n    occupy the most prominent place in the annals of her sex.\"\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[7] _Mary Queen of Scots and her Accusers._ Embracing a Narrative of\nEvents from the Death of James V., in 1542, until the Death of the\nRegent Murray, in 1570. By John Hosack, Barrister-at law. William\nBlackwood & Sons, Edinburgh and London. 1869.\n\n_Histoire de Marie Stuart._ Par Jules Gauthier. Vol. i. Paris. 1869.\n\n\n\n\nSTABAT MATER.\n\n\n    Stabat Mater dolorosa,\n    Juxta crucem lacrymosa,\n      Dum pendebat Filius:\n    Cujus animam gementem,\n    Contristatam et dolentem,\n      Pertransivit gladius.\n\n            ENGLISH TRANSLATION[8]\n\n            Broken-hearted, lo, and tearful,\n            Bowed before that Cross so fearful,\n              Stands the Mother by the Son!\n            Through her bosom sympathizing\n            In his mortal agonizing\n              Deep and keen the steel has gone.\n\n                    GREEK TRANSLATION.[9]\n\n                    \u1f3d\u03c3\u03c4\u03b7 \u039c\u03ae\u03c4\u03b7\u03c1 \u1f00\u03bb\u03b3\u03ad\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1\n                    \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u1f70 \u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03c5\u03c1\u1ff7 \u03b4\u03b1\u03ba\u03c1\u03cd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1,\n                      \u1f10\u03ba\u03c1\u03b7\u03bc\u03bd\u1fb6\u03c4\u03bf \u1f61\u03c2 \u03a4\u03ad\u03ba\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd\u00b7\n                    \u1f27\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u1f74\u03bd \u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03bd\u03ac\u03c7\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd,\n                    \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03cd\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd, \u03c0\u03b5\u03bd\u03b8\u03ad\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd\n                      \u03b4\u03b9\u03ad\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9\u03c1\u03b5 \u03c6\u03ac\u03c3\u03b3\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd.\n\n    O quam tristis et afflicta\n    Fuit illa benedicta\n      Mater Unigeniti!\n    Qu\u00e6 m\u0153rebat et dolebat,\n    Pia Mater, dum videbat\n      Nati p\u0153nas inclyti.\n\n            How afflicted, how distressed,\n            Stands she now, that Virgin blessed,\n              By that tree of woe and scorn;\n            Mark her tremble, droop, and languish,\n            Gazing on that awful anguish\n              Of her Child, her Only-Born!\n\n                    \u03a6\u03b5\u1fe6 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u1f04\u03c7\u03b8\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03bb\u03cd\u03c0\u03b7\u03c2\n                    \u03b5\u1f50\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03b7\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7\u03c2 \u1f10\u03ba\u03b5\u03af\u03bd\u03b7\u03c2\n                      \u039c\u03ae\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u039c\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2\u00b7\n                    \u1f23 \u1f24\u03bb\u03b3\u03b5\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f20\u03bd\u03b9\u1fb6\u03c4\u03bf,\n                    \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03c3\u03b5\u03b2\u1f74\u03c2, \u1f61\u03c2 \u1f61\u03c1\u1fb6\u03c4\u03bf\n                      \u03a5\u1f31\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c4' \u1f04\u03bb\u03b3\u03b7 \u03b5\u1f50\u03ba\u03bb\u03b5\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c2.\n\n    Quis est homo qui non fleret,\n    Matrem Christi si videret\n      In tanto supplicio?\n    Quis non posset contristari,\n    Christi Matrem contemplari\n      Dolentem cum Filio?\n\n            Who may see, nor share her weeping,\n            Christ the Saviour's mother keeping\n              Grief's wild watch, so sad and lone?\n            Who behold her bosom sharing\n            Every pang his soul is bearing,\n              Nor receive them in his own?\n\n                    \u03a4\u03af\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03ce\u03c0\u03c9\u03bd \u03bf\u1f50\u03ba \u1f02\u03bd \u03ba\u03bb\u03b1\u03af\u03bf\u03b9,\n                    \u03b5\u1f30 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03a7\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u039c\u03ae\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1' \u1f34\u03b4\u03bf\u03b9\n                      \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03b1\u1fe6\u03c4' \u1f00\u03bd\u03b5\u03c7\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7\u03bd;\n                    \u03c4\u03af\u03c2 \u03b4\u03cd\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9\u03c4' \u1f02\u03bd \u03bf\u1f50\u03ba \u1f04\u03c7\u03b8\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9\n                    \u03c4\u1ff7 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03a7\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u039c\u03ae\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1' \u1f34\u03b4\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9\n                      \u03c3\u1f7a\u03bd \u03a5\u1f31\u1ff7 \u03bb\u03c5\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7\u03bd;\n\n    Pro peccatis su\u00e6 gentis,\n    Vidit Jesum in tormentis,\n      Et flagellis subditum.\n    Vidit suum dulcem Natum\n    Moriendo desolatum,\n      Dum emisit spiritum.\n\n            Ransom for a world's offending,\n            Lo, her Son and God is bending\n              That dear head to wounds and blows;\n            'Mid the body's laceration,\n            And the spirit's desolation,\n              As his life-blood darkly flows.\n\n                    \u03a0\u03c1\u1f78 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u1ff6\u03bd \u03bf\u1f35\u03bf \u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2\n                    '\u03c6\u03b1\u03bd' \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1fc7 \u1f51\u03b2\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03b8\u03b5\u1f76\u03c2 \u1f38\u03b7\u03c3\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c2\n                      \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bc\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03be\u03b9\u03bd \u1f14\u03ba\u03b4\u03bf\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2\u00b7\n                    \u03b5\u1f36\u03b4\u03b5\u03bd \u1f15\u03bf\u03bd \u03b3\u03bb\u03c5\u03ba\u1f7a\u03bd \u03c0\u03b1\u1fd6\u03b4\u03b1\n                    \u1f10\u03ba\u03b8\u03bd\u03ae\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1, \u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03c9\u03b8\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1,\n                      \u1f61\u03c2 \u1f10\u03be\u03ad\u03c0\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9 \u1f04\u03b8\u03bb\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2.\n\n    Eia Mater, fons amoris,\n    Me sentire vim doloris\n      Fac ut tecum lugeam;\n    Fac ut ardeat cor meum\n    In amando Christum Deum,\n      Ut sibi complaceam.\n\n            Fount of love, in that dread hour,\n            Teach me all thy sorrow's power,\n              Bid me share its grievous load;\n            O'er my heart thy spirit pouring,\n            Bid it burn in meet adoring\n              Of its martyred Christ and God!\n\n                    \u1f6e \u03c3\u03c5 \u039c\u03ae\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1, \u03c0\u03ae\u03b3\u03b7 \u1f14\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2,\n                    \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03bb\u03cd\u03c0\u03b7\u03c2 \u03bc\u03b5 \u03c0\u03ac\u03b8\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u1f04\u03c7\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2\n                      \u03b4\u03cc\u03c2, \u03c3\u03bf\u03b9 \u1f35\u03bd\u03b1 \u03c3\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b8\u1ff6\u00b7\n                    \u03b4\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c6\u03bb\u03ad\u03b3\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 \u03ba\u1fc6\u03c1 \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f10\u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\n                    \u03c4\u1ff7 \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03a7\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u0398\u03b5\u03cc\u03bd,\n                      \u1f45\u03c0\u03c9\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f31 \u03b5\u1f50\u03b4\u03bf\u03ba\u03ad\u03c9.\n\n    Sancta Mater! istud agas,\n    Crucifixi fige plagas\n      Cordi meo valide.\n    Tui Nati vulnerati,\n    Tam dignati pro me pati,\n      P\u0153nas mecum divide.\n\n            Be my prayer, O Mother! granted,\n            And within my heart implanted\n              Every gash whose crimson tide,\n            From that spotless victim streaming,\n            Deigns to flow for my redeeming,\n              Mother of the crucified!\n\n                    \u1f0d\u03b3\u03bd\u03b7 \u039c\u03ae\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1, \u03c4\u03cc\u03b4\u03b5 \u03b4\u03c1\u03ac\u03c3\u03bf\u03bd\u00b7\n                    \u03a3\u03c4\u03b1\u03c5\u03c1\u03c9\u03b8\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bb\u03ae\u03b3\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c0\u03ae\u03be\u03bf\u03bd\n                      \u03bc\u03bf\u03b9 \u1f10\u03bd \u03ba\u1fc6\u03c1\u03b9 \u03ba\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u1ff6\u03c2\u00b7\n                    \u03c3\u03bf\u03af\u03bf \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c4\u03c1\u03c9\u03b8\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03a4\u03ad\u03ba\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5,\n                    \u1f43\u03c2 \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78 \u1f10\u03bc\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c0\u03ac\u03c3\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u1f24\u03be\u03b9\u03bf\u03c5,\n                      \u03bc\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd\u1ff6\u03bd \u03bc\u03bf\u03b9 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b4\u03bf\u03cd\u03c2.\n\n    Fac me tecum pie flere,\n    Crucifixo condolere,\n      Donec ego vixero.\n    Juxta crucem tecum stare,\n    Et me tibi sociare\n      In planctu desidero.\n\n            Every sigh of thy affliction,\n            Every pang of crucifixion--\n              Teach me all their agony!\n            At his cross for ever bending,\n            In thy grief for ever blending,\n              Mother, let me live and die!\n\n                    \u0394\u03cc\u03c2 \u03c3\u03bf\u03af \u03bc' \u03b5\u1f50\u03c3\u03b5\u03b2\u1ff6\u03c2 \u03c3\u03c5\u03bb\u03bb\u03c5\u03c0\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd,\n                    \u03a3\u03c4\u03b1\u03c5\u03c1\u03c9\u03b8\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9 \u03b4\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03b1\u03bb\u03b3\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd,\n                      \u1f15\u03c9\u03c2 \u03bc\u03bf\u03b9 \u03b2\u03b9\u03ce\u03c3\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\u00b7\n                    \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03c5\u03c1\u1ff7 \u03c3\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03af\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9,\n                    \u03c3\u03bf\u03af \u03c4\u03b5 \u03bc\u03bf\u03af\u03c1\u03b1\u03c2 \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03ad\u03c7\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9\n                      \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c0\u03b5\u03bd\u03b8\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u1f40\u03c1\u03ad\u03b3\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9.\n\n    Virgo virginum pr\u00e6clara,\n    Mihi jam non sis amara,\n      Fac me tecum plangere.\n    Fac ut portem Christi mortem,\n    Passionis fac consortem,\n      Et plagas recolere.\n\n            Virgin of all virgins highest,\n            Humble prayer who ne'er deniest,\n              Teach me how to share thy woe!\n            All Christ's Passion's depth revealing,\n            Quicken every quivering feeling\n              All its bitterness to know!\n\n                    \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b8\u03ad\u03bd\u03b5, \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03ba\u03cc\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd \u03bb\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03c1\u03ac,\n                    \u1f24\u03b4\u03b7 \u03bc\u03ae \u03bc\u03bf\u03b9 \u1f34\u03c3\u03b8\u03b9 \u03c0\u03b9\u03ba\u03c1\u03ac,\n                      \u03b4\u03cc\u03c2 \u03bc\u03ad \u03c3\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03b1\u03bb\u03b3\u03ad\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u00b7\n                    \u03b4\u1f78\u03c2 \u03b2\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03ac\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03a7\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c0\u03cc\u03c4\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd,\n                    \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c0\u03ac\u03b8\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bf\u03af\u03b5\u03b9 \u03bc\u03b5 \u03bc\u03ad\u03c4\u03bf\u03c7\u03bf\u03bd,\n                      \u03c4\u03ac\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03c0\u03bb\u03ae\u03b3\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bd\u03bd\u03bf\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd.\n\n    Fac me plagis vulnerari,\n    Cruce hac inebriari,\n      Et cruore Filii.\n    Flammis ne urar succensus,\n    Per te, Virgo, sim defensus,\n      In die judicii.\n\n            Bid me drink that heavenly madness,\n            Mingled bliss of grief and gladness,\n              Of the Cross of thy dear Son!\n            With his love my soul inflaming,\n            Plead for it, O Virgin! claiming\n              Mercy at his judgment throne!\n\n                    \u0394\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bb\u03ae\u03b3\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 \u03bc\u03b5 \u03c4\u03c1\u03c9\u03b8\u1fc6\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9,\n                    \u03c4\u1ff7\u03b4\u03b5 \u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03c5\u03c1\u1ff7 \u03bc\u03b5\u03b8\u03c5\u03c3\u03b8\u1fc6\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9\n                      \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03a5\u1f31\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b1\u1f35\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9.\n                    \u03c0\u03c5\u03c1\u1f76 \u1f00\u03c6\u03b8\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u03bc\u1f74 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c5\u03b8\u1fc6\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9,\n                    \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u1f70 \u03b4\u03b9\u1f70 \u03c3\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c3\u03c9\u03b8\u1fc6\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9\n                      \u03ba\u03c1\u03af\u03c3\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c6' \u1f25\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9.\n\n    Christe, cum sit hinc exire,\n    Da per matrem me venire\n      Ad palmam victori\u00e6.[10]\n    Quando corpus morietur,\n    Fac ut anim\u00e6 donetur\n      Paradisi gloria.\n\n            Shelter at that Cross, oh! yield me!\n            By the death of Christ, oh! shield me!\n              Comfort with thy grace and aid!\n            And, O Mother! bid my spirit\n            Joys of Paradise inherit,\n              When its clay to rest is laid!\n\n                    \u1f49\u03c0\u03cc\u03b8' \u1f65\u03c1\u03b1 \u03bc' \u1f00\u03c0\u03ad\u03c1\u03c7\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9,\n                    \u03b4\u03b9\u1f70 \u039c\u03ae\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c6\u03ad\u03c1\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9,\n                      \u03a7\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u1f72, \u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u03b7\u03c4\u03ae\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1\u00b7\n                    \u03c4\u03b5\u03b8\u03bd\u03ad\u03c9\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c7\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bc\u03bf\u1fe6,\n                    \u03b5\u1f54\u03c7\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03af \u03bc\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u1fc7 \u03b4\u03af\u03b4\u03bf\u03c5\n                      \u03bf\u1f50\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c7\u03ac\u03c1\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[8] This translation, which first appeared in the _Democratic\nMagazine_ thirty years ago, is now republished at the request of the\nauthor, G. J. G.\n\n[9] By the late Otto George Mayer, student of the Congregation of St.\nPaul.\n\n[10] Instead of these three lines we sometimes find the following:\n\n    Fac me cruce custodiri,\n    Morte Christi pr\u00e6muniri,\n      Confoveri gratia.\n\nThe former version of the Latin is followed in the Greek, the latter\nin the English translation.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BRIGAND'S GOD-CHILD.\n\nA LEGEND OF SPAIN.\n\n\nOnce upon a time, as the legends say, there lived in good old Spain a\npoor workman, to whom destiny had given twelve children, and nothing\nfor them to live upon. Now his wife was expecting a thirteenth, and\nperhaps with it would appear a fourteenth also, to run about loved\nbut unclothed and unfed, as the others had before them. The bread was\nalmost gone, work not to be had, and the poor man, to hide his sighs\nand his misery from the patient partner of his misfortunes, wandered\nfar from home and into the woods, calling upon paradise to assist\nhim, until he came to the ill-reputed cavern and stronghold of the\nbandits.\n\nHe almost fell over their captain, and came very near receiving a\nsabre-thrust for his pains; but his extreme misery made him no object\nfor a robbery, so he was simply catechised as to his condition.\n\nHe told his story, moved even the brigand heart to pity, and was\ninvited to supper; a bag of gold and a fine horse were given him,\nand he was sent home with the assurance that, be the new-comer\nboy or girl, the robber-chief would stand as god-father. The poor\nman, in ecstasy at such good fortune, flew rather than rode to his\nwell-filled dwelling, and arrived there just in time to welcome\nnumber thirteen.\n\nA boy! He gave his wife the money and a caress, and, although the\nnight was far advanced, mounted his charger and galloped back to the\ncave. The brigand was astonished at his speedy return; but true to\nhis word, appeared with him in the neighboring church in disguise\nof a rich old gossip, made every requisite promise for the new-born\nbabe, and disappeared, leaving a bag of golden crowns and another\npurse of gold.\n\nThe angels, however, claimed the baby, and the brigand's\ngod-child flew to paradise on golden wings, and in the splendid\nswaddling-clothes that his charity had provided for it.\n\nSt. Peter, porter at the gates celestial, stirred himself to welcome\nthe little fellow to heaven; but no! he would not enter unless\naccompanied by his god-father.\n\n\"And who may he be?\" asked St. Peter.\n\n\"Who?\" responded the god-child; \"The chief of the brigands.\"\n\n\"My poor little innocent,\" said the saint, \"you know not what you\nask! Come in yourself; but heaven was not made for such as he.\"\n\nThe child sat down by the door resolved not to enter, and planning in\nhis little head all sorts of schemes to accomplish his purpose, when\nthe Blessed Mary passed that way.\n\n\"Why do you not enter, my angel?\" she said.\n\n\"I would be ungrateful,\" he answered, \"to partake of heavenly joys if\nmy good god-father did not share them with me.\"\n\nSt. Peter interposed, and appealed to the Holy Mother, saying,\n\n\"If he had only been a wax-carrier! but this man, Satan's own\nemissary--impossible! An incarnate demon; a robber, healthy and\nrobust, who has taken every opportunity to do mischief! Holy Mother!\ncould such a thing be thought of?\"\n\nBut the god-child insisted, bent his pretty blonde head, joined his\nlittle hands, fell on his knees, prayed and wept. The Virgin had\ncompassion on him and bringing a golden chalice from the heavenly\ninclosure, said,\n\n\"Take this; go and seek your god-father; tell him that he may come\nwith you to heaven; but he must first fill this cup with repentant\ntears.\"\n\nJust then, by the clear moonlight, reposing on a rock, and fully\narmed, lay the brigand. In his dream his dagger trembled in his\nhands. As he awoke, he saw near his couch a beautiful winged infant.\nWith no fear of the savage man, it approached and presented the\ngolden chalice. He rubbed his eyes, and thought he still dreamed; but\nthe infant angel reassured him, saying,\n\n\"No; it is not a fancy. I have come to invite thee to go with me.\nLeave this earth. I am thy god-child, and I will conduct thy steps.\"\n\nThen the little fellow related his marvellous story: his arrival at\nheaven's gate, St. Peter's refusal, and how the Blessed Mother, ever\nmerciful, had come to his assistance and granted his request. The\nbandit listened, and breathed with difficulty, while, bewildered he\ngazed on the angelic figure, and held out his hand for the golden\nchalice.\n\nSuddenly his heart seemed to burst, two fountains of tears gushed\nfrom his eyes. The cup was filled, and the radiant infant mounted\nwith him to the skies.\n\nInto heaven the little one entered, carrying the well-filled cup to\nSt. Peter--who was astonished to see who followed him--and proceeded\nto offer it at the feet of the beautiful Queen.\n\nShe smiled on the sinner who through her compassion had been saved,\nwhile he threw himself in reverence at her feet. God himself had\nacquitted the debt of the child. Besides, we know that to the\nrepentant there is always grace--and the infant had declared it would\nnot enter alone.\n\n\n\n\nMOLECULAR MECHANICS.\n\n\nAmong the theories proposed to explain the constitution of material\nsubstance, and to account for the facts relative to it disclosed by\nmodern science, one developed in a recent work with the above title,\nby Rev. Joseph Bayma, of Stonyhurst, is specially worthy of notice\nfor its ingenuity and the field which it opens to the mathematician.\nWhether it be true or not, it is at any rate such that its truth can\nbe tested; and though this may be somewhat difficult, on account of\nthe complexity of the necessary formulas and calculations, still the\ndifficulty can probably be overcome in course of time, should the\nundertaking seem promising enough.\n\nIt is briefly as follows. Matter is not continuous, even in very\nsmall parts of its volume, but is composed of a definite number of\nultimate elements, each of which occupies a mere point, and may\nbe considered simply as a centre of force. This force is actually\nexerted by each of them following the law of gravitation as to its\nchange of intensity with the distance; but is attractive for some\nelements and repulsive for others, which is obviously necessary to\npreserve equilibrium. These elements are arranged in regularly formed\ngroups, in which the balance of the attractive and repulsive forces\nis such that each group, as well as the whole mass, is preserved\nfrom collapse or indefinite expansion; these are what are known\nchemically as molecules; and in the simple substances they probably\nhave the shape of one of the five regular polyhedrons.\n\nThe simplest possible construction of a molecule would be one of\nthe polyhedrons, with an element at each vertex, and one at the\ncentre, whose action must be of an opposite character to that of\nthose at the vertices; for these last must all exert the same kind\nof action, attractive or repulsive, for any kind of equilibrium to\nbe maintained, and the centre must act in the opposite direction to\nprevent collapse or expansion of the mass. Furthermore, the absolute\nattractive power, or that which the molecule would have if all\ncollected at one point, must exceed the repulsive, slightly at any\nrate, since the force exerted at distances compared with which its\ndimensions are insignificant is known to have this former character.\n\nThis system admits of two varieties, according as the centre is\nattractive or repulsive. In either case, for the maintenance of\nequilibrium the force of the centre must always be less than half\nthat of the vertices combined, as the author shows, (giving the\nvalues for each polyhedron;) and it would seem that the first\nsupposition would therefore be untenable, since the attractive force\nin each molecule, as just stated, necessarily exceeds the repulsive.\nEquilibrium certainly cannot be maintained in this case; but this\nwill not involve the permanent collapse of the molecule, but merely\na continual vibration of its elements back and forward through the\ncentre.\n\nThe second hypothesis, on the other hand, requires either a centre so\nweak as to produce very little repulsion outside of the molecule, or\nelse a continual tendency to expand under a central power too great\nfor equilibrium. Both will tend to bring the molecular envelopes near\nto each other, and produce adhesion or mixing among them; also, it\nmay perhaps be added, that the envelopes themselves will, on account\nof the mutual attraction of their elements, be unstable.\n\nOf these two constructions, then, the first would seem most probable;\nbut both are open to objection on account of there being no internal\nresistance in the individual molecules to a change of diameter\nproportional to a change produced by external action in that of a\nmass of them; and if such a change should take place, the mass would\nbe in just the same statical conditions as before, only differing in\nthe relative dimensions of its parts, and the resistance to pressure\nwhich is exhibited more or less by all matter would not be accounted\nfor. But it does not seem quite certain that pressure or traction of\nthe mass would operate upon the separate molecules in the same sense.\n\nWe are not, however, restricted to such a simple structure; for there\nmay be several envelopes instead of only one, and of these some may\nbe attractive and others repulsive; the centre also may be repulsive.\nThere would have to be an absolute predominance of attractivity, of\ncourse, as in the previous more simple supposition. It seems probable\nthat in this supposition the envelopes would be all tetrahedric, or\nthat either the cube and octahedron, or the other two, which are\nsimilarly counterparts of each other, would alternate. Many of these\nforms are examined mathematically by the author, as to their internal\naction.\n\nThe exact discussion of their external action, however, would\nbe exceedingly intricate, and would not be worth undertaking\nwithout a more definite idea than we yet have of the actual shapes\npresented by the molecules of the various known substances. The\nforms of crystallization may throw some light upon this, and they\nseem to indicate, as the author acknowledges, that the elements\nare not always grouped in regular polyhedrons; if they are not,\nthey must have unequal powers, and this may be sometimes the\ncase. But irregular crystalline forms are not impossible, or even\nimprobable, with regular molecules. He also suggests and applies a\nmethod for obtaining the forms of the simple chemical substances\nby considering what combinations with others each polyhedron is\ncapable of, and comparing these results with the actual combinations\ninto which these various substances are known to enter, and deduces\nthe shapes, with some plausibility, of the molecules of oxygen,\nnitrogen, carbon, hydrogen, phosphorus, chlorine, sulphur, arsenic,\nand iodine. Whether we shall ever be able to obtain more positive\nproof of these interesting conclusions remains to be seen; but if\nany molecules have really the number of envelopes that would be\nindicated by their chemical equivalents, the perfect determination of\ntheir exact mechanical conditions of combination, and even of their\nseparate construction, will probably, as F. Bayma remarks, be a\nproblem always above the power of the human mind. If mathematicians\nare at all inclined to plume themselves on having unravelled the\ncomplications of the solar system, they can find sufficient matter\nfor humiliation in not being able to understand the status of a\nmaterial particle less than the hundred millionth of an inch in\ndiameter; for to this extent subdivision has actually been carried.\n\nOne of the most remarkable points in this theory is that part of\nit which relates to the ethereal medium which seems to pervade all\nspace, if the undulatory theory of light is true, as is now perhaps\nuniversally believed. Instead of assuming it to be extremely rare,\nas is usually done without hesitation, the author regards it as\nexcessively dense; \"immensely denser than atmospheric air,\" to\nuse his own words. Of course this seems absurd at first sight, as\nsuch a medium apparently would exert an immense resistance to the\nmovements of the heavenly bodies, and in fact to all movements on\ntheir surfaces or elsewhere. This would certainly be the case if it\nwere similar to ordinary matter; and to avoid this difficulty, it\nis assumed to be entirely attractive. The reason for supposing a\ngreat density for this substance is its immense elasticity and power\nof transmitting vibrations; which seems incompatible with great\ndistances between its particles, unless these particles are extremely\nenergetic in their action, which comes to the same thing; and this\nargument has considerable force.\n\nBut it does not seem evident that an attractive medium would not\nalso interfere with the passage of bodies through it, though not\nin the same way as a repulsive one; and the oscillation through\nits centre necessary for its preservation complicates the theory\nsomewhat. Also, any marked accumulation of a powerfully acting\nmedium round the various celestial bodies would cause, if varied\nin any way by their changes of relative position, perturbations in\ntheir movements. The very fact, however, that its own action was so\nenergetic might make the disturbance in its arrangement produced by\nother masses small, especially if it penetrates those masses, as is\nprobably generally maintained. The subject is, of course, one of\ngreat difficulty, and objections readily suggest themselves to any\nhypothesis regarding it; still, it would appear that on some accounts\nit might be better, instead of assuming the medium to be wholly or\npredominantly attractive or repulsive, to suppose it to have the two\nforces equally balanced in its constitution; and if it be, like other\nmatter, grouped in molecules, the balance would naturally exist in\neach molecule, making it inert at any but very small distances, and\nexerting at these very small distances a force the character of which\nwould vary according to the direction.\n\nWe have said that the discussion of the exterior action of the\nmolecules--that is, of their action on each other, or on exterior\npoints in general--would be exceedingly complicated. The only way\nin which it seems practicable is that in which the mutual actions\nof the planets have been investigated, namely, a development of the\nforce in the form of a series; but this cannot be done advantageously\nunless the distances between the molecules are considerably greater\nthan the molecular diameters. If, however, we make the development of\nthe ratio of the attraction (or repulsion) exerted by the vertices\nof a regular polyhedron in the direction of its centre, to what it\nwould exert if concentrated at that centre, in a series of the powers\nof the ratio of the molecular radius to the distance of the point\nacted on from the centre, it will be found that the coefficients\nof the first and second powers vanish in all cases; and that in\nall, except that of the tetrahedron, those of all the odd powers\nalso disappear, as well as that of the fourth in the dodecahedron\nand icosahedron. If, then, the absolute attractive or repulsive\npower of any envelope is very nearly compensated by that of an\nopposite character prevailing in the rest of the molecule, (as seems\nprobable,) the whole series can be reduced, at any distance which is\nvery great compared with the molecular diameter, to two terms--one\na constant with a very small value, and the other containing the\nthird, fourth, or sixth power of the small quantity which the ratio\nof the diameter to the distance has now become. This should have a\nnegative multiplier, in order that the force should become zero; and\nthis it will have for a considerable distance around the vertices\nof all the polyhedrons, the negative value always covering as much\nas two fifths of the spherical surface about the centre of the\nmolecule, and compensating even in this case for its less extent by\na greater intensity, as the mean of this coefficient over the whole\nsurface is always exactly zero. Within this distance of no action,\nfor some space about the centre of the prevailing polyhedric face,\nattraction would prevail till the higher powers became sensible,\nand even (as it would seem) quite up to the centre in the case of\na single envelope, the repulsive action of which, when combined\nwith the slight force of the centre, would apparently be limited\nto quasi-ellipsoidal spaces extending out from each vertex, and\nhaving a longer axis equal to this outer distance of no action.\nBut this limitation of the repulsive action will be still greater\nif the excess of the absolute attractive power in the molecule is\nmore considerable, as long as the distribution of the force in the\ndifferent envelopes remains unaltered; and though the molecules can\napproach within tolerably short distances of each other in certain\ndirections, this is not objectionable, since such an approach may\neven be required for chemical union and cohesion. Introsusception\nwould hardly be probable, unless they were very different in size.\nThe compound molecule once formed, whether its components were of\nthe same or of different substance, might exercise a repulsive\nforce at a considerable distance in all or nearly all directions;\nnevertheless, it might still admit of further increase or of\ndisruption by an agitation among the molecules, due to heat, light,\nor electricity. Of course, even on this theory, for the maintenance\nof physical equilibrium the mean distance of the molecules would\nhave to be considerably less than that of no action, in order that\na repulsion should be produced to balance the attraction of those\nbeyond this distance. Still, if the excess of attractive force in\neach molecule, and consequently the size of each, be made small\nenough, their dimensions may still be small compared even with this\nmean distance; so that in no case, except that of chemical union,\nwould it be necessary to take account of the higher powers. Any\nmotion communicated from one molecule to another would then probably\nbe by means of an actual relative movement of the centres of gravity,\ninstead of by internal vibrations.\n\nIt may be worth noticing that a regular polyhedron--the elements of\nwhich exert a force not varying at all with the distance, and in\nwhich the absolute energy of the centre is precisely equal to that of\nthe vertices combined--gives a resulting force following the law of\ngravitation, at any distance compared with which its own dimensions\ncan be neglected; and within this distance the force will change\nits sign under the same conditions of direction as specified in the\nprevious case. But, as the intensity of this force will change with\nthe size of the molecule, it does not appear that a system of this\nkind would be admissible, since, besides the periodical change due\nto its own internal vibration, it would probably be changed in size,\nor even in shape, which would be worse, by compression or expansion\nof the mass; which would be the more likely, as the molecules could\napproach much nearer than in the former supposition. The law followed\nby gravitation also seems to be almost or quite necessary for forces\nradiating from a point.\n\nThe author's theory seems, on the whole, extremely plausible.\nThat each element of matter exerts a force following the law of\ngravitation, is almost demonstrable _\u00e0 priori_; that the elements\nare mere points, will also generally be admitted; that some of\nthe actions should be repulsive, is obviously necessary; that each\nmolecule is composed of a definite number of atoms, is suggested\nby chemical laws; and the polyhedric forms seem certainly the most\nreasonable, though crystalline forms would indicate that others\nmay be occasionally found. The possibility of the construction of\nirregular molecules out of elements of unequal powers seems, by the\nway, to be worth examining.\n\nFurther developments of the theory may have recently been made; of\ncourse, the author does not claim in this work to have laid down more\nthan its first principles. At present, it seems, to say the least,\nto furnish the best basis for the mathematical investigation of the\ninternal constitution of matter that has been suggested, and such\ninvestigations would be almost certain to lead to valuable results,\nwhether confirmatory or otherwise.\n\n\n\n\nTHE HOLY-WEEK OF 1869 IN HAVANA.\n\nPALM-SUNDAY. THE TENEBR\u00c6. MAUNDY-THURSDAY.\n\n\nSo much had been told me of the antiquated observances of the\nHoly-Week in Havana, of the religious processions presenting to us\nof the nineteenth century an image of the _na\u00eff_ faith of the middle\nages, of the rare spectacle of a whole city in mourning for the death\nof the Saviour, that even had my duty not called me to the church,\nmy curiosity would have carried me thither. As it was, I resolved\nthis Lent that, although I resided at an inconvenient distance from\ntown, and ladies who have no carriage of their own find it sometimes\nunpleasant to go on foot in a country where walking is unfashionable,\nand considered even unfeminine, yet I would disregard disagreeables\nof every kind, and attend all the impressive ceremonies of this great\nweek in the cathedral.\n\n\nPALM-SUNDAY.\n\nOn Palm-Sunday, then, at six o'clock in the morning, I got into\nthe nice, clean, well-managed cars that pass our door every few\nminutes all day long. The blessing of the palm branches was not to\ncommence until a quarter after eight; but I like to \"take time by\nthe forelock,\" and I also feared that, as the \"superior political\ngovernor of Havana\" had invited \"the grandees of Spain, the titled\nof Castile, the knights grand crosses, the gentlemen, (_gentiles\nhombres_,) and civil and military functionaries to contribute their\nassistance to render the religious acts more solemn,\" there _might_\nbe somewhat of a crowd, and so I determined to arrive betimes and\nsecure for myself a seat where I could both see and hear well.\n\nThe early morning in Cuba is always delightful, and this 21st\nof March was very bright and lovely, the sky intensely blue and\nwithout a cloud, and a cool breeze gently waving the tall tops of\nthe cocoa-nut trees, and rustling the light, feathery sprays of the\ngraceful bamboos. The white colonnaded houses of the _Cerro_ looked\nvery pleasant among their palms and laurels. _La Carolina_ was in\nfull bloom in some of the gardens, its spreading, leafless branches\ncovered with great plumy tufts of rose-colored filaments; honeysuckle\nvines and the yellow jasmine climbed about the railings, and the\nlarge, brilliant flowers of the _mar pacifico_ completed the floral\nlandscape with that bright \"bit\" of scarlet so agreeable to the\nartistic eye.\n\nAs we approached the city, however, the pretty houses became fewer,\nand the mean suburban shops and _fondas_ appeared more grimy than\never in the bright sunlight; their dirty awnings hanging in rags\nover the badly-paved, broken sidewalk. The houses, all of one or\ntwo stories, their exteriors washed with blue, yellow, lilac, or\napple-green, wore a general look of never being repaired, and their\ngay coloring was faded, spotted, stained, and smeared by the\nexceeding dampness of the climate. I had glimpses, too, as we passed,\ninto narrow streets so frightfully gullied and filthy that they made\nme shudder. The population of this part of extra-mural Havana was not\nmore prepossessing in appearance than its haunt.\n\nIn about half an hour we reached the _Campo de Marte_, (Field of\nMars,) a fine square which would be handsomer if it were bordered\nwith shade-trees. Now it is an arid plain, with a few straggling\nblades of grass in patches here and there. On one of the sides of\nthis place stands the magnificent mansion of the Aldamas, one of\nthe richest families in the island; on another side, the principal\nrailway station. A great number of volunteers, fine, stout,\nstrong-looking men generally, dressed in a blue and white striped\ndrill uniform, and armed with short swords and bayoneted muskets,\nwere mustering in the middle of the _Campo_, and a great rabble of\nlittle blackies surrounded them, gaping with admiration. At the\neastern extremity of the square we cut across the commencement of\nwhat used to be called the _Parque de Ysabel Segunda_; but her statue\nhas been pulled down from its pedestal, and the promenade has now no\nname. Here again, around the pretty fountain that represents Havana\nunder the form of an Indian maiden supporting a shield that bears\nthe arms of the city, and surrounded by tropical fruits and graceful\nplants, were plenty of flowers; the blue, crimson, and purple\nmorning-glories, that had just opened their radiant petals to the\nsun, were the most vividly-colored I have ever seen.\n\nPassing the Tacon Theatre, we soon reached the breach in the city\nwalls by which the cars enter. These old fortifications, built by the\nSpaniards to keep out the Indians and the English, are being slowly\ndemolished. A very fine white stone church is in progress of erection\nclose by.\n\nThe streets within the walls are well paved and clean; the houses\nmostly large and very strongly built. They usually form a hollow\nsquare, the centre being an open yard, containing a few shrubs. The\nwindows of all the rooms reach from the floor to the ceiling; they\nare without glass and protected by iron bars; thick inside shutters,\ninto which two or three glazed panes are inserted to admit the\nlight, close out any very bad weather, wind or rain. The sidewalks\nare usually not more than a foot and a half wide; they look like\nledges running along the sides of the houses, and are exceedingly\nuncomfortable for pedestrians, as I found when I descended from the\ncar at its stopping-place in front of the church _San Juan de Dios_,\nand proceeded on foot to the cathedral.\n\n_San Crist\u00f3bal de la Habana_, the metropolitan cathedral, is a large\nand handsome edifice; it dates from 1724, and although it has at\nthe present moment a very time-worn appearance, it was repaired\nand beautified only a few years since. Two towers and three doors\ngive an imposing air to the front; the arched nave within is lofty\nand spacious, and separated from the aisles by massive pillars of\nmasonry. The whole of the interior is painted in fresco, but is much\ndeteriorated by the excessive humidity of the climate. The high\naltar, constructed of beautiful jasper, under a dome of porphyry,\nsupported by columns of the same material, was built in Rome. On the\ngospel side of the chancel is the tomb of Christopher Columbus, whose\nashes, inclosed in a leaden box, rest within the very wall of the\nsacred edifice.\n\nFew persons had yet assembled in the church, and I quickly obtained\na seat on one of the benches that are placed along each side of the\nnave. I was much pleased to find myself exactly opposite to the\ncrimson velvet-covered arm-chair and reading-desk reserved for the\ncaptain-general, and to the less imposing but handsome seats intended\nfor the governor, grandees, and municipality. I was also just behind\na row of arm-chairs allotted to the civil and military functionaries.\n\nIn the chancel, concealing from view the honored tomb, was raised a\npurple velvet dais; beneath it stood the purple velvet-covered throne\nand reading-desk of the bishop. A great black flag with a blood-red\ncross in its centre leaned against the side of the altar, on which\nwas seen the emblem of our faith swathed in violet crape. An immense\nwhite curtain, very artistically draped, was suspended across the\nsouthern transept.\n\nAs the time passed, colored servants made their appearance every now\nand then, bringing their mistresses' small low chairs and little\ncarpets; for the Havana churches, like the Catholic churches of\nthe European continent, have no pews. These servants wore the most\nbrilliant liveries, such as orange-tinted indispensables, bright\ngreen waistcoat, and red swallow-tail coat, forcibly reminding one\nof the parrots of the Cuban woods. A complete canary-colored suit,\nsurmounted by a round, woolly, black head, produced a very droll\neffect. The little chairs were placed and the little carpets spread\nwherever it was possible, so that the marble floor of the space\nbetween the official seats was soon nearly covered. The greater\nnumber of ladies, however, had no chairs, but knelt, sometimes three\non the same carpet, during the whole of the ceremony; that is, from\neight till twelve, only changing their posture occasionally to\nsitting on the ground, with their feet doubled up on one side.\n\nA little before eight o'clock, the ladies began to arrive. Each one,\nafter she had knelt down and arranged the folds of her voluminous\ntrain to her satisfaction, dotted herself over rapidly with a great\nnumber of little crosses, and ended by kissing her thumb. This\nungraceful performance is only a hasty, careless way of making the\nthree signs taught by the church, which ought to be done thus: The\nthumb of the right hand is placed across the middle of the index,\nto represent the cross. The first sign is then made with it on the\nforehead, _Por la se\u00f1al de la Santa Cruz_--\"By the sign of the holy\ncross;\" the second on the mouth, _De nuestros enemigos_--\"From\nour enemies;\" the third on the heart, _Libra nos, Se\u00f1or, dios\nnuestro_--\"Deliver us, Lord, our God.\" The sign as it is made usually\nwith us, and a kiss on the cross represented by the thumb and index,\nterminate this Spanish process of blessing one's self.\n\nThe toilettes of some of the fair Spanish and Cuban ladies present\non this occasion were of rich black silk, with a black lace mantilla\nover the head, half shading the face and shoulders. There was an\nelegant simplicity in this costume that seemed to me to make it fit\nto be adopted in all countries as a dress for public worship. But\nthe great majority were attired in showy, expensive materials, quite\ndevoid of taste, especially in the choice and harmony of colors.\nBlack grenadine and lace dresses, with light belts, were numerous;\nsatin stripes of the deepest orange color were worn by tall, slender,\nsallow damsels; _vert d'eau_, that delicate water-green which demands\nso imperiously the contrast of lilies and roses, was donned by a\nstout dame, _couleur de caf\u00e9 au lait_; and one lady displayed an\nample, sweeping robe of that bright hue the French call _Bismark\ncontent_, which imparted an unearthly lustre to her natural green\ntinge that made my flesh creep. Lace mantillas over the head were\nuniversal. Most were black; but some young girls wore white ones,\nfastened to their hair with a bunch of rose-buds. There were a great\nmany blue silk bodices, of the style affected by Swiss maidens; and\nI remarked that the fat ladies were very partial to low dresses and\nshort sleeves, with handsome necklaces and bracelets. No one wore\ngloves, and every one carried a fan.\n\nThere was a great majority of expressive, intelligent faces among\nthese belles, and there were plenty of large black eyes, some very\nbeautiful; and there were pretty lips, which disclosed with every\nsmile two even rows of pearly teeth; but there was also a total\nabsence of that fresh, healthy look which, when united to youth,\nconstitutes beauty, whatever be the shape of the features, and\nwithout which no woman can be truly lovely. As I contemplated, from\nmy somewhat high bench, the colorless cheeks of the maidens, and the\nsallow, withered skins of the matrons kneeling on the marble floor\nbefore me, I remembered the temperate zone with heart-sick longing.\n\"It seems,\" thought I, \"very delightful, when one reads of it, to\ninhabit a clime where the trees are ever green, and the flowers in\nperpetual bloom; where snow and ice are unknown; but look at these\npallid girls and their faded mothers--poor, enervated victims of\ncontinual heat! And oh! the many physical miseries arising from want\nof active exercise, and the sluggish torpor that seems to invade\nthe soul as well as the body.\" And then the days long gone by came\nback to me; the days when \"life went a-Maying with nature, hope,\nand poesy;\" the days when I was young. \"How I pity you,\" I murmured,\n\"pale Cuban girls, who have never run free in the daisied meadows\nto gather spring violets and primroses; who have never rambled with\nlaughing youths and maidens in the leafy woods of summer, or sported\namong the dried fallen leaves in the cool, bright days of autumn, or\nmade one in a merry evening party around the sparkling, crackling,\nglowing winter fire!\"\n\nA startling yelp, accompanied by the whistling sound of a\nwell-applied whip, recalled my wandering thoughts. The _perrero_, in\nthe exercise of his duties, was ejecting a recalcitrant dog, which\nhad contrived to reach the chancel unobserved. This functionary, the\n_perrero_--_anglic\u00e9_, dog-man--is peculiar to the cathedral. In all\nthe other churches of Havana, the faithful are constantly grieved\nby the unseemly spectacle of dogs roaming at will within the sacred\nprecincts, even on the very steps of the altar. The _perrero_ is\ndistinguished by a dark blue serge robe, descending to his feet, and\nvery much resembling a gentleman's dressing-gown in form. Around his\nneck he wears, as a finish, a wide white frill. He carries, concealed\nin the folds of this unpretending and rather unbecoming costume,\na serviceable cowhide, which he uses with a will upon all canine\nintruders; and if he can, he concludes his admonishment with a kick,\nit being generally believed that a dog which has received this final\nhumiliation eschews the cathedral for the rest of his days.\n\nIn the mean time, a considerable number of persons had assembled in\nthe church, and the preparations for the blessing of the palms were\ncompleted. The highly ornamented branches had been brought in, piled\nup on great trays; the bishop's pastoral crook had been placed\nleaning against his throne, and the wax tapers were lighted. The\nclergy, hastening in procession to the great central door, which was\npresently thrown wide open, letting in a flood of light and warm air,\nannounced the arrival of the prelate. It was rather difficult to make\na passage for him up to the altar; for some good nuns had come with a\nshoal of little girls, who had been arranged so as to fill up every\ninterstice left by the occupants of the chairs and carpets; but it\nwas done at last, and he advanced slowly and with great dignity up\nthe nave, blessing all as he passed.\n\nThe prelate had scarcely taken his seat under the dais, when the\ndoors, opening wide again, gave entrance to the grandees, the\nmunicipality, and a number of military and civil functionaries. They\nwere ushered to the places assigned to them by four mace-bearers,\nhabited in the Spanish mace-bearing costume of three hundred years\nago, and much resembling in general appearance the tremendous Queen\nElizabeth's beef-eaters, who seemed to my childish eyes the most\nwonderful sight in the Tower of London. They wore loose red velvet\ntunics, trimmed with gold lace and fringe; the castles of Castile\nwere embroidered on the breast, and the lions of Leon adorned the\nsleeves; an immense double ruff around the throat; big, high, black\nboots and buckskin small-clothes, and a wide-brimmed hat turned up on\none side, with a red and yellow feather, completed the costume.\n\nThe military and civil officers were in full uniform, wearing their\norders and decorations; the noblemen and gentlemen in evening dress,\nand displaying on their breasts numerous ribbons and brilliant stars.\nThey were nearly all venerable-looking, gray-haired men, with that\npensive, dignified gravity of demeanor peculiar to the Spaniard.\n\nThe religious ceremony now began. The palm-branches blessed were all\ncuriously plaited and lopped, until they were but little more than\na yard high, only two or three small leaves being left at the top.\nThey were ornamented with bows of bright-colored ribbons, bunches\nof artificial flowers, and gold and silver tinsel butterflies. That\nintended for the prelate was covered with elegant gold devices and\narabesques. Each of the grandees in turn ascended the steps of the\naltar, and, kneeling, received one from the bishop, whose hand\nhe kissed, and then retired. When all had been distributed, the\nprocession was formed; but I must confess that it disappointed me\nexceedingly. I had expected to see a grove of green, waving palms\nmoving along amidst the hosannas of the multitude; but, as it was,\nall devotional and picturesque effect was totally wanting. I have\nsince been told that in the poorer churches, which cannot afford to\nbuy the plaited, lopped, and gilded sticks that the bad taste of\nthe people prefer, the simple branch, so exquisitely graceful, is\nperforce adopted, and the procession, consequently, a very pretty\nsight.\n\nIn the cathedral, the whole ceremony was cold and unimposing. There\nwas no summons from the outside, with response from within. There\nwas no triumphal burst from the organ when the Victor over sin and\ndeath made his entry; no anthem to remind us how the chosen will be\nwelcomed to heaven. The procession descended by the southern wing,\nand went out into the church porch, where the psalms appointed were\nsung; the great central door was then opened, and it returned up the\nnave to the altar.\n\nThe mass followed, and the bishop delivered a short sermon. His\nvoice was very agreeable, and his manner impressive.\n\nAs soon as the service concluded, every one hastened away. There were\nno loiterers--not even to see the prelate leave the cathedral, which\nhe did on foot, his violet silk train borne by one of the priests. It\nis, however, but just to remark--if excuse be needed for the haste\nwith which the church was cleared--that it was twelve o'clock, and no\none had breakfasted.\n\nI was pleased to meet a friend at the door, who insisted on my going\nhome with her, and I gratefully accepted the invitation; for I felt\ntired and faint. We accordingly got into her _quitrin_, and in a few\nminutes reached the welcome door.\n\nThe _quitrin_, the _private_ conveyance of Cuba, and an improvement\non the well-known _volante_, is a carriage somewhat resembling the\nvictoria, but with two immense wheels; it is swung, too, so easily\nthat a person not accustomed to the vehicle finds it difficult to\nenter. The shafts are exceedingly long, and the horse in them trots,\nwhile a second horse, upon which the _calesero_ rides, canters. This\nsecond horse is attached to the carriage by long traces at the left\nside, and a little ahead of the shaft-horse. The effect produced by\nthe different paces of the animals is very curious.\n\nThe _calesero_, or driver, is always a colored man; he is usually\ndressed in a blue jacket, (though green, yellow, and red are not\nunfrequent,) white drill waistcoat and trowsers, and high black\nleathern leggings, hollowed out under the knee and standing up\nstiff above it, resembling, in fact, the great boots worn by French\npostilions, minus the feet. These leggings are fastened down the\nsides with straps and silver buckles, and ornamented with large\nsilver plates. No stockings, but low-cut shoes, leaving visible\nthe naked instep, heavy silver spurs and a stove-pipe hat, and the\n_calesero_ is considered an elegant turn-out.\n\nThe breakfast was waiting; a Creole one, composed of soup made of the\nwater in which beef-bones, and especially beef knee-caps, had been\nboiled, flavored with onions fried in lard; of _vaca frita_--fried\ncow--little pieces of beef of all shapes, fried also in lard; of\n_ropa vieja_--old clothes--slices of cold meat warmed up with sauce;\nof _aporeado_--beef torn into shreds of an inch and a half long and\nstewed with a little tomato, green peppers, garlic, and onions, (this\ndish looks very like boiled twine;) of _picadillo_--meat minced as\nfine as possible and scrambled in eggs, chopped onions and peppers;\nof rice cooked with little pieces of fat pork and colored with\nsaffron; of very nice pork-chops, the best meat in Cuba, and very\ndifferent and far superior to Northern pork; of boiled _yucca_, and\nripe plantains, very delicious to the taste, resembling in flavor a\nwell-made apple charlotte. The bread was very good, and more baked\nthan it usually is in the United States. Claret and water was the\ngeneral beverage, and the meal finished with a cup of hot coffee\nenriched with creamy milk, boiled _without_ the salt and aniseed that\nCreoles almost invariably put into it. We were waited on at table by\ntwo admirably-trained Chinese, a people much and justly esteemed in\nHavana as house-servants and cooks.\n\nIt was nearly three o'clock when I at last reached home; but not\nuntil the next day did I hear of the four unfortunate men shot that\nafternoon in the streets, during the embarkation of the two hundred\nand fifty political prisoners for Fernando Po.\n\n\nTHE TENEBR\u00c6.\n\nThe following Wednesday morning, I reached the cathedral just as\nthe gospel was commenced. At the conclusion of the mass the service\nof the _Tenebr\u00e6_ was very impressively chanted. As I listened, my\nheart realized all the grief and desolation of that sad time. I could\nhear David bewailing his outraged Lord and Son; Jeremias lamenting\nover the ruins of Jerusalem, over the crucified Victim; dear mother\nchurch calling her children to repentance in supplicating, tender\nstrains; and the three devoted Marys sighing and weeping as they\nclimbed the steep of Calvary among the crowd that followed our\nblessed Saviour to the cross. At the termination of this mournful\nmusic, just as the confused murmur that recalled the noise of the\ntumultuous masses who, led on by Judas, came armed with sticks to\nseize Jesus, died away, a number of priests, completely enveloped in\nample black silk robes with long pointed trains, their faces entirely\nconcealed beneath high-peaked black silk hoods, advanced to the front\nof the altar and knelt in a row on the step before it. After a short,\nwhispered prayer, one of them arose, and taking the black banner with\nthe blood-red cross, which I have already mentioned, waved it for\nseveral minutes in silence over his companions, while they prostrated\nthemselves on their faces before the altar. It is impossible to\nimagine a scene more lugubrious; the black-robed figures lying\nmotionless, the mysterious hooded form that seemed to tower above\nthem, the sinister flag, the deep silence--all contributed to inspire\na sentiment of undefinable fear. Every one present knelt, and in\nunbroken silence the black banner was waved over us. When we raised\nour heads, the sombre assembly had disappeared and the chancel was\nempty.\n\nThis, I was told, is a ceremony that has been handed down from the\ntime of the primitive Christians of Rome; but no one was able to\nexplain the meaning of it to my satisfaction.\n\n\nMAUNDY-THURSDAY.\n\nMaundy-Thursday found me bright and early in the cathedral, and well\nplaced; for I was again just opposite the seats reserved for the\ncaptain-general and the governor, and just behind those intended for\nthe military and civil officers.\n\nWith the exception of the bishop's dais, throne, reading-desk, and\ncushion, which were now of white damask and gold, every thing was the\nsame as on Palm-Sunday. But the great white curtain had been removed\nfrom before the southern transept, and there was now to be seen a\nmagnificent golden sepulchre, under a white and gilded dome supported\nby columns. The statue of a kneeling angel adorned each side of this\nmonument, to which the officiating priest ascended by six carpeted\nsteps. Innumerable wax tapers in silver candlesticks were arranged on\neach side, their soft light reflected by the silver and gold drapery\nthat lined the vault.\n\nAs on Palm-Sunday, the floor of the nave was soon covered with\ncarpets and little chairs, all occupied an hour before the mass began\nby women and children, white and colored, of every social grade,\nfrom the delicate marchioness to the coarse black cook. Not even the\nmost elegant lady present seemed in the slightest degree annoyed by\nbeing elbowed, and her satin dress rumpled, by some pushing, saucy\n_morena_, (colored woman,) who planted her chair or stool just where\nshe could contrive to squeeze it in, with the most perfect assurance\nthat no one would question her right to do so. I remarked, too, that\nin the crowd of men who stood in the aisles, the whites and blacks,\nthe rich and the poor, were on the same terms and acting in precisely\nthe same manner toward one another; and I felt convinced that nowhere\non earth was such social equality to be met with as I witnessed in\nthe cathedral church of Havana.\n\nI was admiring this absence of all invidious distinctions in the\nhouse of God, and rejoicing in the thought that here, at least, the\nmaster had to confess himself weak and humble as the slave, the rich\npowerless as the poor, when two men forced room for themselves on my\nbench and by my side. One had the look of a low grog-shop keeper, the\nother of a whining street-beggar; both were shockingly, disgustingly\nfilthy; both snorted and spat in the most frightful manner, and in\nthe discomfort they caused me, I arrived at the conclusion that all\nmen are equal--yes, _except_ the clean and the dirty; and I fretted\nand fumed against the church officials who thus abandoned the\nfaithful washed to the inroads of the faithless unwashed. _Faithless\nunwashed!_--it is written wittingly; for I cannot credit that piety\nwill exist with filthiness of its own free will. No, sin and dirt\nare too often bosom friends; but cleanliness goes hand in hand with\ngodliness.\n\nI had, however, to bear and forbear with my unpleasant neighbors,\nwhose propinquity induced a train of thoughts somewhat at variance\nwith the solemnity I had come to witness. I remembered, among other\ndiscrepant subjects, the nickname given to the Spaniards by the\nCubans, _Patones_--\"Big-Feet\"--which appellation has frequently been\nused in skirmishes between the insurgents and the Spanish troops as a\nbattle-cry. _Viva Cuba, y mueren los Patones!_ \"Long live Cuba, and\ndeath to the Big-Feet!\" the rebels would shout, and the soldiers,\nvery naturally enraged at a personal defect being alluded to in\nsuch terms, would fight like insulted heroes. So I improved this\nopportunity, having a long row of Spaniards before me, to examine\ntheir lower extremities and judge for myself what truth there was\nin the discourteous designation. After a careful and impartial\ninvestigation, I believe that I can say with justice that, though\nthey do not possess the exquisitely-formed, fairy-like little feet\nwith which every Cuban, male and female, trips into this world, they\nyet cannot be accused of having large or clumsy ones. Most of the\nSpanish feet I saw were certainly much smaller than those of the\nEnglish or Germans, resembling, perhaps, those of the French.\n\nThe toilettes of the ladies were even more ball-like than on\nPalm-Sunday; nearly every one wore low-necked dresses and short\nsleeves, and many white kid gloves. Rose-colored, pale blue, yellow,\nand white silk robes trimmed with lace and a multitude of bows,\nand sometimes disfigured by preposterous _paniers_, were general.\nThe hair was artistically dressed and adorned with flowers, golden\nfillets, and bright ribbons, and the white or black lace mantilla\nthrown over the head was as small and transparent as possible.\n\nAt a quarter past eight, the bishop arrived with a numerous suite\nof clergy: as on Sunday, it was with difficulty he made his way\nthrough the sitting, kneeling, becrinolined, and betrained crowd that\nencumbered the centre of the church.\n\nVery shortly after, a flourish of trumpets outside announced the\ncoming of the captain-general. The great door was again thrown open,\nand he entered, preceded by the mace-bearers, and attended by Se\u00f1or\nDon Dionisio Lopez Roberts, superior political governor of Havana,\nand a brilliant _cort\u00e9ge_ of noblemen, gentlemen, and military and\ncivil chiefs. When all were seated, the scene as viewed from my\nbench was very striking. The resplendent sepulchre; the illuminated\naltar, at which the mitred prelate and his assistant priests were\nofficiating, all robed in white and gold; the long row of handsome\nuniforms on each side of the nave; the gay _parterre_ of fair ladies,\nand the crowd of spectators of every shade of color from white to\nblack that filled the spaces between the massive pillars and served\nas a background, all contributed to form a whole most picturesque and\nunique.\n\nThe beautiful service of Maundy-Thursday now commenced; during\nthe celebration of it, the ceremony of blessing the holy oils was\nperformed; and when the _Gloria in excelsis_ was chanted, the bell\nwas rung for the last time until Holy Saturday. At the elevation, I\nheard the silver staff of the _pertiguero_ resound several times upon\nthe pavement. The _pertiguero_ is, like the _perrero_, a functionary\npeculiar to the cathedral; his duty is to enforce _kneeling_ at the\nelevation on all strangers visiting that church at the moment. He\ncarries a long silver staff, called a _pertiga_, which he strikes\nwith a clang upon the marble floor when he perceives any one\ninattentive to the strict rule of the church--prostration in presence\nof the host.\n\nAfter the mass, the blessed sacrament was carried in solemn\nprocession to the sepulchre, the captain-general and the governor\nbearing the banner of the _Agnus Dei_, and all the grandees and\nmunicipality joining in it. The staves and cross-rods of the banner\nand of the magnificent dais held over the holy sacrament were all of\nsilver, and appeared to be very heavy. The host was deposited in the\nsepulchre, which was then locked, and the golden key fastened to a\nchain suspended by the bishop around the neck of the captain-general,\nto be brought back to the church by him on Good-Friday. The\nbeautiful hymn, _Pange lingua_, was sung very sweetly the whole\ntime; the Latin, which seems so hard and harsh in our English\npronunciation, sounding very grand and harmonious in these Spanish\nmouths.\n\nThe church cleared very rapidly after the mass; and when the last\ncarriage had conveyed its last occupant home, no vehicle of any kind\nwas permitted to pass through the streets of Havana. The soldiers now\ncarried their arms reversed, and all Spanish flags were at half-mast.\nThe city was in mourning.\n\nI was taken possession of by some kind friends as I left the\ncathedral, and accompanied them to their house close by, where we\nfound a welcome breakfast awaiting us. It consisted of fish and\nvegetables. We commenced with turtle-soup; but not of the kind so\nloved by Cockney aldermen, redolent of spiced force-meat balls and\nluscious green fat; this was an orthodox meagre soup, incapable of\ndoing harm. Then came a nice fried fish called _rabi rubio_--red\ntail, and fried lobster, all hot, which, however, I did not like\nas well as boiled lobster cold with a _mayonnaise_ sauce. To these\nsucceeded shrimp fritters, roast turtle, and a very delicate fish,\nthe _pargo_, the best in these seas, and sometimes caught as large\nas a large salmon, which it is not unlike in form. Our vegetables\nwere white rice, eaten with black Mexican beans stewed; yam, yucca,\nand slices of green plantain fried of a fine gold color, and very\ndelicious. Good bread, excellent claret, and native coffee with an\naroma resembling that of the best Mocha, completed this agreeable\nrepast, which had been enlivened by the pleasant conversation of an\nintelligent, generous-hearted Spaniard, and the smiles and jests of\nhis pretty Cuban wife and children.\n\nBreakfast over, my friend Pepilla and I, with the two eldest girls,\nDolores and Luisita, sallied forth into the silent streets to visit\nsome of the churches, previous to attending the ceremony of the\n_Lavatorio_--washing of feet--which was to be performed in the\ncathedral at three o'clock.\n\nThe quaint old church of _San Juan de Dios_ was the first we\nentered. Its floor of hard-beaten earth was encumbered with kneeling\nworshippers, mostly colored, in earnest prayer before a figure as\nlarge as life, representing our blessed Saviour dressed in a dark\npurple velvet robe, embroidered with gold; his hands tied together\nwith a rope; his head crowned with a gilded crown of thorns. Long\nblack ringlets of shiny hair shaded his emaciated cheeks and fell far\ndown on his shoulders behind.\n\nThe high altar, which is a curious work of bad taste, decorated with\nlittle carved wooden angels wearing black Hessian boots, was screened\nby hangings of gold and silver tinsel; and a gilded sepulchre,\nsurrounded by a great number of wax tapers, to be lighted in the\nevening, was placed in front of it.\n\nAs we came out of the poor little church, a dirty negro boy, followed\nby a dozen others, ran by us in the street, making a great noise with\na _matraca_, to the delight of his suite. This _matraca_ is a piece\nof wood about eighteen inches long and ten wide; on each side of it\nare affixed one or two thick iron wires of the usual size and shape\nof those old-fashioned metal handles to drawers and trunks, which\nalways used to slip out of their sockets when one gave a strong pull.\nWhen the instrument is shaken, these rattle against the wood, and in\nthe hands of an adept, and all colored boys are such, made a terrible\nclatter. From the _Gloria_ on Maundy-Thursday until the _Gloria_ on\nHoly Saturday, _matracas_ are employed instead of bells and clocks,\nand boys from the churches run through the streets with them, to\nannounce each hour of the day.\n\nThe sepulchre at _San Felipe_, a church whose interior is remarkable\nfor its air of bright cleanliness, was very tastefully arranged with\nflowers and tapers, and promised to look very brilliant when lighted\nup. There also was an image of our Saviour similar to that we had\njust seen.\n\nAt _Santo Domingo_, a large, handsome edifice, we found a magnificent\nsepulchre, in severer taste than the two we had visited. In one of\nthe aisles, also, there was a group large as life, and painfully\nlife-like. It represented our blessed Lord on the cross, the blood\nstreaming from his nose and down his pale, thin cheeks from the\nwounds inflicted by the cruel thorns of his crown; a ghastly gash in\nhis side; his hands tom by the dreadful nails; his wrists bruised and\ncut by the cords with which he had been bound; his knees so horribly\nscarified by being dragged over the rough ground that the bones of\nthe joints were visible; his feet mangled, his whole body cut and\nscratched and discolored by stones and blows. At the foot of the\ncross stood the holy Virgin, tearless, but with so heart-broken an\nexpression that to look at her was to weep. St. Mary Magdalen, her\nface pale, her eyes swollen and red, was kneeling near her. I could\nnot bear the sight of this agony, and turned away, saying to myself,\n\"Yes, it must have been like this!\"\n\nIn each of these three churches a nun was sitting at a small table\nwith a tray before her, to collect the charitable, voluntary\nofferings of visitors. This was the first time I had seen the\nslightest approach to money-asking in the Cuban churches. During\nthe rest of the year there never are collections of any kind made\nin them. Nevertheless, the ladies of Havana are very ready to\ncontribute, and do contribute liberally toward all religious and\ncharitable purposes; but privately, not publicly. Indeed, both\nSpaniards and Cubans are remarkably compassionate and generous to the\nbegging poor, whom they gently style _Pordioseros_--\"For-God-sakers;\"\nand whom they never send harshly away when unpleasantly importuned\nor unable to give, as we Anglo-Saxons so often do; but refuse with\na soft _Perdone, por Dios, hermano_--\"Pardon me, for God's sake,\nbrother;\" or, _Perdone, por Dios, hermanita_--\"Pardon me, for God's\nsake, little sister.\"\n\nIt was now time to return to the cathedral to secure places to see\nthe _Lavatorio_. We found but few persons there yet, and consequently\nhad a choice of seats. Some colored men were busy placing an image\nof our Saviour, similar to that we had seen in the church of _San\nJuan de Dios_, on one of the altars in the southern aisle, and it was\ntouching to see the veneration and love with which one or other of\nthem would raise from time to time a ringlet of the shiny black hair\nand kiss it.\n\nJust before three o'clock two long benches were set on the epistle\nside of the altar, and presently a large number of youths, attired in\ndark red robes, entered the chancel--students from the _Seminario de\nSan Carlos_, the theological college attached to the cathedral.\n\nThe beautiful anthem that is chanted during the ceremony of the\nwashing of feet, _Mandatum novum do vobis_, \"A new command I give\nunto you,\" contains the distinctive precept of our pure and holy\nreligion, \"Love one another;\" and I could not help thinking, when\nthe Bishop of Havana girded himself with a linen napkin and knelt\nhumbly to do his lowly task, that he looked as if it were to him a\nreal labor of love, so charitable an expression was there in his\neyes, such venerable grace in his manner. He was assisted by several\npriests, one of whom carried a large silver basin, another a silver\newer full of water. The water was poured over one foot only; the\nprelate knelt as he wiped it, and then kissing it, rose and passed to\nthe foot of the next boy, and so on. When all were washed and wiped,\nthe bishop, looking heated and tired, resumed the white and gold\nchasuble he had laid aside, and, crowned with his mitre, took his\nseat in front of the high altar, surrounded by his clergy.\n\nThe sermon then commenced; the subject was, as always on this day,\nthe institution of the holy eucharist. The preacher was a rather\nyoung man, of agreeable aspect, earnest in gesture and manner. His\nvoice was loud and clear, and the magnificent Spanish language\nresounded in harmonious and eloquent periods through the vaulted\nnave. I remembered, as I listened admiringly, the old Spanish\nboast that theirs is the tongue in which the Almighty can be least\nunworthily addressed, and it did not seem to me so vain and unmeaning\nas I once deemed it.\n\nWith the conclusion of the sermon, all the joy and love that had\nmarked the first part of the services of Holy Thursday disappeared,\nand grief and mourning now began again. Vespers and the _Tenebr\u00e6_\nwere chanted, and then the faithful withdrew.\n\nIn the evening all the inhabitants of Havana poured into the streets:\nthe captain-general, attended by his staff; the bishop, followed\nby his clergy; the governor and the municipality; the various\ncorporations; large family parties, and bands of young men and boys;\nall went from one illuminated church to another, seven being the\nprescribed number, to kneel before the splendid sepulchres, and pray\nwith more or less devotion. And having accomplished this duty, all\nadjourned to the _Plaza de Armas_, a handsome square, on one side of\nwhich is the palace of the captain-general, for the _retreta_; that\nis, to promenade while they listened to the military band, which\nplayed some sacred music very finely, and to eat ices, the pious\ntaking care that theirs were _water-ices_.\n\nThe brilliant moon of the tropics lighted up the scene, making all\nvisible as in the day, but with softer tones; beneath her beams the\nbeautiful eyes of the ladies seemed of a more velvety black, and\ntheir white teeth glistened whiter between their smiling lips. A\ngentle breeze, laden with the sweet odors peculiar to night in Cuba,\nsighed in the leafy boughs of the _Laurel de India_, and all seemed\nto me peace and good-will among men, until I overheard one Creole\nlady say to another, \"Your husband was a Spaniard, I believe?\"\n\n\"I have been the wife of two Spaniards,\" replied the _Cubana_; \"but I\nam happy to say that I have buried them both!\"\n\nSo I returned to my home deeply meditating on the loveliness of\nnature and the perversity of mankind.\n\n\n\n\nGOULD'S ORIGIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF.[11]\n\n\nIn this book the author considers what are the natural religious\nwants of man's soul; he shows how these cravings have given birth\nto various religious systems; he considers to what extent these\nsystems are capable of satisfying man's moral nature, including in\nthis survey every ancient and modern belief except Christianity;\nand proves that they have all failed in a greater or less degree.\nIn a second volume he intends \"to show how that Christianity by its\nfundamental postulate--the Incarnation--assumes to meet all these\ninstincts; how it actually does so meet them; and how failure is due\nto counteracting political or social causes.\" (P. 6.)\n\nIn other words, we have here a treatise on religion from the _\u00e0\npriori_, rationalistic or philosophic stand-point. The work is done\nas well as we could expect from a non-Catholic author. But like\nmost other books of the same stamp, written by those outside of the\nchurch, it contains many errors and false statements of facts. As it\nhas attracted no little attention, and may be considered as a type\nof a large class, we will give some quotations from it, to show how\ncautiously these books are to be read, and how little confidence can\nbe placed in their assertions.\n\nIn his preface, the author says that, besides the historical\nrevelation, \"We have a revelation in our own nature.... On this\nrevelation the church of the future must establish its claims to\nacceptance.\" (P. 6.) If Christ was God, as we firmly believe, or even\nan inspired teacher sent by God, the first and only thing necessary\nis to know _what he taught_. We must examine extrinsic evidence\nwhich bears on the inspiration, authenticity, and genuineness of the\nhistorical documents in which his teaching is contained. Intrinsic\nevidence derived from the examination of that teaching, and the\nconsideration of its complete harmony with man's spiritual nature,\nmust be assigned a second, not a first place.\n\nIn the following passages, which are certainly not a little\nridiculous, we have naturalism and materialism:\n\n    \"Mysticism is produced by the combustion of the gray vascular\n    matter in the sensorium--the thalami optici and the corpora\n    striata.\" (P. 355.)\n\n    \"Prayer is a liberation of force. When the emotions are\n    excited, rapid combustion of nervous tissue ensues, and the\n    desire that inevitably follows to do something is the signal\n    that an amount of power has been generated, and equilibrium is\n    disturbed.\" (P. 387.)\n\n\"Pantheism,\" we are told, p. 292, \"is the philosophy of reason--of\nreason, it may be, in its impotence,\" (most assuredly!) \"but of such\nreason as man is gifted with here.\"\n\nOn page 319, speaking of Kant, he says, \"All the arguments advanced\nby metaphysicians to prove the existence of God crumbled into\ndust beneath his touch.\" The truth is precisely the opposite.\nKant has \"crumbled into dust,\" and \"all the arguments adduced by\nmetaphysicians to prove the existence of God\" remain as unshaken as\nbefore he was born.\n\nWe are told, on page 79, that the chief reason why all men have\nbelieved in the immortality of the soul, is because they could not\nform even a conception of its annihilation. On the contrary, any one\nwho has ever slept soundly can conceive its annihilation without any\ndifficulty, though he might experience a good deal in endeavoring\nto picture to himself an existence without end. The doctrine of the\nimmortality of the soul, however, even in philosophy, does not rest\non any such weak arguments.\n\nThat most wonderful fact of history, in which the finger of God\nevidently appears, namely, the preservation of the Jewish people and\ntheir belief for the past eighteen hundred years, in the face of\ncauses which, according to every natural law, ought long ago to have\ndestroyed both creed and nation, is accounted for (p. 205) simply by\ntheir possession of \"the Talmud, which is a minute rule of life,\"\netc. _Credat Jud\u00e6us Apella._\n\n\"A man of thought will not steal, because he knows he is violating\na law of sciology.\" (P. 278.) Were all the men in the world\n\"sciologists,\" and \"men of thought,\" we would not be in the least\ninclined to trust our property to the slender protection afforded by\na law of \"sciology.\"\n\nEvery native of the \"Gem of the Ocean\" will be delighted to learn\nthat \"The suffering Celt has his Brian Boroimhe, ... who will come\nagain ... to inaugurate a Fenian millennium,\" (p. 407;) and students\nof history will be surprised to know that\n\n    \"Marie Antoinette was informed of the execution of Robespierre\n    by a woman in the street below the prison putting stones in her\n    apron, and then, with her hand falling on them, scattering them\n    on the ground.\" (P. 187.)\n\nMarie Antoinette was not alive when Robespierre was executed. The\nabove incident occurred in the life of Josephine Beauharnais.\n\nOn pages 133-134, we are told substantially that for the first three\nor four centuries after Christ, God governed the Christian world\ndirectly! Then, for a time, through the priests alone! Afterward,\nfor several centuries, through kings alone! Now the whole Christian\nworld is ruled solely by \"the open Bible!\" This is a good example of\nhow most non-Catholic writers, when speaking of religion, are always\nready to sacrifice historical truth for the sake of a generalization\nor a rhetorical flourish.\n\n\"Its primitive organization (that is, of the church) was purely\ndemocratic. It recognized the right of the governed to choose their\ngovernor.\" (P. 201.) We never knew before that the people of Ephesus\nelected Timothy to be their ruler, or the people of Crete, Titus. We\nthought St. Paul appointed both of them, and that he told Timothy,\n\"The things which thou hast heard from me before many witnesses, the\nsame commend to faithful men who shall be fit to teach others also,\"\n(Epis. to Timothy ii. 2;) and that he wrote to Titus, \"... ordain\npriests in every city, as I also appointed thee.\" (Epis. to Titus i.\n5.)\n\n    \"When Hildebrand gathered up the reins of government in\n    his powerful hand to transmit them to his successors, the\n    ecclesiastical elective primacy became an absolute supremacy.\"\n    (P. 201.)\n\nIn the _Arabian Nights_, if any difficulty occurs to interfere with\nthe plot of a story, genii or fairies are straightway introduced,\nperform very coolly some astounding act, and _presto!_ all goes\nsmoothly again. So, when Protestant authors, in writing history,\ncome across any fact that stands in the way of their preconceived\nanti-Catholic theories, and logic cannot remove it, they introduce\n\"priestcraft,\" \"Hildebrand,\" \"the cunning Jesuits,\" etc.; these\nprodigies shoulder the difficulty, walk off with it, and then \"it is\nall perfectly clear.\" \"Priestcraft,\" for instance, invented the whole\nsacramental system and foisted it on the church, _no one knows when,\nwhere, or how_. \"Hildebrand\" created the papal power. It did not\nexist before his time. \"The cunning Jesuits\"--ah! it would require\nmore than a _Thousand and One Arabian Nights_ to recount all the\nwondrous achievements of these mythological characters. Their latest\nact has been the convocation of the present \u0153cumenical council,\nwhich they rule with an iron hand. In fact, the editor of this\nmagazine, who is a member of the council, has written to us privately\nthat now their power and tyranny have become so great that when the\ncouncil is in full session you have to ask a special permission of\n\"the cunning Jesuits\" _if you desire to sneeze or even wink_! (Isn't\nit awful, reader? But this, you know, is strictly _entre nous_. You\nmustn't mention it to any body on any consideration, unless, of\ncourse--as is not at all impossible--you should hereafter learn the\nsame thing from the Atlantic Cable!)\n\nThe saints of the Catholic Church in modern times, we read, (p. 362,)\n\"are ecstatics, crazy nuns, and sentimental boys.\" Such, therefore,\nwere Sts. Alphonsus Liguori, Ignatius, Francis Xavier, Vincent de\nPaul, Charles Borromeo, Francis of Sales, Theresa, Jane de Chantal,\nand the two Catherines! Well, we live to learn!\n\nMr. Gould, in order, it would appear, to give an air of\noriginality--or, more correctly, aboriginality--to his book,\nchooses to employ the term _idol_ as signifying any representation\nof the Deity, (whether it receive divine worship or not,) even the\nintellectual conception or purely philosophic idea! \"Idolatry,\nthen, is the outward expression of the belief in a personal God.\"\n(P. 176.) According to this new nomenclature, we must style all\nChristians _idolaters_!\n\n\"A fetish is a concentration of spirit or deity upon one point.\"\n(P. 177.) So with sticks, stones, and snakes, he ranks the Sacred\nHost--the _Catholic fetish_!\n\n\"The attribution to the Deity of wisdom and goodness is every whit as\nmuch anthropomorphosis as the attribution of limbs and passions.\" (P.\n175.) So all worshippers of the Deity (for the impersonal \"God\" of\npantheism is simply no God at all) are _anthropomorphists_ as well as\n\"idolaters\"!\n\nThe last remark we have quoted from the author is not true. The\nsoul _alone_ is not the man; neither is the body alone; but _soul\nand body_ together. Whoever, therefore, attributes to God only\nthe spiritual attributes of man, cannot be properly termed an\nanthropomorphist. In any case, however, we most decidedly object to\nany one's applying to sacred things terms rendered opprobrious by\nlong and correct usage. The effect of such an act is to confuse the\nreader, and its tendency is to bring what is holy into contempt.\nPerhaps this was the author's intention.\n\nAs might easily be supposed from the foregoing examples, the writer\nof this book is one of the nineteenth century _illuminati_, and in\nfavor of \"unrestrained freedom of thought,\" etc., (the chief enemies\nof which are historical facts, sound logic, and common-sense.) We\nwill now listen for a moment while, in good orthodox Protestant\nfashion, he is \"shouting the battle-cry of freedom.\"\n\n    \"Sacerdotal despotism succeeded in the middle ages in\n    concentrating all power over consciences and intelligences in\n    the hands of an order whose centre was in Rome.\" (P. 138.)\n\n    \"The Reformation was a revolt against that oppressive despotism\n    of the Roman theocracy which crushed the human intellect and\n    paralyzed freedom of action.\" (P. 139.)\n\n    \"Under an infallible guide, regulating every moral and\n    theological item of his (man's) spiritual being, his mental\n    faculties are given him that they may be atrophied, like the\n    eyes of the oyster, which, being useless in the sludge of its\n    bed, are reabsorbed.\" (P. 140.)\n\n    \"Theocratic legislation hampers every man's action from the\n    cradle to the grave.... The Israelites are a case in point.\n    They were tied down ... lest they should desert monotheism for\n    idolatry.\" (P. 204.)\n\n    \"In a theocracy there is neither individuality, personality,\n    nor originality.... It has restrained independence, shackled\n    commerce, conventionalized art, mummified science, cramped\n    literature, and stifled thought,\" etc. (Pp. 207, 208.)\n\nWhat a pity that we poor \"Romanists\" are so \"benighted,\" etc., etc.,\nthat we don't in the least appreciate these modern Solons, who seem\nto think that every one should be \"progressive;\" that is, spend his\nlife in dragging himself out of one humbug only to fall into another;\nor, as the wise critic of _The Nation_ put it a short time ago, in\nspeaking of a story in THE CATHOLIC WORLD, a young man ought to be\n_like a ship_, and devote his existence to _sailing about_--on the\nboundless ocean, we suppose, of infidel nonsense![12]\n\nFinally, we read, (pp. 138, 139.)\n\n    \"'Strange destiny, that of theology, to be condemned to be for\n    ever attaching itself to those systems which are crumbling\n    away,' writes M. Maury; 'to be essentially hostile to all\n    science that is novel, and to all progress!'\"\n\nWe shall only remark that, were religion to spend her time in pinning\nher faith to all the \"novel,\" \"scientific,\" \"progressive\" systems\nthat spring up every day and straightway begin to crumble, even\nwhile these learned \"sciologists\" are tossing high their caps in air\nand shouting out in impressive chorus, \"Where now is theology?\"--it\nwould, we think, be even stranger still.\n\nWe have devoted this much space to showing up some of the falsehoods\nin this book because it is not all false nor all stupid; it is a\nphilosophic and, to some extent, a learned work; it is written in\na brilliant and attractive style. This class of works dazzle; but\nwhen written by non-Catholics, they are not to be trusted. _The only\ndeep, and, at the same time, sound scholarship in the world is in\nthe Catholic Church._ Those who protest against her protest against\nthe truth; even the most learned among them, on many most essential\nmatters, are surprisingly ignorant; but what they want in knowledge\nthey make up generally in flash rhetoric and humbug novelty, and that\nsuits this enlightened age just as well.\n\nToo many persons, however, when they see much that is true in a book,\nare inclined to believe it all true; and so with a considerable\namount of food they will swallow a great deal of poison. This is a\nmistake. No author is ever wholly wrong. The falsest say many things\nthat are true.\n\nTo show how error and truth may be found side by side in the same\nwork, we will give some quotations from our author in which his ideas\nare sufficiently, or even strikingly, correct.\n\nHe thus speaks of asceticism:\n\n    \"From whatever motive an ascetic life is undertaken, the result\n    is accumulation of force. The ascetic cuts himself off, as much\n    as possible, from all means of liberating force. His voluntary\n    celibacy and abstinence from active work place at his disposal\n    all that force which would be discharged by a man in the world\n    in muscular action and in domestic affection.... Withdrawal\n    from society intensifies his individuality, and, unless the\n    ideas formed in his brain be such as can excite his emotion,\n    he becomes completely self-centred. But if the object of his\n    contemplation be one which is calculated to draw out his\n    affections, the result is a co\u00f6rdinate accumulation of mental\n    and affectional power.\" (P. 348.)\n\n\"Luther, a man of coarse and vigorous animalism, was no ascetic.\" (P.\n350.)\n\nThe doctrine of Zwinglius, he tells us, was simply pantheism, and\nthat of Calvin he considers undeserving the name of Christianity.\n\n    \"Alongside of Mohammedanism must be placed a parallel\n    development in Europe, which, though nominally Christian, is\n    intrinsically deistic. Consciously it was not so, but logically\n    it was; and in its evolution it proved a striking counterpart\n    to Islamism.\n\n    \"Zwinglius had taught that God was infinite essence, absolute\n    being, (\u03c4\u1f78 Esse.) The being of creatures, he said, was not\n    opposed to the being of God, but was in and by him. Not man\n    only, but all creation, was of divine race. Nature was the\n    force of God in action, and every thing is one. Sin he held to\n    be the necessary consequence of the development of man, and to\n    be, not a disturbance of moral order, but the necessary process\n    in the development of man, who has no free-will.\n\n    \"Calvin's idea of God was quite as absolute as that formed\n    by Zwinglius, but it was not so pantheistic, though he did\n    not shrink from calling nature God. The Deity was to him the\n    great autocrat, whose absolute will allotted to man his place\n    in time and in eternity. Beyond the pale of the church, he\n    taught, there was no remission to be hoped for, nor any chance\n    of salvation; for the church was the number of the predestined,\n    and God could not alter his decision without abrogating his\n    divinity.\" (P. 266.)\n\n    \"He swept away the sacramental system; if he held to\n    Christianity, it was in name, not in theory, for his doctrine\n    excluded it as a necessary article. He deprived the atonement\n    of its efficacy and significance, and he left the Incarnation\n    unaccounted for, save by the absolute decree of the divine and\n    arbitrary will which he worshipped as God.\" (P. 267.)\n\nHe thus speaks of the Reformation and of its cardinal principle:\n\n    \"But what was the result of the Reformation? The establishment\n    of a royal along side of a biblical theocracy. The crown became\n    the supreme head to order what religion is to consist of, how\n    worship is to be conducted, and what articles of faith are to\n    be believed.\" (P. 139.)\n\n    \"The Scriptures were then assumed to be the ultimate authority\n    on doctrine and ethics; they were supposed to contain 'all\n    things necessary to salvation, so that whatsoever is not read\n    therein, nor may be proved thereby, is not to be required of\n    any man, that it be believed as an article of the faith, or be\n    thought requisite or necessary to salvation.'\n\n    \"This mode of arresting modification is not, however, final,\n    and cannot in the nature of things be final; for, firstly, the\n    significance of the terms in which the revelation is couched\n    must be subject to the most conflicting interpretations; and\n    secondly, the authority of the revelation will be constantly\n    exposed to be questioned, and the genuineness of the documents\n    to be disputed.\" (P. 134.)\n\nBuddhism he calls the _Protestantism_ of the East.\n\n    \"Its cold philosophy and thin abstractions, however they might\n    exercise the faculties of anchorites, have proved insufficient\n    of themselves to arrest man in his career of passion and\n    pursuit; and the bold experiment of influencing the heart and\n    regulating the conduct of mankind by the external decencies\n    and the mutual dependencies of morality, unsustained by higher\n    hopes, has proved in this instance an unredeemed and hopeless\n    failure.\" (P. 353.)\n\n    \"In confiding all to the mere strength of the human intellect,\n    and the enthusiastic self-reliance and determination of the\n    human heart, it makes no provision for defence against those\n    powerful temptations before which ordinary resolution must give\n    way.\" (P. 354.)\n\n    \"The mass of the population are profoundly ignorant of, and\n    utterly indifferent to, the tenets of their creed.... 'The\n    same results appear in the phases of Buddhism beyond India,'\n    says M. Maupied; 'in the north of Asia and in China it has\n    arrived at a sort of speculative atheism, which has not only\n    arrested proselytism, but which is self-destructive, and which\n    in the end will completely ruin it.' It is not a religion but a\n    philosophy. (P. 355.)\n\n    \"This close resemblance seems to have been felt on first\n    contact of Calvinism and Buddhism; for we find in 1684 the\n    Dutch government _importing at its own expense Buddhist\n    missionaries_ from Arracan to Ceylon to oppose the progress of\n    Catholicism.\" (P. 353.)\n\nHe is not in line with those, so numerous in this age and country,\nwho hold to the Chinese notion that intellectual and material\nprogress is every thing.\n\n    \"On the whole, it will be found that the amount of happiness in\n    a race not highly civilized is far more general, and its sum\n    total far higher, than that of an over-civilized race. The rude\n    and simple Swiss peasantry are thoroughly happy, while in a\n    large city like London, the upper stratum of society is engaged\n    in nervous quest of pleasure which ever eludes them, while\n    the lower is plunged in misery. Besides, what is really meant\n    by the progress of the species? The only tangible superiority\n    of a generation over that which has preceded it, appears to\n    consist in its having within its reach a larger accumulation\n    of scientific or literary materials for thought, or a greater\n    mastery over the forces of inanimate nature; advantages\n    not without their drawbacks, and at any rate of a somewhat\n    superficial kind. Genius is not progressive from age to age;\n    nor yet the practice, however it may be with the science, of\n    moral excellence. And, as this progress of the species is only\n    supposed, after all, to be an improvement of its condition\n    during men's first lifetime, the belief--call it, if you will,\n    but a dream--of a prolonged existence after death _reduces the\n    whole progress to insignificance_. _There is more_, even as\n    regards quantity of sensation, _in the spiritual well-being of\n    one single soul_, with an existence thus continuous, _than in\n    the increased physical or intellectual prosperity_, during one\n    lifetime, _of the entire human race_.\" (P. 59-60.)\n\nNor does he appear to believe in the Protestant method of converting\npeople, and causing them to \"experience religion.\" We read on page\n358 that, while Wesley was preaching at Bristol,\n\n    \"'one, and another, and another,' we are told, 'sank to the\n    earth. They dropped on every side as thunderstruck.' Men and\n    women by 'scores were sometimes strewed on the ground at\n    once, insensible as dead men.' During a Methodist revival in\n    Cornwall, four thousand people, it is computed, fell into\n    convulsions. 'They remained during this condition so abstracted\n    from every earthly thought, that they staid two, and sometimes\n    three days and nights together in the chapels, agitated all\n    the time by spasmodic movements, and taking neither repose\n    nor refreshment. The symptoms followed each other usually\n    as follows: A sense of faintness and oppression, shrieks as\n    if in the agony of death or the pains of labor, convulsions\n    of the muscles of the eyelids--the eyes being fixed and\n    staring--and of the muscles of the neck, trunk, and arms;\n    sobbing respiration, tremors, and general agitation, and all\n    sorts of strange gestures. When exhaustion came on, patients\n    usually fainted, and remained stiff and motionless until their\n    recovery.'\" (P. 358.)\n\nFinally, in speaking of the \"diverse forms of ceremonial expression,\"\nhe says,\n\n    \"Jacob leans on his staff to pray, Moses falls flat on his\n    face, the Catholic bows his knee, and _the Protestant settles\n    himself into a seat_.\" (P. 114.)\n\nWe don't know whether to prefer Protestant taste, or Feejee, or\nHindoo.\n\n    \"Thus, out of love to a mother, _the Feejee eats her_, and the\n    European erects a mausoleum. The sentiment is the same, but the\n    mode of exhibition is different.\" (P. 115.)\n\n    \"The Hindoo represents Brahm, the Great Absolute, absorbed\n    in self-contemplation, as a man wrapped in a mantle, _with\n    his foot in his mouth_, to symbolize his eternity and _his\n    self-satisfaction_.\" (P. 188.)\n\nWe remarked before that the author of this book displays considerable\nlearning. Here is a specimen which gives some pleasant information\nabout the old Saxon laws:\n\n    \"Three shillings were deemed sufficient compensation for a\n    broken rib, while a fine of twenty shillings was inflicted\n    for a dislocation of the shoulder. If a man cut off the foot\n    or struck out the eye of another, he was compelled to make\n    satisfaction with fifty shillings. Each tooth had its fixed\n    price: for a front tooth, six shillings were demanded; for a\n    canine tooth, four; and for a molar, only one shilling; the\n    pain incurred by a loss of a double tooth, however, led King\n    Alfred to alter this portion of the law, as unjust, and he\n    raised the price of a molar to fifteen shillings.\" (P. 364.)\n\nHe thinks that the idea of compensation, which is here certainly\nclearly set forth, gave rise to the religious idea of sacrifice.\n\nWe will close with a favorable specimen of his style. He thus\ndescribes Greece:\n\n    \"Under a blue sky, in which the clouds lie tranquil like\n    lodged avalanches, in the midst of a twinkling sea, strewed\n    with fairy groups of islands, is a little mulberry-leaf of\n    land attached to a continental bough, a little land ribbed\n    with mountain-chains of rough-hewn marble, veined with purple\n    gorges, pierced with winding gulfs; a land of vineyards and\n    olive-groves, where roses bloom all the year, and where the\n    pomegranate holds its glowing cheek to a sun that is never\n    shorn of its rays.\" (P. 148.)\n\nWe have given these quotations at length, partly because they are\na little remarkable as coming from such a source, but chiefly to\nshow that a book may be excellent in some respects, and nevertheless\ncontain very many most false things. Our end will have been attained\nif we have shown that whatever comes from non-Catholic pens, _even\nthe best, is not to be trusted_, whenever, directly or indirectly,\nmatters pertaining to philosophy, theology, or ecclesiastical history\nare treated of. These books at best are half-blind guides; and such\nare never desirable, and generally dangerous.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[11] _The Origin and Development of Religious Belief._ By S.\nBaring-Gould, M.A., author of _Curious Myths of the Middle Ages_,\n_The Silver Store_, etc. Part I. Heathenism and Mosaism. New York: D.\nAppleton & Co., 90, 92, and 94 Grand street. 1870.\n\n[12] \"And some indeed he gave to be apostles, and some prophets and\nothers evangelists, and others pastors and teachers.\"\n\n\"_That we may not now be_ CHILDREN, _tossed to and fro, and carried\nabout with every wind of doctrine_, in the wickedness of men, in\ncraftiness by which they lie in wait to deceive.\" (St. Paul to the\nEphesians, iv. 11, 14.)\n\n\n\n\nPLANGE FILIA SION.\n\n\n    Lone in the dreary wilderness,\n      Meek, by the Spirit led,\n    For forty days and forty nights,\n      Our Saviour hunger\u00e8d.\n\n    O night winds! did ye fold your wings\n      Ere, on that brow so pure,\n    Ye roughly smote the uncovered head\n      That all things did endure?\n\n    O rude winds! did ye on those eves\n      Only the flowers fill;\n    Or, with the drops of night, his locks\n      And sacred body chill?\n\n    He, the most lovely, most divine,\n      So lost in love for us!\n    Our evil-starred, sin-stricken race,\n      By him redeem\u00e8d thus!\n\n    We hear the audacious tempter's words--\n      Amazed, we hold our breath;\n    We follow him, the Holy One,\n      Sorrowful unto death!\n\n    Thus, may we to the wilderness\n      Close follow thee, dear Lord,\n    These forty days and forty nights,\n      Obedient to thy word:\n\n    Renounce the world, and Satan's wiles,\n      In blest retreat of prayer,\n    Self-abnegation, vigilance,\n      And find our Saviour there.\n\n    For vain the sackcloth, ashes, fast,\n      In vain retreat in prayer,\n    Unless the sackcloth gird the heart,\n      True penitence be there;\n\n    Sorrow for sins that helped to point\n      The spear, the thorn, the nail.\n    O Lord! have mercy upon us,\n      While we those sins bewail.\n\n    And in the lonely wilderness,\n      From world and sin withdrawn,\n    Our hearts shall cloistered be in thine\n      Till glows glad Easter's dawn!\n\n                                          SOPHIA MAY ECKLEY.\n\n\n\n\nUNTYING GORDIAN KNOTS.\n\n\nX.\n\nLADY SACKVIL'S JOURNAL.\n\n\"I have been playing the part of a peri at the gates of paradise.\nI have been watching Mary Vane with her child. My life looks to me\nunbearable. I am a blunder on the part of nature. I have the passions\nof a man and the follies of a woman. This is the last entry I shall\nmake in this book. Once for all I will put my agony into words, and\nthen throw this wretched record of three months into the canal, to\nrot with the other impurities thrown daily into the sluggish flood.\n\nWhen first I allowed myself to exercise my power over Vane, it was\nfrom mere coquetry and love of excitement. I wished to reassert my\nsway and punish his former cruelty. Later I dreamed of a Platonic\nlove, _\u00e0 la_ R\u00e9camier and Chateaubriand. True, one pities Mesdames\nde Chateaubriand, viewing them as a class; but they must suffer for\ntheir bad management. I did not recognize, I do not recognize the\nclaims of so-called duty; I lack motive. Virtue as virtue does not\nattract me; neither does sin as sin attract me. I want to have my own\nway. Gratified self-will has afforded me the only permanent enjoyment\nof my life; but it has this disadvantage. While you rule your will\nand indulge it for fancy's sake, the pleasure is unquestionable.\nWhen your will begins to rule you, there is no slavery so galling. I\nhad not thought of this; I know it now.\n\nOnce for all, I put my torture into words. _I love him._ Ten years\nago I buried my heart--in sand or sawdust, or something else,\nwhere grass and flowers cannot grow. It has risen now in an awful\nresurrection, and taken possession of me. He might have been all\nmine. I wish to hate his wife, and am forced to honor her profoundly.\nI _cannot_ leave this place. My will refuses to let me go. Oh! if\nI stay here and do not say one word, where is the harm? And if he\nshould utter the word I dare not say--\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAmelia paused shuddering. \"O subtle--O inexorable horror!\" she said.\nThen, enveloping the book in paper, she carried it out onto the\nbalcony, and dropped it into the canal, and heard the splash, and\nmarked with satisfaction its disappearance beneath the dull green\nwater.\n\n\"There--that's gone!\" she said, and re\u00ebntered the room. Her face,\nwhich reflected every change of mood, grew very white.\n\n\"It is _not_ gone!\" she cried; and pressing her hands to her breast\nexclaimed, \"It is here; it is my double--my bosom serpent! O God! how\nit gnaws!\"\n\nShe went to a press, and pulling open drawers and slides, sought\nsomething eagerly. Then, as if forgetting the object of her search,\npaused in deep thought, and finally rang the bell violently.\n\nJosephine came promptly, but unsurprised, being used to vehemence on\nthe part of her mistress.\n\n\"You may pack my trunks. I shall leave Venice to-morrow.\"\n\nThe maid proceeded to take out dress after dress and fold them. When\none trunk was packed, Lady Sackvil who had been standing on the\nbalcony in the blazing sun, looking down into the water, glanced over\nher shoulder.\n\n\"You may pack the other boxes another day,\" she remarked calmly; \"I\nshall not go to-morrow. Your dinner-bell is ringing; you can go.\"\n\nShe locked the door behind Josephine, and then returned to her\nresearches in the press. At last she produced a small vial of\nlaudanum, and, sitting down before the toilette-table, poured a\nlittle into a glass and paused. \"I wish I knew how much to take,\" she\nsaid ponderingly; \"it would be so tiresome to take too little or too\nmuch.\" Then she fell to considering herself in the mirror--looked\nanxiously at the faint commencement of a wrinkle between her\neyebrows; and pushing back her hair, revealed a gray hair or two\nhidden beneath the dark locks so full of sunny gleams. \"I will do\nit,\" she said, and then took a few drops; then paused again. \"I\ncan't--I won't!\" she said violently. \"I'm afraid; I'm afraid of\nhell--I'm afraid of that horrid, clammy thing they call death! I'm\nafraid of making poor, good little Flora miserable! Oh! I'm afraid of\nmyself, dead or alive,\" she moaned, rocking herself to and fro, in a\npassion of regret and pain.\n\nAt last the paroxysm passed. She poured back the laudanum, washed\nthe glass, replaced every thing accurately, and threw herself on the\ncouch. There, overcome by the drug, to which her healthy frame was\nwholly unaccustomed, she fell into a heavy sleep.\n\nThe plea of weariness afforded an excuse for going early to bed. When\nshe awoke the second time, the Campanile clock was striking two. A\nrain was falling, pattering on the canal, dripping and trickling from\nthe eaves and from the pointed traceries above the windows. She\ngot up, put on a white wrapper, and went out onto the balcony. The\nrain felt cool on her burning head. It drenched her to the skin, and\ndripped from her hair. Yet still she stood there, crying bitter tears\nthat brought no relief, shaken with sobs that she with difficulty\nprevented from becoming cries. She wrung her hands with grief, and\npassion, and pain. Night added nothing to the darkness in her soul;\ndawn brought neither light nor hope of change; and when at last she\nwent in from the cold, gray morning light, to change her wet clothes\nand creep into bed, it was to a second dose of laudanum that she owed\nthe temporary bliss of oblivion.\n\n\nXI.\n\n\"If you're looking for Mr. Nicholas, Miss Vane, he's gone down to the\nfirst floor,\" said Deborah, the morning after Lady Sackvil's visit.\n\nMary went to Mr. Holston's writing-room; no one was there; passed\non through drawing-rooms, dining-room, and ante-chambers, without\nmeeting a soul, and at last found herself standing outside Lady\nSackvil's music-room. Knocking and receiving no answer, she opened\nthe door, which moved noiselessly on its hinges, and lifted the heavy\ncrimson curtain. Her husband was standing with his back to the door,\nleaning against the mantel-piece. Lady Sackvil stood before him, her\nface buried in her hands. He spoke, but in a voice so hoarse and\ndissonant that Mary fancied for an instant there was a third person\nwith them.\n\n\"Be satisfied with your success, Amelia,\" he said. \"You have lighted\nthe fire of hell in my heart. You have turned my affections away from\nmy wife, who is too pure for things like you and me to love. It may\nadd to your satisfaction to know that there is one person on earth I\ndespise more than Lady Sackvil, and that person is myself.\"\n\nHe turned, and saw his wife standing in the doorway.\n\n\"How much have you heard?\" he asked calmly, without showing either\nsurprise or annoyance.\n\n\"Enough to make me say, 'God help us both,'\" she replied.\n\n\"Amen,\" he said, and left the room. Mary was about to follow him,\nwhen a look of entreaty from Lady Sackvil checked her. In another\ninstant Amelia was crouching on the ground, her face buried in\nthe folds of Mary's gown. There was dead silence in the room. The\nticking of the Louis Quatorze clock on the mantel and the flap of\na window-curtain were the only sounds to be heard. Charity pleaded\nfor the wretched woman kneeling at her feet. Nature cried, \"Follow\nhim; tear from him some consolation; make him wake you from this\nnightmare, and say he loves you!\" Charity conquered. Mary bent over\nLady Sackvil to raise her from the ground; but at the first touch,\nAmelia lifted her head, exclaiming, \"I will never rise; I will die\nhere unless you say you forgive me!\"\n\n\"How can you ask pardon,\" replied Mary \"for an injury you have only\njust completed?\"\n\nAmelia crouched still nearer to the ground.\n\n\"So help me heaven!\" she said in a voice of agony, \"I never meant\nto speak. He came to-day--oh! you who possess him, can't you see\nhow it happened; how I forgot every thing--resolutions, dignity,\ndecency--and spoke?\"\n\n\"Why do you say I possess him?\" asked Mary bitterly. \"You heard him\nsay that you had turned away his heart from me.\"\n\n\"I have not turned it toward myself. He repulsed me like a dog. Oh!\nif there were a hole underground where I could hide, I would crawl\ninto it.\" And she flung herself on her face with a despairing groan.\n\nMary knelt down beside her. \"We are both in the presence of God,\" she\nsaid; \"and I forgive you now even as I hope to be forgiven.\"\n\nAmelia rose with difficulty, made an effort to reach the bedroom\ndoor, tottered, and would have fallen but for Mary's assistance, who\nunlocked the door and helped her to a sofa. Then, looking round the\nroom for some restorative, her eye rested on a little vial standing\nin a crimson wine-glass. She took it up and saw that it was labelled\n\"laudanum.\"\n\n\"Have you taken any of this?\" she asked, carrying it to the sofa.\n\n\"Only yesterday--never before,\" Lady Sackvil answered feebly. \"It\nwould make me sleep now and do me good. You might give me a few\ndrops; or rather, no, leave it with me,\" she said, holding out her\ntrembling hand. \"I can take it, if necessary, myself.\"\n\n\"Wait a moment,\" said Mary, and going to the window, she threw the\nbottle over the railing. Then sitting down beside Amelia, she took\nthe feverish hand in both her own. \"Promise me, swear to me, that you\nwill not take that or any other narcotic or stimulant.\"\n\n\"You have prevented me from doing you the only kindness in my\npower,\" said Amelia, sitting up and pushing the hair back from her\ncrimson temples. \"You have forgiven me; you have treated me like the\nChristian you profess to be. I meant to repay you by taking myself\nout of this loathsome world.\"\n\n\"Repay me by living and repenting,\" answered Mary earnestly. \"Promise\nme not to make an eternity of this passing anguish. There is work\nfor you to do; there is heaven for you to win. Promise me to live,\nand to live for God.\"\n\nLady Sackvil looked at her silently for several minutes. Then she\nsaid, \"I acknowledge one thing--I acknowledge that you are good, in\nspite of circumstances.\" She lay down and turned her face to the\nwall. \"I will live,\" she said wearily, \"if you will help me to live;\notherwise I shall die.\"\n\n\"I will help you,\" Mary said. \"Now I must go. Shall I ring for your\nmaid?\"\n\n\"No. If Flora can come, I will have her; otherwise, I would rather be\nalone. I feel wretched and heavy, and shall fall asleep presently.\"\n\nMary found Mrs. Holston in her sitting-room. \"Lady Sackvil is ill,\nand wants you,\" she said breathlessly; for, now that her duty was\ndone, every minute seemed an age until she could see Nicholas. \"Don't\nstop me, please; I _must_ go.\" As she put her hand on the hall door,\nMr. Holston opened it from outside. She brushed by him without a\nword; but he saw her blanched face, and followed her with his eyes as\nshe ran up-stairs. \"The blow has fallen,\" he said to himself, as he\nhung his hat in the hall. \"Poor, poor child!\"\n\nShe went to the study door and turned the handle. It was locked. She\npaused a moment, thinking her husband would admit her; then walked\non through the gallery to her own room, shut the door, and sat down\nin her little sewing-chair. She was stunned; mercifully stunned. It\nall seemed a dream, from which there would soon be an awakening. Of\ncourse, it could not be true that her husband had shut her out from\nhis confidence. She felt too dull to understand all this. \"God knows\nwhat it means,\" she said half-aloud; \"I don't.\" How far from her\neyes seemed the tears, crowded back, as it were, to make the weight\non her heart more unbearable. \"Some women faint or cry out when they\nare hurt,\" she thought idly; \"I wonder why I don't? I feel so dumb,\nso gray, so smothered.\"\n\nA knock came at the nursery door. Dragging one foot after the other,\nshe went and opened it. Deborah started at sight of her face, but\nmade no comment. \"It is time to take baby,\" she said cheerfully. \"The\ncap'n's asking for you. He can't think what's become of you.\" Mary\ndarted past her and ran out into the gallery.\n\n\nXII.\n\nNicholas was sitting at the study table, looking over papers. He rose\nand drew forward a chair for her, and then sat down again.\n\n\"The best thing that could happen, under the circumstances,\" he said,\n\"has come to pass. I am appointed to join the French army in the\nCrimea, for purposes of study. Here is the appointment. These are\nletters from General Scott and from the Secretary of War. Just glance\nat them, if you please.\"\n\nShe read them, almost without comprehending their meaning. \"When do\nyou go?\"\n\n\"To-morrow morning. It is the best thing to do, under the\ncircumstances.\"\n\n\"Yes, the best under the circumstances,\" she repeated after him. He\nlooked at her anxiously, but said nothing.\n\n\"What are you to take with you?\" she asked, rising from her chair. \"I\nmust go and look over your clothes.\"\n\n\"All the military traps I have here, of course; not much besides, for\nI would rather buy what I want. Don't trouble yourself, my--\" He\npaused. \"I will see to every thing.\"\n\n\"No, I want to do it myself,\" she said.\n\n\"I must go and speak to Holston about your money matters while I am\ngone. He will do every thing a brother could do.\"\n\n\"Every thing,\" she said. He looked at her again uneasily, and seemed\nabout to speak; then left the room. \"I've killed her,\" he thought;\n\"but words are mere insults now.\"\n\nHe was gone, and without one word of explanation. It was, then, no\nnightmare, to be dispelled by a change of posture. There was no\nawakening for her. It was all true!\n\n\nXIII.\n\nMary was alone with the baby. Georgina's tiny hand was clasped\naround her mother's finger; rosy cheek and dewy lip invited many a\nloving maternal caress. At least here was love, without anxiety or\nheart-ache. \"My love for this child, to whom I have given life, is\nfaint in comparison to God's love for his creatures,\" she thought.\n\"My soul shall rest on him, as Georgie rests in my arms. He knows the\nway out of this blackness. I will follow him trustfully.\"\n\nThe day was hard to bear; wife's work without wife's consolation.\nSewing, sorting, packing, filled the hours too closely to leave much\ntime for active grief. They were services that could easily have been\nperformed by a servant; but Mary, amid the perplexity which clouded\nher life, kept one purpose clearly before her--to fulfil her duties\nthoroughly toward her husband, and even toward the unhappy woman who\nhad poisoned her happiness, and thus prevent further entanglement.\n\nThe dinner hour, whose claims prevail over every other external\ncircumstance in life, was lived through, thanks to the presence of\nItalian servants, who do not expect friends to look happy on the eve\nof separation, and are ready to melt into tears of sympathy at a\nmoment's warning. Vane passed the evening in his study, transacting\nbusiness with Mr. Holston and a lawyer; Mary in his dressing-room,\nattending to \"last things.\"\n\nAt intervals through the weary night she heard him moving about in\nthe library. About five o'clock, the peculiar click of the hall door\ntold her that he had gone out. Then came two hours of sleep, and\nmemory's dreadful reckoning when she awoke.\n\nBreakfast was served at nine o'clock. After going through the dismal\nform which represents eating on such occasions, Nicholas went to the\nwindow to watch for the gondola. \"Will you come here, Mary?\" he said.\n\nShe went to him, and measured despairingly, as he talked to her, the\ngulf which separated them spiritually while they stood side by side.\n\nAfter giving various directions as to material arrangements during\nhis absence, he said, \"I went to confession this morning, and to your\nPadre Giulio.\" She looked up eagerly into his sad face, stern with\nthe rigidity of repressed emotion. \"After confession, I saw him in\nhis own room, and told him all the circumstances of the last three\nmonths, out of the confessional, in order that you may feel free to\nseek from him the advice and consolation I have shown myself unfit to\ngive you.\"\n\n\"I don't want to speak of these things to any one,\" Mary answered.\n\n\"I have no right to urge you,\" he said; \"but you will oblige me\nvery much by speaking to him once, at least, upon the subject. I\ncannot tell you the weight it added to my self-reproach to find him\nignorant of the wrongs you have suffered, knowing as I do the entire\nconfidence you repose in him personally. You have been very loyal to\nme, Mary; I shall never forget it.\"\n\n\"Of course, I told him nothing concerning any one but myself.\"\n\n\"I have another favor to ask, which I should not ask if you were like\nother women.\"\n\n\"What is it?\"\n\nHe took a note from his desk, and gave it to her unfolded. \"After\nreading that, I beg you to give it to Lady Sackvil.\"\n\nShe flushed, and a slight trembling passed over her. Then she folded\nthe note and put it into her pocket. \"I will give it to her without\nreading it. I trust you.\"\n\nNicholas looked at her with an expression of reverence in his face.\n\"I will earn the right to tell you how deeply I honor you,\" he said.\n\"Any thing I could say now would appear like a new phase of moral\nweakness; but I will earn the right to speak.\"\n\nAs Mary met his eyes, fixed upon her with a look of reverential\ntenderness, her heart cried out for him. She longed to throw herself\nupon his breast; to urge him to put off this dreadful parting,\nand treat the wretched delusion he had yielded to as a dream. But\nsomething unanswerable within her soul warned her to let him leave\nher, that his resolutions might grow strong in solitude; that he\nmight learn by aching experience the worth of the love and sympathy\nhe had slighted. Therefore, she only said, \"All will be well; I know\nit, I feel it.\" And he answered, \"I accept your words as a prophecy,\nand thank God for them. One favor still I must ask. Mary, you will\nwrite to me?\"\n\n\"Constantly.\"\n\n\"God bless you. Holston will find out when the mails go. It will be\nthe one happiness of my life to look forward to your letters, which\nmust give me every detail about yourself and about our child. Mary,\nit will be my one earthly hope to look forward to the time which\nshall end my exile.\"\n\nThe gondola was at the door, and George Holston had already taken\nhis place in it. Vane clasped his wife's hands in his, kissed them\npassionately, and rushed from the room.\n\n\nXIV.\n\n\"I never knew her to faint before,\" Deborah's voice was saying, as\nMary emerged from an abyss of peaceful oblivion, to find herself\ndeluged with _eau de Cologne_, and lying on the bed in her own room.\n\n\"Poor little soul!\" answered Mrs. Holston's gentle voice. \"It was a\nterrible shock, his going so suddenly. But, hush now, she is coming\nto herself.\"\n\nNo, not to herself; to a consciousness of nameless agony; to a sense\nof restlessness, without physical strength for action; to a crushing\nweight of misery which she must ask no living soul to share.\n\nAfter some minutes, which seemed like hours of struggling to recover\nbreath, and voice, and senses, she succeeded in thanking her kind\nnurses, and asking them to leave her alone for a little while.\n\nAn hour's solitude had restored her to complete consciousness, when\na servant knocked on the door and asked whether she had any further\noccasion for the gondola, which had returned from carrying Captain\nVane to the steamer. Her husband's request that she would see Padre\nGiulio occurred to her. Life must be taken up somewhere; why not in\nthe performance of that duty, which would become harder with every\nday it should be deferred?\n\nIf she called upon Deborah for assistance, she would be prevented\nfrom leaving the house; so her preparations must be made alone.\nGiving orders for the gondola to wait, she put on hat and shawl with\ntrembling hands, and walked down the long flights of marble stairs,\nholding on to the balustrade for support. It was useless to attempt\nher mission in that condition; perhaps an hour's row that soft, gray,\novershadowed morning might restore her nerves to equilibrium. \"Put\nup the awning and row on the lagoon for an hour,\" she said to the\ngondoliers. \"Then take me to the Piazza San Marco without my giving\nyou any further directions.\"\n\nThrough the open windows of the ducal palace she could see tourists\nwandering about, _Murray_ in hand. Soldiers were lolling under\nthe arcades; sight-seers were hurrying through to and fro, taking\nadvantage of the cool day to get through a double amount of work. A\nsacristan was cleaning down the steps of Santa Maria della Salute,\nflinging away the broom, and sitting down to rest after the labor of\nsweeping each step.\n\nThen came a long period of quiet, broken only by the steady dip of\noars, and an occasional remark in gondolier slang made by the two\nboatmen. Pearly sky and pearly sea, a soft breeze and monotonous\nmotion exercised a soothing influence over poor Mary, who never\nresisted comfort, no matter in how homely a form it might come. On\nthe steps behind the Armenian convent sat a monk, looking over the\nlagoon. He was a commonplace old man enough in appearance, some\ninsignificant lay brother resting from his labors in the garden.\nHe saw the boat approach, and noticed probably the expression of\nsuffering on Mary's face; for as she passed, a look of kindness,\nthat was in itself a benediction, came into his wrinkled, brown face,\nand sank into her poor wounded heart, never to be forgotten. From\nthat day she remembered the old Armenian in her prayers as one who\nhad helped her in the sorest trial of her life.\n\n\nXV.\n\nIn the afternoon came Mrs. Holston, for once in her life in a hurry.\n\"I am ashamed to disturb you,\" she said to Mary. \"I am ashamed to say\nwhy I have come. Amelia is behaving in the most extraordinary manner.\nShe refuses to get up, and refuses to see the doctor. She says no one\ncan do her any good except you. I told her she was very selfish, and\nshe said she didn't care; so now I can only ask you, for charity's\nsake, to come down and speak to her.\"\n\n\"Certainly,\" said Mary, by a stupendous effort speaking in a natural\ntone; \"I will come in a few minutes. I have a little note for your\nsister from my husband that she may be glad to get. Did he find time\nto come and bid you good by?\"\n\n\"Yes, indeed, but he looked dreadfully worried and unhappy, of\ncourse. I think it extremely ill-natured of the War Department to\nmake him leave home so suddenly. That must have been what made you\nlook so frightfully ill yesterday morning. I was very much alarmed\nabout you.\"\n\n\"I will follow you directly,\" said Mary, escaping to her own room for\na moment of preparation before facing the enemy of her peace.\n\nBut that her peace was hopelessly shaken, she no longer feared. The\ninterview with Padre Giulio had been full of consolation; for to this\nimpartial listener Vane had said many things that the fear of seeming\ninsincere had prevented him from expressing to his wife. It was\nplain that delicacy toward herself and compassion for Lady Sackvil\nhad made him leave Venice. She now felt that it would show a lack of\nfaith to doubt that the future would bring happiness to them both;\nthat their reunion would be one such as death itself confirms instead\nof severing.\n\nShe found Lady Sackvil looking enchantingly lovely. Her hair, dark\nbrown, with golden red lights in it, was plaited in two great braids;\nher cheeks were flushed; her eyes were closed, showing their long\nlashes and large, full lids to advantage. By the quivering of her\nlips, Mary knew that she felt who was with her; but it was some\nminutes before she opened her eyes.\n\n\"It was kind in you to come,\" she said at last, looking up into\nMary's face. \"I am very grateful. Flora says I'm horribly selfish to\nsend for you, and no doubt I am; but it is better than going crazy, I\nsuppose.\"\n\nMary laid her hand on the throbbing forehead, and felt the quick\npulses. \"Do you feel really ill?\" she asked; \"or is this merely a\nstate of nervous excitement?\"\n\n\"I'm not ill. I was never seriously ill in my life. I am only going\ndistracted. I had an idea you might do something for me.\"\n\n\"The first thing to be done is to quiet your nerves and reduce the\nfever. Then we will think of other remedies. I will get Flora's\nlittle medicine-chest, and see what its resources are.\"\n\nThe morning passed quietly in tending Lady Sackvil, varied by\noccasional visits to the nursery. It was hard to bear, \"but no harder\nthan any thing else would be now,\" thought Mary. \"If I can save this\npoor soul, it will be worth suffering great as this.\"\n\nBy two o'clock, Amelia was physically more tranquil. Her health\nhad always been excellent, and her temperament, though utterly\nundisciplined, by no means inclined to morbid excitability.\n\n\"I have a note for you,\" said Mary; \"will you read it?\"\n\n\"From whom?\"\n\n\"From my husband.\"\n\nLady Sackvil shuddered, and turned away.\n\n\"Don't give it to me,\" she said. \"Read it, and tell me what it says.\"\n\nMary read it through to herself; then, mastering her voice, read\naloud the following words:\n\n\"I was unjust to you yesterday. I treated you with cruelty. For what\nhas happened, I am more responsible than you, because I have been\nunder better influences. We shall never meet again. God bless you,\nand grant us both genuine repentance!\"\n\nAmelia made no comment or reply. A quarter of an hour later, she\nsaid, \"You go to confession very often, I suppose?\"\n\n\"Once a week.\"\n\n\"Who is your confessor?\"\n\n\"Padre Giulio, at St. Mark's.\"\n\n\"Is he old?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Wise?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Kind?\"\n\n\"Very kind.\"\n\n\"I should like to see him. I don't suppose that I intend going to\nconfession, but I want to talk with such a man. Has he had much to do\nwith making you what you are?\"\n\n\"He has given me good advice, and I have tried to follow it, if that\nis what you mean.\"\n\nLady Sackvil looked at Mary fixedly for some time.\n\n\"I made up my mind, a short time ago,\" she said, \"that the thing\nmost likely to convince me of the direct influence of God would be\nto see a Christian whose character would bear scrutiny under the\nseverest test. I have seen such a Christian in you. Most women would\nhave spurned me away in disdain; you have treated me like a sister. I\nthank you for it, and I should like to believe what you believe.\"\n\nMary smiled at the reasoning, but thanked God for the conclusion.\n\"You would find Padre Giulio very sympathizing,\" she said; \"I think\nit would soothe you to see him. Shall I send for him to come here?\"\n\n\"On no account. I will go to him if you will come with me. Do come\nwith me; I will bless you all my life,\" she added pleadingly.\n\n\"Of course I will go, but not to-day. If you were to take cold now,\nit might be the death of you. To-morrow morning we will go to St.\nMark's, and I will send him word, that we may be sure of finding him\nat home.\"\n\nLady Sackvil looked disappointed. \"I would rather go to-day. I want\nto have it over.\"\n\n\"There's no occasion to wish to have it over,\" said Mary soothingly.\n\"An experienced confessor is too well used to dealing with mental\nsuffering to wonder at it, no matter in what shape it comes.\"\n\nLady Sackvil lay with her eyes shut a long time. At last she said,\n\"I've not been much of a Bible reader, but I remember well that it\nrequired only the sight of one miracle to convert sinners in those\ndays. I suppose sinners are very much the same in the nineteenth\ncentury that they were in the first.\"\n\n\"No doubt,\" said Mary, and waited to hear more.\n\n\"Your conduct toward me is, in my opinion, a greater miracle than the\nraising of the dead. Nothing but supernatural strength could have\nsustained you.\"\n\n\"If I have done any thing remarkable, it has certainly been God's\ndoing, not mine.\"\n\nLady Sackvil lay still some time longer. Then she said abruptly,\n\"I am clever, I know, but I am not intellectual; and intellectual\nsatisfaction is not what I demand in order to become a Christian. If\nyou were to lay before me all the tomes of all the theologians, they\nwould not convey to my mind one single definite idea.\"\n\n\"You were educated a Catholic, weren't you?\"\n\n\"Yes, after a fashion. I was carefully prepared for confirmation in\na convent school, where I spent six months, while my aunt was in\nEurope.\"\n\n\"Then you feel more inclined toward Catholicity than to any other\nform of religion?\"\n\n\"Certainly. If I am going to be good, I mean to be decidedly so. The\nchurch demands more than any sect, and I respect her for that reason.\nLike St. Christopher, I wish to serve the strongest master. Then,\ntoo, the teaching at the convent made a deeper impression on me than\nI supposed; and now that I need support, it all comes back to me.\nLast, and not least, I wish to believe as you do. You are the best\nChristian I have ever seen.\"\n\n\"Your experience in Christians must have been limited, I think,\" said\nMary, smiling.\n\n\"Perhaps so; but I am quite satisfied to have you for my standard.\nWhy, are you going? Oh! please don't leave me. I can't bear to be\nalone.\"\n\n\"I must go now. I will come to-morrow at eleven o'clock, and if you\nfeel equal to the effort, we will go to San Marco.\"\n\n\"I shall feel equal to it physically,\" said Lady Sackvil. \"It's very\nprovoking. I meant to have a brain-fever and die, and I feel better\nevery minute. I wish you had not come to take care of me.\"\n\n\"This is the beginning of your heroic virtue, I suppose,\" said Mary;\n\"these are the first fruits of conversion. Good-by, neophyte! Disturb\nyourself about nothing; remember only that God loves us with a love\ntoo deep to be fathomed.\"\n\nAnd then she went home, and sat down by the ashes that Lady Sackvil\nhad left on her domestic hearth.\n\n\nXVI.\n\nIn the morning, she found Lady Sackvil taking breakfast in her own\nroom, looking pale and worn from the effects of reaction from fever\nand excitement. \"How do you feel?\" she asked.\n\n\"Horribly cross. I think all other sensations are merged in\nill-temper.\"\n\n\"A certain sign of convalescence. I am glad to see it.\"\n\nAmelia laid down her egg-spoon, and sank back in her chair. \"I wish,\"\nshe remarked, \"that it had pleased Heaven to make some variety in the\nshape of hen's eggs. I am so tired of seeing them always oval.\"\n\n\"You don't want any of these things, do you?\" asked Mary, surveying\nthe rather solid repast on the table.\n\n\"No--I can't bear the sight of it,\" said Amelia wearily.\n\n\"Rest on the couch until I come back.\" And Mary arranged the cushions\nwith a skilful hand, and left the room noiselessly.\n\nPresently she returned, bearing on a pretty little tray a glass\nfilled with some frothy preparation, and two transparent wafers.\nAmelia revived at the sight. \"I have dreamed of such things,\" she\nsaid. \"This is the very apotheosis of breakfast!\"\n\n\nXVII.\n\nMary left Lady Sackvil with Padre Giulio, and went into the church to\npray for the happy result of the interview. She had passed some time\nat the Lady chapel, with its brazen gates and oriental lamps, and\nbefore the jewel-incrusted high altar, and was kneeling in the chapel\nof the Blessed Sacrament, when she heard the door of the confessional\nbehind her open. She looked round. Padre Giulio had entered the\nconfessional; Lady Sackvil was kneeling at the grating.\n\nShe was sitting within the railing of the chapel when Amelia joined\nher. Mary looked at the beautiful creature; there was a peaceful\nsmile on her lips, a holy light in her eyes; the pride, the caprice,\nthe egotism were not there; she looked like a penitent child.\n\nAs they passed through one of the sombre side aisles, Amelia paused\nbefore the crucifix hanging on the wall. \"I have confessed my sins\nand received absolution,\" she said; \"are you willing to kiss me?\"\n\nAnd so the sign of peace was exchanged before the image of the great\nreconciler; and they passed out from the shadows of those grand old\narches into the sunshine of the Piazza.\n\n\n\n\nTHE IRON MASK.\n\n\nThrough an oversight, the article on the Iron Mask in our March\nnumber, which had been lying on hand several months, was sent to the\nprinter without its necessary complement, which we now publish.\n\nIn January, 1869, it was announced in the _Moniteur Universel_ that\nM. Marius Topin, a young author who had already distinguished himself\nby a work of remarkable historical research, had succeeded, by dint\nof laborious examination and the intelligent study of a mass of\nold official documents, in unearthing the secret of that sphinx of\nhistory--the Man with the Iron Mask.\n\nM. Topin did not at once make known the result of what he claimed\nto be his entirely triumphant solution of the enigma, and publish\nhis work in book form. He doubtless reflected that, as the world\nhad waited in patient expectation more than a hundred and fifty\nyears for the revelation of the mystery, it might readily summon up\nsufficient resignation to wait a few months longer. He accordingly\nannounced that the successive chapters of his work would appear\nfrom time to time in _Le Correspondant_, a highly respectable Paris\nsemi-monthly. The first number of his series was published on the\n25th of February, 1869, and the last, making seven in all, on the\n11th of November. We have received, as they appeared, all the numbers\nof the _Correspondant_, and are therefore enabled to present from the\nauthor's own articles the following statement of the result of what\nhe has written.\n\nM. Topin could not deny himself that universal enjoyment of the\nstory-teller--to hold his auditors in suspense and on tiptoe of\nexpectation by proposing a varied succession of solutions of the\nmystery in hand, and dismissing them in turn with a--\"Well, that's\nnot it.\" He takes up, one after the other, the various _pr\u00e9tendants_\nto the honor of the Iron Mask's living martyrdom, discusses all the\nclaims in their favor, presents the objections, demonstrates that\ntheir position is untenable, orders them off the stage, and passes on\nto the next; thus successively eliminating them until he reaches his\nobjective point.\n\nM. Topin's first article is preceded by a sort of device, or motto,\nin the shape of a short extract from an order of Louis XIV.: _Il\nfaudra que personne ne sache ce que cet homme sera devenu_, (no one\nmust know what has become of this man.) It was noticed that the date\nof the order is not given. The article opens with a statement of\nthe arrival of M. Saint Mars at the Bastille (Paris) at three P.M.,\non the 18th of September, 1698. St. Mars was the newly-appointed\ngovernor of that prison, and came accompanied by a prisoner whose\nface was concealed by a mask of black velvet. This prisoner died,\nand was buried on the 20th of November, 1703, under the name of\nMarchialy. The extraordinary precautions taken after the death of\nMarchialy are narrated in our previous number. The dates above given\nare important in determining the claims of other candidates, inasmuch\nas the facts and dates connected with the arrival, death, and\nburial of a masked prisoner at the Bastille are established beyond\ncontroversy by official documents, and must be considered in any case\npresented.\n\nOur author then dilates upon the difficulties of the question, the\nfact that it has been unsuccessfully treated by fifty-two authors,\nand finally abandoned as hopeless by historians like Michelet, with\nthe conclusion that the problem of the Man with the Iron Mask will\nnever be solved. Betraying no anxiety whatever to make haste, M.\nTopin then discusses the merits of several of the most prominent\ntheories and the manner in which they have been presented. The\nclaim that longest held its ground, and enlisted in its advocacy the\ngreatest number of writers, was that made for a supposed and, as has\nbeen shown, entirely imaginary twin-brother of Louis XIV., the son of\nAnne of Austria, wife of Louis XIII. It is easy to understand why,\nin France, such a version as this should be the favorite one. It\npossessed every possible element of popularity, intrigue, mystery,\nillegitimacy, crime, a rightful heir defrauded of his throne, and the\nassociation of illustrious names. All these lent their fascinations;\nand from Voltaire to Alexander Dumas, from the _Dictionnaire\nPhilosophique_ to the _Vicomte de Bragelonne_, all the resources of\nwriters of their tendency and calibre were called into play to give\nit currency.\n\nM. Topin devotes nearly the whole of his first article to the\ndemonstration of the fact that the prisoner of the Iron Mask was not\nand could not have been a son of Anne of Austria. The discussion is\nthorough, and the demonstration complete. Outside of the question of\nthe Mask one good result is thus obtained. The innocence of Anne of\nAustria is fully established.\n\nTime brings roses--and justice. Marie Antoinette was first vindicated\nfrom the foul aspersions of the \"progeny of Voltaire.\" Now, Anne\nof Austria is acquitted; and going further back in time--the most\ndistant case being, of course, the most difficult--next comes the\nturn of Mary Stuart, and her day, we believe, is not far distant.\n\nThe claim made for the Count of Vermandois, a son of Louis XIV.\nand Louise de la Valli\u00e8re, is next taken up. As all the details of\nthe last illness, death, and burial of the Count of Vermandois are\nmatters of profuse official record, M. Topin has very little trouble\nin disposing of this case. Then we have the Duke of Monmouth, a\nnatural son of Charles II. of England. Defeated at the battle of\nSedgemoor, where the forces under his command were arrayed in armed\nrebellion against James II., and afterward taken prisoner, he was\nbeheaded in the Tower of London July 15th, 1685. The dispatches of\nvarious foreign ministers in London at the time fully establish the\nfact of his death.\n\nTo Monmouth succeeds Francis of Vend\u00f4me, Duke of Beaufort. As grand\nadmiral of France, Beaufort commanded the naval expedition sent out\nto aid the Venetians in their defence of Candia against the Turks in\n1669. As in the cases of the two sons of Louis XIV., and Monmouth,\nthe surrounding circumstances give M. Topin the fullest opportunity\nof indulging in court anecdotes, intrigues, and festivities, mingled\nwith biographical sketches of distinguished personages, so in the\ncase of Beaufort, his history warrants our author in going into all\nthe details of the siege and military and naval operations against\nthe army of the sultan. Beaufort is believed to have been killed in\nan attack upon the enemy's works, and was last seen in the thickest\nof a hand-to-hand struggle in the intrenchments. As his body was\nnever recovered, this fact gave the mystery-mongers an advantageous\nmargin. But Beaufort was born in 1616, and the Iron Mask was buried\nin 1703. Supposing him to be the \"Mask,\" this would make him\neighty-seven years old at his death, which, of itself, puts him out\nof the question.\n\nIn his third number, M. Topin introduces the so-called Armenian\nPatriarch, _Avedick_. Why he did so is best known to himself; for\nthe case of Avedick has never been presented as one that would give\nhim any right to rank among the claimants for the distinction of the\nIron Mask. Taules, and the German historian Hammer, are referred\nto as authorities for Avedick's claim; but on being examined, they\nare found totally insufficient as warrants for such a theory. The\nessential pivot of the question of identity of the Iron Mask is\nthe death and burial of its wearer in 1703. Now, Avedick was still\nin Turkey in 1706, and that settles his claim beyond question.\nAvedick was seized by order of the Marquis of Ferriol in the Grecian\nArchipelago, May, 1706, carried forcibly to France, retained in\nconfinement in various places until September, 1710, when he was\nliberated. He died in Paris in July, 1711. This was most certainly a\ncase of shameful violation of the law of nations, of power, and of\nhumanity. A case of abominable personal cruelty it also certainly\nwas--but it was not a case of \"Iron Mask.\" Two such outrages as\nthose on the persons of Marchialy and Avedick are quite enough of\nthemselves; to say nothing of certain diplomatic arrangements with\nthe Grand Turk which endangered Christianity and the public peace in\nEurope--to settle one's opinion as to the genuineness of the glories\nof the reign of Louis XIV., a Grand Monarque who was not great.\n\nBut to return, M. Topin's chapter on the Avedick case, appearing in\n_Le Correspondant_ of the 10th June, 1869, was followed by an article\nfrom the pen of Rev. Father Turquand, S.J., in the September (10th)\nnumber of the same periodical, severely attacking the statements of\nAvedick's case by M. Topin, and vindicating his (Turquand's) society\nfrom certain imputations cast upon it in connection with the seizure\nof Avedick.\n\nIn his fourth number, (Oct. 10th,) M. Topin takes up the claim made\nfor Fouquet, whose case differs from all the others in the fact\nthat he was a prisoner of state by sentence of a judicial tribunal.\nFouquet's claims were warmly pressed by a very able literary\nadvocate, Paul Lacroix, (Bibliophile Jacob,) in a work published\nin 1830. But here again the difficulty of dates is insurmountable.\nFouquet died in 1680, and there is no proof of the appearance of the\nMan with the Iron Mask until after that period.\n\nWe pass on to another. In the year 1677, the Duke of Mantua was\nCharles IV. of the illustrious house of Gonzaga. He was young,\ncareless, dissipated, and extravagant. Spending most of his time\nin Venice, he seldom visited his duchy, except for the purpose of\nraising money. He gradually fell into the hands of usurious lenders,\nand continued to obtain the sums he wanted by anticipating, through\nthem, the receipt of the taxes and imposts of his duchy by several\nyears. The Marquisate of Montferrat was among his dependencies. Its\nlittle capital, Casal, a fortified place on the Po, fifteen leagues\neast of Turin, was a point of great strategic importance, and\nessential to the safety of Piedmont. The court of Turin would not, of\ncourse, consent to its possession by France. But to France it was of\nthe highest value, as with Pignerol and Casal it would be master of\nthe situation. This place Louis XIV. wanted to buy, and Charles IV.\nwas perfectly willing to sell it. Ercolo (Hercules) Antonio Mattioli,\na young nobleman of the court of Mantua, at this time thirty-seven\nyears of age, was high in favor with the reigning duke. Through\nGiuliani, an Italian journalist, D'Estrades, Louis XIV.'s ambassador\nat Venice, sounded Mattioli, and finally, through him, succeeded in\nopening a negotiation with the duke for the sale of Casal to France.\n\nAll three met at Venice in March, 1678, discussed terms, and agreed\nupon one hundred thousand crowns as the price of the cession.\nMattioli then went to Paris to sign the treaty in the name of his\nmaster the duke. The treaty was completed in December, 1678, and\nafter its signature, Mattioli was received by Louis XIV. in secret\naudience, presented by the king with a rich diamond ring and four\nhundred double _Louis d'or_, with the promise of a far greater amount\nof money, the appointment of his son among the royal pages, and a\nvaluable endowment for his mother. The intrigue and negotiation had\nbeen admirably managed and crowned with perfect success. Of all who\nhad any interest opposed to the French possession of Casal, not\none had the slightest suspicion, and it would have been difficult\nto imagine the existence of the smallest element of failure in the\nenterprise.\n\nBut the best-laid schemes of men, mice, and monarchs here below oft\ncome to naught. Two months after Mattioli's visit to Paris, the\ncourts of Turin, of Madrid, and of Vienna, the Spanish governor of\nthe Milanese provinces, and the state inquisitors of the Venetian\nrepublic--that is to say, all and every one most interested against\nthe execution of the treaty--not only knew of its existence, but\nwere fully advised of every detail concerning it, the names of the\nnegotiators, the date of the instruments, the price of cession, when\nit was to be made, etc. In short, they knew every thing concerning\nit. Well they might. Mattioli himself had told them! His motive is\na subject of dispute. One theory is, interested motive; another,\npatriotism. Certain it is he had more to gain--as a mere question of\ninterest--by keeping than by betraying the secret. On this point,\nthough, we do not undertake to judge him. In February, 1679, the\nDuchess of Savoy advised Louis XIV. that she was in possession of\nMattioli's information. The disappointment, the mortification, and\nthe anger of the French king can easily be imagined. He was placed in\na position not only dangerous; but what was almost worse, ludicrous.\nMattioli had the king's signature to the treaty in his possession,\nand it was all-important to recover it. The king in Paris, and his\nminister D'Estrades, both conceived the same idea for remedy in the\nmatter. On the 28th of April, 1679, Louis sent the order to have\nMattioli arrested, and on arrival of the order, Mattioli had already\n(May 2d) been carried off a prisoner. D'Estrades had managed to decoy\nhim across the frontier, at a point where he had a detachment of\ndragoons waiting, and in a few hours the Italian was a prisoner at\nPignerol, the commencement of a captivity that was to endure four\nand twenty long years. M. Topin then continues the discussion of\nMattioli's case, and closes the article, leaving the reader under the\nimpression that he decides against the claim of Mattioli.\n\nIndeed he goes further; for he more than intimates that there is very\nlittle probability of ever penetrating the mystery surrounding the\nMan with the Iron Mask.\n\nThe case made for Mattioli has always been the strongest, even before\nthe publication of the work of Mr. J. Delort, which was mostly\nappropriated by Ellis in his _True History of the State Prisoner_.\nMr. Loiseleur has also discussed the Mattioli claim with great\nforce; so successfully, indeed, that a very large number of critical\nscholars were satisfied with his adverse demonstration.\n\nM. Topin discusses at great length the facts and the reasoning of\nMr. Loiseleur, and, as we have just stated, concludes his sixth\narticle by a decision against Mattioli. But in his concluding chapter\n(_Correspondant_, Nov. 10th) he comes to a right-about face, takes up\nsome of Mr. Loiseleur's proofs, adds some new dispatches, and decides\nthat--Mattioli is the French prisoner of state known as the Man with\nthe Iron Mask.\n\nWe fear that after all the solution of M. Topin is no solution, and\nthat the only result of his labor is to narrow the discussion down to\nthe claims of Mattioli and another prisoner of unknown name.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SCHOOL QUESTION.[13]\n\n\nThe number of _The Christian World_, the organ of the American\nand Foreign Christian Union, for February last is entirely taken\nup with the school question, and professes to give \"a carefully\ndigested summary of the views and reasonings of all parties to the\ncontroversy.\" The views and reasonings of the Catholic party are\nnot misstated, but are very inadequately presented; those of the\nother parties are given more fully, and, we presume, as correctly\nand as authoritatively as possible. The number does not dispose\nof the subject; but furnishes us a fitting occasion to make some\nobservations which will at least set forth correctly our views of the\nschool question as Catholics and American citizens.\n\nIt is to the credit of the American people that they have, at least\nthe Calvinistic portion of them, from the earliest colonial times,\ntaken a deep interest in the education of the young, and made\nconsiderable sacrifices to secure it. The American Congregationalists\nand Presbyterians, who were the only original settlers of the eastern\nand middle colonies, have from the first taken the lead in education,\nand founded, sustained, and conducted most of our institutions of\nlearning. The Episcopalians, following the Anglican Church, have\nnever taken much interest in the education of the people, having been\nchiefly solicitous about the higher class of schools and seminaries.\nThe Baptists and Methodists have, until recently, been quite\nindifferent to education. They have now some respectable schools;\nbut the writer of this was accustomed in his youth to hear both\nBaptists and Methodists preach against college-bred parsons, and a\n_larned_ ministry. In those States which had as colonies proprietary\ngovernments, and in which the Episcopalians, Baptists, and Methodists\nhave predominated, universal education has been, and still is, more\nor less neglected. Even the Presbyterians, while they have insisted\non a learned ministry and the education of the easy classes, have not\ninsisted so earnestly on the education of the children of all classes\nas have the Congregationalists; and, indeed, it is hardly too much to\nsay that our present system of common schools at the public expense\nowes its origin to Congregationalists and the influence they have\nexerted. The system, whatever may be thought of it, has undeniably\nhad a religious, not a secular origin.\n\nThe system originated in New England; strictly speaking, in\nMassachusetts. As originally established in Massachusetts, it was\nsimply a system of parochial schools. The parish and the town\nwere coincident, and the schools of the several school-districts\ninto which the parish was divided were supported by a tax on the\npopulation and property of the town, levied according to the grand\nlist or state assessment roll. The parish, at its annual town\nmeeting, voted the amount of money it would raise for schools during\nthe ensuing year, which was collected by the town collector, and\nexpended under the direction of a school committee chosen at the same\nmeeting. Substantially the same system was adopted and followed in\nNew Hampshire and Connecticut. In Vermont, the towns were divided\nor divisible, under a general law, into school-districts, and each\nschool-district decided for itself the amount of money it would raise\nfor its school, and the mode of raising it. It might raise it by tax\nlevied on the property of the district, or, as it was said, on \"the\ngrand list,\" or _per capita_ on the scholars attending and according\nto the length of their attendance. In this latter method, which was\ngenerally followed, only those who used the schools were taxed to\nsupport them. This latter method was, in its essential features,\nadopted in all, or nearly all, the other States that had a common\nschool system established by law. In Rhode Island and most of the\nSouthern States, the inhabitants were left to their own discretion,\nto have schools or not as they saw proper, and those who wanted them\nfounded and supported them at their own expense. In none of the\nStates, however, was there developed at first a system of free public\nschools supported either by a school fund or by a general tax on\nproperty levied by the State, though Massachusetts contained such a\nsystem in germ.\n\nGradually, from the proceeds of public lands, from lots of land\nreserved in each township, especially in the new States, for common\nschools, and from various other sources, several of the States\naccumulated a school fund, the income of which, in some instances,\nsufficed, or nearly sufficed, for the support of free public schools\nfor all the children in the State. This gave a new impulse to the\nmovement for free schools and universal education, or schools founded\nand supported for all the children of the State at the public expense\nin whole or in part, either from the income of the school fund or by\na public tax. This is not yet carried out universally, but is that\nto which public sentiment in all the States is tending; and now that\nslavery is abolished, and the necessity of educating the freedmen is\ndeeply felt, there can be little doubt that it will soon become the\npolicy of every State in the Union.\n\nThe schools were originally founded by a religious people for a\nreligious end, not by seculars for a purely secular end. The people\nat so early a day had not advanced so far as they have now, and\ndid not dream of divorcing secular education from religion. The\nschools were intended to give both religious and secular education\nin their natural union, and there was no thought of the feasibility\nof separating what God had joined together. The Bible was read as a\nclass-book, the catechism was taught as a regular school exercise,\nand the pastor of the parish visited the schools and instructed them\nin religion as often as he saw proper. Indeed, he was, it might be\nsaid, _ex officio_ the superintendent of the parish schools; and\nwhether he was chosen as committee-man or not, his voice was all\npotent in the management of the school, in the selection of studies,\nand in the appointment and dismissal of teachers. The superiority in\na religious and moral point of view to the schools as now developed\nmay be seen by contrasting the present moral and religious state of\nNew England with what it was then.\n\nThe religion, as we Catholics hold, was defective, and even false;\nbut the principle on which the schools were founded was sound, and\nworked well in the beginning, did no injustice to any one, and\nviolated no conscience; for Congregationalism was the established\nreligion, and the people were all Congregationalists. Even where\nthere was no established religion and different denominations\nobtained, conscience was respected; for the character of the\nschool, as well as the religion taught in it, was determined by the\ninhabitants of the school district, and nobody was obliged to send\nhis children to it, and those only who did send were taxed for its\nsupport.\n\nBut in none of the States is there now an established religion, and\nin all there are a great variety of denominations, all invested with\nequal rights before the state. It is obvious, then, the Massachusetts\nsystem cannot in any of them be adopted or continued, and the\nother system of taxing only those who use the schools cannot be\nmaintained, if the schools are to be supported from the income of\npublic funds, or by a public tax levied alike on the whole population\nof the district, town, municipality, or State. Here commences the\ndifficulty--and a grave one it is, too--which has as yet received no\npractical solution, and which the legislatures of the several States\nare now called upon to solve.\n\nHitherto the attempt has been made to meet the difficulty\nby excluding from the public schools what the state calls\nsectarianism--that is, whatever is distinctive of any particular\ndenomination or peculiar to it--and allowing to be introduced\nonly what is common to all, or, as it is called, \"our common\nChristianity.\" This would, perhaps, meet the difficulty, if the\nseveral denominations were only different varieties of Protestantism.\nThe several Protestant denominations differ from one another only in\ndetails or particulars, which can easily be supplied at home in the\nfamily, or in the Sunday-school. But this solution is impracticable\nwhere the division is not one between Protestant sects only, but\nbetween Catholics and Protestants. The difference between Catholics\nand Protestants is not a difference in details or particulars only,\nbut a difference in principle. Catholicity must be taught as a whole,\nin its unity and its integrity, or it is not taught at all. It must\neverywhere be all or nothing. It is not a simple theory of truth or\na collection of doctrines; it is an organism, a living body, living\nand operating from its own central life, and is necessarily one and\nindivisible, and cannot have any thing in common with any other body.\nTo exclude from the schools all that is distinctive or peculiar in\nCatholicity, is simply to exclude Catholicity itself, and to make the\nschools either purely Protestant or purely secular, and therefore\nhostile to our religion, and such as we cannot in conscience support.\n\nYet this is the system adopted, and while the law enables\nnon-Catholics to use the public schools with the approbation of their\nconsciences, it excludes the children of Catholics, unless their\nparents are willing to violate their Catholic conscience, to neglect\ntheir duty as fathers and mothers, and expose their children to the\ndanger of losing their faith, and with it the chance of salvation.\nWe are not free to expose our children to so great a danger, and are\nbound in conscience to do all in our power to guard them against\nit, and to bring them up in the faith of the church, to be good and\nexemplary Catholics.\n\nEvidently, then, the rule of allowing only our supposed \"common\nChristianity\" to be taught in schools does not solve the difficulty,\nor secure to the Catholic his freedom of conscience.\n\nThe exclusion of the Bible would not help the matter. This would\nonly make the schools purely secular, which were worse than making\nthem purely Protestant; for, as it regards the state, society,\nmorality, all the interests of this world, Protestantism we hold to\nbe far better than no religion--unless you include under its name\nfree-lovism, free-religion, woman's-rightsism, and the various other\nsimilar _isms_ struggling to get themselves recognized and adopted,\nand to which the more respectable Protestants, we presume, are hardly\nless opposed than we are. If some Catholics in particular localities\nhave supposed that the exclusion of the Protestant Bible from the\npublic schools would remove the objection to them as schools for\nCatholic children, they have, in our opinion, fallen into a very\ngreat mistake. The question lies deeper than reading or not reading\nthe Bible in the schools, in one version or another. Of course, our\nchurch disapproves the Protestant version of the Bible, as a faulty\ntranslation of a mutilated text; but its exclusion from the public\nschools would by no means remove our objections to them. We object\nto them not merely because they teach more or less of the Protestant\nreligion, but also on the ground that we cannot freely and fully\nteach our religion and train up our children in them to be true and\nunwavering Catholics; and we deny the right of the State, the city,\nthe town, or the school district, to tax us for schools in which we\nare not free to do so.\n\nWe value education, and even universal education--which overlooks\nno class or child, however rich or however poor, however honored or\nhowever despised--as highly as any of our countrymen do or can; but\nwe value no education that is divorced from religion and religious\nculture. Religion is the supreme law, the one thing to be lived for;\nand all in life, individual or social, civil or political, should be\nsubordinated to it, and esteemed only as means to the eternal end\nfor which man was created and exists. Religious education is the\nchief thing, and we wish our children to be accustomed, from the\nfirst dawning of reason, so to regard it, and to regard whatever\nthey learn or do as having a bearing on their religious character or\ntheir duty to God. Mr. Bulwer--now Lord Lytton--as well as many other\nliterary men of eminence, have written much on the danger of a purely\nintellectual culture, or of the education of the intellect divorced\nfrom that of the heart, or sentiments and affections. We hold that\neducation, either of the intellect or of the heart, or of both\ncombined, divorced from faith and religious discipline, is dangerous\nalike to the individual and to society. All education should be\nreligious, and intended to train the child for a religious end; not\nfor this life only, but for eternal life; for this life is nothing if\nsevered from that which is to come.\n\nEven for this world, for civilization itself, the religious education\nwhich the church gives is far better than any so-called secular\neducation without it. The church has not always been able to secure\nuniversal secular education for all her children; but there can be\nno question that the illiterate classes of Catholic nations are far\nmore civilized and better trained than are the corresponding classes\nof Protestant nations. There is no comparison in personal dignity,\nmanliness, self-respect, courtesy of manner, refined feeling, and\ndelicate sentiment, between an unlettered Italian, French, Spanish,\nor Irish peasant, and an unlettered Protestant German, English, or\nAmerican. The one is a cultivated, a civilized man; the other is a\nboor, a clown, coarse and brutal, who perpetually mistakes impudence\nfor independence, and proves his self-respect by his indifference\nor insults to others. The difference is due to the difference of\nreligion and religious culture; not, as is sometimes pretended,\nto difference of race. The church civilizes the whole nation that\naccepts her; only the upper classes in Protestant nations are\ncivilized.\n\nOf course, we do not and can not expect, in a state where Protestants\nhave equal rights with Catholics before the state, to carry our\nreligion into public schools designed equally for all. We have no\nright to do it. But Protestants have no more right to carry their\nreligion into them than we have to carry ours; and carry theirs they\ndo, when ours is excluded. Their rights are equal to ours, and ours\nare equal to theirs; and neither does nor can, in the eyes of the\nstate, override the other. As the question is a matter of conscience,\nand therefore of the rights of God, there can be no compromise, no\nsplitting of differences, or yielding of the one party to the other.\nHere comes up the precise difficulty. The state is bound equally to\nrecognize and respect the conscience of Protestants and of Catholics,\nand has no right to restrain the conscience of either. There must,\nthen, be a dead-lock, unless some method can be discovered or devised\nby which the public schools can be saved without lesion either to the\nProtestant or the Catholic.\n\nThree solutions have been suggested: 1. The first is to exclude\nthe Bible and all religious teaching, or recognition, in any way,\nshape, or manner, of religion, from the public schools. This is the\ninfidel or secular solution, and, so far as Catholics are concerned,\nis no solution at all. It is simple mockery. What we demand is, not\nthat religion be excluded from the schools, but schools in which we\ncan teach freely and fully our own religion to our own children. It\nis precisely these purely secular schools, in which all education\nis divorced from religion--from the faith, precepts, services,\nand discipline of the church, as well as education combined with\na false religion--that we oppose. Nor will this solution satisfy\nthe more respectable Protestant denominations, as is evident from\nthe tenacity with which they insist on reading the Bible in the\nschools. They do not believe any more than we do in the utility, or\neven practicability, of divorcing what is called secular learning\nfrom religion. All education, they hold, as well as we, that is not\nreligious, is necessarily anti-religious. This is a case in which\nthere is and can be no neutrality. We find this conclusively shown\nby some remarks in _The Christian World_ before us, credited to\nProfessor Tayler Lewis, the most learned and able thinker we are\nacquainted with among our Protestant contemporaries. The professor's\nremarks are so true, so sensible, and so much to our purpose, that,\nthough not so brief as we could wish, our readers will hardly fail to\nthank us for transcribing them:\n\n    \"Let us test this specious plea of neutrality. What does it\n    imply? If carried strictly out to the exclusion of every\n    thing religious, or having a religious tendency, it must\n    consistently demand a like exclusion of every thing that in\n    the least manifests the opposite tendency, under whatever\n    specious disguises it may be veiled. It does not alter the\n    case in the least that opinions, regarded as irreligious,\n    or as undermining or in any way weakening the grounds of\n    belief, take to themselves the specious names of literature,\n    or politics, or political economy, or phrenology, or the\n    philosophy of history. No such sham pass-words should give\n    to Buckle and Combe admittance where Butler and Chalmers are\n    shut out. Every thing that makes it less easy for the child\n    to believe his catechism, 'taught at home,' as they say, is a\n    break of the supposed concordat. The mere objection is to be\n    heeded. It is enough that things seem so to serious men, as\n    capable of correct reasoning as any on the other side; or that\n    it is the opinion, the prejudice, if any choose so to call\n    it, of a devout ignorance. The thoughtful religious man might\n    be willing to forego his objection if there were or could be\n    real impartiality. He might trust a true moral and religious\n    training as fully able to counteract any thing of an opposite\n    tendency. But to let in the enemy, and then take away the\n    weapon of defence--this is a neutrality hard to be understood.\n\n    \"Now, there can be no doubt of the fact that there is admitted\n    into our schools, our colleges, our educational libraries,\n    into the reading-rooms connected with them, much that is\n    thus _deemed_ irreligious in its tendency--at least, by the\n    holders of our stricter creeds. There is much that is silently\n    alienating the minds of their children from the doctrines\n    held sacred by their fathers. We might go further: there is\n    much that tends to undermine all religious belief, even of\n    the freest cast. What young man can have his mind filled\n    with the atheistical speculations of Mill and Spencer, or be\n    exposed to the uncounteracted theories of Darwin and Huxley,\n    and yet retain unimpaired his belief in a providence as taught\n    by Christ--a providence that 'numbers the very hairs of our\n    heads'--or listen as before to the prayer that ascends from the\n    family altar? These writers profess a kind of theism, it is\n    said; but wherein, as far as any moral power is concerned, does\n    it differ from a belief in quadratic equations, or the dogmas\n    of heat and magnetism?\n\n    \"The matter, as we have stated it, would be too plain for\n    argument were it not for those magical words, _secular_ and\n    _sectarian_, that some are so fond of using. 'The state knows\n    no religion,' they say; it is wholly 'a private concern'\n    between the _individual_ and his Maker. 'The state knows no\n    God.' They wonder the zealous bigot cannot see how clear this\n    makes every thing. If he would only assent to propositions so\n    easy, so self-evident, we should have peace. But set these\n    confident logicians to define what they mean by terms so\n    fluently employed, or ask them to show us how the state can\n    keep clear of all action, direct or indirect, for or against an\n    interest so vital as religion, so all-pervading, so intimately\n    affecting every other, and how soon they begin to stammer! What\n    is secular? The one who attempts to define it would perhaps\n    begin with a negative. It is that which has no connection\n    with religion; no aspects, no relations, no tendencies, no\n    suggestions, beyond this world, or, the narrowest view of it,\n    this _age_ or _seculum_. Now, let him apply it to particular\n    branches of education. There is the learning of the alphabet,\n    spelling, reading. But what shall the child read? It would be\n    very difficult to find a mere reading-book--unless its contents\n    were an empty gabble, like the nonsense Latin verses of some\n    schools--that would not somewhere, and in some way, betray\n    moral or immoral, religious or irreligious ideas, according to\n    the judgment of some minds. But let us waive this, and go on.\n    Arithmetic is secular. Geography is secular; though we have\n    seen things under the head of physical geography that some\n    classes of religionists might object to as betraying a spirit\n    hostile to the idea of the earth's creation in any form. But go\n    on. Including the pure mathematics, as being pure mathematics\n    and nothing else, we have about got to the end of our\n    definition. No thinking man would pretend that the departments\n    of life and motion, chemistry, dynamics, physiology, could be\n    studied apart from a higher class of ideas. But secularity\n    would interfere here in a very strange way. When these roads of\n    knowledge thus tend upward toward the eternal light, it would\n    shut down the gate and eject the book. Natural philosophy, as\n    taught by Newton and Kepler, gets beyond secularity. When,\n    on the other hand, after the manner of Humboldt, Lamarck,\n    and Darwin, its progress is in the direction of the eternal\n    darkness, the study of it becomes entirely _unsectarian_; it\n    violates no rights of conscience!\n\n    \"In other departments, it is still more difficult to set the\n    secular bound. History, the philosophy of history, political\n    philosophy, psychology, ethics, however strong the effort\n    to dereligionize them, do all, when left to their proper\n    expansion, spurn any such bounds. Art, too, when wholly\n    secularized; poetry stripped of its religious ideality; how\n    long would they resist such a narrowing, suffocating process? A\n    lower dogma was never maintained than this of a wholly secular\n    education, or one more utterly _impracticable_. The subject\n    must inevitably die under the operation, and religion must come\n    back again into our schools and colleges, to save them from\n    inanity and extinction.\n\n    \"There may be stated here some reasons why this plea of\n    neutrality, though so false, is yet so specious and misleading.\n    It arises from the fact that the statement of moral, religious,\n    and theological ideas demands clear and positive language. The\n    hostile forms, on the other hand, are disguised under vague and\n    endlessly varying negations. They are Protean, too, in their\n    appellations. They take to themselves the names of literature,\n    art, philosophy, reform. This procedure shows itself in\n    reading-books intended for our primary schools; in text-books\n    prepared for the higher institutions; in essays and periodicals\n    that strew the tables of reading-rooms attached to our colleges\n    and academies; and, above all, in the public lecturing, male\n    and female, which may be said to have become a part of our\n    educational system. For example, should the writer of this\n    attempt to explain before such an audience 'the doctrines\n    of grace,' as they are called, or that unearthly system of\n    ideas which can be traced through the whole line of the\n    church--patristic, Roman, and Protestant--in their production\n    of a strong unearthly character, then would be immediately\n    heard the cry of bigotry, or the senseless yell of church and\n    state. And now for the _opposing_ 'dogmas,' as they really are,\n    notwithstanding all their disguises. They make their entrance\n    under endlessly varied forms. Pantheism has free admittance;\n    but that is not dogmatic--it calls itself philosophy. In some\n    lecture on progress, or history, the most essential of these\n    old 'doctrines of grace' may be sneeringly ignored or covertly\n    assailed; but that is literature. Darwinism is expounded, with\n    its virtual denial of any thing like creation; or Huxleyism,\n    which brings man out of the monkey, and the monkey out of the\n    fungus; that is science. Or it may be the whining nonsense\n    which glorifies the nineteenth century at the expense of the\n    far honester eighteenth, and talks so undogmatically of the\n    deep 'yearning' for something better--that is, the 'coming\n    faith.' And so goes on this exhibition of impartiality, with\n    its exclusion of every thing dogmatic and theological.\"\n\nNeither Catholics nor Protestants who believe at all in religion will\nconsent to be taxed to support infidel, pantheistic, or atheistic\neducation; and all so-called purely secular education is really\nnothing else. The temporal separated from the eternal, the universe\nfrom its Creator, is nothing, and can be no object of science.\nThe first suggested solution must then be abandoned, and not be\nentertained for a moment by the state, unless it is bent on suicide;\nfor the basis of the state itself is religion, and is excluded in\nexcluding all religious ideas and principles.\n\n2. The second solution suggested is to adopt in education the\nvoluntary system, as we do in religion, and leave each denomination\nto maintain schools for its own children at its own expense. We could\naccept this solution, as Catholics, without any serious objection;\nbut we foresee some trouble in disposing of the educational\nfunds held by several of the States in trust for common schools,\nacademies, and colleges, and in determining to whom shall belong\nthe school-houses, and academy and college buildings and fixtures,\nerected, in whole or in part, at the public expense. Besides, this\nwould break up the whole public school system, and defeat the chief\nend it contemplates--that of providing a good common education\nfor all the children of the land, especially the children of the\npoorer classes. Catholics, Presbyterians, Congregationalists, and\nEpiscopalians would establish and support schools, each respectively\nfor their own children; but some other denominations might not,\nand the infidels, and that large class called _nothingarian_, most\ncertainly would not. Only they who believe in some religion see\nenough of dignity in man, or worth in the human soul, to make the\nsacrifice of a penny for education. The Darwins, the Huxleys, the\nLyells, and other unbelieving scientists of the day, were never\neducated in schools, academies, colleges, or universities founded by\ninfidels. They graduated from schools founded by the faith and piety\nof those who believed in God, in creation, in Christ, in the life\nand immortality brought to light in the Gospel; and if they have\ndevoted themselves to severe studies, it has not been from love of\nscience, but in the ignoble hope of being able to dispense, in the\nexplanation of nature, with God the Creator, and to prove that man is\nonly a monkey developed, a condensed gas, or, as Dr. Cabanis defined\nhim, simply \"a digestive tube open at both ends.\"\n\nMoreover, though we deny the competency of the state to act as\neducator, we hold that its duty toward both religion and education\nis something more than negative. We hold that it has positive duties\nto perform in regard to each. It cannot decide what religion its\ncitizens shall accept and obey; but it is bound to protect its\ncitizens in the free and full enjoyment of the religion they adopt\nfor themselves. We cannot, for the sake of carrying a point which we\nhold to be true and certain to be of great importance, ally ourselves\nwith infidels, or lay down as a universal principle what our church\nhas never approved, and what we may in the change of the tide be\nourselves obliged to disavow. The state, with all its powers and\nfunctions, exists for religion, and is in all its action subordinated\nto the eternal end of man. As the church teaches, and as the New\nEngland Puritans held, this world is never the end; it is only a\nmeans to an end infinitely above itself. We will never dishonor truth\nso much as to concede for a moment that the state is independent\nof religion; that it may treat religion, as a co\u00f6rdinate power\nwith itself, with indifference, or look down upon it with haughty\ncontempt, as beneath its notice, or to be pushed aside if it comes in\nits way. It is as much bound to consult the spiritual end of man,\nand to obey the law of God, which overrides all other laws, as is the\nindividual.\n\nWe, of course, deny the competency of the state to educate, to say\nwhat shall or shall not be taught in the public schools, as we deny\nits competency to say what shall or shall not be the religious belief\nand discipline of its citizens. We, of course, utterly repudiate the\npopular doctrine that so-called secular education is the function\nof the state. Yet, while we might accept this second solution as an\nexpedient, we do not approve it, and cannot defend it as sound in\nprinciple. It would break up and utterly destroy the free public\nschool system, what is good as well as what is evil in it; and\nwe wish to save the system by simply removing what it contains\nrepugnant to the Catholic conscience--not to destroy it or lessen\nits influence. We are decidedly in favor of free public schools\nfor all the children of the land, and we hold that the property of\nthe state should bear the burden of educating the children of the\nstate--the two great and essential principles of the system, and\nwhich endear it to the hearts of the American people. Universal\nsuffrage is a mischievous absurdity without universal education; and\nuniversal education is not practicable unless provided for at the\npublic expense. While, then, we insist that the action of the state\nshall be subordinated to the law of conscience, we yet hold that it\nhas an important part to perform, and that it is its duty, in view\nof the common weal, and of its own security as well as that of its\ncitizens, to provide the means of a good common school education for\nall its children, whatever their condition, rich or poor, Catholics\nor Protestants. It has taken the American people over two hundred\nyears to arrive at this conclusion, and never by our advice shall\nthey abandon it.\n\n3. The first and second solutions must then be dismissed as\nunsatisfactory. The first, because it excludes religion, and makes\nthe public schools nurseries of infidelity and irreligion. The\nsecond, because it breaks up and destroys the whole system of free\npublic schools, and renders the universal education demanded by our\ninstitutions impracticable, or unlikely to be given, and in so far\nendangers the safety, the life, and prosperity of the republic.\nWe repeat it, what we want is not the destruction of the system,\nbut simply its modification so far as necessary to protect the\nconscience of both Catholics and Protestants in its rightful freedom.\nThe modification necessary to do this is much slighter than is\nsupposed, and, instead of destroying or weakening the system, would\nreally perfect it and render it alike acceptable to Protestants\nand to Catholics, and combine both in the efforts necessary to\nsustain it. It is simply to adopt the third solution that has been\nsuggested, namely, that of dividing the schools between Catholics and\nProtestants, and assigning to each the number proportioned to the\nnumber of children each has to educate. This would leave Catholics\nfree to teach their religion and apply their discipline in the\nCatholic schools, and Protestants free to teach their religion and\napply their discipline in the Protestant schools. The system, as\na system of free schools at the public expense, with its fixtures\nand present machinery, would remain unimpaired; and a religious\neducation, so necessary to society as well as to the soul, could be\ngiven freely and fully to all, without the slightest lesion to any\none's conscience, or interference with the full and entire religious\nfreedom which is guaranteed by our constitution to every citizen.\nThe Catholic will be restored to his rights, and the Protestant will\nretain his.\n\nThis division was not called for in New England in the beginning;\nfor then the people were all of one and the same religion; nor when\nonly those who used the schools were taxed for their support. It was\nnot needed even when there were only Protestants in the country. In\ndemanding it now, we cast no censure on the original founders of our\npublic schools. But now, when the system is so enlarged as to include\nfree schools for all the children of the state at the public expense,\nand Catholics have become and are likely to remain a notable part of\nthe population of the country, it becomes not only practicable, but\nabsolutely necessary, if religious liberty or freedom of conscience\nfor all citizens is to be maintained; and it were an act of injustice\nto Catholics, whose conscience chiefly demands the division, and\na gross abuse of power, to withhold it. It may be an annoyance to\nProtestants that Catholics are here; but they are here, and here\nthey will remain; and it is never the part of wisdom to resist\nthe inevitable. Our population is divided between Catholics and\nProtestants, and the only sensible course is for each division to\nrecognize and respect the equal rights of the other before the State.\n\nOne objection of a practical character has been brought against the\ndivision by the New York _Tribune_. That journal says that, if the\ndivision could be made in cities and large towns, it would still\nbe impracticable in the sparsely settled districts of the country,\nwhere the population is too small to admit, without too great an\nexpense, of two separate schools, one Catholic and one Protestant.\nThe objection is one that is likely to diminish in force with time.\nIn such districts let each school receive its _pro rata_ amount\nof the public money: if too little, let Catholic charity make up\nthe deficiency for the Catholic, and Protestant charity for the\nProtestant school. Besides, in these sparsely settled districts there\nare few Catholics, and their children are far less exposed than in\ncities, large towns, and villages.\n\nThe more common objection urged is, that if separate schools are\nconceded to Catholics, they must not only be conceded to the\nIsraelites, but also to each Protestant denomination. To the\nIsraelites, we grant, if they demand them. To each Protestant\ndenomination, not at all, unless each denomination can put in\nan honest plea of conscience for such division. All Protestant\ndenominations, without a single exception, unless it be the\nEpiscopalians, unite in opposing the division we ask for, and in\ndefending the system as it is, which proves that they have no\nconscientious objections to the public schools as they are now\nconstituted and conducted. The division to meet the demands of\nthe Catholic conscience would necessitate no change at all in\nthe schools not set apart for Catholic children; and the several\ndenominations that are not conscientiously opposed to them now\ncould not be conscientiously opposed to them after the division. We\ncannot suppose that any denomination of Protestants would consent to\nsupport a system of education that offends its own conscience for the\nsake of doing violence to the conscience of Catholics. Do not all\nAmerican Protestants profess to be the sturdy champions of freedom\nof conscience, and maintain that where conscience begins there the\nsecular authority ends? If the present schools do violence to no\nProtestant conscience, as we presume from their defence of them they\ndo not, no Protestant denomination can demand a division in its\nfavor on the plea of conscience; and to no other plea is the state or\nthe public under any obligation to listen. If, however, there be any\ndenomination that can in good faith demand separate schools on the\nplea of conscience, we say at once let it have them, for such a plea,\nwhen honest, overrides every other consideration.\n\nBut we are asked what shall be done with the large body of citizens\nwho are neither Catholic nor Protestant? Such citizens, we reply,\nhave no religion; and they who have no religion have no conscience\nthat people who have religion are bound to respect. If they refuse\nto send their children either to the Hebrew schools or the Catholic\nschools, or, in fine, to the Protestant schools, let them found\nschools of their own, at their own expense. The constitutions of\nthe several States guarantee to each and every citizen the right to\nworship God according to the dictates of his own conscience; but this\nis not guaranteeing to any one the freedom of not worshipping God,\nto deny his existence, to reject his revelation, or to worship a\nfalse God. The liberty guaranteed is the liberty of religion, not the\nliberty of infidelity. The infidel has, under our constitution and\nlaws, the right of protection in his civil and political equality;\nbut none to protection in his infidelity, since that is not a\nreligion, but the denial of all religion. He cannot plead conscience\nin its behalf, for conscience presupposes religion; and where there\nis no religious faith, there is, of course, no conscience. It would\nbe eminently absurd to ask the state to protect infidelity, or the\ndenial of all religion; for religion, as we have said, is the only\nbasis of the state, and for the state to protect infidelity would be\nto cut its own throat.\n\nThese are, we believe, all the plausible objections that can be urged\nagainst the division of the public schools we demand; for we do not\ncount as such the pretence of some over-zealous Protestants that it\nis necessary to detach the children of Catholics from the Catholic\nChurch in order that they may grow up thorough Americans; and as\nthe public schools are very effectual in so detaching them, and\nweakening their respect for the religion of their parents, and their\nreverence for their clergy, they ought on all patriotic grounds to be\nmaintained in full vigor as they are. We have heard this objection\nfrom over-zealous Evangelicals, and still oftener from so-called\nLiberal Christians and infidels; we have long been told that the\nchurch is anti-American, and can never thrive in the United States;\nfor she can never withstand the free and enlightened spirit of the\ncountry, and the decatholicizing influence of our common schools;\nand we can hardly doubt that some thought of the kind is at the\nbottom of much of the opposition the proposed division of the public\nschools has encountered. But we cannot treat it as serious; for it is\nevidently incompatible with the freedom of conscience which the state\nis bound by its constitution to recognize and protect, for Catholics\nas well as for Protestants. The state has no right to make itself a\nproselyting institution for or against Protestantism, for or against\nCatholicity. It is its business to protect us in the free and full\nenjoyment of our religion, not to engage in the work of unmaking our\nchildren of their Catholicity. The case is one of conscience, and\nconscience is accountable to no civil tribunal. All secular authority\nand all secular considerations whatever must yield to conscience.\nIn questions of conscience the law of God governs, not a plurality\nof votes. The state abuses its authority if it sustains the common\nschools as they are with a view of detaching our children from their\nCatholic faith and love. If Catholics cannot retain their Catholic\nfaith and practice and still be true, loyal, and exemplary American\ncitizens, it must be only because Americanism is incompatible with\nthe rights of conscience, and that would be its condemnation, not the\ncondemnation of Catholicity. No nationality can override conscience;\nfor conscience is catholic, not national, and is accountable to\nGod alone, who is above and over all nations, all principalities\nand powers, King of kings and Lord of lords. But the assumption in\nthe objection is not true. It mistakes the opinion of the American\npeople individually for the constitution of the American state. The\nAmerican state is as much Catholic as it is Protestant, and really\nharmonizes far better with Catholicity than with Protestantism. We\nhold that, instead of decatholicizing Catholic children, it is far\nmore necessary, if we are to be governed by reasons of this sort, to\nunmake the children of Protestants of their Protestantism. We really\nbelieve that, in order to train them up to be, in the fullest sense,\ntrue, loyal, and exemplary American citizens, such as can alone\narrest the present downward tendency of the republic, and realize the\nhopes of its heroic and noble-hearted founders, they must become good\nCatholics.\n\nBut this is a question of which the state can take no cognizance.\nWe have under its constitution no right to call upon it to aid us,\ndirectly or indirectly, in unmaking Protestant children of their\nProtestantism. Of course, before God, or in the spiritual order, we\nrecognize no equality between Catholicity and Protestantism. Before\nGod, no man has any right to be of any religion but the Catholic,\nthe only true religion, the only religion by which men can be raised\nto union with God in the beatific vision. But before the American\nstate, we recognize in Protestants equal rights with our own. They\nhave the same right to be protected by the state in the freedom of\ntheir conscience that we have to be protected by it in the freedom\nof ours. We should attack the very freedom of conscience the state\nguarantees to all her citizens, were we to call upon it to found\nor to continue a system of public schools, at the public expense,\nintended or fitted to detach Protestant children from the religion of\ntheir parents, and turn them over to be brought up in the Catholic\nreligion. We should prove ourselves decidedly un-American in so\ndoing. Yet, we regret to say, this is precisely what the non-catholic\nmajority, inconsiderately we trust, are doing; and, if the popular\nministers of the several sects, like Dr. R. W. Clark, Dr. Sheldon,\nDr. Bellows, Henry Ward Beecher, and the sectarian and secular press\nhave their way, they will continue to do to the end of the chapter\nto us Catholics. They probably are not aware that they belie the\nAmericanism they profess, and abuse the power their superiority\nof numbers gives them to tyrannize over the consciences of their\nfellow-citizens. This strikes us as very un-American, as well as very\nunjust.\n\nWe place our demand for separate schools on the ground of conscience,\nand therefore of right--the right of God as well as of man. Our\nconscience forbids us to support schools at the public expense\nfrom which our religion is excluded, and in which our children are\ntaught either what we hold to be a false or mutilated religion, or\nno religion at all. Such schools are perilous to the souls of our\nchildren; and we dare avow, even in this age of secularism and\ninfidelity, that we place the salvation of the souls of our children\nabove every other consideration. This plea of conscience, which we\nurge from the depth of our souls, and under a fearful sense of our\naccountability to our Maker, ought to suffice, especially in an\nappeal to a state bound by its own constitution to protect the rights\nof conscience for each and all of its citizens, whether Protestant or\nCatholic.\n\nOne thing must be evident from past experience, that our children\ncan be brought up to be good and orderly citizens only as Catholics,\nand in schools under the supervision and control of their church,\nin which her faith is freely and fully taught, and her services,\ndiscipline, and influences are brought to bear in forming their\ncharacters, restraining them from evil, and training them to virtue.\nWe do not say that, even if trained in Catholic schools, all will\nturn out to be good practical Catholics and virtuous members of\nsociety; for the church does not take away free-will, nor eradicate\nall the evil propensities of the flesh; but it is certain that they\ncannot be made such in schools in which the religion of their parents\nis reviled as a besotted superstition, and the very text-books\nof history and geography are made to protest against it; or in\nwhich they are accustomed to hear their priests spoken of without\nreverence, Protestant nations lauded as the only free and enlightened\nnations of the earth, Catholic nations sneered at as ignorant and\nenslaved, and the church denounced as a spiritual despotism, full\nof craft, and crusted all over with corruption both of faith and\nmorals. Such schools may weaken their reverence for their parents,\neven detach them from their church, obscure, if not destroy their\nfaith, render them indifferent to religion, indocile to their\nparents, disobedient to the laws; but they cannot inspire them with\nthe love of virtue, restrain their vicious or criminal propensities,\nor prevent them from associating with the dangerous classes of our\nlarge towns and cities, and furnishing subjects for the correctional\npolice, our jails, penitentiaries, state prisons, and the gallows.\n\nWe are pointed to the vicious and criminal population of our cities,\nof which we furnish more than our due proportion, as a conclusive\nargument against the moral tendency of our religion, and a savage\nhowl of indignation, that rings throughout the land, is set up\nagainst the legislature or the municipality that ventures to grant\nus the slightest aid in our struggles to protect our children from\nthe dangers that beset them, though bearing no proportion to the aid\ngranted to non-Catholics. Yet it is precisely to meet cases like\nours that a public provision for education is needed and supposed to\nbe made. Protestants make the great mistake of trying to cure the\nevil to which we refer by detaching our children from the church,\nand bringing them up bad Protestants, or without any religion. The\nthousand and one associations and institutions formed by Protestant\nzeal and benevolence for the reformation or the bringing up of\npoor Catholic children, and some of which go so far as to kidnap\nlittle papist orphans or half orphans, lock them up in their orphan\nasylums, where no priest can enter, change their names so that their\nrelatives cannot trace them, send them to a distance, and place them\nin Protestant families, where it is hoped they will forget their\nCatholic origin, all proceed from the same mistake, and all fail\nto arrest, or even to lessen, the growing evil. They necessarily\nprovoke the opposition and resistance of the Catholic pastors, and\nof all earnest Catholics, who regard the loss of their faith as the\ngreatest calamity that can befall Catholic children. So long as faith\nremains, however great the vice or the crime, there is something\nto build on, and room to hope for repentance, though late, for\nreformation and final salvation. Faith once gone, all is gone.\n\nIt is necessary to understand that the children of Catholics must be\ntrained up in the Catholic faith, in the Catholic Church, to be good\nexemplary Catholics, or they will grow up bad citizens, the pests\nof society. Nothing can be done for them but through the approval\nand co\u00f6peration of the Catholic clergy and the Catholic community.\nThe contrary rule, till quite recently, has been adopted, and\npublic and private benevolence has sought to benefit our children\nby disregarding, or seeking to uproot, their Catholic faith, and\nrejecting the co\u00f6peration of the Catholic clergy. The results are\napparent to all not absolutely blinded by their misdirected zeal.\n\nThe public has not sufficiently considered that by the law excluding\nour religion from the public schools, the schools as established by\nlaw are Protestant schools, at least so far as they are not pagan\nor godless. We do not suppose the state ever intended to establish\nProtestantism as the exclusive religion of the schools; but such is\nthe necessary result of excluding, no matter under what pretext,\nthe teaching of our religion in them. Exclude Catholicity, and what\nis left? Nothing of Christianity but Protestantism, which is simply\nChristianity _minus_ the Catholic Church, her faith, precepts, and\nsacraments. At present the state makes ample provision for the\nchildren of Protestants, infidels, or pagans; but excludes the\nchildren of Catholics, unless we consent to let them be educated\nin Protestant schools, and brought up Protestants, so far as the\nschools can bring them up.\n\nNow, we protest in the name of equal rights against this manifest\ninjustice. There is no class of the community more in need of free\npublic schools than Catholics, and none are more entitled to their\nbenefit; for they constitute a large portion of the poorer and\nmore destitute classes of the community. We can conceive nothing\nmore unjust than for the state to provide schools for Protestants,\nand even infidels, and refuse to do it for Catholics. To say that\nCatholics have as free access to the public schools as Protestants,\nis bitter mockery. Protestants can send their children to them\nwithout exposing them to lose their Protestantism; but Catholics\ncannot send their children to them without exposing them to the loss\nof their Catholicity. The law protects their religion in the public\nschools by the simple fact of excluding ours. How then say these\nschools are as free to us as they are to them? Is conscience of no\naccount?\n\nWe take it for granted that the intention of the state is that\nthe public schools should be accessible alike to Catholics and\nProtestants, and on the same risks and conditions. We presume it\nhas had no more intention of favoring Protestants at the expense\nof Catholics, than Catholics at the expense of Protestants. But it\ncan no longer fail to see that its intention is not, and cannot be\nrealized by providing schools which Protestants can use without risk\nto their Protestantism, and none which Catholics can use without\nrisk to their Catholicity. As the case now stands, the law sustains\nProtestantism in the schools and excludes Catholicity. This is\nunjust to Catholics, and deprives us, in so far as Catholics, of all\nbenefit to be derived from the public schools supported at the public\nexpense. Were the law to admit Catholicity, it would necessarily\nexclude Protestantism, which would be equally unjust to Protestants.\nSince, then, Catholicity and Protestantism mutually exclude each\nother, and as the state is bound to treat both with equal respect,\nit is not possible for it to carry out its intention and do justice\nto both parties, but by dividing the schools, and setting apart for\nCatholics their proportion of them, in which the education shall be\ndetermined and controlled by their church, though remaining public\nschools supported at the public expense, under the provisions of a\ngeneral law as now.\n\nThis would be doing for its Catholic citizens only what it now does\nfor its Protestant citizens only; in fact, only what is done in\nFrance, Austria, and Prussia. The division would enable us to bring\nall our children into schools under the influence and management\nof our pastors, and to do whatever the church and a thoroughly\nreligious education can do to train them up to be good Catholics,\nand therefore orderly and peaceful members of society, and loyal and\nvirtuous American citizens. It would also remove some restraint from\nthe Protestant schools, and allow them more freedom in insisting on\nwhatever is doctrinal and positive in their religion than they now\nexercise. The two classes of schools, though operating separately,\nwould aid each other in stemming the tide of infidelity and\nimmorality, now setting in with such fearful rapidity, and apparently\nresistless force, threatening the very existence of our republic. The\ndivision would operate in favor of religion, both in a Catholic sense\nand in a Protestant sense, and therefore tend to purify and preserve\nAmerican society. It would restore the schools to their original\nintention, and make them, what they should be, religious schools.\n\nThe enemy which the state, which Catholics, and which Protestants\nhave alike to resist and vanquish by education is the irreligion,\npantheism, atheism, and immorality, disguised as secularism, or\nunder the specious names of science, humanity, free-religion, and\nfree-love, which not only strike at all Christian faith and Christian\nmorals, but at the family, the state, and civilized society itself.\nThe state has no right to regard this enemy with indifference, and\non this point we accept the able arguments used by the serious\nProtestant preachers and writers cited in the number of _The\nChristian World_ before us against the exclusion of the Bible and\nall recognition of religion from the public schools. The American\nstate is not infidel or godless, and is bound always to recognize and\nactively aid religion as far as in its power. Having no spiritual\nor theological competency, it has no right to undertake to say what\nshall or shall not be the religion of its citizens; it must accept,\nprotect, and aid the religion its citizens see proper to adopt, and\nwithout partiality for the religion of the majority any more than the\nreligion of the minority; for in regard to religion the rights and\npowers of minorities and majorities are equal. The state is under\nthe Christian law, and it is bound to protect and enforce Christian\nmorals and its laws, whether assailed by Mormonism, spiritism,\nfree-lovism, pantheism, or atheism.\n\nThe modern world has strayed far from this doctrine, which in the\nearly history of this country nobody questioned. The departure may\nbe falsely called progress, and boasted of as a result of \"the march\nof intellect;\" but it must be arrested, and men must be recalled to\nthe truths they have left behind, if republican government is to be\nmaintained, and Christian society preserved. Protestants who see and\ndeplore the departure from the old landmarks will find themselves\nunable to arrest the downward tendency without our aid, and little\naid shall we be able to render them unless the church be free to use\nthe public schools--that is, her portion of them--to bring up her\nchildren in her own faith, and train them to be good Catholics. There\nis a recrudescence of paganism, a growth of subtle and disguised\ninfidelity, which it will require all that both they and we can do to\narrest. Fight, therefore, Protestants, no longer us, but the public\nenemy.[14]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[13] _The Christian World._ The Bible in the Schools. February, 1870.\nNew York: Bible House.\n\n[14] We desire to call attention to another point which could not be\ndiscussed in the foregoing article, and to which we can at present\nonly allude in the briefest manner. Large sums of money have been\ngranted by legislatures to universities and colleges which are\ncontrolled by the clergy of different Protestant denominations, in\nwhich they teach their religious opinions without restraint, and\nwhich they make, as far as they can, training-schools for their\ntheological seminaries. Now, if the outcry against any grant of\npublic funds to schools in which the Catholic religion is taught is\ntaken up and sustained by Protestants, it follows that they must\nadvocate the total secularization of all institutions, without\nexception, which enjoy any state subsidies, and, if they wish to\nkeep control of religious instruction in any of the above-mentioned\ncolleges, must refund to the state every thing which they now possess\nby grant from the state, and give up all claim to receive any\nfurther endowments. Catholics would never disendow or despoil these\nProtestant institutions, even if they had full power to do it; but if\nthe party of infidelity ever gains, by the help of Protestants, full\nsway over our legislation, the latter may prepare themselves for a\nwholesale spoliation.\n\n\n\n\nTHE NEW ENGLANDER ON THE \"MORAL RESULTS OF THE ROMISH SYSTEM.\"[15]\n\n\nThe reply of the _New Englander_ to our articles of September and\nOctober last is bristling with the most palpable and absurd mistakes.\nWe call them \"mistakes\" through the utmost stretch of Christian\ncharity, for there is really no excuse to be made for them. We\ncannot excuse them by allowing either their author or the editors\nof the _New Englander_ the benefit of the plea of ignorance; for\nthey were bound to inform themselves on a grave matter which they\nprofess to treat of; nor that of haste and carelessness. They have\nhad at least three months for a reply, and were at liberty to take\nthree months more, if necessary; and to plead carelessness in such\na matter is equivalent to a confession of culpable negligence and\nwant of moral principle. They were bound by the principles of the\nChristian religion not to exaggerate or convey in any way a worse\nimpression of their fellow-Christians than the exact truth would\nwarrant, according to the words of St. Paul, \"Charity is kind,\nthinketh no evil, ... is not puffed up;\" which we might paraphrase\nin this way: Is not pharisaically inclined to exalt one's self at\nthe expense of one's neighbor, or at the sacrifice of the truth. The\n_New Englander_ has made use of every artifice; and, trusting to\nthe unsuspecting ignorance or uncritical spirit of the community,\nof a shameful perversion of the truth to effect this unworthy and\nunchristian object. We speak severely because it is time the public,\nboth Catholic and Protestant, should frown upon such practices, and\nendeavor to approach Christian unity by the practice of the most\nordinary Christian virtues. We shall now proceed to make good our\nallegations against the _New Englander_.\n\n1st. The _New Englander_ makes a comparison of the provinces of\nCatholic and Protestant countries, prefaced by the following\nintroduction:\n\n    \"The author of _Evenings with the Romanists_, writing in 1854,\n    gave the names and official returns of ten principal cities\n    of Protestant Prussia and of ten principal cities of Roman\n    Catholic Austria.... THE CATHOLIC WORLD admits the statements,\n    ... and claims, with that air of injured innocence, which is so\n    favorite a weapon in Romish polemics, that, if the returns of\n    the provinces were brought into the account, they would more\n    than redress the balance of the cities. We proceed to put his\n    proposition to experiment.\"\n\nWould our readers credit it, that he has done nothing of the kind? He\nhas not compared the Protestant and Catholic provinces of Protestant\nPrussia and Roman Catholic Austria, between which, and which alone,\nthe parallel comparison of cities was made; but substituted another\ncomparison, entirely his own, introducing provinces belonging to\nother countries to weigh down the Catholic scale, and excluding half\nthe Catholic provinces of Austria for the same purpose. This we will\nshow to a demonstration. Here is the table of the _New Englander_:\n\n    _Illegitimacy in German Provinces._\n\n    PROTESTANT.   PR. CT.    ROMAN CATHOLIC.           PR. CT.\n\n    Brandenburg    12        Austria (Upper and Lower)  29.3\n    Hanover         9.6      Bohemia                    16.3\n    Pomerania      10        Baden                      16.2\n    Prussia         6.7      Bavaria                    22.5\n    Saxony         15.9      Carinthia                  11.7\n    W\u00fcrtemberg     16.4      Carniola                   45\n                             Moravia                    15.1\n                             Posen                       6.8\n                             Rhineland                   3.4\n                             Salzburg                   29.6\n                             Styria                     30.6\n                             Trieste, Gorz, etc.         9.9\n                             Tyrol and Vorarlberg        6\n                   ----                                 ----\n      Average      11.7            Average              18.6\n\nWe repeat, the question as put by the _New Englander_ itself is not\nabout _German_ provinces, but of the Protestant and Roman Catholic\nprovinces of Prussia and Austria. Moreover, the table as it stands is\ngrossly untrue. The rate of illegitimacy of the province of Prussia\nis 9 instead of 6.7, which materially alters the general average.\n\nThe averages of the table are falsely given as,\n\n    Protestant 11.7       Catholic   18.6\n\nThe true averages found by balancing the populations and the rates,\naccording to the rules of arithmetic, are:\n\n    Protestant 12        Catholic 16.9\n\nBesides these grave blunders, the _New Englander_, professing to give\na statement of the _German_ provinces by taking _Germany_, \"province\nby province,\" has omitted many German provinces, which omission very\nmaterially affects the result. We take the liberty of putting them in\nto show how \"economical\" of truth the _New Englander_ has been.\n\n    _Provinces omitted for which returns were given._\n\n    PROTESTANT.          PR. CT.   CATHOLIC.        PR. CT.\n\n    Saxon Prussia         10       Austrian Silesia  13.8\n    Brunswick             18.9\n    Mecklenburg-Schwerin  20.7\n    Saxe-Weimar-Eisenach  15.6\n    Saxe Altenburg        16.9\n    Hesse                 17.2\n    Bremen                 7.2\n\nWe shall now proceed to do what the _New Englander_ professed to do,\nbut merely shifting the question, has not done, namely, compare the\nCatholic and Protestant provinces of Protestant Prussia and Roman\nCatholic Austria, province by province, as they existed previous to\nthe last war, to correspond to the comparison of the cities of these\ncountries which were contained within these limits. Milan, as well as\nLemburg and Zara, are put down among the Austrian cities. We shall\ngive the corresponding provinces:\n\n    _Illegitimacy in Prussian and Austrian Provinces._\n\n                                 POPULATION\n        PROTESTANT.             IN MILLIONS.   PR. CT.\n\n    Brandenburg                     2.62        12\n    Pomerania                       1.44        10\n    Prussia                         3.01         9\n    Saxony (province)               2.04        10\n                                    ----        ----\n                                    9.11        10.2\n\n                                 POPULATION\n         CATHOLIC.              IN MILLIONS.   PR. CT.\n\n    Austria (Upper and Lower)       2.47        29.3\n    Bohemia                         5.11        16.3\n    Carinthia                        .34        45\n    Carniola                         .47        11.7\n    Moravia                         1.99        15.1\n    Posen                           1.52         6.8\n    Rhineland                       3.35         3.4\n    Austrian Silesia                 .49        13.8\n    Salzburg                         .15        29.6\n    Styria                          1.09        30.6\n    Trieste, etc.                    .56         9.9\n    Tyrol                            .88         6\n    Hungary                        10.68         6\n    Galicia                         5.10         8\n    Dalmatia                         .44         5\n    Croatia                          .95         5.5\n    Lombardy and Venice             5.55         5.1\n                                   -----        ----\n                                   41.14        10.3\n\nWe have thus shown, by a mathematical demonstration, that the words\nwhich the _New Englander_ found convenient to put in our mouths,\nthough we really said nothing of the kind, that \"if the returns of\nthe provinces were brought into the account, they would more than\nredress the balance of the cities,\" are sufficiently made good. We\nare glad he \"proceeded to put our proposition to experiment,\" and\nwe caution him when he makes any more experiments of this kind to\nreflect that, whatever may be the judgment of an uncritical public\nprepared to take his statements without examination, his artifices,\nmisstatements, and false conclusions are sure to be detected by any\nwell-informed reader who will take the trouble of examining them.\nThe result of the comparison of the Protestant and Roman Catholic\nprovinces of Austria and Prussia sums up in this fashion:\n\n    _False Average of the New Englander._\n\n    Protestant    11.7      Catholic    18.6\n\n    _True Average._\n\n    Protestant    10.2      Catholic    10.3\n\nWe have thus finished this part of our task, strictly confining\nourselves to the provinces in question; but as it seems more complete\nto add the other German provinces on both sides, of which returns are\ngiven, we do so with the following result:\n\n    _Provinces already given._\n\n                                          POPULATION\n                               PR. CT.    IN MILLIONS.\n\n    Protestant                  10.2          9.11\n    W\u00fcrtemberg                  16.4          1.75\n    Smaller German States[16]    14.8          6.40\n                                ----         -----\n                                12.5         17.26\n\n\n                                          POPULATION\n                               PR. CT.    IN MILLIONS.\n\n    Catholic                    10.3         41.14\n    Bavaria                     22.5          4.81\n    Baden                       16.2          1.43\n                                ----         -----\n                                11.7         47.38\n\nWe dismiss the _New Englander_ from the examination of provinces with\nthe conviction that he ought now to become a wiser if not a better\nman.\n\n2dly. The _New Englander_ gives us another division of his work,\nentitled thus, \"3. _Comparison of mixed populations_,\" the object of\nwhich seems to be two-fold: 1st, To show the wonderful effect of a\nlittle Protestant salt in a mass of Catholic corruption; and 2dly, to\npush up the rate of Catholic Austria to a high figure by excluding\nthe best half of it, and thus to come out with flying colors in the\ngrand tabular statement of all the European countries. He commences\nwith the following round but very novel statement: \"The empire of\nAustria includes a population of 31,655,746; of these, 21,082,801 or\ntwo thirds, are non-Romanists, belonging to the Protestant church or\nGreek Church.\"\n\nThe population of the empire of Austria is really divided as follows:\n\n    Catholics      26,728,020\n    All others      7,703,976\n\nby which specimen we may form a good judgment of the general\naccuracy of the _New Englander_.\n\nHe goes on, \"In nine of the Austrian provinces the population is\nalmost exclusively Roman Catholic. In seven, the Roman Catholics\nare, on an average, in a minority of 46 per cent.\" He proves these\nassertions by a table of\n\n    _Mixed Provinces._\n\n                      ROMANISTS.   ILLEGITIMATE.\n\n    Hungary          52 per cent.   6 per cent.\n    Galicia          44    \"        8    \"\n    Bukowina          9    \"        9    \"\n    Dalmatia         81    \"        5    \"\n    Milit\u00e4rgrenze    42    \"        1.4  \"\n    Croatia, etc.    82    \"        5.5  \"\n    Transylvania     11    \"        7    \"\n                     --             ---\n       Average       46    \"        6    \"\n\naccompanied by the following remark: \"This falling of the rate of\nillegitimacy from twenty-one to six, when the proportion of Romanists\nto the population falls off from ninety-seven to forty-six, indicates\nthe salutary effect of Protestant Christianity, not only on its own\nfollowers, but also on the working of Romanism itself.\" But suppose\nthe population does not fall off from ninety-seven to forty-six per\ncent, and that in most of these provinces, and where the rate of\nillegitimacy is the lowest, there are no Protestants at all, and\na small proportion in the rest; what is shown, then, unless it be\nthe ignorance and bad faith of the _New Englander_, which professes\nto be the \"recognized exponent of those views _of religious life_\nwhich have given character to New England, and its essays to be\namong the best fruits of thought and opinion which the education\ngiven at Yale is adapted to foster\"? Alas! Messrs. Editors, you have\nunceremoniously dropped nearly 4,000,000 of Roman Catholics from\nyour computation. Are you not aware that the United Greeks are Roman\nCatholics? If you are not, we beg leave to enlighten you, and correct\nthe table you have so ostentatiously paraded before the public:\n\n                                                   _Jews & Schismatic_\n                   _Catholics._     _Protestants._      _Greeks._\n\n                   POP. IN    PR.    POP. IN    PR.    POP. IN    PR.\n                  THOUS'DS.   CT.   THOUS'DS.   CT.   THOUS'DS.   CT.\n\n    Hungary          5965     61       2349     24       1449     15\n    Galicia          4150     90         31      1        449      9\n    Bukowina           43     10       none      0        381     90\n    Dalmatia          338     81       none      0         77     19\n    Milit\u00e4rgrenze     454     43         20      2        587     55\n    Croatia, etc.     721     85       none      0        130     15\n    Transylvania      775     40        510     27        637     33\n                   ------     --       ----     --       ----     --\n        Total      12,446     65       2910     15       3760     20\n\nThe \"salutary effect of Protestant Christianity in\" Galicia,\nBukowina, Dalmatia, Milit\u00e4rgrenze, Croatia, etc., is wonderful, and\nindeed little short of miraculous, considering how exceedingly small\nthe quantity of it is. If the presence of one per cent of Protestants\ncan so ameliorate the condition of things in Galicia, what a land\nof heavenly purity Connecticut must be! But we arouse ourselves\nto finish our task, or we shall become entirely absorbed in these\nsublime reflections.\n\nThe _New Englander's_ \"experiment\" with mixed populations is an\nentire failure. We will give a much more reliable table, to show the\ninfluence of the Catholic and Protestant religion among people of the\nsame race, and living together in the same communities, and under\nthe same laws. The census of illegitimacy has been taken in Prussia\naccording to the religious faith of the people.\n\n    _Illegitimacy in Prussia._\n\n                        AMONG                 AMONG\n                     PROTESTANTS.           CATHOLICS.\n                  Pop. in               Pop. in\n                  thous'ds.  pr. ct.    thous'ds.  pr. ct.\n\n    Brandenburg     2509      12.05         66       8.40\n    Silesia         1704      12.03       1756      10.07\n    Saxony          1903      10.35        130       6.05\n    Pomerania       1401      10.35         15       9.31\n    Prussia         2137       9.67        815       7.45\n    Posen            502       7.06        950       6.82\n    Westphalia       740       4.18        907       3.35\n    Rhineland        826       3.35       2494       3.67\n                  ------      -----       ----       ----\n    Total         11,722      10.01       7123        6.4\n\nWe take our leave of the \"comparison of mixed populations.\" If the\n_New Englander_ is satisfied with our treatment of the subject, we\nare sure we are with his; for it enables us to put this matter once\nmore before an enlightened public, leaving them to form their own\nopinions about it.\n\nWe now come to the _New Englander's_ final division of the subject:\n\"4. Comparison of nations.\"\n\nHere is the grand extinguisher of all Catholic pretensions. The whole\nquestion is to be put in a nut-shell in the following table, and that\naccording to the very criterion proposed by THE CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\n    _New-Englander's Table of Illegitimacy in European Countries._\n\n    PROTESTANT.      PR. CT.            CATHOLIC.         PR. CT.\n\n    Denmark             11            Baden                16.2\n    England, Scotland, and            Bavaria              22.5\n      Wales              6.7          Belgium               7.2\n    Holland              4            France                7.5\n    Prussia, including                German Austria       18.1\n      Saxony & Hanover   8.3          ? Italy (defective)    5.1\n    Sweden, with Norway. 9.6          ? Spain (defective)    5.5\n    Switzerland          5.5\n    W\u00fcrtemberg          16.4\n                        ----                                ----\n\n        Average          8.8              Average           11.7\n                                      Or rejecting Italy\n                                        and Spain           14.5\n\nWhat strikes us first of all is the richness of these averages. Dear\n_New Englander_, you will be the death of us with your averages. Not\nthat we shall literally be killed off by them; but when we think of\nthe \"best fruits\" of the scholarship of Yale College producing such\naverages, by adding up a lot of rates of all sorts of countries, big\nand little, and dividing the sum by the number of countries, the idea\nis absurd enough to kill any one with laughter. Exuberance of fancy\nhas evidently exercised an unfavorable influence on the mathematical\nability of the author of this article, and neutralized the effect of\nthe excellent mathematical course given at Yale College.\n\nWe find in the table Italy and Spain marked with a note of\ninterrogation, as much as to say, \"What business have you here with\nsuch low averages? You ought to look a great deal worse than that,\nbeing such black and benighted Romanist countries as you are.\" And\nafter them the word \"defective\" in brackets. No doubt the best of\nreasons will be given for this. Let us see. \"The returns for Italy\nand Spain are utterly defective and untrustworthy. Assuming the\nordinary birth-rate, the returns show that in Italy _more than one\nfourth_ of the births fail to be registered.\" Why does not the _New\nEnglander_ give the figures, that we may judge for ourselves? What he\nhas not done we will do for him:\n\n    _Births in Italy._\n\n    1863            881,342\n    1864            859,663\n    1865            878,952\n                    -------\n        Average     873,319\n\nThe population of Italy is 24,231,860, and the birth-rate of Europe,\naccording to the _New Englander_, is 1 to 28. Dividing the number of\nthe population by 28, we get 865,608. The number of actual births\n_exceeds_ the number expected, instead of being _defective by \"more\nthan a fourth.\"_ As the reason alleged proves to be utterly false, we\nshall strike off the marks of interrogation from Italy, and leave out\nthe \"defective\" in the brackets.\n\nIn like manner, the returns for Spain are treated. \"As for Spain,\nits census returns, if quoted at all among statistics, are quoted at\neven a larger discount than its financial securities. The sum of the\nSpanish censuses for the last forty years has been up and down after\nthe following zigzag fashion:\n\n   \"1828          13,698,029\n    1837          12,222,872\n    1842          12,054,000\n    1846          12,164,000\n    1850          10,942,000\n    1861          16,000,000\n    1864          15,752,807\"\n\nNot having found our friend of the _New Englander_ very precise\nheretofore in his figures, we did not exactly take them on trust this\ntime, but looked in our \"Handbuch,\" and found the following\n\n    _Table of Censuses in Spain._\n\n    1822          11,661,865\n    1832          11,158,264\n    1846          12,162,872\n    1857          15,464,340\n    1860          15,673,536\n\nwhich does not exhibit any great \"zigzag\" propensity.\n\nThe following table of births does not show any mark of being either\nuntrustworthy or defective, but is uncommonly complete and steady:\n\n                 LEGITIMATE.  ILLEGITIMATE.\n    1858           516,118       30,040\n    1859           525,243       31,080\n    1860           541,231       32,222\n    1861           577,484       34,125\n    1862           573,646       33,416\n    1863           565,144       32,997\n    1864           586,993       34,458\n    1865           581,686       33,227\n\nSo much for the romancing of the _New Englander_, which we might\nappropriately designate as building \"castles in Spain.\"\n\nWe beg our readers' pardon for these long lists of figures, but they\nare really necessary for the correct understanding of the matter.\nAs to Austria, we shall take the liberty to bring down her figure\nfrom 18.1 to 11.1; not that it would make so very much difference in\nthe general average of the nations, except in the clap-trap mode of\ncalculation adopted by the _New Englander_, but because justice, as\nwe have amply shown, demands it.\n\nWe shall now present a true table of the European countries, slightly\nmodifying some of the rates, to correspond to later and better\ninformation, and inserting all the omitted countries of which returns\nare given:\n\n    _Table of Illegitimacy in European Countries._\n\n                                        POPULATION\n       PROTESTANT.           PR. CT.    IN MILLIONS.\n\n    Denmark[17]                11            2.73\n    England and Wales          6.5         20.07\n    Scotland                  10.1          3.06\n    Holland                    4            3.53\n    Prussia                    8.6         18.94\n    Sweden and Norway          9.6          5.81\n    Switzerland                5.5          2.51\n    W\u00fcrtemberg                16.4          1.75\n    Other German States[18]    14.8          6.40\n                              ----         -----\n         Average               8.7         64.80\n\n                                        POPULATION\n       CATHOLIC.             PR. CT.    IN MILLIONS.\n\n    Baden                     16.2          1.43\n    Bavaria                   22.5          4.81\n    Belgium                    7.2          4.98\n    France                     7.2         38.07\n    Austria                   11.1         34.98\n    Italy                      5.1         24.23\n    Spain                      5.5         15.67\n                              ----        ------\n         Average               8.4        124.17\n\nThe _New Englander_ has been quite hard on us for classing Holland\nand Switzerland, in which there are very large Catholic minorities,\nas mixed countries, and remanded them with an air of injured\ninnocence forthwith into the Protestant column, where it will be\nobserved they present an uncommonly good appearance, being the lowest\non the list. We have shown by documentary evidence that in Prussia in\n1864, when there was a Catholic minority of thirty-eight per cent,\nthe rate of illegitimacy was brought down by it from 10 to 8.46, or,\nin other words, if all the Catholics could be removed at once out of\nthe land, the rate of Prussia would stand 10, whereas it appears now\n8.6. For this reason we thought fit to make some distinction, lest\nthere should be any strutting around in borrowed plumes, and to form\na table of mixed countries. We shall, therefore, carefully avoiding\nany further wounding of the delicate susceptibilities of the _New\nEnglander_, append a table, making allowances for the minorities on\nboth sides, coming just as near to the exact truth as it is possible:\n\n    _Table of Illegitimacy, including Majorities and Minorities._\n\n                                     PROT. POP.   CATH. POP.\n                           PR. CT.   IN MILL'S.   IN MILL'S.\n\n    Holland                  4.0        2.01         1.23\n    Italy                    5.1         .33        23.90\n    Spain                    5.5         .12        15.55\n    Switzerland              5.5        1.48         1.02\n    Catholics in Prussia     6.5         --          7.20\n    England and Wales        6.5       19.00         1.20\n    France                   7.2         .77        34.93\n    Belgium                  7.2         .02         4.97\n    Sweden and Norway        9.6        5.81          --\n    Protestants in Prussia  10.0       11.74          --\n    Scotland                10.1        3.00          .16\n    Denmark                 11          2.73          --\n    Austria                 11.1        3.45        26.73\n    German States           14.8        5.88          .52\n    W\u00fcrtemberg              16.4        1.20          .53\n                            ----       -----       ------\n    Mean Protestants         8.3       57.54       117.94\n    Mean Catholics           7.4\n\nTo sum up, we have for our final result:\n\n    _New Englander's Averages._\n\n    Protestant    8.8\n    Catholic     11.7; or, omitting Italy and Spain  14.5\n\n    _True Averages._\n\n    Protestant    8.3\n    Catholic      7.4\n\nHere we are glad to end the general investigation, and to show\nthat, if we are not very much better than our neighbors, we are not\nany worse, and are not to be hounded down with the cry of vice and\nimmorality by a set of Pharisees who are constantly lauding their own\nsuperiority, and thanking God they are so much better than we poor\nCatholics.\n\nWe must notice, before we conclude, some minor points of the _New\nEnglander's_ reply to THE CATHOLIC WORLD. He insists that it is\nhighly improbable that any of the foundlings received into the\nhospital at Rome come from the provinces, and says we have not\nadduced a particle of proof to the contrary. Well, as far as the\nreaders of the _New Englander_ are concerned, what is the use of\nadducing any proof?--for that very Christian journal takes no notice\nof any refutations of its statements, nor concedes any point,\nhowever strongly proved, but is solely occupied in showing, by\nfair means or foul, our \"total depravity,\" as if the very life and\nbreath of the Protestant religion depended on maintaining a deep\nand bitter hatred and contempt of Catholics. To our own readers,\nwe do not think it worth while to adduce any particular proof of a\nself-evident proposition. If there be a foundling hospital, receiving\ninfants left at its door, it requires no proof that it will serve the\nadjacent country as well as the city. We have documentary evidence\nto prove this point; but the _New Englander_ contains so many errors\nwhich require our attention, that we have not space for so trivial\na matter. We would like, however, to ask our friend of the _New\nEnglander_ whether he believes any of the _three thousand_ infants\nreceived in the foundling hospital of Amsterdam come from the country.\n\n2d. The _New Englander_ says, \"But where do the infants come from that\nare received in the multitudes of _country_ nunneries that abound\nthroughout the rural districts, and commonly have each its _cr\u00e8che_,\nor cradle, in which the child of shame may be dropped in secret with\na ring of the bell, and left?\"\n\nIt is time enough to answer this question when any proof of its truth\nis brought forward; but we can assure our friend that if any infants\nare so received, they all find their way to the hospital in short\norder.\n\n3d. We find the following unique and highly gentlemanly insinuation\nin the _New Englander_:\n\n    \"'The _Civilta Cattolica_ says, \"This proportion of 28.3 of\n    legitimate births for every one thousand of the population\n    speaks very well for a capital city.\" And so it does; it shows,\n    what we have always understood them to be, that the Romans are\n    as virtuous and moral as any people of the world.' Thus THE\n    CATHOLIC WORLD; to which it might safely add, that it shows\n    that the separation of an enormous mass of the most vigorous\n    part of the people under vows of celibacy and continence does\n    not necessarily check the multiplication of the population.\"\n\nWeakness in arithmetic and a prurient imagination have, no doubt,\ngiven rise to the above elegant extract; but we rebut it by informing\nour friend of the _New Englander_ that there is a difference between\n28.3 to the thousand and 1 to 28.3. Had he noticed this difference,\nhe would not have digged this pit for himself. The figures prove\nnothing more than his own ignorance, putting the most charitable\nconstruction on it.\n\nWe must give a specimen of the _New Englander's_ idea of fairness in\ncontroversy:\n\n    \"In his _Evenings with the Romanists_, Mr. Seymour,\n    anticipating the _tu quoque_ retort of the Roman Catholics,\n    said, 'If any man will name the worst of the Protestant\n    countries, I care not which, I will name a Roman Catholic\n    country still worse.' In this way, he proceeded to compare, in\n    1854, Saxony with Carinthia and sundry other regions on either\n    side, whereupon THE CATHOLIC WORLD has a violent outbreak of\n    mingled indignation and erudition at the extreme trickiness of\n    comparing Styria, Upper and Lower Austria, Carinthia, Salzburg,\n    Trieste, which are not countries at all, but simply the German\n    provinces of the Austrian Empire, and Bavaria, with countries\n    so different and wide apart as Norway, Sweden, Saxony, Hanover,\n    and W\u00fcrtemburg; the regions in question seem to have been\n    selected for their approximate equality in population.\"\n\nWell, as probably most people have not heard of the _countries_ of\nCarinthia, Styria, etc., we confess we were \"erudite\" enough to know\nand to point out that they were slices of Austria carved for the\noccasion, and we were a little indignant at the carving operation.\n\n\"Show me a bad _Protestant country_ where you please, and I will\nshow you a _Roman Catholic country still worse_.\" Hence, we have,\naccording to Mr. Seymour:\n\n    PROTESTANT     ROMAN CATHOLIC\n     COUNTRIES.      COUNTRIES.\n\n      Norway,          Austria,\n      Sweden,          Austria,\n      Saxony,          Austria,\n      Denmark,         Austria,\n      Hanover,         Austria,\n\nWe suppose this is all fair enough; but we cannot see it, our moral\nvision being so infirm.\n\n\"But these regions seem to have been selected for their approximate\nequality in population.\" So it seems, and our friend, Mr. S., has\n_made it seem_ so in this fashion: \"We compare Protestant Norway with\n1,194,610, and Roman Catholic Styria (Austria) with 1,006,971. Again,\nwe compare Protestant Sweden with 2,983,144, and Roman Catholic\nUpper and Lower (Austria) with 2,244,363.\" All very good; but now\nlet us go on: \"We compare Protestant Saxony _with its population_,\nand Roman Catholic Carinthia _with its population_. And we compare\nHanover _with its Protestant population_, and Salzburg _with its\nRoman Catholic population_.\" \"'Of course these countries are selected\n_for their approximate equality in population_.'\" In order that our\nreaders may see how much _equality_ there is in the populations of\nthese countries, we give the following\n\n    _Table of Populations._\n\n        PROTESTANT.                 CATHOLIC.\n\n    Saxony     2,343,994      Carinthia    342,469\n    Hanover    1,923,492      Salzburg     147,191\n\nSaxony is only seven times greater than Carinthia. Hanover only\ntwelve times greater than Salzburg. Very excellent is Mr. Seymour in\n\"anticipating the _tu quoque_ of the Roman Catholics.\"\n\nWe now desire to call the attention of our readers to one very\nremarkable phenomenon of the statistics. In Protestant England the\ncities have a lower rate of illegitimacy than the country, while in\nFrance the case is reversed, the countries are low and the cities\nhigh. The following table will show this:\n\n    _Rates of Illegitimacy in City and Country Districts of England._\n\n       CITY.   PR. CT.    COUNTRY.    PR. CT.\n\n    London       4.2    Nottingham      8.9\n    Liverpool    4.9    York, N. R.     8.9\n    Birmingham   4.7    Salop           9.8\n    Manchester   6.7    Westmoreland    9.7\n    Sheffield    5.8    Norfolk        10.7\n    Leeds        6.4    Cumberland     11.4\n\n    The rate for all England is 6.5.\n\n    _In France._\n\n    Rate in all France   7.2\n    Rate in cities      11.4\n    Rate in the country  4.4\n\nFrom this we draw the conclusion that for Protestants city life is\ndecidedly the best, and it will be the duty of ministers to crowd\nas many of their flocks as possible out of the polluted air of the\ncountry into the moral atmosphere of the cities, and in England\nto endeavor to concentrate them particularly in the very virtuous\ncommunities of London and Liverpool. But we are sorry the gospel\ntrumpet gives such a feeble sound in the country districts, and we\nhope some of the city clergy will get _a call_ to go into these\nbenighted districts, (abjuring the brown-stone fronts and high\nsalaries,) and bring them back at least to the level of the city\npopulation, where there are _so many and varied temptations, and\nsuch surprising purity_. Our Catholic people seem to flourish better\nin the country, and we sincerely hope that those who come over from\nEurope will get farms out West, instead of settling down in New-York\nor other cities. We did have an idea that the influence of religion\nwas best exerted in the country, where the pastor knows each one\nof his flock, and would rather have compared the country people in\nProtestant lands with the country people in Catholic lands, to test\nthe influence of religion upon them; but as the _New Englander_ seems\nto think the comparison is best made in the cities, we leave every\nreflective person to form his own judgment. If the _New Englander_\nis right, we fear our Lord was wrong in asking us to pray, \"Lead us\nnot into temptation;\" but Protestants should rather pray, \"Lead us\ninto temptation,\" because it is precisely in temptation they are most\nvirtuous.\n\nWe did not intend to say a single word on the subject of murders,\netc., because we have not any complete statistics on the subject, and\nbecause we do not like the labor of hunting them up, just at present;\nbut as this thing is paraded before us like a red rag before a bull,\nwe will just make one dash at it, and, giving it a blow sufficient to\ndispatch it, leave the rest of the matter until we find it convenient\nto take it up. Mr. Seymour gave the following items in his book:\n\n    Ireland   19 homicides to the million.\n    France    31     \"       \"       \"\n    England    4     \"       \"       \"\n\nand we find the following table in the _New Englander_:\n\n    _To the Million of Population._\n\n                                                   ENGLAND.  FRANCE.\n\n    Convictions of murder and attempts              1\u00bd        12\n    Convictions of infanticide in various degrees   5         10\n\nWe give the latest returns on the subject from the \"Handbuch\" for\nFrance and from _Thom's Official Directory for England and Ireland_,\n1869.\n\n                        CONVICTIONS AND\n                      SENTENCES TO DEATH.   EXECUTIONS.\n\n    1864. France                9                5\n    1867. England and Wales    27               10\n    1867. Ireland               3                0\n\nIt will not require much ingenuity to see where the truth lies. \"_Ex\nuno disce omnes._\"\n\nWe advise the _New Englander_ to subject in future the articles of\nits unfortunate correspondent, of whom it is evidently ashamed, to\nthe revision of a professor of mathematics.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[15] _New Englander_, January, 1870. Article entitled, \"Moral Results\nof the Romish System.\"\n\n_Handbuch der vergleichenden Statistik._ Leipzig. 1868.\n\n_Historisch-politische Bl\u00e4tter._ Neuntes Heft, Munich. 1867. Article\nentitled, \"Allgemeine und confessionelle Statistik in Preussen.\"\n\n[16] Including kingdom of Saxony, Brunswick, Hanover,\nMecklenburg-Schwerin, Saxe-Weimar-Eisenach, Saxe-Altenburg, Hesse,\nand Bremen.\n\n[17] Including Schleswig-Holstein.\n\n[18] Saxony, Brunswick, Hanover, Mecklenburg-Schwerin,\nSaxe-Weimar-Eisenach, Saxe-Altenburg, Hesse, and the city of Bremen.\n\n\n\n\nTO THE RAINBOW.\n\n\n    All-glorious shape that fleet'st, wind-swept,\n      Athwart the empurpled, pine-girt steep,\n    That sinless, from thy birth hast wept,\n      All-gladdening, till thy death must weep;\n\n    That in eterne ablution still\n      Thine innocence in shame dost shroud,\n    And, washed where stain was none, dost fill\n      With light thy penitential cloud;\n\n    Illume with peace our glooming glen;\n      O'er-arch with hope yon distant sea,\n    To angels whispering, and to men,\n      Of her whose lowlier sanctity\n\n    In God's all-cleansing freshness shrined,\n      Disclaimed all pureness of her own,\n    And aye her lucent brow inclined,\n      God's handmaid meek, before his throne.\n\n                                             AUBREY DE VERE.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FIRST \u0152CUMENICAL COUNCIL OF THE VATICAN.\n\nNO. THREE.\n\n\nThe second month of the Vatican Council has seen no interruption\nof its labors, nor of the intense interest which these labors seem\nto excite on every side. In truth, the intensity of this interest,\nespecially among those who are not friendly to the council, would be\ninexplicable, did we not feel that there is in reality a struggle\ninvolved therein between the cause of religion and the cause of\nirreligion. The meetings of the prelates are private and quiet. The\nsubjects under discussion are, at best, only vaguely known outside.\nThe names of the speakers may be learned. You may ascertain, if\nyou persist in the effort, that one bishop has a fine voice, and\nwas well heard; that another has an exceedingly polished delivery;\nthat a third is remarkable for the fluency, and a fourth for the\nclassic elegance with which he spoke in Latin. But all your efforts\nwill fail to elicit a report of the substance of the speech of\nany prelate. These speeches are for the council itself--for the\nassembled fathers to whom they are delivered--and are not for the\npublic at large, nor for Buncombe. They are under the guard of the\nhonor of the bishops and the oath of the officials, and are to be\nkept secret until the acts of the council are lawfully published.\nAnd yet \"own correspondents,\" \"occasional correspondents,\" \"special\ncorrespondents,\" and \"reliable correspondents\" from Rome have failed\nnot, day after day, to fill the columns of newspapers--Italian,\nFrench, English, German, Belgian, and Spanish, and doubtless others\nalso, if we saw them--with their guesses and suspicions, their\ntiny grains of truth and bushels of fiction. Ponderous columns of\neditorial comments are often superadded, as it were, to increase the\namount of mystery and the mass of errors. Even the brief telegraphic\nnotices seem to be often controlled or made to work in this sense.\nThe telegrams from Rome itself ought to be, and we presume are,\ncorrect. The author of a flagrant misstatement sent from this city\ncould be identified and held responsible. But it is said that,\noutside of the limits of the Pontifical States, there is a news-agent\nwho culls from letters sent him for that purpose most of those\nwonderful statements about the council which the telegraph wires are\nmade to flash over Europe, and even across the Atlantic to America.\nThe result of all this on the mind of one in Rome is ofttimes\namusing. During our civil war, we once found ourselves in a railway\ncar with an officer who had lost an arm. \"Colonel,\" asked some one,\n\"in what battle were you wounded?\" The colonel laid down the papers\nhe had been reading, sighed heavily, as if wearied, at least in\nmind, and answered, \"At the time, I thought it was at the battle\nof Chancellorsville; but since I have been reading these newspaper\naccounts of that battle, I have come to the conclusion that I was not\nthere at all.\" The newspaper reporters of the council labor under\nfar greater difficulties than did the army correspondents, and are\nproportionately inaccurate.\n\nMeanwhile, the council moves on in its direct course, like a\nmajestic steamer on the ocean, undisturbed by these winds blowing\nalternately from every point of the compass, and unheeding the\nwavelets they strive to raise. Within the council, every thing is\nproceeding smoothly and harmoniously, some think more slowly than was\nanticipated. But the fathers of the council feel they have a great\nwork to do conscientiously, and they are engaged earnestly and in the\nfear of God in its performance.\n\nAs yet, a third public session of the council has not been held,\nnor has any public announcement been made of the day when it may be\nlooked for. But the time is busily employed. We stated in our last\nnumber that a _schema_ or draft on some doctrinal points had been\ngiven to the prelates early in December, and had been learnedly\ndiscussed, no less than thirty-five speakers having canvassed its\nmerits. At the conclusion of the discussion, the _schema_ was\nreferred to the Deputation, or Committee on Faith. All the discourses\nhad been taken down and written out by stenographers, with an\naccuracy which astonished and elicited the commendation of such\nbishops as examined the report of their own speeches. These reports\nwere likewise handed over to the committee, that no remark might be\noverlooked or forgotten. All will be taken into consideration and\nduly weighed, together with further remarks before the committee,\nby the theologians who drew up the _schema_ in the Preparatory\nCommittee. The committee is charged to present the matured result to\nthe assembled congregation at the proper time, when it will again be\nconsidered, perhaps discussed, and finally voted on.\n\nOn January 14th, the fathers again assembled in a general\ncongregation in the council-hall, altered and restricted as we have\nalready described it. Mass was celebrated at nine A.M., as is always\ndone, by one of the senior prelates. At its conclusion, the five\npresiding cardinals took their place. Cardinal De Angelis, the chief\none, took his seat for the first time, and recited the usual opening\nprayer.\n\nAt the previous congregations, five of the _deputations_ of the\ncouncil had been filled by election. The sixth--that on oriental\nrites and on missions--still remained to be filled. Twenty-four\nmembers were to be elected by ballot.\n\nThe election was held in the usual form. The bishops had brought with\nthem their ballots already written out. Several attendants passed,\ntwo and two, along the seats of the prelates, one of them bearing a\nsmall wicker-work basket. Each prelate deposited therein his ballot.\nIn a few moments all had quietly voted. The baskets were borne to the\nsecretary's table in the middle, in front of the presiding cardinals.\nThe ballots were placed in boxes prepared to receive them. The boxes\nwere closed and sealed, to be opened afterward before the regular\ncommittee for this purpose, when the votes would be counted, and the\nresult ascertained.\n\nThe following prelates were elected:\n\n    Most Rev. Peter Bostani, Archbishop of Tyre and Sidon,\n    Maronite, Asia.\n\n    Most Rev. Vincent Spaccapietra, Archbishop of Smyrna, Asia.\n\n    Most Rev. Charles Lavigerie, Archbishop of Algiers, Africa.\n\n    Rt. Rev. Cyril Behnam-Benni, Bishop of Moussoul, (Syrian,)\n    Mesopotamia.\n\n    Rt. Rev. Basil Abdo, (Greek Melchite,) Bishop of Mariamne, Asia.\n\n    Rt. Rev. Joseph Papp-Szilagyi, (Roumenian,) Bishop of Gross\n    Wardein.\n\n    Most Rev. Aloysius Ciurcia, Archbishop of Irenopolis, Egypt.\n\n    Rt. Rev. Aloysius Gabriel de la Place, Bishop of Adrianople,\n    Bulgaria.\n\n    Rt. Rev. Stephen Louis Charbonneaux, Bishop of Mysore, India.\n\n    Rt. Rev. Thomas Grant, Bishop of Southwark, England.\n\n    Rt. Rev. Hilary Alcazar, Bishop, Vicar Apostolic of Tonking.\n\n    Rt. Rev. Daniel McGettigan, Bishop of Raphoe, Ireland.\n\n    Rt. Rev. Joseph Pluym, Bishop of Nicopolis, Bulgaria.\n\n    Most Rev. Melchior Nazarian, (Armenian,) Archbishop of Mardin,\n    Asia.\n\n    Rt. Rev. Stephen Melchisedeckian, (Armenian,) Bishop of\n    Erzeroum, Asia.\n\n    Rt. Rev. Augustin George Bar-Scinu, (Chaldean,) Bishop of\n    Salmas, Asia.\n\n    Rt. Rev. John Lynch, Bishop of Toronto, Canada.\n\n    Rt. Rev. John Marang\u00f2 Bishop of Tenos, Greece.\n\n    Rt. Rev. Francis John Laouenan, Bishop, V.A. of Pondicherry,\n    India.\n\n    Rt. Rev. Anthony Charles Cousseau, Bishop of Angoul\u00eame, France.\n\n    Rt. Rev. Louis De Goesbriand, Bishop of Burlington, United\n    States.\n\n    Most Rev. Joseph Valerga, Patriarch of Jerusalem.\n\n    Rt. Rev. James Quin, Bishop of Brisbane, Australia.\n\n    Rt. Rev. Charles Poirier, Bishop of Roseau, West Indies.\n\n    His Eminence Cardinal Alexander Barnab\u00f2, Prefect of the\n    Propaganda, was appropriately named chairman of this committee.\n\nNo one in Rome, or elsewhere, could be found better qualified for\nthis position than this eminent and well-known cardinal, who has for\nso many years, and so ably, presided over the congregation specially\ncharged with superintending the world-wide missions of the Catholic\nChurch. Born in the year 1798, he was in his early boyhood when\nNapoleon annexed Italy to his empire. When the conqueror, in order\nto bind the country to him, ordered that a number of the sons of the\nnoble and most respectable families of Italy should be sent to the\nEcole Polytechnique at Paris, to be educated, as it were, under his\nown eye, the bright-eyed Alessandro Barnab\u00f2 was selected with others.\nHe continued in that school until the fall of Napoleon restored\nPius VII. to Rome. The lad could soon return home likewise, and\ndevote himself, according to the aspirations of earlier years, to\nthe service of God in the sanctuary. He pursued his ecclesiastical\nstudies with distinction under De Rossi, Finotti, Graziosi, Palma,\nand the giant professors of those years in Rome; became priest; and\nnaturally, with his learning, his energy, his amiability, was soon\nselected to give assistance in the congregations for the transaction\nof ecclesiastical business of the church in Rome. In due time he\nbecame secretary to the Congregation of the Propaganda, and made\nhimself familiar with the affairs and men of the church throughout\nthe world. Subsequently raised to the cardinalate, amid the applause\nof Rome, he succeeded Cardinal Fransoni in the prefectship of the\nsame Congregation of the Propaganda where he had been secretary, and\nover which he, for many years, presided with an executive ability not\nequalled since the days of Cardinal Capellar\u00f2, afterward Gregory XV.\n\nThis election having been finished, the bishops then entered on\nthe examination of matters of ecclesiastical discipline, several\n_schemata_, or draughts, on which had been presented to them for\nprivate study some time before. It is the ordinary usage of councils\nto examine matters of faith and matters of discipline as nearly _pari\npassu_ as can conveniently be done. It seems this usage will be\nobserved in the Vatican Council. There is a fundamental difference\nbetween matters of faith and matters of discipline.\n\nThe faith of the church is ever one--that originally delivered\nto her by the apostles. A council cannot alter it. The errors or\nheresies prevailing at any time, the uncertainty in some minds, or\nother needs of a period, may render it proper or necessary to give\na fuller, clearer, and more definite expression of that faith on\npoints controverted or misunderstood. The question always is, What\nhas really been the faith held in the past, from the beginning, by\nthe church on these points? The answer is sought in the words of Holy\nWrit, in the past declarations of the church, whether in the decrees\nof her councils or in the authoritative teachings of her sovereign\npontiffs, and in her traditions, as shown in the liturgies and forms\nof prayer, in the testimony of her ancient doctors and fathers, and\nin the concurrent teachings of the general body of her pastors and\nher theologians. The whole field of evidence is searched, and the\nanswer stands forth in noon-day light; and the council declares\nwhat really and truly has been and is the belief and teaching of\nthe Catholic Church on the question before it. And that declaration\nis accepted by the Catholic world, not simply on the word of men,\nhowever great their knowledge or accurate and scrutinizing their\nresearch--nor simply on account of their holiness of life, their\nsincerity of heart, or the impartiality of their decision. These are,\nindeed, high motives, such as the world must always respect, and\nperhaps enough ordinarily to satisfy human minds. But, after all,\nthey are but human motives. The Catholic is taught to base his belief\non a higher motive--the divine assurance of our Saviour himself that\nhe would always be with his church until the end of time, that he\nwould send the spirit of truth to teach her all truth and to abide\nwith her for ever, and that the gates of hell should never prevail\nagainst her. Our ears catch the words of the Saviour, \"Whosoever\nheareth you, heareth me;--whosoever despiseth you, despiseth me;\"\nand we know that the church is thus made the pillar and ground of\ntruth, and that he that will not hear the church is like the heathen\nand the publican. Hence on his divine word, which must stand though\nthe heavens and the earth pass away, we accept the declarations and\nteachings of the church, through her councils, as the continuation of\nthe teaching of Christ himself.\n\nSuch was the examination made in the Council of Nice, A.D. 325; such\nwas the spirit of faith in which its words were received when it\ndeclared the original and true belief of the church on the doctrines\nof the trinity and incarnation, and condemned the novelties of Arius\nand his followers. Such was the examination made in the councils of\nEphesus, Constantinople first and second, and of Chalcedon; such the\nfilial faith in which their decrees were received as they declared\nmore and more fully and explicitly the true Catholic doctrine of the\nincarnation, and condemned successively the errors of the Nestorians,\nthe Monophysites, and the Monothelites. Such was the course pursued\nin the various \u0153cumenical councils which followed, down to and\nincluding the Council of Trent. Such was the spirit in which their\ndeclarations of the faith have ever been received. To us, the\nCatholic Church of Christ is a living church, possessing, by the gift\nof her divine Founder, authority to teach in his name all that he\ntaught, and ever guarded by his divine power from so falling under\nthe assaults of hell as to teach error to man in his name, instead of\nthe divine truth which he established and commissioned her to teach.\nHer authority is ever the same--the same in the first and second\ncenturies as in the fourth and fifth, in the tenth and twelfth, in\nthe sixteenth, and in this nineteenth century; and it will continue\nthe same until time shall be no more.\n\nIt is thus that the Vatican Council takes up matters of faith, not\nto add to the faith, but to declare it and to establish it, where\nit has been impugned or doubted or misunderstood. The question is,\nWhat are the points on which the errors and the needs of this age\nrender it proper and necessary to give a renewed, perhaps a fuller,\nclearer, and more emphatic declaration of the doctrine of the church;\nand in what form of words shall such declarations be expressed?\nTo all these questions the bishops are bringing their calmest and\nmaturest judgment. There will be, as there must and should be, a free\nand frank interchange of views and arguments, in all sincerity and\ncharity, even as in the council of the apostles at Jerusalem there\nwas a great discussion before the definitive result was declared with\nauthority: _It hath seemed good to the Holy Ghost and to us._ When,\nafter such a discussion, the council shall give forth its decisions\nand decrees, they will be accepted by the children of the church.\nThey will not be new doctrines. The Catholic heart and conscience\nwill recognize them as portions of that faith which has heretofore\never been held. So true will this be, that we feel certain that one\nof the points which many of the enemies of the church will bring\nagainst this council, after its conclusion, will be, that it has done\ncomparatively nothing, that all that it taught was known and believed\namong Catholics before it was convened. But the same thing was said\nat the time of former councils, even of those which proved to be the\nmost important and influential in the history of Christianity.\n\nBut if faith is one and unchangeable, ecclesiastical discipline, at\nleast in most of its details, is not. The church has received power\nto bind and to loose, and necessarily has authority to establish\na discipline, not simply for the purpose of securing order within\nher fold, but to reach the further and higher purpose for which\nshe herself has been established and exists. Men must not merely\nbelieve the truth speculatively and with a dead faith. They must,\nby practical obedience to the law of God, by avoidance of sin\nthrough the assistance of divine grace, by practice of virtue and\nby holiness of life, be guided to keep the word which they have\nheard, and so come to be saved. This practical guidance is her\ndiscipline. The general principles on which her action is based are\nthe maxims and precepts of our divine Lord himself, the character\nof the holy sacraments which he established in his church to be\nthe channels of grace, the institutions which came to her from the\napostles, and which she will ever preserve, and those principles of\nright and morality which God has planted in the heart of man, and\nof which her divine commission makes her the highest and the most\nauthoritative exponent. These principles are sacred and unchangeable.\nBut in applying them to men there must be a large body of laws and\nregulations in detail. These are of her own institution, and form\nher ecclesiastical discipline. She can revoke some, amend or alter\nothers, and add still others, as she judges such action to be best\nadapted, under the ever-varying circumstances of the world, to secure\nthe great end for which she must ever labor--the salvation of souls.\n\nAs in all previous councils, so in this Vatican Council, these\nmatters of discipline have naturally and unavoidably come up for\nconsideration.\n\nWe said that, in the General Congregation, held on the 14th of\nJanuary, immediately after the election of which we have spoken, the\ndiscussion of them commenced. It was continued in other congregations\nheld on January 15th, 19th, 21st, 22d, 24th, 25th, 27th, 28th, 31st;\nFebruary 3d, 4th, 7th, 8th, 10th, 14th, and 15th. It is not yet\nclosed. So far, ninety-five prelates have addressed the council on\nthe various points of discipline that came under examination.\n\nIf the discussion on matters of faith, of which we spoke in our last\nnumber, was worthy of admiration for the vast learning it displayed,\nand the intellectual powers of the speakers, this one on discipline\nwas even more interesting for its practical bearing and the personal\nexperience, so to speak, which it recorded. The questions came up\nwhether this or that law of discipline, established eight hundred\nor five hundred or three hundred years ago, however wise and\nefficacious at the period of its institution, could now be looked on\nas sufficiently accomplishing its original purpose; or whether, on\nthe contrary, some new law, proposed for the consideration of the\nprelates, might not now be wisely substituted for it. Bishops from\nevery part of the world brought the light of their own experience to\nillustrate the subject. They bore, as it were, personal testimony\nto the good effects and to the inconveniences of those rules and\nlaws in their respective dioceses. It was indeed most touching;\nand it is said that the assembly was moved to tears as an eloquent\nbishop, burning with zeal for the house of the Lord, told, with\naccents of apostolic grief, of the woes of religion, and of disorders\nthat almost broke his heart--disorders against which he struggled,\nseemingly in vain, because they arose from, or were supported by, the\nintermeddling and abuses, and tyranny of the civil government, which\nclaims to be \"free and progressive,\" but is ever grasping at things\necclesiastical, ever striving to wield ecclesiastical power, and at\ntimes pretending to uphold and defend such intrusion by pretext of\nthe laws and privileges of other times, when rulers and people alike\nprofessed to fear God and to respect his church.\n\nEvery portion of the world was heard from. The East, through\nChaldeans, Maronites, and Armenians. The West, through Italian,\nFrench, German, Hungarian, Spanish, Mexican, Peruvian, Brazilian,\nEnglish, Irish, and American bishops. The past was interrogated as to\nthe reasons and motives on which the olden laws were based, and the\nspecial purposes they were intended to effect; and the present, as to\ntheir actual observance and effects in this century. Even the future\nwas examined, so far as men may look into it, to conjecture what\ncourse the world was taking; and what, on the other hand, would be\nthe most proper course for the church to pursue in her legislation,\nin order to secure the fullest observance of the laws of God, and the\ntruest promotion of his glory.\n\nWe might well be assured that, even humanly speaking, such abundance\nof knowledge and experience, such careful examination of all the\npast and present bearings of the subjects, such a keen, calm\nscrutiny of the future, would secure to the church from such men an\necclesiastical legislation of the highest practical wisdom, as well\nin what is retained as in what is changed or added as new. But, as\nCatholics, we should never lose sight of that higher wisdom with\nwhich the Holy Ghost, according to the words of Christ, and in answer\nto the prayers of the Catholic world, will not fail to guide the\nfathers of the council.[19]\n\nIt will thus be seen that during this month the council has steadily\npursued the even tenor of its way, without any public session. In\nfact, no day has as yet been assigned even as the proximate date of\nthe third public session. No one outside the council seems able to\nsay precisely what progress has been made in discussing and disposing\nof matters. Still less can we say when the council will close. There\nseems to be a feeling that the discussions will continue until\nJune, when the almost tropical heat of a Roman summer must set in.\nThis will, of course, necessitate an adjournment until the close\nof October, when the bishops would probably reassemble to continue\ntheir work. Time only can show whether there is any truth in this\nprognostication. Some of the bishops, of a more practical turn of\nmind, or more desirous of returning soon to their dioceses, are\nstriving to find a mode of conciliating the most perfect freedom\nof discussion with a more rapid progress in the matters before the\ncouncil. The most sacred right in a council is freedom to state\none's views on matters in controversy, and to uphold them by all\nthe arguments in one's power. This right has so far been most fully\nenjoyed and freely used. No plan that would take it away would be\nentertained.\n\nEvery day in Rome now convinces a sojourner more and more strongly of\nthe unity, the catholicity, and the sanctity of the church of Christ.\nFaith that heretofore was almost extinct beneath the ashes of worldly\nthoughts, here glows again and bursts into a bright flame. Elsewhere\nwe believed these truths; here we seem to behold with our eyes, and\nto touch with our hands their reality. No one can be privileged\nto mingle with the bishops here without being impressed with their\nperfect unity in all things declared and taught by the church, and\nwith the undisguised readiness or rather firm intention of all, to\naccept and to hold and to teach all that, under the light of the Holy\nGhost, shall be declared of faith in this Vatican Council. If, during\nthe discussion and examination, they may take different views, this\ndoes not disturb the cordial affection among them. They can array\ntheir strongest arguments without ever descending to personalities.\nThey are chary of indulging even in witticism calculated to relieve\nthe solemnity of the debate by a smile. In all the discussion there\nis not only the highest gentlemanly courtesy, but also that true\ncharity and union of hearts which must accompany that unity of faith\nwhich they solemnly professed to hold, and which must, if possible,\nbe confirmed and strengthened in this Vatican Council.\n\nTo be fully impressed with this perfect unity, one must be privileged\nto mingle somewhat with the bishops. But even the cursory glance of a\nstranger sees the evidence of the catholicity of the church presented\nby the gathering of so many bishops from so many portions of the\nworld around the central chair of unity. We have already spoken of\nthis in our former articles. We will now give a summary, almost\nofficial, which has just been made out, classifying the prelates who\nhave attended, according to their nationalities and dioceses:\n\n        EUROPE.\n\n    Austria and Tyrol,                              10\n    Bohemia and Moravia,                             5\n    Illyria and Dalmatia,                           13\n    Hungary and Gallicia,                           20\n    Belgium,                                         6\n    France,                                         84\n    Germany, North Confederation,                   10\n    Germany, South Confederation,                    9\n    England,                                        14\n    Ireland,                                        20\n    Scotland,                                        2\n    Greece,                                          5\n    Holland,                                         4\n    Lombardy,                                        3\n    Venice,                                          8\n    Naples, Kingdom of,                             65\n    Sicily and Malta,                               13\n    Sardinia, Kingdom of,                           25\n    Tuscany and Modena,                             19\n    States of the Church, including cardinals,\n      and also all the bishops from sees in\n      those portions seized by Victor Emmanuel,    143\n    Portugal,                                        2\n    Switzerland,                                     8\n    Spain,                                          41\n    Turkey in Europe,                               12\n    Russia, an administrator of a diocese who\n      has escaped,                                  1\n\n        ASIA.\n\n    China and Japan,                                15\n    Hindostan and Cochin China, etc.,               18\n    Persia,                                          1\n    Turkey in Asia,                                 49\n\n        AFRICA.\n\n    Algeria,                                         3\n    Canary Islands and the Azores,                   3\n    Egypt and Tunis,                                 3\n    Senegambia,                                      1\n    Southern Africa,                                 4\n\n        OCEANICA.\n\n    Australia and the Islands of the Pacific\n      Ocean,                                        14\n\n        AMERICA.\n\n    Dominion of Canada, and other British\n      Provinces of North America,                   16\n    United States,                                  49\n    Mexico,                                         10\n    Guatemala,                                       4\n    West Indies,                                     5\n    New Granada,                                     4\n    Ecuador,                                         4\n    Guyana,                                          1\n    Venezuela,                                       2\n    Peru,                                            3\n    Brazil,                                          6\n    Bolivia,                                         2\n    Argentine Republic,                              5\n    Chili,                                           3\n\n    That is, Europe,   541\n             America,  114\n             Asia,      83\n             Africa,    14\n             Oceanica,  14\n                       ---\n                       766\n\nDivided according to rites, they stand as follows:\n\n    Latin Rite,         706\n    Greek Rite,           3\n    Greek Bulgarian,      1\n    Greek Melchite,      10\n    Greek Roumenian,      2\n    Greek Ruthenian,      1\n    Armenian,            21\n    Chaldean,            10\n    Syrian,               7\n    Maronite,             4\n    Coptic,               1\n                        ---\n                        766\n\nTruly, it is such a gathering as no human power could assemble. Only\nthe Catholic Church could effect it. No wonder that strangers from\nevery clime, especially devout Catholics, have flocked to Rome these\nmonths as they never flocked before.\n\nThe splendor of the ceremonies of our holy church, as celebrated\nin Rome, especially in St. Peter's, is unequalled in the whole\nworld. A gray-haired ambassador was present some years ago in St.\nPeter's at the celebration of high mass by the sovereign pontiff\non Easter-Sunday. He had been present at two imperial and several\nroyal coronations, where every effort was made to give a national\nmagnificence to the ceremony; had witnessed several royal marriages,\nand grand court celebrations of every character. But he declared\nthat every thing he had ever seen sank into insignificance before\nthe grandeur and the sublime magnificence of that high mass. Never\nwere the religious celebrations of Rome so magnificent as they have\nbeen and are during this council, when the sanctuary is filled with\nmore than half a thousand prelates, Latin and oriental, in their\nrich and varied vestments. Strangers and Romans alike crowd the\ngrand basilica. Yet the stranger often fails to see, what the Roman\nfeels, as it were, by instinct, that all this effort at splendor\nand magnificence is purely and wholly a tribute of man to honor the\nreligion which God in his love and mercy has given, and that no\npart of it is for man's own honor. If the stranger would realize\nthis truth, which is the soul of the ceremonial of the church, he\nhas but to follow these prelates from the sanctuary to their homes,\nand witness the simplicity and self-denial of their private lives.\nPerhaps he will be shocked at the unexpected discovery of what he\nwould term discomfort and poverty.\n\nIn such personal simplicity and self-denial the sovereign pontiff\nhimself gives the example in the Vatican. The palace is large--very\nlarge; but the libraries, the archives, the various museums, and\nthe galleries and halls of paintings, of statuary, and of art,\noccupy no small portion of it. Other portions of it are devoted to\nthe vast workshops of the unrivalled Roman mosaics, others still to\nthe mint. The offices of the secretary of state, and the bureaus of\nother departments are there. The Sixtine, and Pauline, and other\nchapels are found in it; and the various officers and attendants of\nthe court have many of them their special apartments. The pontiff\nhas his suite of rooms, as well those of state as those that are\nprivate. You enter a large, well-proportioned hall, rich with gilding\nand arabesque and fresco paintings. A company of soldiers might\nman\u0153uvre on its marble floor. It is large enough to receive the\nfullest suite of a sovereign who would visit the pope. Just now,\neight or ten soldiers in a rich military uniform are lounging here,\nas it were, for form's sake. In the next room--a smaller and less\nornamented one, yet in something of the same style, and with a few\nbenches for furniture--a servant will take your hat and cloak. In\na third room, you find some ecclesiastical attendants. You pass\nthrough a fourth room of considerable size. It is now empty. At times\na consistory or meeting of the cardinals for business is held here;\nat other times, an ascetic Capuchin father, with his tonsured head,\nhis long beard, his coarse brown woollen cassock fastened around the\nwaist by a cord, and with sandalled feet, preaches to the cardinals\nand bishops and officials of the court, and to the pope himself. With\nthe freedom and bravery of a man who, to follow Christ, has given up\nthe world, and hopes for nothing from man, and fears nothing save to\nfail in his duty, he reminds those whom men honor of their duties and\nobligations, and in plain, ofttimes unvarnished language, will not\nshrink from speaking the sternest, strongest home truths of religion.\nYou pass through the silent hall in reverence. A fourth hall, with a\nbetter carpeting, (for it is winter,) and tolerably warmed, is the\nante-chamber proper, where those are waiting who are to be admitted\nto an audience of the pope. In another smaller room, opening from\nthis one, those are waiting whose turn it will be to enter next; or\nperhaps a group is assembled, if the pope will come out hither to\nreceive them, as he sometimes does, when the audience is simply one\nnot of business, but simply for the honor of being presented to him\nand of receiving his blessing. All these which we have enumerated\nare the state or ceremonial apartments. From the last one, you pass\nto the private office or sitting-room of the sovereign pontiff. It\nis a plain room, about fifteen feet by twenty, not lofty, lighted by\na single window, and without a fire-place. Two or three devotional\npaintings hang against the walls; a stand supports a small and\nexquisitely chiselled statue of the Blessed Virgin. At one side of\nthe room, on a slight platform, is the pope's arm-chair, in which he\nis seated, clothed in his white woollen _soutane_. Before him is his\nlarge writing-table, with well-filled drawers and pigeon-holes. On it\nyou see pens, ink, sand, and paper, his breviary, perhaps, and one\nor two volumes, and an ivory crucifix. A small case in the corner of\nthe room contains some other books, some objects of _vertu_, medals,\nand such articles as he designs to give as mementoes. There is a thin\ncarpet on the floor, and a couple of plain wooden chairs are near the\ntable. Here Pius IX. ordinarily spends many hours each day, as hard\nworked as any bank clerk. He is exceedingly regular in his habits.\nHe rises before five in summer, at half-past five in winter. In half\nan hour he passes to his private chapel and gives an hour and a half\nto his devotions, and to the celebration of two masses; the first\nby himself, the second by one of his chaplains. A cup of chocolate\nand a small roll of bread suffices for his breakfast. He at once\npasses to his office, and works for one hour alone and undisturbed.\nThen commence the business audiences of the heads or secretaries\nof the various departments, civil and ecclesiastical; a long and\ntedious work, in which he gives a conscientious attention to every\ndetail. By half-past eleven A.M., he commences to receive bishops\nand ecclesiastics or strangers from abroad. This usually ends by one\nP.M., when he retires for his midday devotions, and for his dinner,\nand repose. This may be followed by more work, alone in his office.\nAt half-past three in winter, at half-past four in summer, if the\nweather allows it, he gives an hour and a half to a drive and a walk.\nReturning home, he takes a slight repast, and again the audiences\nfor business or for strangers commence, and last until after eight.\nAt nine punctually he retires, to commence again the same routine\nthe next day. Such are his regular days. At other times he must be\nin church, or must visit one institution or establishment or another\nin the city, spend an hour or two in ceremony or business, and hurry\nhome. Near this sitting-room is a smaller room where he takes his\nmeals alone; for the pope neither gives nor accepts entertainments.\nHis table does not cost more than thirty cents a day. Not far off is\nhis sleeping chamber, small as the other, with a narrow bed and hard\ncouch. Truly, his is no life of ease and pampered indulgence. There\nis a stern meaning in his title, _Servant of the Servants of God_.\n\nThe same simplicity and austereness marks the private life of the\ncardinals. There is now, indeed, an outward show, for they rank as\nprinces of the blood royal. There are the richly-ornamented carriages\ndrawn by brilliantly-harnessed horses, and attended by servants in\nlivery. There are the decorated state ante-chambers and halls. All\nthese things are for the public, and are prescribed by rule. If a\ncardinal has not himself the means to support them, he would be\nentitled to a state salary for the purpose of keeping them up. But\nback of all these may be found a plain, almost unfurnished room, in\nwhich he studies and writes, and a bed-chamber--we have seen some not\nten feet by twelve, carpetless and fireless. Oftentimes, too, the\ncardinal lives in the religious house of some community, and then\nmuch of the state can be dispensed with. But for the red calotte\nwhich he wears on his head, you often could not distinguish him from\nthe other clergymen in the establishment.\n\nThe same spirit seems to characterize the bishops who are now\ngathered together in Rome. All their splendor is in the church\nand for religion. In their private life they certainly do not\nbelong to that class of strangers from whose lavish expenditures\nin fashionable life the Romans will reap a rich harvest. They live\ntogether in groups, mostly in religious houses or colleges, or in\napartments, which several club together to take at moderate rates.\nThus the Chaldean patriarch, a venerable, white-bearded prelate, near\neighty years of age, with the other bishops of his rite, and their\nattendant priests, all live together in one monastery, not far from\nSt. Peter's. Whatever the weather, they go on foot in their oriental\ndress to the council, and when the meeting is over, return on foot.\nTheir stately, oriental walk, their calm, thoughtful countenances,\nthe colored turbans on their heads, the mixture of purple and black\nand green and red, in their flowing robes, set off by the gold of\ntheir massive episcopal chains, and their rich crosses sparkling with\ndiamonds, never fail to attract attention. But one should see them\nin their home, which they have made as Eastern as they could. The\norientals are exceedingly temperate in their meals, and as regards\nwine, are almost \"teetotalers.\" But they do love to smoke. As the\nvisitor is ushered into a room, where the only piece of furniture\nis a broad cushioned seat running round along the walls, on which\nare seated a dozen or more of long-bearded men, their feet gathered\nup under them in oriental fashion, and each one smoking a pipe a\nyard long, and filling the atmosphere with the clouds of Latakia, he\nalmost thinks himself in Mossoul. The pipes are gravely withdrawn on\nhis entrance, that the right hand may go to the forehead, and the\nheads may bow. The welcome, _schalom_, \"peace,\" is gravely spoken,\nwith perhaps a smile. He takes a seat on the divan and is asked\nto take a pipe, if so minded. From time to time, the silence is\ninterrupted by some remark in a full, sedate voice, and intensely\nguttural words of Chaldee or Arabic, whether on the last debate of\nthe council or on some new phase of the Eastern question, it is\nprobable the visitor will never learn. But he has caught a glimpse of\nquiet Chaldean life. Fourteen or fifteen of the Armenian prelates,\nwith their patriarch, live in a not very dissimilar manner. But the\nArmenians are much more akin to Europeans in their education and\ncharacter of thought. They are good linguists. All of them speak\nItalian fluently, many of them French, and some a little English.\nTheir society is agreeable and instructive, and is much sought.\n\nIn like manner eighteen of the American bishops are domiciled in the\nAmerican College. Some others are with the Lazarists at their mother\nhouse, others again are at St. Bridget's or St. Bartholomew's, or\nwith the Dominicans. Those that have taken apartments have contrived\nwith a very few exceptions to live together in groups. The English,\nthe Irish, in fact, nearly all the bishops, have followed the same\nplan. Some laughingly say that their college days have come back to\nthem, with their regularity and their accommodations. But these are\nnot quite as agreeable at fifty or sixty as they were at the age\nof twenty. Yet all feel, and none more thoroughly than the bishops\nthemselves, that this life of comparative retirement, of quiet and\nstudy, and of continued and closest intercourse with each other, must\ntend to prepare them, and to qualify them for the great work on which\nthey are engaged.\n\nAnother special feature of Rome in this season, dependent on the\ncouncil, is the frequency of sermons in various languages, and of\nvarious religious services in the churches. Rome as the centre of\nCatholicity is never without a certain number of clergymen from every\nnation of Europe. Each winter, too, sees thousands of visitors,\nCatholics, Protestants, and unbelievers, crowding her streets, drawn\nhither by motives of religion, of science, of curiosity, or of\nfashion. It was natural that visitors should be enabled to listen to\nthe truths of our holy religion preached in their own languages. This\nyear it could be done much more fully, and the opportunity has not\nbeen allowed to pass by unregarded. For example, \"The Pious Society\nfor Missions,\" an excellent community of priests, established in\nthis city over thirty years ago by the saintly Abbate Pallotta, has\nthe custom of celebrating the festival and octave of Epiphany each\nyear by appropriate religious exercises, and introducing sermons\nin several languages. This year they selected the larger and noble\nchurch of San Andrea della Valle, and continued their exercises for\neleven days. The following was the programme which they followed:\nAt 5.30 A.M., mass; at 6 A.M., Italian sermon and benediction; at\n9 A.M., high mass of the Latin rite; at 10 A.M., high mass in an\noriental rite, (Armenian, Greek, Copt, Chaldean, Roumenian, Melchite,\nBulgarian, Maronite, Armenian again, Syrian, Ambrosian;) at 11 A.M.,\na sermon in some foreign language--that is, Polish once, German\ntwice, Spanish twice, English six times, (Archbishop Spalding,\nFather Hecker, and Bishop McGill, Bishop Moriarty of Kerry, Bishop\nUllathorne, and Archbishop Manning were the English preachers.) At\n1.30 P.M. each day, a French sermon by a bishop; at 3.30 P.M., an\nItalian sermon and benediction; at 6 P.M., another sermon in Italian\nwith benediction. The sermons were all, of course, of a high order\nof merit. The church was crowded morning, forenoon, afternoon, and\nevening.\n\nFrench sermons have been continued ever since, mostly by the eloquent\nBishop Mermillod, of Geneva, and English sermons on Sundays and\nWednesdays by F. Burke, an eloquent Dominican of St. Clement's, and\nby Monsignor Capel. During Lent there will be an additional series of\nEnglish sermons, to be delivered by the American bishops.\n\nOn the 20th of January, the American episcopate and the American\nCollege received from the Holy Father a very signal and agreeable\nmark of his good will. It was meant, one might almost think, as a\nreturn visit on his part, in the only way which court etiquette\nallows. He chose the church of the college as the place where he\nwould pronounce a decree in the cause of the venerable servant of\nGod, John Juvenal Ancina, Bishop of Saluzzo, in Northern Italy.\nIn that church he would, of course, be surrounded by the American\nprelates, priests, and students, and from the church would pass to\nthe college.\n\nJohn Juvenal Ancina was born in Fossano, in Piedmont, in 1545.\nHaving finished his course of collegiate studies, he graduated in\nmedicine, and for years practised that profession with great ability,\nand greater charity toward the poor, to whom he devoted himself. In\ncourse of time he lost every near relation except one brother. Both\ndetermined with common accord to enter the sanctuary, and came to\nRome for that purpose, and there joined the Oratorians under St.\nPhilip Neri. John spent years in the priesthood, honored for his\nlearning, and still more for his piety and sweetness, and zeal in\nthe ministry, which he exercised in Rome, in Naples, and in Turin.\nMuch against his will, and only after repeated injunctions from the\npope, he was forced to accept the charge of the diocese of Saluzzo.\nHe had been the intimate and dear friend of St. Francis de Sales\nfor years of his priesthood, and their friendship continued until\nthe close of his short and fruitful episcopacy. He died in 1604,\nand St. Francis preached his funeral eulogy. He is the one with\nwhom the saint had the oft-cited exchange of puns complimentary,\n\"Tu vere _Sal es_.\" \"Immo, tu _Sal_ et _Lux_.\" The reputation of\nthe virtues of such a man could not die with him. Not long after\nhis death, the episcopal authority of Saluzzo allowed and directed\nthat full testimony should be taken under oath, from those who lived\nwith him and knew him well, as to the truth of his holy life. This\nwas fully and searchingly done throughout the diocess of Saluzzo.\nSimilar investigations were instituted, under similar authority,\nin Rome, in Naples, and in Turin, where at different times he had\nlived, and wherever such testimony could be found. The original\ndepositions--and they are a large mass, and are still extant--were\nsent to Rome. The pontiff directed that they should be laid before\nthe proper tribunal--the Congregation of Rites. They were found to\nfulfil the requirements of the canons, and to present such a _prim\u00e2\nfacie_ case as would authorize that congregation to proceed. This\nmeant that, after a certain lapse of time, during which affection and\nhuman feelings might die out, and any hidden truth might work its way\nto the light, the congregation should go over the ground a second\ntime, taking through other persons a second and independent mass of\ntestimony. This was done, and its results were compared with those of\nthe first mass of testimony. There was no contradiction; but on the\ncontrary, full and ample confirmation. Still, the opinion and belief\nof the witnesses was not yet deemed of itself sufficient. Taking\nthe facts of his life, his words and writings, and acts and habits,\nas they were thus proved, they were all studied out and carefully\nweighed in the scales of the sanctuary. There was no hurry--there\nnever is at Rome, as this council fully shows--and the decision\nof the congregation was not given until the year 1767. Then came\nmany political vicissitudes; first of northern Italy, as it passed\nfrom the domination of one power to that of another, and later, the\nconvulsions of all Europe consequent on the French revolution. The\nwhole matter slumbered until 1855, when it was again taken up. The\nexamination of the life and acts was gone over again as before. Step\nby step matters advanced until last November, at a general meeting\nof the Congregation of Rites, held in the presence of his holiness,\nit was decided _That the servant of God, John Juvenal Ancina, had in\nhis lifetime practised the theological virtues of faith, hope, and\ncharity, toward God and his neighbor, and the cardinal virtues of\nprudence, justice, fortitude, and temperance, and their accessory\nvirtues, in an heroic degree_. It was to announce this decision,\nin a formal decree, that the pontiff came on the 29th January, the\nfestival of St. Francis de Sales, to the church of the American\nCollege. He arrived at ten A.M., and was received at the portal\nof the college by the rector of the college, and all the American\nbishops now at Rome, and by a dozen others, Irish, English, Scotch,\nand Italian. He proceeded at once to the church, which, though\nsmall, is one of the handsomest in Rome for its beautiful marbles\nand fine statuary. The pontiff knelt, while one of his chaplains\ncelebrated mass. The bishops, all the American priests in the city,\nthe students of the college, and many Catholics from the United\nStates, and some other strangers, filled the little church. After the\nmass, the pontiff ascended to the throne prepared for him. Cardinal\nPatrizi, prefect of the Congregation of Rites Cardinal Capalti, who\nhad special charge of this case, and Cardinal Barnab\u00f2, protector\nof the college, stood next to him. The formal decree was read,\nproclaiming the decision in virtue of which we shall henceforth say,\n\"_the_ VENERABLE _John Juvenal Ancina_.\"[20] The superior general of\nthe Oratorians, to which community, as we have said, he belonged,\nreturned thanks in an eloquent and brief discourse in Latin. The\npope then, taking his theme from the life of the VENERABLE bishop,\naddressed to the prelates present a short and feeling discourse, in\nItalian, on the character and virtues which should adorn a bishop.\nThough he did not mention the council, it was evident that the\nthought of it filled his heart. He spoke of the servant of God whom\nhe had just declared venerable as imitating the apostles. They, from\nbeing fishermen, were called to be fishers of men; and he too, from\nbeing a physician of the body, was called to be a physician of souls.\nThis holy man he showed to be a model of bishops, and enlarged on the\ntext of St. Gregory the Great, that a bishop should be \"in thought,\npure; in deeds, eminent; in silence, discreet; in word, useful; in\nthe contemplation of heavenly things, elevated.\" \"Who will ascend\nto the mountain of the Lord? Let him be of pure hands and clean\nheart.\" Let him be single-minded, doing every thing for the glory\nof God, without any admixture of human motives. Let him be first in\nall good works, so as to be a pattern to his flock. He did not speak\nof that silence which means cowardice, or indifference to whatever\nevil goes on in the world. There is a time to speak, as well as a\ntime to be silent. The bishop must be useful in words, speaking out\nboldly whenever it is for the advantage of the Christian people. He\nmust be a man of prayer. What is the origin of the evils which we\nsee in the world? The prophet answers, \"Because there is no one who\nthinketh in his heart.\" The pontiff dwelt for a few moments on all\nthese points, and in conclusion quoted St. Gregory again, who said,\n\"I have given you a beautiful picture of a bishop, though the painter\nbe bad.\" \"What the saint says out of humility, I must say,\" he added,\n\"of myself in truth. But pray for me that God may give me strength\nto bear the heavy weight he has laid upon me. Let us pray for each\nother. Do you pray for me; and I call on the Almighty to bless you,\nand your dioceses, and your people.\"\n\nThe words of the pontiff were simple, because full of devotion and\ntruth; and the delivery was exquisitely perfect, in the earnest,\nheart-felt, subdued tones of his voice, and the chaste dignity of his\ngesture. All felt that the pontiff spoke from his paternal heart.\n\nThe Bishop of Saluzzo, the successor in this century of the VENERABLE\n_Ancina_, returned thanks; and all proceeded from the church to the\ngrand hall of the college. The cloister of the court-yard and the\nbroad stairways and corridors were adorned with drapery, tapestry,\nand evergreens. A splendid life-size portrait of his holiness, just\npainted by the American artist, Healy, for the exhibition about\nto be opened, had been sent to the college for the occasion, and\nwas placed in a prominent position. In the hall, the pontiff again\nspoke a few kind and paternal words, and Archbishop Spalding, in\nthe name of the American church, clergy and laity, made an address\nto the pope in Latin. The discourse was excellent in language and\nhappy in thought. His grace referred to the fact that Pius VI. had\ngiven us our first bishop, (Dr. Carroll, of Baltimore;) Pius VII. had\nmultiplied dioceses, and given us our first archiepiscopal see; and\nhe, Pius IX., had established six other archiepiscopal sees. So that\nin a country where sixty years ago there was but one bishop, there\nare now sixty, three fourths of whom are here in Rome to attend the\ngeneral council. Toward the end of his discourse, the good archbishop\nbrought in a few touches of true American wit. This is what Italians\nwould scarcely venture on, on such an occasion, and it was to them\nunexpected. Even the pope looked for a moment puzzled, as if he could\nnot conjecture what was coming; but as he caught the point, a smile\nspread over his countenance, and the smile developed into a hearty\nlaugh. As for the Italian prelates, at first they wondered--as who\nwould not, at an American joke in the language of Cicero?--but at\nlast not all their stately dignity could resist its force, and they\nlaugh yet, as they repeat it.\n\nThe bishops, the superiors, and students of the college, the priests\nwho were present, and the laity, approached to offer their homage to\nthe pontiff and receive his blessing. This over, he departed, but not\nuntil he had declared that he was delighted, more than delighted,\nwith his visit.\n\nROME, February 17, 1870.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[19] We have studiously avoided entering on the specific subjects\nof the debate among the fathers. So far as they have come to our\nknowledge, we are of course not allowed to speak of them, at\nleast at present. But we trust we shall not be held as violating\nany confidence when we repeat a statement made to us on the best\nauthority. Many of the fathers of the Vatican Council seem well\nacquainted with our Second Plenary Council of Baltimore. More\nthan once it was referred to with special commendation as having\nthoroughly seized the character of this modern age in which we live.\nAnd the desire was expressed that its special regulations on one\nor two points for the church in the United States could be made\nuniversal laws for the whole church.\n\n[20] When it shall have been established with the evidence required\nby the Congregation of Rites that it has pleased God to work two\nmiracles, of the first class, after the death of this venerable\nservant, through his intercession, a decree may be issued stating\nthat fact, and allowing his beatification. When two other miracles of\nthe same class shall have been proved with the same certainty to have\noccurred, after his beatification, the blessed servant of God may be\ncanonized and enrolled among the saints of the church.\n\n\n\n\nFOREIGN LITERARY NOTES.\n\n\nFor the sake of making a point against the Catholic Church,\nProtestants and indifferents are frequently so poverty-stricken\nin authorities as to quote Voltaire. When told that they cite the\nauthority of a man who was unprincipled, cynical, and impious, they\nanswer that such an estimate is simply the result of a bigoted and\nnarrow-minded prejudice, and that the great French philosopher was\nliberal, honorable, and conscientious.\n\nAn incident has lately occurred in France to call forth the\ndeliberate opinion of a body of men eminently fitted from superior\neducation, elevated position, and freedom from any possible suspicion\nof Catholic bias, to form an estimate which to our friends above\nreferred to must be looked upon as authoritative and decisive,\nalthough open to the objection of being too mild and qualified.\n\nSome fifteen years ago, a proposition was started in a Paris daily\nnewspaper for the popular collection, in small sums, of a sufficient\namount to erect a statue to Voltaire in the French capital. When the\nsuccess of the subscription seemed sufficiently assured, petition\nwas made to the government to grant a site on some public square on\nwhich to place the statue. After long delay, and some appearance of\nunwillingness, the petition was finally granted; but the announcement\nof this fact was immediately followed by the presentation of a large\nnumber of protests against the erection of the statue, which came\nin from all parts of the empire. One of these protests, signed by a\nthousand inhabitants of the departments of Le Gard and the Dr\u00f4me, and\nthe city of N\u00eesmes, and addressed to the senate, was referred to a\ncommittee of senators for consideration and report. The committee has\nmade a report, which is understood to be written by M. Silvestre de\nSacy, well known as former chief editor of the _Journal des D\u00e9bats_,\nand a distinguished member of the French Academy. From it we learn\nsomething of the petition, but not as much as we would like to\nknow. After a recital of the facts we have stated, the report goes\non to say: Undoubtedly, the government had authority to refuse the\npermission asked, and still has the power to withdraw it. The right\nof private persons to award statues to whomsoever they please, and\nto meet and raise money to pay for them, is certainly lawful. But\nthe public streets and squares are not their property. The number\nof these persons does not increase their right. They act, in such\na matter, solely for themselves, and not for the whole country, of\nwhich they have no right to pretend to be the representatives. Among\nthe serious considerations which might have made the government\nhesitate, is the very name Voltaire, which has two significations:\nthe one glorious for the human intellect and for French literature;\nthe other for which Voltaire himself would now blush, dragging down\nas it does the great historian and great poet to the miserable\ncalling of an impious and cynical pamphleteer. But it appears that\nthe subscribers have obtained the permission asked for. The site\nhas been selected, and the statue will be erected in one of the\nsquares of the new _Rue de Rennes_. The petition before us protests\nagainst this permission, and prays the intervention of the senate\nwith the government to obtain the withdrawal of a permission which\nit characterizes in the strongest terms. These petitioners see but\none Voltaire--an impious, immoral Voltaire, hostile to all religion;\na Voltaire who conspired with all the enemies of France for the\nhumiliation and ruin of his country; a Voltaire who, Prussian at\nRosbach with King Frederick, Russian with Catherine II., against\nunfortunate Poland, the violator of our purest glory in his poem\n_Jeanne d'Arc_, the enemy of liberty, equality, and fraternity, as\nmay be shown from a hundred passages in his correspondence and\nwritings, an abject courtier and a servile adulator of kings. \"I\nask,\" says the first petitioner, speaking for all the others--\"I ask\nthat the image of this man shall not appear upon our public squares,\nto cast insult in the face of the country. I ask that this disgrace\nbe spared France.\" The senatorial report then goes on to say that\nthere are two Voltaires--the Voltaire described in the petition, and\nthe Voltaire who wrote _La Henriade_, who, by various masterpieces\nin poetry and the drama, placed himself near Horace, Corneille, and\nBoileau; Voltaire the historian, to whom we are indebted for _Le\nSi\u00e8cle de Louis XIV._, the essay _Sur l'Esprit et sur les M\u0153urs\ndes Nations_, and that perfect model of rapid and lively narration,\n_L'Histoire de Charles XII._; the Voltaire, in fine, whose name could\nnot be covered with oblivion without obscuring some of the glories of\nFrench literature. No, continues the report, whatever may be asserted\nto the contrary, all of Voltaire is not in some shafts of satire\nwhich fell from the ill-humor of the partisan and the angry writer,\nin pamphlets against religion, as poor in good taste and good sense\nas in true science, in a poem in which it is most sad to see wit\nand talent pressed into the disreputable service of ornamenting the\nwretched obscenity of the argument; all of Voltaire is not in single\npassages selected from a correspondence of sixty years. If in these\nwere the whole of Voltaire, his memory would long since have been\naccursed or dead, his works long since have been without readers or\npublishers, and the idea of raising a statue in his honor would have\noccurred to no one. Although the avowal is a painful one, it must be\nconfessed that Voltaire has himself and the deplorable errors of his\ngenius alone to blame for the bitterness of the recriminations which\ninjure his brilliant fame. He has too often been unjust to others not\nto expect that others should be unjust to him. It is his own fault\nif his name recalls to pious thinkers, to timid hearts, to the faith\nof ardent souls, only the writer who would not respect in others the\nnoble hopes he himself had lost. Voltaire desired to be the leader\nof incredulity. He was; and now he pays the penalty for it. Something\nequivocal remains, and will ever remain associated with his fame.\nRespectable people can consent to award him eulogies and statues\nonly with distinctions and reserves. The declared enemy of disorder\nand demagogism, he is sometimes invoked as a seditious tribune, as\na burner of churches; and one of the most elegant minds has left in\nhis writings, along with a great many marvellous works, food for\npassions which, in his better days, his good taste and his good sense\nwould energetically condemn. The report concludes against asking the\nrevocation of the permission granted by the government, on the ground\nthat it will be understood by all that the honor of a statue is\nconceded not to the Voltaire with reason petitioned against, but to\nthe author whose works are subjects of legitimate national pride.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIn the year 400, a Buddhist priest, Fah-Hian, commenced the long\njourney from China to India and back, and left a narrative of his\ntravels. A century later, a similar journey was made by another\nBuddhist priest, Sung-Yun, who also left an account of his foreign\nexperiences. Singularly enough, these works have survived all\nthese centuries, and have long been objects of great interest to\nthe oriental scholars of Europe. Remusat and Klaproth published a\ntranslation of Fah-Hian at Paris in 1836. This work, in quarto,\nwas soon followed by an English translation by Laidley. Many\nserious errors, especially in geography, were pointed out in these\ntranslations by St. Julien, and Professor Neumann also gave a\ntranslation of the two Buddhist works, in the _Zeitschrift f\u00fcr\nhistorische Theologie_, vol. iii., 1833. Meantime, additional light\nhad been thrown upon the subject by such publications as Edkin's\nNotice of Buddhism in China, and General Cunningham's work; and a\nfull and amended version of the Buddhist priests' travels, together\nwith an interesting treatise on Buddhism, is now published in London\nby Tr\u00fcbner & Co. Its title is, _Travels of Fah-Hian and Sung-Yun,\nBuddhist Pilgrims, from China to India_, (400-518 A.D.,) translated\nfrom the Chinese by Samuel Beal.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe completion of Alfred von Reumont's History of the City of Rome,\n(_Geschichte der Stadt Rom_,) which has now reached its third volume,\nis looked for by European scholars with great interest. It is\nuniversally praised as a work of remarkable research, learning, and\nunusual impartiality.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_Testamenta XII Patriarcharum, ad fidem Cantabrigiensis edita;\naccedunt lectiones cod. Oxoniensis. The Testaments of the XII.\nPatriarchs; an Attempt to estimate their Historic and Dogmatic\nWorth._ By R. Sinker, M.A., Chaplain of Trinity College. Cambridge:\nDeighton, Bell. London: Bell & Daldy. 1869.\n\nAn elegant edition of this apocryphal work, carefully revised and\nannotated from manuscripts preserved at Cambridge and Oxford, with\na learned and judicious treatise. Ecclesiastical antiquity has left\nus but little positive information concerning these testaments. We\nare certain that the testaments of the twelve patriarchs were known\nto Tertullian and to Origen, but we do not know who wrote them. Was\nthe author a Jew, a Christian from among the Gentiles, or a Christian\nof Jewish race? Was he an Ebionite or a Nazarene? Is the work all\nfrom one hand, or is it interpolated? On all these points there is a\ndifference of opinion. Equally in doubt are the points, When was the\nbook written? for what class of readers was it specially intended?\nand what was the author's object in writing it? Mr. Sinker discusses\nthe subject with great firmness, and concludes, but without any\ndogmatism, that the author was a Jewish Christian of the sect of the\nNazarenes, and that the work was composed at a period between the\ntaking of Jerusalem by Titus and the revolt of the Jew Barcochba\nin 135. One of the most important portions of Mr. Sinker's work\nis on the _Christology_ of the Testaments, (pages 88-116.) He is\nsatisfied that the author expresses his belief in the mystery of the\nincarnation, and he sets forth the doctrine of the Testaments on\nthe Messiah, king and pontiff, descendant of Juda and Levi, priest\nand victim, Lamb of God, Saviour of the world, etc. etc. The work\nreally merits a longer notice, and should be in the hands of all\nwho can profit by its perusal. Many important questions concerning\nthe primitive history of Christianity, obscured by the fallacious\nconjectures of anti-Christian critics, may have much light thrown\nupon them.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSome of the English periodicals are not especially brilliant\nor profound in their appreciation of and comments upon foreign\nliterature. Take the London _Athen\u00e6um_, for instance, the same\nperiodical which last year approved with such an air of wisdom the\nauthor who undertook to revive the old exploded fable of a female\npope. It informs its readers, (number of 6th November last,) \"The\nMan with the Iron Mask continues to occupy the learned in search of\nproblematical questions. M. Marius Topin has come to the conclusion\nthat Lauzun was the man. We believe this theory has already been\nadvocated.\" Now, from the most superficial reading of M. Topin's\nwork, (provided the reader knows a little more French than the\n_Athen\u00e6um_,) it is perfectly clear that, although M. Topin speaks\nof Lauzun as a prisoner at Pignerol, he expressly says that it is\nimpossible to think seriously of him as a candidate for the iron\nmask, for the simple reason that Lauzun was set at liberty some years\nbefore the death of the masked prisoner.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_A Scripture Concordance_, prepared and written by a lawyer, is\nsomething of a novelty in Catholic ecclesiastical literature. And\nthe concordance is not an ordinary one of words and names. It is\nexclusively of texts of Scripture and words relating to our ideas\nand sentiments, our virtues and our vices, our duties to God and our\nneighbor, our obligations to ourselves, thus strikingly demonstrating\nthe grandeur of its precepts, the beauty of its teachings, and\nthe sublimity of its moral. Texts purely doctrinal are rigorously\nexcluded, and but one name is retained--the divine name of the\nSaviour. The book is entitled, _SS. Scriptur\u00e6 Concordanti\u00e6 Nov\u00e6, seu\nDoctrina moralis et dogmatica e sacris Testamentorum Codicibus ordine\nalphabetico desumpta, in qua textus de qualibet materia facilius\npromptiusque quam in aliis concordantiis inveniri possunt, auctore\nCarolo Mazeran, Advocato_. Paris and Brussels. 1869. 8vo.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTwo distinguished Catholic artists have lately died at Rome, Overbeck\nthe painter, and Tenerani the sculptor. Overbeck's graceful and\ninspired religious compositions are too well-known to need comment\nhere. Tenerani was a pupil of Canova and of Thorwaldsen. His \"Descent\nfrom the Cross,\" in the church of St. John Lateran, and his \"Angel of\nthe Last Judgment,\" sculptured on a tomb in the church of St. Mary of\nRome, have been often admired by many American travellers.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_S. Clement of Rome, the two Epistles to the Corinthians._ A revised\nText, with Introduction and Notes, by J. B. Lightfoot, D.D., Hulsean\nProfessor of Divinity and Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge.\nLondon: Macmillan. 1869. 8vo. Professor Lightfoot appears to have\nsuspended the publication of his commentaries on the epistles of St.\nPaul, and to have taken up the apostolic fathers. The first epistle\nof St. Clement, addressed to the Corinthians, is of well-settled\nauthenticity from the testimony of Hermas, Dionysius, Bishop of\nCorinth, Hegesippus, (cited by Eusebius, iv. 22,) and numerous\nothers. Although not classed among the canonical books, this epistle\nhas always been highly prized as what may be called a liturgical\ndocument. St. Jerome bears testimony that it was read publicly in\nthe churches, (_in nonnullis locis publice legitur_.) So also does\nEusebius. Dr. Lightfoot's task is well performed. In his preface\nhe develops the statements above mentioned, enumerates the various\nwritings ascribed to St. Clement of Rome, and in speaking of the\n_recognitiones_, relates the history of the false decretals. In\nthis work, as in many others on very ancient manuscripts, the art\nof topography has been of the greatest service. The codex from\nwhich these two epistles of St. Clement are taken, is the celebrated\none presented by Cyril Lucar to Charles I., and now preserved in\nthe British Museum. The authorities of the museum had it carefully\nphotographed, so that the author could make use of it at his own\npleasure, and at his own house, as, of course, no such manuscript\nwould be allowed to leave the museum even for an hour. A second\nvolume of this work of Professor Lightfoot is promised, which will\ncontain the epistles of St. Ignatius and St. Polycarp.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_A Comparative Grammar of Sanskrit, Greek, and Latin_, by William\nHugh Ferrar, Fellow and Tutor of Trinity College, Dublin. Vol. I.\nLondon: Longman. 1869. 8vo. Studies in philology and comparative\ngrammar appear to be on the increase in Great Britain, and are now\npursued with great industry. Mr. Ferrar freely uses the labors of\nBopp, Schleicher, Corssen, Curtius, and Max M\u00fcller, but by no means\nslavishly. He criticises their various systems with great freedom and\nintelligence, and produces a really meritorious work.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWe remark the publication in Paris of a French translation of the\nfirst volume of the _History of the United Provinces_, by our\ncountryman, John Lothrop Motley, the work to be completed in eight\nvolumes.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWe see announced, and as soon to appear, the first part of a work\nentitled, _Alexandre VI. et les Borgia_. The author is the reverend\nFather Ollivier, of the order of _Fr\u00e9res Pr\u00eacheurs_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_L'Histoire de la Restauration_, vol. vii., is the last work of\nM. Alfred Nettement, a distinguished, conscientious, and talented\njournalist and historian, who lately died in France, regretted and\nhonored by men of all parties. He was sixty-four years of age, and\nhad been an industrious author for forty years. Count Montalembert\ncalled him the type of the journalist and historian, _sans peur et\nsans reproche_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe result of the chronological researches of M. Zumpt concerning\nthe year of the birth of our Saviour (_Das Geburtsjahr Christi.\nGeschichtlich-chronologische Untersuchungen_) is rather severely\ncommented upon by the German critics, notwithstanding his high\nhistorical reputation. They claim that he has not solved the problems\npresented by himself.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nVolume iii. of the series of _Lives of the Archbishops of\nCanterbury_, by Dr. Hook, dean of the cathedral of Chichester,\ncontains a biography of Cardinal Pole. It is said to contain much new\nmaterial on the subject, from the MSS. collections of Simancas and\nthe Record Office.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe readers of Sir Walter Scott are aware that he made frequent use\nof an old poetical history of Robert Bruce. Traces of it are frequent\nin his _Lord of the Isles_, and he gives an analysis of it in his\n_Tales of a Grandfather_. The poem was written in the fifteenth\ncentury by John Barbour, Archdeacon of Aberdeen, and is lately\npublished in Scotland, _The Bruce; or, The Metrical History of Robert\nI., King of Scots_. By Master John Barbour, Archdeacon of Aberdeen.\nPublished from a MS. dated 1489; with notes and a memoir of the life\nof the author. 8vo. Glasgow, 1869.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nA very remarkable work is one lately published at Milan, _Della\nSchiavit\u00f9 e del servaggio e specialmente dei servi agricoltori_.\nMilano. Two vols. in 8vo. It is by the learned Count Cibrario, and\ntreats of slavery from the period of the Romans down to that of the\nrebellion in the United States. His researches among old collections\nof MSS. at Venice and Genoa develop the fact that slaves were held in\nthose cities down to a much later period than is generally supposed.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nGiovanni Michiel was ambassador of Venice at the court of England\nfrom 1554 to 1557, that is to say, during the reign of Mary. His\ndispatches were written in cipher, and during all these years it has\nbeen impossible to copy or use them for want of a key to the cipher.\nM. Pasini, an employee in the Venetian archives, has long been\nengaged on a complete history of the different ciphers used by the\nVenetian ambassadors, and has succeeded in deciphering the letters of\nMichiel, which he has lately had published, _I dispacci di Giovanni\nMichiel, Ambasciator Veneto in Inghilterra_. Venezia, 1869.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nHere is a work of remarkable erudition, and unusual interest for\nthe classical scholar: _Notices sur Rome. Les Noms Romains et les\nDignit\u00e9s mentionn\u00e9es dans les L\u00e9gendes des Monnai\u00e9s Imp\u00e9riales\nRomaines_. Par L'Abb\u00e9 I. Marchant. Paris, 1869. Imperial 8vo. It is a\nlearned dissertation upon the origin and signification of the titles,\ndignities, and offices mentioned in inscriptions on imperial Roman\ncoins, the names, surnames, filiation, adoption, and dignities of\nemperor, C\u00e6sar, Augustus, censor, pontiff, grand pontiff, princeps\njuventutis, proconsul, etc., etc.; the surnames taken from vanquished\nnations, _Britannicus_, _Germanicus_, _Dacicus_, _Pannonicus_,\n_Parthicus_, _Sarmaticus_; titles seldom merited, and grossly\nexaggerated, bestowed upon emperors by the servile flattery of senate\nor people, such as _Pater Patri\u00e6_, _Dominus Noster_, _Senior_,\n_Pius_, _Felix_, _Felicissimus_, _Beatissimus_, _Nobilissimus_,\n_Optimus_, _Maximus_, _Deus_, _Divus_, _\u00c6ternus_, _Invictus_,\n_Triumphator Gentium_, _Barbararum_, etc. For empresses, _Augusta_,\n_Diva_, _Felix_, _Nobilissima_, _F\u0153mina_, _Mater Castrarum_,\n_Mater Augustorum_, etc., etc. Then follow the subordinate titles\nof _Questor_, _Triumvir_, _Prefect_, etc., etc. The work is by no\nmeans one of dry nomenclature, and the author, by his fulness of\nillustration and attractive style, has produced an admirable work.\n\n\n\n\nNEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n\n    CONVERSATIONS ON LIBERALISM AND THE CHURCH. By O. A. Brownson,\n    LL.D. New York: D. & J. Sadlier & Co.\n\nThis is the first production of the pen of Dr. Brownson which has\nappeared under his own name for several years. During this time he\nhas been a constant contributor to this magazine, and has furnished\na considerable number of valuable articles to other periodicals,\nparticularly the _Tablet_, of which he has for some time past had\nthe principal editorial charge. Those who are familiar with the\nleonine style of the great publicist cannot have failed to recognize\nit even in his anonymous productions, or to admit, whether with\ngood or with ill grace, that he still remains _facile princeps_\nin that high domain which he has chosen for himself. We welcome\nthe venerable author most heartily on his reappearance upon the\nfield of intellectual combat with his visor up, and his own avowed\nrecognizance upon his shield. He appears as the champion of the\nencyclical of Pius IX. against that conglomeration of absurd and\ndestructive errors which its advocates have decorated with the name\nof liberalism, and as the defender of the true, genuine principles\nof liberty--that liberty which Catholic training and Christian\ncivilization prepare the greatest possible number of men to enjoy,\nto the greatest possible extent, with the least possible danger to\nthemselves and society.\n\nThe volume is small in size, but weighty and precious in matter,\nlike a lump of gold. There is enough precious metal in it to keep an\nordinary review-writer a-going for three years. The wretched, flimsy\nsophistries and falsehoods with which we are bored to death every day\nby the writers for the daily papers, screaming like macaws the few\nchanges of their scanty vocabulary, Railroads, railroads! progress,\nprogress! medi\u00e6val fossil! nineteenth century! are all summed up by\nDr. Brownson in a few sentences much better than one of themselves\ncan do it. These expressions of the maxims of our _soi-disant_\nliberal editors are put into the mouth of an imaginary representative\nof the class, who is supposed to be conversing with a Catholic\npriest at an unfashionable watering-place. The author, by the mouth\nof the priest, answers him fully, and makes an exposition of his\nown views and opinions. The editor has nothing to say in rejoinder,\nexcept to repeat over his tiresome, oft-refuted platitudes, ignoring\nall his antagonist has alleged and proved against him. Perhaps it\nwill be said that the doctor has purposely put a weak defence into\nthe editor's mouth. Not at all. It is no sport to such an expert\nswordsman to run a tilt against any but an expert and doughty\nantagonist. Give him his choice, and he would prefer to contend with\none who would make the best possible fight for liberalism. In this\ncase, as the doctor has been obliged to play both sides of the game,\none hand against the other, he has carefully avoided the common\nfault of collusion between the right and left hand. He has made his\nimaginary editor say all that the real editors can say, and in better\nfashion than they can say it. Any person who has taken the trouble\nto read the comments of the writers for the press on the massive\narguments of Dr. Brownson's articles, or their other lucubrations\non the subjects treated in this book, will perceive that its author\nhas not diluted them at all, but has rather infused some of his own\nstrong tea into their tepid dish-water.\n\nThe errors of the liberalists have been to a certain extent already\ndiscussed in our pages, and will be probably discussed more fully and\nto greater advantage after the decrees of the Council of the Vatican\nare published.\n\nWe therefore confine ourselves at present to a particular notice\nof one point only in Dr. Brownson's argument, to which we desire\nto call special attention. We allude to his exposition of his\nviews in regard to the relation of the Catholic religion to the\nprinciples of the American constitution. Dr. Brownson is a thorough\nCatholic and a thorough American. As a Catholic, he condemns all\nthe errors condemned by the syllabus of Pius IX. As an American,\nhe accepts all the principles of the constitution of the United\nStates. As a philosopher, he reconciles and harmonizes the two\ndocuments of the ecclesiastical and political sovereignties to\nwhich he owes allegiance. If he were wavering or dubious in obeying\nthe instructions of the encyclical, his exposition of the relation\nbetween Catholic and American principles would have no weight\nwhatever; for it would be merely an exposition of his own private\nversion of Catholicity and not of the authorized version. If he were\nnot thoroughly American, his exposition of the Catholic's ideal\nconception of the relations of the church and civil society might\nbe very perfect, but it would rather confirm than shake the common\npersuasion that there is a contrariety between the principles of our\npolitical order and those of the Catholic Church. If he were not a\nphilosopher, he might present both his religious and his political\ndoctrines, separately, in such a way as to satisfy the claims both\nof orthodoxy and of patriotism; but he would not be able to show how\nthese two hemispheres can be joined together in a complete whole.\nIt is one of his greatest merits that he is perpetually aiming at\nthe construction of these synthetic harmonies of what we may call,\nfor the sake of the figure, the different gospels of truth, and is\nperpetually approximating nearer and nearer to that success which\nperhaps cannot be fully achieved by any human intellect. We think he\nhas substantially succeeded in the task undertaken in the present\nvolume, and we commend it to the perusal of all Americans, whether\nCatholics or non-Catholics, in the hope that it may strengthen both\nin the determination to do no injustice to each other, and to remain\nalways faithful to the allegiance we owe to the American republic. We\nrecommend it also to Dr. Brownson's numerous admirers and friends in\nEurope as a valuable aid to the understanding of what are commonly\ncalled American principles.\n\nSo far as the exterior is concerned, this is one of the very finest\nbooks which the Sadliers have yet published.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    THE END OF THE WORLD, AND THE DAY OF JUDGMENT. Two Discourses\n    preached to the Music Hall Society, by their minister, the\n    Rev. William Rounseville Alger. Published by request. Boston:\n    Roberts Brothers.\n\nConsidering what are the contents of these \"discourses,\" for which,\nnaturally, the preacher failed to find any text, their title seems\nlike a dismal jest. There is nothing, however, too absurd for the\nMusic Hall of Boston, not even the amalgamation of puritanism and\npantheism. We have two palmary objections to the argument of these\ndiscourses, which is, of course, intended to disprove the Christian\ndoctrine respecting the last judgment and the end of the world. The\nfirst is, the boundless credulity which underlies the whole series\nof assumptions on which it is founded; the second is, its total\nwant of scientific method and accuracy. Mr. Alger has an extensive\nknowledge of certain departments of literature, a vivid imagination,\na certain nobleness of sentiment, and a considerable power of graphic\ndelineation and combination of his intellectual conceptions; but no\nlogic or philosophy, very little discriminative or analytic skill,\nand nothing of the judicial faculty. Wherever his imagination leads,\nhis intellect follows, and willingly lends itself to clothe all the\nvisions which are met with on the aerial journey with the garb of\nreal and rational discoveries. Therefore, we say that his argument\nin these discourses rests on credulity, a basis of vapor, like that\nwhich supports a castle in the clouds. We proceed to give some\ninstances. Mr. Alger has fashioned to himself a conception of what\nour Lord Jesus Christ ought to have been, and ought to have said and\ndone. Throughout these discourses, and his other works, he explains\nevery thing recorded of the sayings and doings of our divine Lord in\nthe New Testament according to this _\u00e0 priori_ conception of his own,\nwithout regard to common sense or sound criticism. This is credulity,\nand nothing more. As well might we say, Mr. Alger is a man of sense\nand honesty, and therefore he can never have meant any of the absurd\nthings he seems to say against the Catholic doctrine. Another\nextraordinary instance of credulity is the theory of accounting for\nthe similarity to the principal Catholic dogmas which is seen in the\nreligious beliefs of heathen nations. It is a fanciful conjecture,\nand, as a philosophical theory, untenable, that the same myths had\nan independent origin and development among distinct races. There\nmust have been a common cause and origin of religious traditions, as\nwell as of languages. Another instance of credulity is found in the\nfollowing passage: \"It is confidently believed that within twenty\nyears the views adopted in the present writing will be established\nbeyond all cavil from any fair-minded critic.\" Here is a heavy strain\nindeed on our faith, worse than that which Moses makes upon poor\nColenso! Worse than all is the following, which we will not credit\nto the author's credulity any further than he himself warrants us\nin doing by his own language, which we will quote entire, that the\nreader may judge for himself of the extent to which it shows in the\nauthor a _penchant_ for the marvellous, provided that the marvellous\nis in no way connected with revelation. \"A brilliant French writer\nhas suggested that even if the natural course of evolution does\nof itself necessitate the final destruction of the world, yet our\nrace, judging from the magnificent achievements of science and art\nalready reached, may, within ten thousand centuries, which will be\nlong before the foreseen end approaches, obtain such a knowledge\nand control of the forces of nature as to make collective humanity\nmaster of this planet, able to shape and guide its destinies, ward\noff every fatal crisis, and perfect and immortalize the system as now\nsustained. It is an audacious fancy. But, like many other incredible\nconceptions which have forerun their own still more incredible\nfulfilment, the very thought electrifies us with hope and courage.\"\n(P. 18.)\n\nThis is indeed brilliant! It surpasses the famous moon-hoax of Mr.\nLocke, and the balloon-voyages of that wild genius Edgar A. Poe, from\nwhom we have some recent and interesting intelligence, contained in\na volume which we recommend to the congregation of Music Hall; the\nvolume being entitled _Strange Visitors, by a Clairvoyant_. In those\ndays, probably, our Congress will have a committee on comets, and\nmake appropriations for a railroad to the Dog-star.\n\nThe second objection to Mr. Alger's argument runs partly into the\nfirst. It is, we have said, totally wanting in scientific method and\naccuracy. This is true of the entire process by which the thesis\nof the discourses is sustained. This thesis is, that the present\nconstitution of the world and the human race will endure for ever,\nor at least for an indefinitely long period. If there were no light\nto be had on this point except the light of nature, the opinion\nmaintained by the author would be at best only a conjecture. It could\nnot be made even solidly probable, unless some rational theory were\nfirst established concerning the ultimate destiny of the human race,\nand the end for which the present miserably imperfect constitution of\nthe world had been decreed by the Creator, and the perpetuity of the\nexisting order on the earth were shown to have a reason in this final\ncause of man's creation. The author has not done this, and we do not\nbelieve that it is possible to do it, even prescinding all question\nof revelation. Even on scientific grounds--that is, reasoning\nfrom all the analogies known to us, and from purely rational and\nphilosophical data--it is far more probable and reasonable to suppose\nthat the present state of the world is merely preparatory to a far\nhigher and more perfect state, and will be swept away to make place\nfor it. But when we consider the universality and antiquity of this\nlatter belief, and the solid mountain of historical, miraculous, and\nmoral evidence on which rests the demonstration that this belief\nproceeds from a divine revelation, it is the most unscientific\nmethod that can be conceived to ignore it, or leap over it by the\naid of fanciful hypotheses, as Mr. Alger does. The manner in which\nthe Catholic doctrine is distorted and misrepresented, in extremely\nbad rhetoric, is also unscientific. Nearly all the pith of this\nso-called argument consists in a violent invective against the\nnotion of a partial, unjust, vindictive Divinity, who rewards and\npunishes like an ambitious tyrant, without regard to necessary and\neternal principles of truth, right, and moral laws. So far as this\ninvective is directed against Calvinism, considered in its logical\nentity, and apart from the correctives of common sense and sound\nmoral sentiment which practically modify it, we give the author the\nright of the case. But it is palpably false, as the author has had\nample opportunity of knowing, as respects the Catholic doctrine. He\nis unscientific, moreover, in confusing the substance of the doctrine\nthat the generation of the human race will cease, all mankind be\nraised from the dead in their bodies immortal, the ways of God to\nman be openly vindicated before the universe, and each one assigned\nto an immutable state according to his deserts or fitness, this\nvisible earth also undergoing a corresponding change of condition;\nwith the scenic act of proclaiming judgment and inaugurating the\nnew, everlasting order, which is commonly believed in, according to\nthe literal sense of the New Testament. If Mr. Alger can show good\nreasons for substituting a figurative, metaphorical interpretation of\nthe passages depicting this last grand scene in the drama of human\nhistory for the literal sense, he is welcome to do it; but he has not\ntouched the substance of the Catholic dogma which he gratuitously\ndenies. Mr. Alger tells us, (p. 46,) \"Loyalty to truth is the first\nduty of every man.\" It is also one in which he himself signally\nfails, by a persistent misrepresentation of Catholic doctrines, by\ndisregarding the evidence which has been clearly set before him\nof their truth, subjecting his intellect to his imagination, and\npreaching as \"truth\" opinions which he cannot possibly prove, in the\nteeth of arguments which he cannot possibly refute. One who wilfully\nsins against \"the first duty of man,\" by rejecting the faith and law\nof his Sovereign Creator when sufficiently proposed to him, must\nsurely be condemned by divine justice; and it is only such who, the\nCatholic Church teaches, will be condemned for infidelity or heresy\nat the tribunal of Christ. \"The judgment of God,\" says the author,\n\"is the return of the laws of being on all deeds, actual or ideal.\"\n(P. 66.) God, therefore, will judge all men by acting toward them\nthroughout eternity in accordance with that revealed law which is\nthe transcript of his own immutable nature, and which assures us\nthat beatitude is gained or lost by the acts which every responsible\ncreature performs during the time of probation, and that every merit\nor demerit has its appropriate retribution in another life. Perhaps\nthe most foolish thing in these discourses is the gleeful assurance\nto the congregation of Music Hall that the world will not come to\nan end because it has gone on so long already, although many people\nexpected the end before this. A great pope has already cautioned us\nagainst this error, in an encyclical of the first century, beginning\n_Simon Petrus, Servus et Apostolus Jesu Christi_. \"In the last days\nthere shall come scoffers with deceit, walking according to their\nown lusts, saying, Where is his promise, or his coming? For since\nthe fathers slept, all things continue so from the beginning of the\ncreation,\" (2 Pet. iii.)\n\nThe good people of the Boston Music Hall who requested the\npublication of these discourses, no doubt because they were so much\ndelighted to think that the world may stand for ever, have been a\nlittle premature in their exultation. The publication of Mr. Alger's\nmanifesto against St. Peter only gives another proof that the first\nof the popes was also a prophet. Who is more likely to be infallible,\nMr. Alger or St. Peter?\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    LIFE DUTIES. By E. E. Marcy, A.M., M.D. New York: D. & J.\n    Sadlier & Co. 1870.\n\nThis book contains many good things, and is written in a very\npleasing, literary style. The portions of it which treat of moral\nand religious duties are likely to be useful to a certain class of\npersons who seldom or never read a book containing so much sound\ndoctrine and wholesome advice. The author, no doubt, wrote with a\ngood intention, and endeavored to teach what he sincerely thinks to\nbe Catholic doctrine, and, of course, the publishers have issued\nthe book in good faith, without any suspicion that it contains any\nthing erroneous. The author has, however, made a great mistake in\nsupposing that he is sufficiently learned in theology to be able\nto distinguish, in all cases, sound Catholic doctrine, from his\nown imperfect, and frequently incorrect, opinions, or that he is\nauthorized to teach the faithful in doctrinal and spiritual matters,\nwithout first submitting his book to revision by a competent\nauthority. He has, in consequence, made some very grave mistakes in\ndoctrine, or at least in his manner of expressing himself on matters\nof doctrine, and also said a number of things which are very rash\nand unsuitable in a Catholic writer. On page 13 he says, \"It is\ndoubtful whether any human being has ever passed through a life of\nordinary duration without an occasional violation of them\"--that\nis, of the commandments of God. If this refers to grievous sins,\nit is contrary to the universal sentiment of Catholics, that very\nmany persons have passed through even a long life without committing\nany grievous sin; if it refers to venial sin, it is false, at\nleast as respects the blessed Virgin Mary, who was wholly sinless.\nThe phraseology employed respecting the sacraments of penance and\nextreme unction is altogether deficient, diverse from that which\nis sanctioned by ecclesiastical usage, and suggestive of errors.\nThe sacrament of penance is called, \"repentance, acknowledgment,\nreformation,\" without express mention of sacramental absolution, and\nextreme unction is designated as \"prayer for the sick,\" whereas\nthe holy oil is the matter of the sacrament which was prescribed by\nthe command of Jesus Christ. The fathers, doctors, and scholastic\ntheologians, and the methods of scholastic theology, are criticised\nwith an air of superior wisdom unbefitting any Catholic writer,\nbut especially a tyro in theological science. After saying that\nthe disbelief of the real presence is partly due to the neglect of\nreligious teachers \"to make such clear and just explanations as\nthe Holy Scriptures authorize them to make,\" (p. 250,) the author\nundertakes to correct the method of St. Thomas, Suarez, Bellarmine,\nand the other theologians who have hitherto been considered as our\nmasters and teachers, to supply for their defects, and to explain the\nmystery of transubstantiation in such a clear manner as to remove\nall difficulty out of the way of believing it. The good doctor\nhas unfortunately, however, proposed a theory which subverts the\nCatholic doctrine of the incarnation, and that of the resurrection\nof the body. So far as we can understand his meaning, he holds\nthat the spiritual or glorified body is the same thing with the\nspirit or soul. In other words, the spirit or soul is an ethereal\nsubstance which is called spirit, inasmuch as it is intelligent;\nand body, inasmuch as it is visible and subsisting under a certain\nconfiguration. This is the doctrine of the spiritists, and not that\nof the Catholic Church. The Catholic doctrine is, that soul and body\nare distinct, diverse substances; that the souls of the departed are\nexisting now in a separate state, and that they will receive again\ntheir bodies at the resurrection. The author of course explains the\nresurrection and present state of our Lord in harmony with this\nnotion; but in contradiction to the Catholic doctrine that our Lord\nraised up, glorified, and elevated to heaven that same flesh and\nblood which he took of the Virgin in the incarnation. He moreover\nconfuses the human with the divine nature of Christ, by affirming,\nwith the Lutherans, the ubiquity of the sacred humanity of Christ,\nwhom he calls the \"spirit Christ,\" and affirms to be everywhere by\nvirtue of his divine omnipresence. This again is erroneous doctrine.\nThe way is prepared by these statements for an explanation of the\npresence of Christ in the eucharist, and transubstantiation. It is\nnot difficult to believe that God annihilates the bread and wine,\nbut still causes a miraculous appearance to make the same impression\non our senses which the bread and wine made before the consecration.\nChrist, being everywhere present, imparts the special effects of his\ngrace at the time of consecration and communion. The only trouble\nin the matter is, that the theory is not true or orthodox. The body\nand blood of Christ are made present under the sacred species by the\nforce of the consecrating words, _not_ his soul or divinity. The\nsoul and divinity of our blessed Lord are present by concomitance;\nbut transubstantiation is the change of the substance of the bread\ninto the body, and of the wine into the blood of Christ, and here is\nthe chief mystery of the dogma which the author, in endeavoring to\nexplain, has explained away. It is possible that the author's sense\nis more orthodox than his language, and no doubt his intention is\nmore orthodox than either. His language, however, bears on the face\nof it the appearance of a sense which is, in itself, contrary in some\npoints to definitions of faith, and in others to the common doctrine\nof theologians.\n\nIt is very necessary that all Catholics should understand that they\nare not at liberty to interpret either the scripture, tradition, or\nthe definitions of councils in contradiction to the Catholic sense\nand acceptation made known by the living voice of the pastors and\nteachers who are authorized by the church. Those who desire to feed\non the pure milk of sound doctrine will find their best security\nagainst error in selecting for their theological or spiritual reading\nthose books which they are well assured have the sanction and\napprobation of their pastors.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    THE VISIBLE UNITY OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH MAINTAINED AGAINST\n    OPPOSITE THEORIES. With an explanation of certain passages\n    in Ecclesiastical History erroneously appealed to in their\n    support. By M. J. Rhodes, Esq., M.A. Dedicated by permission\n    to the Right Rev. William Delany, D.D., Lord Bishop of\n    Cork. London: Longmans, Green & Co. New York: The Catholic\n    Publication Society.\n\nThe superb exterior of this book, published in the best English\nstyle, leads the reader to expect something unusually excellent in\nthe contents. Nor will he be disappointed. This work is no mere\nrepetition of other books. It is learned, original, carefully\nprepared, well written, and has undergone an examination by competent\ntheologians, not only in England, but also at Rome. The genuine\ndoctrine of Catholic unity, as opposed to the pseudo-catholicity of\nAnglicans, is exposed in it, with a refutation of the objections of\nBishop Forbes, Dr. Pusey, and others. The questions of the Easter\ncontroversy, the dispute between St. Cyprian and Pope St. Stephen,\nthe dispute between Paulinus and St. Meletius of Antioch, the Celtic\ncontroversies, etc., are fully discussed. The only criticism we have\nto make is concerning the manner of treating the question of the\ndivided obediences at the epoch between the pontificate of Urban VI.\nand that of Martin V. The author thinks that the adherents of Peter\nde Luna, called Benedict XIII., were really in schism, although\nmost of them were innocent of any sin. We think otherwise, and our\nopinion has been derived from the most approved Catholic authors.\nWithout doubt, the authors of the division were formal schismatics.\nYet they were able to make out such a plausible case against Urban\nand in favor of Benedict, that for the time being Urban's right was\ndoubtful in a large portion of Christendom. Those who refused to\nrecognize him were not therefore guilty of rebellion against the\nRoman pontiff as such, any more than those would be who should refuse\nto obey a papal rescript of doubtful authenticity. After the election\nof Alexander V. there was much greater reason to doubt which of the\nthree rival claimants, Gregory XII., Benedict XIII., or Alexander V.,\nwas the true pope. It is now perfectly certain that Gregory XII. was\ncanonically elected, and we suppose it is by far the more probable\nopinion that he remained in possession of his right as legitimate\npope until his voluntary resignation at the Council of Constance.\nNevertheless, his claim, at the time, was a doubtful one, and the\nmajority of the cardinals and bishops adhered, after the Council of\nPisa, to Alexander V. and his successor John XXIII. Peter de Luna was\na schismatic in the fullest extent of the word. But what shall we\nsay of Alexander and John? Their names still appear on the lists of\npopes, and some maintain that they were true popes. They undoubtedly\nbelieved that a council could depose doubtful popes, and that\ntherefore the Council of Pisa could deprive both Gregory and Benedict\nof whatever claim either of them might have to the papal throne.\nThey believed themselves lawfully elected, and were not, therefore,\nschismatics, even though they were not lawful popes. If the author\nmaintains that two of the three obediences which eventually concurred\nat Constance in the election of Martin V. were in a state of schism\nuntil that time, we cannot agree with him, and we think we have\nthe best authorities on our side. For, if these obediences were in\nschism, they were no part of the true church, the jurisdiction of\ntheir bishops and priests was forfeited, and the Catholic Church\nwas limited to the obedience of the legitimate pontiff. This theory\nwould involve the author in considerable difficulties, and we wonder\nthat it was allowed to escape the notice of his Roman examiners. The\ncase is very plain, to our thinking. Neither of these three parties\nrebelled against the Roman see, or refused to obey the laws of any\npontiff whose legitimacy was unquestionable. It was a dispute about\nthe succession, not a revolt against the principle of authority.\nThere was, therefore, no schism in the case; all were equally members\nof the Catholic Church, and jurisdiction remained in the bishops\nof all the contending parties. Those who wilfully promoted this\ndissension were grievously culpable, but the rest were free from sin,\nas long as they acted in good faith. The author devotes only a short\nspace to this question, and with this exception his work is most\nadmirable, and worthy of a most extensive circulation.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    THE EVIDENCE FOR THE PAPACY. By the Hon. Colin Lindsay. London:\n    Longmans & Co. For sale by the Catholic Publication Society,\n    New York.\n\nMr. Lindsay was president of the Anglican Union when, after long\nstudy, he submitted to the authority of the holy Roman Church. His\nconversion made a great sensation, and called out the usual amount of\nfoolish, ill-natured twaddle. In this volume he has given a masterly,\nlawyer-like, and extensive summary, richly furnished with evidences\nand authorities, of the scriptural and historical argument for the\nsupremacy of St. Peter and his successors. We welcome and recommend\nthis admirable work most cordially. The author is a convert of the\nold stamp of Newman, Wilberforce, Oakeley, Faber, and Manning; that\nis, a convert to genuine and thorough-going Catholicity; and not one\nof those who has been spoiled by the fatal influence of Munich. The\nspurious coin which dealers in counterfeit Catholicism are seeking\njust now to palm off on the unwary is distinguished from the genuine\nby its faint delineation of the pope's effigy on its surface. A\nprimacy in the universal church similar to that of a metropolitan\nin a province is all they will admit the pope to possess _jure\ndivino_. The true Catholicity brings out the divine supremacy of\nthe successor of St. Peter into bold relief. This is just now the\ngreat question, the criterion of orthodox belief, the touchstone of\nfaith, the one great fact and doctrine to be insisted on against\nevery form of anti-Catholic error, from that of the Greeks to that\nof the atheists. The pope is the visible representative of Christ on\nthe earth, of God's law, of revealed religion, of the supernatural,\nand of moral and political order. The one question of his supremacy\nin the true and full sense of the word being settled, every thing\nelse follows as a necessary consequence, and is established. It is\nvery important, therefore, that books should be multiplied on this\ntopic, and that the utmost pains should be taken by the clergy to\nindoctrinate the people and instruct fully converts concerning that\nloyal allegiance and unreserved obedience which all Catholics owe to\nthe vicar of Christ. This book will be found to be one of the best.\nWe have received also from London a very clever critique on \"Janus,\"\nby F. Keogh, of the Oratory, and are glad to see that the learned Dr.\nHergenr\u00f6ther, of W\u00fcrzburg, is preparing an elaborate refutation of\nthat mischievous production. The second part of F. Bottalla's work on\nthe papacy is also announced as soon to appear.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    GEOLOGY AND REVELATION; OR, THE ANCIENT HISTORY OF THE EARTH,\n    CONSIDERED IN THE LIGHT OF GEOLOGICAL FACTS AND REVEALED\n    RELIGION. By the Rev. Gerald Molloy, D.D., Professor of\n    Theology in the Royal College of St. Patrick, Maynooth. London:\n    Longmans, Green, Reader & Dyer. 1870. For sale by the Catholic\n    Publication Society, New York.\n\nThe author discusses in this volume two interpretations of the Mosaic\naccount of creation: 1st, that a long interval may have elapsed\nbetween the creation and the work of the six days; 2d, that the six\ndays themselves may be long periods of time; and shows that they\nare both admissible, and that the last corresponds pretty well with\nthe present state of geological science. In a subsequent work, he\nproposes to discuss the question of the antiquity of man.\n\nThough he does not claim to have written a manual of geology, the\nfirst and larger part of the work is in fact an excellent compendium\nof the science, and is written in a remarkably interesting and\nreadable style. A few such books would do much to remove the\ndislike and distrust of geology which still prevails to some extent\namong religious people, and perhaps also to convince scientific\nunbelievers.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    REPORTS ON OBSERVATIONS OF THE TOTAL ECLIPSE OF THE SUN,\n    Aug. 7, 1869. Conducted under the direction of Commodore B.\n    F. Sands, U.S.N., Superintendent of the United States Naval\n    Observatory, Washington, D.C. Washington: Government Printing\n    Office. 1869.\n\nThis volume contains the reports of the parties sent from the\nNaval Observatory to Des Moines, Iowa, Plover Bay, Siberia, and\nBristol, Tennessee; as well as those of Mr. W. S. Gilman, Jr., and\nGeneral Albert J. Myer, at St. Paul Junction, Iowa, and Abingdon,\nVa., respectively, who also communicated their observations to the\nsuperintendent. The latter saw the eclipse from the top of White Top\nMountain, 5530 feet high; the effect was, of course, magnificent.\nThe papers of Professor Harkness on the spectrum, and of Dr. Curtis\non the photographs which they obtained at Des Moines, are specially\ninteresting. One hundred and twenty-two photographs were taken in\nall, two during the totality, fac-similes of which last are appended,\ntogether with other representations of the total phase, and copies of\nthe spectra observed, etc. Professor Harkness observed what appears\nto be a very decided iron line in the spectrum of the corona, which\nwas otherwise continuous, and he considers it quite probable that\nthis mysterious halo is to a great extent or even perhaps principally\ncomposed of the vapor of this metal. He saw magnesium and hydrogen in\nthe prominences, and the unknown substance which has been elsewhere\nobserved.\n\nProfessor Hall, who went to Siberia, was unfortunate, the\nweather being cloudy during the eclipse, though clear before and\nafterward; but he made what observations were practicable under the\ncircumstances.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    A TEXT-BOOK OF PRACTICAL MEDICINE. By Dr. Felix Von Niemeyer,\n    Professor of Pathology and Therapeutics; Director of the\n    Medical Clinic of the University of T\u00fcbingen. Translated from\n    the seventh German edition, by special permission of the\n    author, by George H. Humphreys, M.D., and Charles E. Hackley,\n    M.D. In two volumes octavo, 1500 pp. New York: D. Appleton & Co.\n\nThese books place at once before the American practitioner the most\nadvanced scientific knowledge on the general practice of medicine\npossessed by the German school, of which Professor Niemeyer is\nconsidered, and justly, one of the most erudite and brilliant\nornaments.\n\nEach subject treated shows the profound and masterly manner in which\nits details have been garnered by him from the only reliable source\nof such knowledge, the hospital clinic.\n\nThe rapidity with which it has passed through seven German editions,\nthe last two of triple size, and the fact that it has been translated\ninto most of the principal languages of the old continent, afford\nample proof of its appreciation in Europe.\n\nThe medical student is here presented with a solid, comprehensive,\nand scientific foundation upon which to rear his future\nsuperstructure of learning, while the over-worked practitioner will\nfind a never-failing source of gratification in the work for casual\nreference and study.\n\nNothing can so much advance truly Catholic science and literature\nas the free interchange of national ideas and opinions, expressed\nthrough the master minds of the various professions and pursuits.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    LIFE PICTURES OF THE PASSION OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST.\n    Translated from the German of Rev. Dr. John Emmanuel Veith,\n    formerly Preacher of St. Stephen's Cathedral, Vienna. By Rev.\n    Theodore Noethen, Pastor of the Church of the Holy Cross,\n    Albany, N. Y. Boston: P. Donahoe.\n\nThe various personages connected with the sufferings and death\nof our Saviour--Judas Iscariot, Caiaphas, Malchus, Simon Peter,\netc.--receive each a chapter in this book, in which their characters\nare portrayed with appropriate reflections and illustrations drawn\nfrom history, religious and secular.\n\nThe author is one of the most distinguished preachers in Europe.\nThe translator is a clergyman well and favorably known for the many\nexcellent translations of German religious books which he has given\nto the American public.\n\n_Life Pictures_ will be found very suitable reading for this season\nof the year.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    HEALTH BY GOOD LIVING. By W. W. Hall, M.D. New York: Hurd &\n    Houghton. 1870. Pp. 277.\n\nThis work is intended to show that good health can be maintained,\nand many diseases prevented, by proper care in eating. The doctor\ndoes not use the phrase \"good living\" in its ordinary meaning; he\ndefines it to be a good appetite followed by good digestion. His\nrules for obtaining this two-fold blessing are generally sensible;\nbut a few of his statements are somewhat exaggerated. We have no\ndoubt that the health of the community would be improved by following\nthe common-sense directions of Dr. Hall; but unfortunately, as the\ndoctor himself remarks, not one person in a thousand of his readers\nwill have sufficient control over his appetite to carry out these\nsuggestions, which require so much self-denial. We are glad to see\nthe doctor recommends a strict observance of Lent.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    A GENERAL HISTORY OF MODERN EUROPE, FROM THE BEGINNING OF THE\n    SIXTEENTH CENTURY TO THE COUNCIL OF THE VATICAN. Third edition,\n    revised and corrected. By John G. Shea. New York: T. W. Strong,\n    (late Edward Dunigan & Brother.)\n\nThe merit of this history as a text-book has been long and widely\nrecognized. The correction, revision, and addenda do not call for any\nspecial notice.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    THE FERRYMAN OF THE TIBER. An Historical Tale. Translated from\n    the Italian of Madame A. K. De La Grange. New York: P. O'Shea,\n    27 Barclay street. 1870.\n\nThis is a beautiful story of the early days of the church, when the\neffeminacy and luxury of the pagans made the noble virtues of the\nChristians shine with the greater splendor; when St. Jerome lived in\nRome, and the Roman matrons and virgins, following his instructions,\ngave to the world such beautiful examples of virtue, and to the\nchurch so many saints. It is a book that should be read now; for\nthough we do not live in a pagan age, we surely are not living in an\nage of faith; and the example of a Jerome, a Melania, and a Valeria\nare as necessary as when the light of Christianity had but just begun\nto shine upon the world.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    THE GRAMMAR OF ASSENT. By John Henry Newman, D.D.\n\nThis is a treatise on the _science_, not the _art_ of logic, with\napplication to religious belief and faith in the divine revelation.\nWe have only had time to glance at its contents, and must, therefore,\npostpone any critical judgment upon them. What we have seen in\nlooking over the leaves of the advanced sheets sent us by the\nkindness of the author is enough, however, to show that in this book\nDr. Newman has put thought and language under a condenser which has\ncompressed a folio of sense into a duodecimo of size.\n\nThe Catholic Publication Society will issue the work in a few weeks.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    THE EARTHLY PARADISE. A Poem by William Morris. Part III.\n    Boston: Roberts Brothers. Printed at the Cambridge University\n    Press.\n\nAn extremely beautiful book, which it is a luxury to handle and\nlook at. Every body knows, long before now, that Mr. Morris is a\ntrue poet, and there is no need of our saying what will be no news\nto any one who loves poetry. We will only say, therefore, that we\nlike Mr. Morris, because he is antique, classical, and pure, and\nit is refreshing to get away from the dusty, hot highway of recent\nliterature into his pages.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    THE DOUBLE SACRIFICE; OR, THE PONTIFICAL ZOUAVES. A Tale of\n    Castelfidardo. Translated from the Flemish of the Rev. S.\n    Daems. Baltimore: Kelly, Piet & Co. Pp. 242.\n\nA well-deserved tribute to those gallant youths who cheerfully\noffered up their all, home, friends, life itself, for Peter's chair,\nand in defence of holy church. As a story it has no particular merit.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nBOOKS RECEIVED.\n\n    From SCRIBNER, WELFORD & CO., New York: Sermons bearing on the\n    Subjects of the Day. By John Henry Newman, B.D. New edition.\n    Rivingtons: London, Oxford, and Cambridge. 1869.\n\n    From ROBERTS BROTHERS, Boston: A Day by the Fire; and other\n    papers hitherto uncollected. By Leigh Hunt. 1870.\n\n    From CARLETON, New York: Strange Visitors.\n\n    From P. FOX, Publisher, 14 South Fifth street, St. Louis:\n    Letters on Public Schools, with special reference to the system\n    as conducted in St. Louis. By the Hon. Charles R. Smythe. 1870.\n\n    From the University, Ann Arbor: Report on a Department of\n    Hygiene and Physical Culture in the University of Michigan, by\n    a Committee of the University Senate. 1870.\n\n    From MURPHY & CO., Baltimore: General Catechism of the\n    Christian Doctrine; for the Use of the Catholics of the Diocese\n    of Savannah and Vicariate Apostolic of Florida. 1869.--Peabody\n    Memorial. January, 1870.\n\n    From JAMES MILLER, 647 Broadway, New York: History of American\n    Socialisms. By John Humphrey Noyes.\n\n\n\n\nTHE\n\nCATHOLIC WORLD.\n\nVOL. XI., No. 62.--MAY, 1870.\n\n\nCHURCH AND STATE.[21]\n\n\nIl Signor Cant\u00f9 is one of the ablest men and most distinguished\ncontemporary authors of Italy. He is a layman, and has usually been\nreckoned among the better class of so-called liberal Catholics, and\ncertainly is a warm friend of liberty, civil and religious, a sincere\nand earnest Italian patriot, thoroughly devoted to the holy see, and\na firm and fearless defender of the rights, freedom, independence,\nand authority of the spiritual order in its relation to the temporal.\n\nWe know not where to look for a truer, fuller, more loyal, or more\njudicious treatment in so brief a compass of the great and absorbing\nquestion in regard to the relation of church and state, than in his\narticle from the _Rivista Universale_, the title of which we give at\nthe foot of the page. He is an erudite rather than a philosopher,\na historian rather than a theologian; yet his article is equally\nremarkable for its learning, its history, its philosophy, its\ntheology, and its canon law, and, with slight reservation, as to\nhis interpretation of the bull _Unam Sanctam_ of Boniface VIII. and\nsome views hinted rather than expressed as to the origin and nature\nof the _magisterium_ exercised by the popes over sovereigns in the\nmiddle ages, we believe it as true and as exact as it is learned and\nprofound, full and conclusive, and we recommend its careful study to\nall who would master the question it treats.\n\nFor ourselves, we have treated the question of church and state so\noften, so fully, and so recently, in its principle and in its several\naspects, especially in relation to our own government, that we know\nnot that we have any thing to add to what we have already said, and\nwe might dispense ourselves from its further discussion by simply\nreferring to the articles, _Independence of the Church_, October,\n1866; _Church and State_, April, 1867; _Rome and the World_, October\nof the same year; and to our more recent articles on _The Future of\nProtestantism and Catholicity_, especially the third and fourth,\nJanuary, February, March, and April, of the present year; and also to\nthe article on _The School Question_, in the very last number before\nthe present. We can do, and we shall attempt, in the present article,\nto do, little more than bring together and present as a whole what is\nscattered through these several articles, and offer respectfully and\neven timidly such suggestions as we think will not be presumptuous\nin regard to the means, in the present emergency, of realizing more\nperfectly at home and abroad the ideal of Christian society.\n\nWe assume in the outset that there really exist in human society\ntwo distinct orders, the spiritual and the temporal, each with its\nown distinctive functions, laws, and sphere of action. In Christian\nsociety, the representative of the spiritual order is the church,\nand the representative of the temporal is the state. In the rudest\nstages of society the elements of the two orders exist, but are\nnot clearly apprehended as distinct orders, nor as having each its\ndistinct and proper representative. It is only in Christian society,\nor society enlightened by the Gospel, that the two orders are duly\ndistinguished, and each in its own representative is placed in its\nnormal relation with the other.\n\nThe type, indeed the reason, of this distinction of two orders in\nsociety is in the double nature of man, or the fact that man exists\nonly as soul and body, and needs to be cared for in each. The church,\nrepresenting the spiritual, has charge of the souls of men, and looks\nafter their minds, ideas, intelligence, motives, consciences, and\nconsequently has the supervision of education, morals, literature,\nscience, and art. The state, representing the temporal, has charge\nof men's bodies, and looks after the material wants and interests of\nindividuals and society. We take this illustration from the fathers\nand medi\u00e6val doctors. It is perfect. The analogy of church and state\nin the moral order, with the soul and body in the physical order,\ncommends itself to the common sense of every one, and carries in\nitself the evidence of its justness, especially when it is seen to\ncorrespond strictly in the moral order, to the distinction of soul\nand body in the physical order. We shall take, then, the relation of\nsoul and body as the type throughout of the ideal relation of church\nand state.\n\nMan lives not as body alone, nor as soul alone, but as the union of\nthe two, in reciprocal commerce. Soul and body are distinct, but not\nseparate. Each has its own distinctive properties and functions,\nand neither can replace the other; but their separation is death,\nthe death of the body only, not of the soul indeed, for that is\nimmortal. The body is material, and, separated from the soul, is dust\nand ashes, mere slime of the earth, from which it was formed. It is\nthe same in the moral order with society, which is not state alone,\nnor church alone, but the union of the two in reciprocal commerce.\nThe two are distinct, each has its distinctive nature, laws, and\nfunctions, and neither can perform the functions of the other, or\ntake the other's place. But though distinct, they cannot in the\nnormal state of society be separated. The separation of the state\nfrom the church is in the moral order what the separation of the\nbody from the soul is in the physical order. It is death, the death\nof the state, not indeed of the church; for she, like the soul, nay,\nlike God himself, is immortal. The separation of the state from the\nchurch destroys its moral life, and leaves society to become a mass\nof moral rottenness and corruption. Hence, the holy father includes\nthe proposition to separate church and state, in his syllabus of\ncondemned propositions.\n\nThe soul is defined by the church as the _forma corporis_, the\ninforming or vital principle of the body. The church in the moral\norder is _forma civitatis_, the informing, the vital principle of the\nstate or civil society, which has no moral life of its own, since\nall moral life, by its very term, proceeds from the spiritual order.\nThere is in the physical order no existence, but from God through the\nmedium of his creative act; so is there no moral life in society,\nbut from the spiritual order which is founded by God as supreme\nlaw-giver, and represented by the church, the guardian and judge\nalike of the natural law and the revealed law.\n\nThe soul is the nobler and superior part of man, and it belongs to\nit, not to make away with the body, or to assume its functions,\nbut to exercise the _magisterium_ over it, to direct and govern it\naccording to the law of God; not to the body to assume the mastery\nover the soul, and to bring the law of the mind into captivity to\nlaw in the members. So is the church, as representing the spiritual\norder, and charged with the care of souls, the nobler and superior\npart of society, and to her belongs the _magisterium_ of entire human\nsociety; and it is for her in the moral order to direct and control\ncivil society, by judicially declaring, and applying to its action,\nthe law of God, of which she is, as we have just said, the guardian\nand judge, and to which it is bound by the Supreme Law-Giver to\nsubordinate its entire official conduct.\n\nWe note here that this view condemns alike the absorption of the\nstate in the church, and the absorption of the church in the state,\nand requires each to remain distinct from the other, each with its\nown organization, organs, faculties, and sphere of action. It favors,\ntherefore, neither what is called theocracy, or _clerocracy_, rather,\nto which Calvinistic Protestantism is strongly inclined, nor the\nsupremacy of the state, to which the age tends, and which was assumed\nin all the states of Gentile antiquity, whence came the persecution\nof Christians by the pagan emperors. We note farther, that the\nchurch does not make the law; she only promulgates, declares, and\napplies it, and is herself as much bound by it as is the state\nitself. The law itself is prescribed for the government of all men\nand nations, by God himself as supreme law-giver, or the end or\nfinal cause of creation, and binds equally states and individuals,\nchurchmen and statesmen, sovereigns and subjects.\n\nSuch, as we have learned it, is the Catholic doctrine of the relation\nof church and state, and such is the relation that in the divine\norder really exists between the two orders, and which the church\nhas always and everywhere labored with all her zeal and energy to\nintroduce and maintain in society. It is her ideal of catholic or\ntruly Christian society, but which has never yet been perfectly\nrealized, though an approach to its realization, the author thinks,\nwas made under the Christian Roman emperors. The chronic condition\nof the two orders in society, instead of union and co\u00f6peration, or\nreciprocal commerce, has been that of mutual distrust or undisguised\nhostility. During the first three centuries, the relation between\nthem was that of open antagonism, and the blood of Christians made\nthe greater part of the world then known hallowed ground, and the\nChristians, as Lactantius remarks, conquered the world, not by\nslaughtering, but by being slaughtered. The pagan sovereign of Rome\nclaimed, and was held to unite both powers in himself, and was at\nonce _imperator_, _pontifix maximus_, and _divus_, or god. The\nstate, even after the conversion of the empire and of the barbarians\nthat overturned it and seated themselves on its ruins, never fully\ndisclaimed the spiritual faculties conceded it by Gr\u00e6co-Roman or\nItalo-Greek civilization.\n\nAll through the middle ages, Kenelm Digby's ages of faith, when it\nis pretended the church had every thing her own way, and the haughty\npower of her supreme pontiffs and their tyranny over such meek and\nlamb-like temporal princes as Henry IV., Frederick Barbarossa, and\nFrederick II. of Germany, Philip Augustus of France, Henry II. and\nJohn Lackland of England, have been the theme of many a school-boy\ndeclamation against her, and adduced by grave statesmen as an excuse\nfor depriving Catholics of their liberty, confiscating their goods,\nand cutting their throats--all through those ages, we say, she\nenjoyed not a moment's peace, hardly a truce, and was obliged to\nsustain an unceasing struggle with the civil authority against its\nencroachments on the spiritual order, and for her own independence\nand freedom of action as the church of God. In this struggle, the\nstruggle of mind against matter, of moral power against physical\nforce, the church was far from being, at least to human eyes, always\nvictorious, and she experienced more than one disastrous defeat.\nIn the sixteenth century, C\u00e6sar carried away from her the north of\nEurope, as he had long since carried away the whole east, and forced\nher, in the nations that professed to recognize her as representing\nthe spiritual order, to make him such large concessions as left her\nlittle more than the shadow of independence; and the people and\ntheir rulers are now almost everywhere conspiring to take away even\nthat shadow, and to render her completely subject to the state, or\nrepresentative of the temporal order.\n\nThere is no opinion more firmly fixed in the minds of the people\nof to-day, at least according to the journals, than that the union\nof church and state is execrable and ought not to be suffered to\nexist. The words cannot be pronounced without sending a thrill of\nhorror through society, and calling forth the most vigorous and\nindignant protest from every self-appointed defender of modern\ncivilization, progress, liberty, equality, and fraternity. What is\ncalled the \"Liberal party,\" sometimes \"the movement party,\" but what\nwe call \"the revolution,\" has everywhere for its _primum mobile_,\nits impulse and its motive, the dissolution of what remains of the\nunion of church and state, the total separation of the state from\nthe church and its assertion as the supreme and only legitimate\nauthority in society, to which all orders and classes of men, and\nall matters, whether temporal or spiritual, must be subjected. The\ngreat words of the party, as pronounced by its apostles and chiefs,\nare \"people-king,\" \"people-priest,\" \"people-God.\" There is no denying\nthe fact. Science, or what passes for science, denies the double\nnature of man, the distinction between soul and body, and makes the\nsoul the product of material organization, or a mere function of the\nbody; and the more popular philosophy suppresses the spiritual order\nin society, and therefore rejects its pretended representative; and\nthe progress of intelligence suppresses God, and leaves for society\nonly political atheism pure and simple, as is evident from the savage\nwar-whoop set up throughout the civilized world against the syllabus\nof condemned propositions published by our holy father, December,\n1864. This syllabus touched the deep wound of modern society, probed\nit to the quick, and hence the writhings and contortions, the groans\nand screechings it occasioned. May God grant that it touched to heal,\nexposed the wound only to apply the remedy.\n\nBut the remedy--what is it, where shall we seek it, and how shall\nit be applied? The question is delicate as well as grave, let it\nbe answered as it may. The principles of the church are inflexible\nand unalterable, and must be preserved inviolate; and even the\nsusceptibilities of both statesmen and churchmen, in regard to\nchanges in old customs and usages, even when not unchangeable in\ntheir nature, are to be gently treated. The church is not less\nbound by the law of God than is the state; for she does not, as we\nhave said, make the law, she only administers it. Undoubtedly, she\nhas in a secondary sense legislative authority or power to enact\ncanons or rules and regulations for preserving, carrying out, and\napplying the law, as the court adopts its own rules and regulations,\nor as does the executive authority, even in a government like ours,\nfor executing the law enacted by the legislative power. These may\nno doubt be changed from time to time by the church as she judges\nnecessary, proper, or expedient in order the better to meet the\nchanging circumstances in relation to which she is obliged to act.\nBut even in these respects, changes must be made in strict conformity\nto law; and although they may be so made and leave the law intact,\nand affect only the modes or forms of its administration, they are\nnot without a certain danger. The faithful may mistake them for\nchanges or innovations in the law itself, and enemies may represent\nthem as such, and sophistically adduce them against the church as\ndisproving her immutability and infallibility.\n\nThere have been, and no doubt are still, abuses in the church\ngrowing out of its human side, which need changes in discipline to\nreform them; but these abuses have always been exaggerated by the\nbest and holiest men in the church, and the necessity of a change\nin discipline or ecclesiastical law, as distinguished from the law\nof God, is seldom, if ever, created by them. When evils exist that\nmenace both faith and society, it is not the church that is in fault,\nbut the world that refuses to conform to the law as she declares\nand applies it. It was not abuses in the church that were the chief\ncause of the revolt, the heresy, and schism of the reformers in the\nsixteenth century; for they were far less then than they had been\none, two, three, or even four centuries previous. The worst abuses\nand greatest scandals which had previously obtained had already been\ncorrected, and Leo X. had assembled the Fifth Council of the Lateran\nfor the purpose of restoring discipline and rendering it still more\neffective. The evil originated in the temporal order as represented\nby the state, and grew out of secular changes and abuses. It was so\nthen, it is so now, always was and always will be so. Why, then,\ndemand changes or reform in the church, which cannot reach them? The\nchurch causes none of the evils at any time complained of, and offers\nno obstacle to their removal, or the redress of social grievances.\nIt is for the temporal to yield to the spiritual, not for the\nspiritual to yield to the temporal. Very true; and yet the church may\ncondescend to the world in its weakness for the sake of elevating\nit to harmony with her own ideal. God, when he would take away sin,\nand save the souls he had created and which he loved, did not stand\naloof, or, so to speak, on his dignity, and bid the sinner cease\nsinning and obey him, without stretching forth his hand to help him;\nbut made himself man, humbled himself, took the form of a servant,\nand came to the world lying in wickedness and festering in iniquity,\ntook it by the hand, and sweetly and gently led the sinner away from\nsin to virtue and holiness.\n\nFor four hundred years, the church has sought to maintain peace and\nconcord between herself and the state by concordats, as the wisest\nand best expedient she found practicable. But concordats, however\nuseful or necessary, do not realize the ideal of Christian society.\nThey do not effect the true union of church and state, and cannot\nbe needed where that union exists. They imply not the union, but\nthe separation of church and state, and are neither necessary nor\nadmissible, except where the state claims to be separate from and\nindependent of the church. They are a compromise in which the church\nconcedes the exercise of certain rights to the state in consideration\nof its pledge to secure her in the free and peaceable exercise of the\nrest, and to render her the material force in the execution of her\nspiritual canons, which she may need but does not herself possess.\nThey are defensible only as necessary expedients, to save the church\nand the state from falling into the relation of direct and open\nantagonism.\n\nYet even as expedients concordats have been at best only partially\nsuccessful, and now seem on the point of failing altogether. While\nthe church faithfully observes their stipulations so far as they bind\nher, the state seldom observes them in the respect that they bind it,\nand violates them as often as they interfere with its own ambitious\nprojects or policy. The church has concordats with the greater part\nof the European states, and yet while in certain respects they\ntrammel her freedom, they afford her little or no protection. The\nstate everywhere claims the right to violate or abrogate them at\nwill, without consulting her, the other party to the contract. It\nhas done so in Spain, in Italy, and in Austria; and if France at\npresent observes the concordat of 1801, she does it only in the sense\nof the \"organic articles,\" never inserted in it, but added by the\nFirst Consul on his authority alone, and always protested against by\nthe supreme pontiff and vicar of Christ; and there is no foreseeing\nwhat the present or a new ministry may do. Even if the governments\nwere disposed to observe them, their people would not suffer them\nto do so, as we see in Spain and Austria. Times have changed, and\nthe governments no longer govern the people, but the people, or the\ndemagogues who lead them, now govern the governments. The European\ngovernments sustain their power, even their existence, only by the\nphysical force of five millions of armed soldiers.\n\nThere is evidently, then, little reliance to be placed on the\ngovernments; for they are liable, any day, to be changed or\noverthrown. The strongest of them hope to sustain themselves and\nkeep the revolution in check only by concessions, as we see in the\nextension of suffrage in England, and the adoption of parliamentary\ngovernment, under a constitutional monarch, in Austria, France, North\nGermany, and elsewhere. But as yet the concessions of the governments\nhave nowhere strengthened them or weakened the revolution. One\nconcession becomes the precedent for another, and one demand\nsatisfied only leads to another and a greater demand, while it\ndiminishes the power of the government to resist. What is more, the\ncloser the union of the church with the government the more helpless\nit becomes, and the greater the hostility it incurs. The _primum\nmobile_ of the movement party, as we now find it, is not the love of\nhonest liberty, or a liberty compatible with stable government, or\nthe establishment of a democratic or republican constitution; and it\nis not hostile to the church only because she exerts her power to\nsustain the governments it would reform or revolutionize, but rather,\nbecause it regards them as upholding the church, which they detest\nand would annihilate. The _primum mobile_ is hatred of the church.\nThis is the reason why, even when the governments are well disposed,\nas sometimes they are, the people will not suffer them to observe\nfaithfully their engagements to the church.\n\nHere was the mistake of the brilliant but unhappy De la Mennais.\nHe called upon the church to cut herself loose from her entangling\nalliance with the state, and throw herself back on the people; which\nwould have been not bad counsel, if the people were hostile to her\nonly because they supposed her allied with despotic governments, or\nif they were less hostile to her than the governments themselves. But\nsuch is not the fact at present. The people are to-day controlled\nby Catholics who care little for any world but the present, by\nProtestants, rationalists, Jews, infidels, and humanitarians; and to\nact on the Lamennaisian counsel would seem very much like abandoning\nweak, timid, and too exacting friends, to throw one's self into the\narms of powerful and implacable enemies. When, in the beginning of\nhis reign, the holy father adopted some popular measures, he was\nuniversally applauded, but he did not win those who applauded him\nto the church; and his measures were applauded by the outside world\nonly because believed to be such as would tend to undermine his\nown authority, and pave the way for the downfall of Catholicity.\nThe movement party applauded, because they thought they could use\nhim as an instrument for the destruction of the church. In the\nFrench Revolution of February, 1848, originating in deep-seated and\ninveterate hostility to the church, the ready acceptance of the\nrepublic, the next day after its proclamation, by the French bishops\nand clergy, did not for a moment conciliate the hostility in which\nthe revolution had its origin. They were applauded indeed, but only\nin the hope of making use of them to democratize, or secularize, and\ntherefore to destroy the church as the authoritative representative\nof the spiritual order. The bishops and priests, all but a very\nsmall minority, showed that they understood and appreciated the\napplause they received, by abandoning the revolution at the earliest\npracticable moment, and lending their support to the movement for\nthe Establishment of imperialism; for they felt that they could more\nsafely rely on the emperor than on the republic.\n\nThese facts and the reminiscences of the old French Revolution, have\ncreated in the great majority of intelligent and earnest Catholics,\nwisely or unwisely, we say not, a profound distrust of the movement\nparty, which professes to be the party of liberty, and which carries\nin its train, if not the numerical majority, at least the active,\nenergetic, and leading minds of their respective nations, those\nthat form public opinion and give its direction, and make them\nhonestly believe that Catholic interests, which are not separable\nfrom the interests of society, will be best protected and promoted\nby the church's standing by the governments and aiding them in their\nrepressive measures. Perhaps they are right. The church, of course,\ncannot abandon society; but in times like ours, it is not easy to say\non which side lie the interests of society. Is it certain that they\nlie on either side, either with the governments as they are, or with\nthe party opposed to them? At present the church neither directs the\ngovernments nor controls the popular or so-called liberal movement;\nand we confess it is difficult to say from which she and society have\nmost to dread. Governments without her direction want morality,\nand can govern only by force; and popular movements not inspired or\ncontrolled by her are blind and lawless, and tend only to anarchy,\nand the destruction of liberty as well as of order, of morality as\nwell as of religion as a directing and governing power. We distrust\nboth.\n\nFor ourselves personally, we are partial to our own American system,\nwhich, unless we are blinded by our national prejudices, comes nearer\nto the realization of the true union as well as distinction of church\nand state than has heretofore or elsewhere been effected; and we\nown we should like to see it, if practicable there, introduced--by\nlawful means only--into the nations of Europe. The American system\nmay not be practicable in Europe; but, if so, we think it would be an\nimprovement. Foreigners do not generally, nor even do all Americans\nthemselves fully understand the relation of church and state, as it\nreally subsists in the fundamental constitution of American society.\nAbroad and at home there is a strong disposition to interpret it by\nthe theory of European liberalism, and both they who defend and they\nwho oppose the union of church and state, regard it as based on their\ntotal separation. But the reverse of this, as we understand it, is\nthe fact. American society is based on the principle of their union;\nand union, while it implies distinction, denies separation. Modern\ninfidelity or secularism is, no doubt, at work here as elsewhere to\neffect their separation; but as yet the two orders are distinct, each\nwith its distinct organization, sphere of action, representative, and\nfunctions, but not separate. Here the rights of neither are held to\nbe grants from the other. The rights of the church are not franchises\nor concessions from the state, but are recognized by the state as\nheld under a higher law than its own, and therefore rights prior to\nand above itself, which it is bound by the law constituting it to\nrespect, obey, and, whenever necessary, to use its physical force to\nprotect and vindicate.\n\nThe original settlers of the Anglo-American colonies were not\ninfidels, but, for the most part, sincerely religious and Christian\nin their way, and in organizing society aimed not simply to escape\nthe oppression of conscience, of which they had been the victims in\nthe mother country, but to found a truly Christian commonwealth; and\nsuch commonwealth they actually founded, as perfect as was possible\nwith their imperfect and often erroneous views of Christianity. The\ncolonies of New England inclined, no doubt, to a theocracy, and\ntended to absorb the state in the church; in the Southern colonies,\nthe tendency was, as in England, to establish the supremacy of the\ncivil order, and to make the church a function of the state. These\ntwo opposite tendencies meeting in the formation of American society,\nto a great extent, counterbalanced each other, and resulted in the\nassertion of the supremacy of the Christian idea, or the union and\ndistinction under the law of God, of the two orders. In principle, at\nleast, each order exists in American society in its normal relation\nto the other; and also in its integrity, with its own distinctive\nnature, laws, and functions, and therefore the temporal in its proper\nsubordination to the spiritual.\n\nThis subordination is, indeed, not always observed in practice,\nnor always even theoretically admitted. Many Americans, at first\nthought, when it is broadly stated, will indignantly deny it. We\nshall find even Catholics who do not accept it, and gravely tell us\nthat their religion has nothing to do with their politics; that is,\ntheir politics are independent of their religion; that is, again,\npolitics are independent of God, and there is no God in the political\norder; as if a man could be an atheist in the state, and a devout\nCatholic in the church. But too many Catholics, at home and abroad,\nact as if this were indeed possible, and very reasonable, nay, their\nduty; and hence the political world is given over to the violence and\ncorruption in which Satan finds a rich harvest. But let the state\npass some act that openly and undisguisedly attacks the rights,\nthe freedom, or independence of the church, in a practical way, it\nwill be hard to find a single Catholic, in this country at least,\nwho would not denounce it as an outrage on his conscience, which\nshows that the assertion of the separation of politics from religion\nso thoughtlessly made, really means only the distinction, not the\nseparation of the two orders, or that politics are independent, so\nlong as they do not run counter to the freedom and independence of\nreligion, or fail to respect and protect the rights of the church.\nInexactness of expression, and bad logic do not necessarily indicate\nunsound faith.\n\nMost non-Catholics will deny that the American state is founded on\nthe recognition of the independence and superiority of the spiritual\norder, and therefore, of the church, and the confession of its own\nsubordination to the spiritual, not only in the order of logic, as\nIl Signor Cant\u00f9 maintains, but also in the order of authority; yet a\nlittle reflection ought to satisfy every one that such is the fact,\nand if it does not, it will be owing to a misconception of what is\nspiritual. The basis of the American state or constitution, the real,\nunwritten, providential constitution, we mean, is what are called\nthe natural and inalienable rights of man; and we know no American\ncitizen who does not hold that these rights are prior to civil\nsociety, above it, and held independently of it; or that does not\nmaintain that the great end for which civil society is instituted\nis to protect, defend, and vindicate, if need be, with its whole\nphysical force, these sacred and inviolable rights for each and every\ncitizen, however high, however low. This is our American boast,\nour American conception of political justice, glory. These rights,\namong which are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, are the\nhigher, the supreme law for civil society, which the state, however\nconstituted, is bound to recognize and obey. They deny the absolutism\nof the state, define its sphere, restrict its power, and prescribe\nits duty.\n\nBut whence come these rights? and how can they bind the state, and\nprescribe its duty? We hold these rights by virtue, of our manhood,\nit is said; they are inherent in it, and constitute it. But my\nrights bind you, and yours bind me, and yet you and I are equal; our\nmanhoods are equal. How, then, can the manhood of either bind or\nmorally oblige the other? Of things equal one cannot be superior to\nanother. They are in our nature as men, it is said again, or, simply,\nwe hold them from nature. They are said to be natural rights and\ninalienable, and what is natural must be in or from nature. Nature\nis taken in two senses; as the physical order or the physical laws\nconstitutive of the physical universe, and as the moral law under\nwhich all creatures endowed with reason and free-will are placed by\nthe Creator, and which is cognizable by natural reason or the reason\ncommon to all men. In the first sense, these rights are not inherent\nin our nature as men, nor from nature, or in nature; for they are not\nphysical. Physical rights are a contradiction in terms. They can be\ninherent in our nature only in the second sense, and in our moral\nnature only, and consequently are held under the law which founds\nand sustains moral nature, or the moral order as distinct from the\nphysical order.\n\nBut the moral law, the so-called law of nature, _droit naturel_,\nwhich founds and sustains the moral order, the order of right, of\njustice, is not a law founded or prescribed by nature, but the law\nfor the moral government of nature, under which all moral natures\nare placed by the Author of nature as supreme law-giver. The law of\nnature is God's law; and whatever rights it founds or are held from\nit are his rights, and ours only because they are his. My rights, in\nrelation to you, are your duties, what God prescribes as the law of\nyour conduct to me; and your rights are, in relation to me, my duties\nto you, what God prescribes as the rule of my conduct to you. But\nwhat God prescribes he has the right to prescribe, and therefore can\ncommand me to respect no rights in you, and you to respect no rights\nin me, that are not his; and being his, civil society is bound by\nthem, and cannot alienate them or deny them without violating his\nlaw, and robbing him of his rights. Hence, he who does an injury to\nanother wrongs not him only, but wrongs his Maker, his Sovereign, and\nhis Judge.\n\nTake any of the rights enumerated as inalienable in the preamble to\nthe Declaration of Independence. Among these is the right to life.\nThis right all men and civil society itself are bound to treat as\nsacred and inviolable. But all men are created equal, and under the\nlaw of nature have equal rights. But how can equals bind one another?\nBy mutual compact. But whence the obligation of the compact? Why am\nI obliged to keep my word? Certainly not by the word itself; but\nbecause I should deprive him of his right to whom I have pledged\nit. But I have given my word to assist in committing a murder. Am I\nbound to keep it? Not at all. Why not? Because I have pledged myself\nto commit a crime, to do a wrong or unjust act. Evidently, then,\ncompacts or pledged words do not create justice, they presuppose it;\nand it is only in virtue of the law of justice that compacts are\nobligatory, and no compacts not conformable to that law can bind.\nWhy, then, am I bound to respect your life? It is not you who can\nbind me; for you and I are equals, and neither in his own name can\nbind the other. To take your life would be an unjust act; that is,\nI should rob justice of its right to your life. The right to life\nis then the right of justice. But justice is not an abstraction; it\nis not a mental conception, but a reality, and therefore God; and\nhence the right for you or me to live is the right of him who hath\nmade us and whose we are, with all that we are, all that we have,\nand all that we can do. Hence, the right to life is inalienable even\nby myself, and suicide is not only a crime against society, but a\nsin against God; for God owns it as his right, and therefore he has\nthe right to command all men to hold it in every man sacred and\ninviolable, and never to be taken by other men or even civil society,\nbut at his order. So of all the other rights of man.\n\nIf the rights of man are the rights of God in and over man as his\ncreature, as they undeniably are, they lie in the spiritual order,\nare spiritual, not temporal. The American state, then, in recognizing\nthe independence, superiority, and inviolability of the rights of\nman, does recognize, in principle, the independence, superiority,\nand inviolability of the spiritual order, and its own subordination\nto it, and obligation to consult it and conform to it. It then\nrecognizes the church divinely appointed and commissioned by God with\nplenary authority to represent it, and apply the law of God to the\ngovernment of the people as the state no less than to the people as\nindividuals. This follows as a necessary consequence. If God has made\na supernatural revelation, we are bound by the natural law to believe\nit; and if he has instituted a church to represent the spiritual, or\nconcreted the spiritual in a visible organism, with plenary authority\nto teach his word to all men and nations, and to declare and apply\nhis law in the government of human affairs, we are bound to accept\nand obey her the moment the fact is brought sufficiently to our\nknowledge. This shows that the true church, if such church there be,\nis sacred and inviolable, and that what she declares to be the law\nof God is his law, which binds every conscience; and all sovereigns\nand subjects, states and citizens are alike bound to obey her. He who\nrefuses to obey her refuses to obey God; he who spurns her spurns\nGod; he who despises her despises God; and he who despoils her of\nany of her rights or possessions despoils God. Kings and the great\nof the earth, statesmen and courtiers, demagogues and politicians\nare apt to forget this, and because God does not instantly punish\ntheir sacrilege with a visible and material punishment, conclude that\nthey may outrage her to their heart's content with impunity. But the\npunishment is sure to follow in due course, and so far as it concerns\nstates, dynasties, and society, in the shape of moral weakness,\nimbecility, corruption, and death.\n\nThat the American state is true to the order it acknowledges, and\nnever usurps any spiritual functions, we do not pretend. The American\nstate copies in but too many instances the bad legislation of\nEurope. It from the outset showed the original vice of the American\npeople; for while they very justly subjected the state to the law\nof God, they could subject it to that law only as they understood\nit, and their understanding of it was in many respects faulty, which\nwas no wonder, since they had no infallible, no authoritative, in\nfact, no representative at all of the spiritual order, and knew the\nlaw of God only so far as taught it by natural reason, and spelled\nout by their imperfect light from an imperfect and mutilated text\nof the written word. They had a good major proposition, namely, the\nspiritual order duly represented is supreme, and should govern all\nmen collectively and individually, as states and as citizens; but\ntheir minor was bad. But we with our reading of the Bible do duly\nrepresent that order. Therefore, etc. Now, we willingly admit that\na people reverencing and reading the Bible as the word of God, will\nin most respects have a far truer and more adequate knowledge of\nthe law of God than those who have neither church nor Bible, and\nonly their reason and the mutilated, perverted, and even travestied\ntraditions of the primitive revelation retained and transmitted by\nGentilism, and therefore that Protestantism as understood by the\nAmerican colonists is much better for society than the liberalism\nasserted by the movement party either here or in Europe; but its\nknowledge will still be defective, and leave many painful gaps on\nmany important points; and the state, having no better knowledge,\nwill almost inevitably misconceive what on various matters the law of\nGod actually prescribes or forbids.\n\nThe American state, misled by public opinion, usurps the functions\nof the church in some very grave matters. It assumes the control\nof marriage and education, therefore of all family relations, of\nthe family itself, and of ideas, intelligence, opinions, which we\nhave seen are functions of the church, and both are included in the\ntwo sacraments of marriage and orders. It also fails to recognize\nthe freedom and independence of the spiritual order in refusing to\nrecognize the church as a corporation, a moral person, as capable of\npossessing property as any natural or private person, and therefore\ndenies to the spiritual order the inalienable right of property. The\nAmerican state denies to the church all possessory rights unless\nincorporated by itself. This is all wrong; but if no better, it is no\nworse than what is assumed by the state in every European nation; and\nthe most that can be said is, that in these matters the state forgets\nthe Christian commonwealth for the pagan, as is done everywhere else.\n\nBut except in these instances, the American state is, we believe,\ntrue to the Christian principle on which it is based, as true,\nthat is, as it can be in a mixed community of Catholics, Jews, and\nProtestants. The state has no spiritual competency, and cannot\ndecide either for itself or for its citizens which is or is not\nthe church that authoritatively represents the spiritual order.\nThe responsibility of that decision it does and must leave to its\ncitizens, who must decide for themselves, and answer to God for the\nrectitude of their decision. Their decision is law for the state,\nand it must respect and obey it in the case alike of majorities and\nminorities; for it recognizes the equal rights of all its citizens,\nand cannot discriminate between them. The church that represents for\nthe state the spiritual order is the church adopted by its citizens;\nand as they adopt different churches, it can recognize and enforce,\nthrough the civil courts, the canons and decrees of each only on its\nown members, and on them only so far as they do not infringe on the\nequal rights of the others. This is not all the state would do or\nought to do in a perfect Christian society, but it is all that it\ncan do where these different churches exist, and exist for it with\nequal rights. It can only recognize them, and protect and vindicate\nthe rights of each only in relation to those citizens who acknowledge\nits authority. This recognizes and protects the Catholic Church in\nher entire freedom and independence and in teaching her faith, and in\ngoverning and disciplining Catholics according to her own canons and\ndecrees, which, unless we are greatly misinformed, is more than the\nstate does for her, in any old Catholic nation in the world.\n\nThis is not tolerance or indifference; it only means that the state\ndoes not arrogate to itself the right to decide which is the true\nchurch, and holds itself bound to respect and protect equally the\nchurch or churches acknowledged as such by its citizens. The doctrine\nthat a man is free before God to be of any religion, or of no\nreligion as he pleases, or the liberty of conscience, as understood\nby the so-called liberals throughout the world, and which was\ncondemned by Gregory XVI. of immortal memory, in his encyclical of\nAugust 15th, 1832, receives no countenance from the American state,\nand is repugnant to its fundamental constitution. Heretical and\nschismatic sects have, indeed, no rights; for they have no authority\nfrom God to represent the spiritual order, and their existence is,\nno doubt, repugnant to the real interests of society as well as\ndestructive to souls; but in a community where they exist along with\nthe true church, the state must respect and protect in them the\nrights of the spiritual order, not indeed because they claim to be\nthe church, but because they are held to be such by its citizens,\nand all its citizens have equal rights in the civil order, and the\nequal right to have their conscience, if they have a conscience,\nrespected and protected. The church of God exacts nothing more of it\nin this respect than to be protected in her freedom to combat and\nvanquish the adherents of false churches or false religions with her\nown spiritual weapons. More she might exact of the state in perfect\nChristian society; but this is all that she can exact in an imperfect\nand divided Christian society, as is the case in nearly all modern\nnations.\n\nThis is the American system. Is it practicable in the old Catholic\nnations of Europe? Would it be a gain to religion, if suffered to\nbe introduced there? Would the government, if it were accepted by\nthe church, understand it as implying its obligation to respect and\nprotect all churches equally as representing the spiritual order, or\nas asserting its freedom to govern and oppress all at will, the true\nchurch as the false? There is danger of the latter, because European\nsociety is not based on the Christian principle of the independence\nand inviolability of the rights of man, that is, the rights of God,\nbut on the pagan principle of the state, that all rights, even the\nrights of the church, and society emanate from the state, and are\nrevocable at its will. Hence the reason why the church has found\nconcordats with the secular powers so necessary. In the sense of\nthe secular authority, these concordats are acts of incorporation,\nand surrendering them by the church would be the surrender of its\ncharter by a corporation. It would be to abandon all her goods to\nthe state, leave her without a legal _status_, and with no rights\nwhich the state holds itself bound to recognize, protect, or enforce\nthrough its courts, any more than she had under the persecuting\nRoman emperors. This would be the farthest remove possible from the\nAmerican system. Before the American system could be introduced into\nEuropean states in the respect that it affords freedom and protection\nto the church in the discharge of her spiritual functions, the whole\nstructure of European society would need to be reconstructed on\nthe Christian foundation, or the basis of the inherent rights and\nsupremacy of the spiritual order, instead of its present pagan or\n_Gr\u00e6co-Roman_ basis of the supremacy of the city or state.\n\nUndoubtedly, the liberals, or movement party, are, and have been, for\nnearly a century, struggling by all the means in their power, fair or\nfoul, to overthrow European society, and reconstruct it after what\nthey suppose to be the American model, but in reality on a basis,\nif possible, more pagan and less Christian than its present basis.\nThey assert the absolute supremacy of the state in all things; only,\ninstead of saying with Louis XIV., \"L'\u00e9tat, c'est moi,\" they say\n\"L'\u00e9tat, c'est le peuple,\" but they make the people, as the state, as\nabsolute as any king or kaiser-state ever pretended to be. The church\nwould, in their reconstructed society, not have secured to her the\nrights that she holds under our system, by the fact that it is based\non the equal and antecedent rights of all citizens, really the rights\nof God, which limit the power of state, of the people in a democratic\nstate, and prescribe both its province and its duty.\n\nEven with us, the American system has its enemies, and perhaps only\na minority of the people understand it as we do, and some of the\ncourts are beginning to render decisions which, if in one part, they\nsustain it, in another part flatly contradict it. The Supreme Court\nof Ohio, in the recent case of the School Board of Cincinnati, has\ndecided very properly that the board could not exclude religion;\nbut, on the other hand, it maintains that a majority of the people\nin any locality may introduce what religion they please, and teach\nit to the children of the minority as well as to their own, which is\nmanifestly wrong; for it gives the majority of the people the power\nto establish their own religion, and exclude that of the minority\nwhen, in matters of religion, that is, in matters of conscience,\nvotes do not count. My conscience, though in a minority of one, is as\nsacred and inviolable as it would be if all the rest of the community\nwere with me. As in the Polish Diet, a single veto suffices to arrest\nthe whole action of the state. The American democracy is not what it\nwas in 1776. It was then Christian after a Protestant fashion; it is\nnow infected with European liberalism, or popular absolutism; and if\nwe had to introduce the American system now, we should not be able to\ndo it.\n\nThere are serious difficulties on both sides. The church cannot\nconfide in the revolution, and the governments cannot or will not\nprotect her, save at the expense of her independence and freedom of\naction. They, if we may believe any thing the journals say, threaten\nher with their vengeance, if she dares to make and publish such or\nsuch a dogmatic decision, or to define on certain points which they\nthink touch them, what her faith is and always has been. This is\na manifest invasion of her right to teach the word of God in its\nintegrity, and simply tells her, with the sword suspended over her\nhead, that she shall teach only what is agreeable to them, whether\nin God's word or not. This insolence, this arrogant assumption,\napplauded by the universal sectarian and secular press, if submitted\nto, would make the church the mere tool of the secular authority, and\ndestroy all confidence in her teaching.\n\nWe know not how these difficulties on either side are to be overcome.\nThe church cannot continue to be shorn of her freedom by the secular\ngovernments, and made to conform to their ambitious or timid\npolitics, without losing more and more her hold on the European\npopulations. Nor can she side with the revolution without perilling\nthe interests of society from which her own cannot be separated. We\nsee no way out of the dilemma but for her, trusting in the divine\nprotection, to assert simply and energetically her independence of\nboth parties alike, and confide in the faithful, as she did in the\nmartyr ages, and as she does now in every heathen land.\n\nWe do not assume the propriety or necessity of trying to introduce\nthe American system into the old world, nor do we urge the church to\nbreak either with the governments or with the people; but we may,\nwe hope, be permitted to say that what seems to us to be needed is,\nfor the church to assert her independence of both so far as either\nattempts to control her in the free discharge of her functions as\nthe church of God; and we think the faithful should be prepared\nfor the consequences of such assertion, whatever they may prove to\nbe. The church cannot fulfil her mission, which is not confined to\nthe Catholic nations of Europe, but embraces the whole world, if\nshe is thus denied her independence and crippled in her freedom of\naction. If the assertion of her independence in face of the temporal\norder deprives her of her legal status, and places her out of the\nprotection of the civil law, it perhaps will, in the end, prove to be\nno serious calamity, or at least a less evil than her present cramped\nand crippled condition. She has held that position heretofore, and,\naided by Him whose spouse she is, and who hath purchased her with his\nprecious blood, she in that very condition conquered and subdued the\nworld against the hostility of the most powerful empire that ever\nexisted. What she has done once, she is no less able to do again. The\nworst that the state can do is to strip her of her temporalities, and\nforbid her to preach in the name of Jesus. The worst the revolution\ncan do is the same, and in its fury to massacre bishops and priests,\nmonks and nuns, men and women, because they choose to obey God rather\nthan men.\n\nWell, all this has been more than once. We have seen it in Ireland,\nwhere the church was despoiled of her revenues, the people of their\nchurches, schools, colleges, and religious houses, and only not of\nthe use of the graveyard; where Catholic worship was prohibited\nunder pain of death, and armed soldiers hunted and shot down as a\nwild beast the priest who ventured to say mass in a private house,\nin a remote morass, or a cave in the mountain, and the faithful were\nslaughtered as sheep by fiery zealots or the graceless myrmidons of\npower; where not only the church was despoiled and left naked and\ndestitute, but her children were also despoiled of their estates and\nreduced to poverty, while laws were devised with satanic ingenuity\nand enforced with savage ferocity to degrade and debase them, and\nto prevent them from escaping from their poverty or their enforced\nsecular ignorance. Yet we have seen the faith in spite of all live\nand gain on its enemies, the church survive and even prosper; and\nonly the last year, when offered freely a government subsidy for her\nclergy and her services, we have seen the noble Irish hierarchy,\nwithout a dissenting voice, refuse it, and prefer to rely on the\nvoluntary offerings of the faithful to coming under any obligation to\nthe temporal power.\n\nIn this country the people were, in the outset, as hostile to the\nchurch as they could be anywhere or in any age, and they are not\neven yet converted, very generally, into warm and eager friends;\nyet without any public provision, relying solely on the alms of the\nfaithful at home and abroad, principally at home, the missionaries\nof the cross have been sustained, the widow's handful of meal and\ncruse of oil have not failed; and yet we have founded and sustained\nschools, colleges, universities, erected convents for men and for\nwomen, and are erecting throughout the whole country churches, the\nfinest in it, and some of which may be regarded as architectural\nornaments; and nearly all this has been achieved within a single\nlifetime.\n\nMen who sit at their ease in Zion, and find their most engrossing\noccupation in solving an antiquarian problem, or disserting on some\nheathen relic just dug up, though the world is breaking up and\nfalling to pieces around them, may be frightened at the prospect of\nbeing deprived of comforts they are used to; but let governments\nand peoples do their worst, they cannot do worse than heathen Rome\ndid, worse than France did in the revolution of 1789, or England has\nbeen doing in Ireland for three hundred years. Fear! What is there\nto fear? If God be for us, who can be against us? The danger seems\ngreat, no doubt, to many; but let Catholics have the courage of their\nfaith, and they will no longer fear him who can kill the body, and\nafter that hath no more power. The danger before men of Christian\ncourage will disappear as the morning mist before the rising sun. Can\na Catholic fear poverty, want, labor, suffering, torture, or death\nin His cause who for our sakes became poor, and had not where to lay\nhis head; who took the form of a servant, and obeyed unto death, even\nthe death of the cross? Know we not that Catholic faith and Catholic\ncharity can weary out the most cruel and envenomed persecutors,\nand in the end gain the victory over them? If the church finds it\nnecessary, then, in order to maintain her independence, to incur the\nhostility of kings or peoples, and the loss of her goods, there need\nbe no fear; God will not forsake her, and the charity of the faithful\nnever faileth.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[21] _Chiesa e Stato_: Rapsodie di C. Cant\u00f9, dalla _Rivista\nUniversale_. Corretto e riveduto dall' Autore. 1867. 8vo, pp. 94.\n\n\n\n\nDION AND THE SIBYLS.\n\nA CLASSIC, CHRISTIAN NOVEL.\n\nBY MILES GERALD KEON, COLONIAL SECRETARY, BERMUDA, AUTHOR OF \"HARDING\nTHE MONEY-SPINNER,\" ETC.\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nTiberius, when all had disappeared along the road, suddenly stopped\nin his walk.\n\nHis companion, toward whom he had turned, did the same, and looked at\nhim with an air of expectation.\n\n\"I leave all details to you,\" said the C\u00e6sar; \"but what has to be\ndone is this--that youth who calls himself Paulus Lepidus \u00c6milius\nmust be produced as a gladiator either in the Circus Maximus or the\nStatilian Amphitheatre,[22] as the number of victims may dictate. Men\nof noble birth have been seen ere now upon the sand. We will then\nmake him show against the best swordsmen in the world--against Gauls,\nBritons, and Cappadocians--what that Greek fence is worth of which\nhe seems a master. The girl, his sister, must be carried off, either\nbeforehand or afterward, as your skill may dictate, and softly and\nsafely lodged at Rome in that two-storied brick house of Cneius Piso\nand his precious wife, Plancina, which is not known to be mine; (I\nbelieve and hope, and am given to understand, that it is not known to\nbe theirs neither.)\"\n\nTiberius paused, and Sejanus, with an intent look, slightly inclined\nhis head. He was a keen man, a subtle man, but not a very profound\nman. He observed,\n\n\"I have heard something of this Greek widow and of her son and\ndaughter. They have (it seems to me as if I had heard this) friends\nnear the person of Augustus, or, at least, in the court. I can easily\ncause the girl to be so carried off that no rumor about the place of\nher residence will ever more sound among men. But the very mystery of\nit will sound, and that loudly; and her mother and brother will never\ncease to pierce the ears of Augustus with their cries. But, before I\nsay a word more, I wish to know two things--first, whether this youth\nPaulus is to be included in one of those great shows of gladiators\nwhich are rendering you, my C\u00e6sar, so beloved by the Roman people?\"\n\n\"Am I beloved, think you?\" asked Tiberius.\n\n\"The master-passion of the people is for the shows, and, above all,\nthe fights of the amphitheatre,\" answered Sejanus. \"Whoever has, for\na hundred years and more, obtained the mastery of the world, has thus\nwon the Romans; each succeeding dictator of the globe, from Caius\nMarius, and Sylla, and Pompey, and the invincible Caius Julius, and\nMark Antony, to our present happy Emperor Augustus, has surpassed his\npredecessors in the magnificence of these entertainments given to\npeople, populace, common legionaries, and pr\u00e6torians; and in exact\nproportion also, it is remarkable, has each surpassed his forerunners\nin permanent power, until that power has at last become nearly\nabsolute, nearly unlimited.\"\n\n\"You say true,\" replied Tiberius; \"and I excel all former examples in\nthe extent, splendor, and novelty of my shows. Augustus has abandoned\nthat department; but even when he was courting the Romans, he never\n_edited_ like me. People would now smile at the old-fashioned\nmeanness of the spectacles which he formerly made acceptable to them.\nHe is breaking very fast in health too, I fear, my Sejanus.\"\n\n\"He is, I fear, drawing toward his end,\" replied the commander of the\npr\u00e6torians.\n\n\"As to your question concerning this youth,\" resumed Tiberius,\n\"my object is partly to add a novel and curious feature to the\nfight--this strange sword-play. Yet, why should he not afterward be\nincluded in some great slaughter-match, three or four hundred a\nside, care being taken that he should be finished? We might first pit\nhim fairly against six or a dozen single antagonists in succession.\nIf he conquer them all, it will be unprecedentedly amusing; the\npeople will be in ecstasies, and then the victor can be made to\ndisappear in the general conflict. I shall thus have the undisturbed\nmanagement of his sister's education.\"\n\nGrave as a statue, Sejanus replied,\n\n\"He is a proud youth, an equestrian, a patrician, son of an eminent\nwarrior, nephew of one who once shared in the government of the\nwhole globe. Well, not being a slave, if he found himself in the\narena by virtue of having been violently seized and trepanned, I\nfirmly believe that, either before or after fighting, he would make a\nspeech, appealing to the justice of the emperor and the sympathy of\nthe people, not to say any thing about the soldiers.[23] The plan you\npropose, my C\u00e6sar, seems like furnishing him with an immense audience\nand a gigantic tribunal, before which to tell that pathetic story\nabout his father and the battle of Philippi, and those family estates\nwhich are now in the possession of the two beautiful ladies whose\nlitters have just preceded us on the road to Formi\u00e6.\"\n\nTiberius smiled, as with his head bent down he looked at the speaker,\nand thus he continued stooping, looking, and smiling for a moment or\ntwo, after which he said,\n\n\"The Tuscans are subtle, and you are the subtlest of Tuscans; what is\nbest?\"\n\nSejanus said, \"Let the girl first be carried away; let the mother and\nbrother break their hearts for her; then let the Lanista Thellus,\nwho is not known to be one of your men, but is supposed to hire\nout his gladiators on his own account, invite the youth to join\nhis _familia_,[24] or company, and when Paulus refuses, as he will\nrefuse, let Thellus say that he knows money would not bribe Paulus,\nbut that he has seen Paulus's sister; that he can guide him to her,\nif Paulus consents to fight in the next great forthcoming shows. And,\nin short, in order to make all this more specious, let Thellus have\nformed the acquaintance of the half-Greek family, mother, sister,\nbrother, before the girl is abducted, in order that Paulus may think\nhe speaks the truth when afterward saying that he has seen the sister\nand knows her, and can guide Paulus to where she is detained. If this\nplan be adopted, Paulus will fight in the arena of _his own accord_,\nand will make no speeches, no disturbance, but will disappear for\never in a decorous and legitimate manner.\"\n\n\"You are a man of immense merit, my Sejanus,\" replied the personage\nin gore-colored purple, \"and I will some day reward you more than\nI can do while merely the C\u00e6sar of an Augustus, whom may the gods\nprotect. The mother perhaps we can let alone, or she could be put\non board a corsair as an offering to some god, to procure me good\nfortune in other things. We shall see. Meanwhile, execute all\nthe rest with as little delay as the order and priority of the\nseveral matters, one before the other, will allow, and report to me\npunctually at every step.\"\n\nBeckoning to one of the troopers, who approached with the spare\nhorse, Tiberius now mounted. The soldier immediately withdrew again,\nand Tiberius said to the pr\u00e6torian commander, \"Be upon your guard\nwith Paterculus; he is doubtless devoted to me, but is a squeamish\nman; clever, indeed, too. Still there are clever fools, my Sejanus.\"\n\nThen waving his hand, he rode slowly away, but came to a halt at a\ndistance of twenty paces, and turned his horse's head round. Sejanus\nstrode quickly toward his master.\n\n\"You know, of course, that the Germans, encouraged by the slaughter\nof Varus and his legions, are swarming over the Julian Alps into the\nnorth-east of Italy from Illyricum.[25] How many legions are there\navailable to meet them?\"\n\n\"We have within reach, at this moment, twelve,\" said Sejanus,\n\"besides my pr\u00e6torians.\"\n\n\"Half the present forces of the whole empire,\" replied the other.\n\"Germanicus is to drive back the barbarians. He will become more\npopular than ever with the troops generally. But the pr\u00e6torians do\nnot care for him, I suppose?\"\n\n\"Even the pr\u00e6torians revere him,\" answered Sejanus.\n\n\"Why, how so? They have so little to do with him.\"\n\n\"They know a soldier--\" began Sejanus.\n\n\"And am not I a soldier?\" interrupted his master.\n\n\"They love you too, my C\u00e6sar, and dearly.\"\n\n\"Peace! Tell me exactly; what think the pr\u00e6torians of Germanicus?\"\n\n\"They foolishly think that, since the day when Caius Julius was\nmurdered, no such soldier--\"\n\n\"Enough! Foolishly, say you? Remember my instructions. _Vale!_\" And\nTiberius galloped north, his face ablaze with a brick-red flush\ndeeper than ordinary.\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nSejanus, when left alone, motioned to the two troopers. He who had\nbrought Tiberius his horse rode furiously after the C\u00e6sar; the\nother attended the general, who slowly mounted his own steed, and,\npursuing the same direction, began to trot leisurely toward Formi\u00e6.\nThe sun had gone down; the short twilight had passed away; clouds\nhad gathered, and the moon, not having yet risen, the night was very\nblack. In a few minutes Sejanus slackened his horse's pace from a\ntrot to a walk, and the orderly, as his military attendant would in\nmodern times be called, nearly rode against him in the dark. The man\nmade some natural excuse, and fell back again about thirty paces.\n\nSejanus hardly noticed him.\n\n\"At present,\" he muttered, when again alone, \"Tiberius, though a\nC\u00e6sar, needs me; Germanicus is C\u00e6sar too, and may become emperor.\nIf Germanicus wished it, right or wrong--if _per fas et nefas_--he\nwould win. He has much of the genius of Caius Julius and his defect\nof overtrustfulness; but none of his many vices. I doubt if he\nwill ever be emperor; he is too Athenian, and also too honorable,\ntoo disinterested. Somehow I feel, too, as if he were going to be\nassassinated; he believes readily in men. Tiberius has smaller\nabilities, worse qualities, and better chances. He will rule the\nworld, and \u00c6lius Sejanus will rule him.\"\n\nAs Sejanus said these things to himself in an indistinct murmur, of\nwhich none could have heard the precise words, a voice at his elbow\nastonished him. Said the voice,\n\n\"How far is it, illustrious general, to Formi\u00e6?\"\n\nThe pr\u00e6torian chief turned with a start, and saw that the speaker was\na mounted traveller, attended by two servants, also on horseback;\nbut there was so little light that he could not distinguish the\nstranger's features, nor more of his dress and appointments than that\nthey were not, as it seemed, Italian.\n\n\"About five thousand paces,\" he answered. \"However, there is no inn\nat Formi\u00e6. Some eight hundred paces from here is a good wayside\ntavern, (_mansio_.) But you call me general, for I wear the dress.\nYou do not, however, know me.\"\n\n\"Not know the distinguished chief of the pr\u00e6torians? Not know the\nhappy and unhappy, the fortunate and unfortunate Sejanus?\"\n\n\"Happy and unhappy,\" re\u00ebchoed the latter, \"fortunate and unfortunate!\nWhat means this jargon? You could use that language of every mortal.\nWhat you say you unsay.\"\n\nWhile thus replying, he endeavored to discern the dim features of his\nnew companion.\n\n\"Think you so?\" said the man. \"Then, pray, would it be the same\nif I were to say, for example, unhappy and happy, unfortunate and\nfortunate?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Alas! no.\"\n\n\"What!\" said Sejanus. \"The happiness is present, the good fortune is\npresent, but the misfortune and unhappiness are to come. Is this your\nmeaning?\"\n\n\"As I always say what I mean,\" rejoined the other, \"so I never\nexplain what I say.\"\n\n\"Then at least,\" observed Sejanus, with great haughtiness of tone and\nmanner, \"you will be good enough to say who you are. As the _Pr\u00e6tor\nPeregrinus_,[26] especially charged to look after foreigners, I\ndemand your name. Remember, friend, that six lictors, as well as\ntwenty thousand soldiers, obey Sejanus.\"\n\n\"I am the god Hermes,\" replied the other, riding suddenly ahead,\nfollowed by both his attendants.\n\nThe movement was so unexpected that the figure of the stranger had\nbecome almost indistinguishable in the obscurity, before Sejanus\nurged his fleet Numidian steed forward at a bound in pursuit.\n\n\"Take care,\" said a voice in his front, \"that your horse do not throw\nyou, impious man!\"\n\nAt the same time, the pr\u00e6torian leader heard something roll upon the\npaved road, and immediately a vivid flash blazed under his horse's\neyes, and a sharp report followed. Nearly thrown, indeed, he was,\nas the voice had warned him. When he had recovered his balance and\nquieted the startled beast he was riding, he halted to listen; but\nthe only sound he could now hear was that of the mounted trooper\ntrotting after him along the Appian Way. He waited for this man to\ncome up, and inquired what he had observed in the three strangers who\nhad previously passed him on the road.\n\n\"No stranger,\" said the man, \"had passed him; he had seen no one.\"\n\nThen Sejanus remembered what he had not at the moment adverted to,\nthat neither when first accosted by the stranger, nor afterward while\nthis person with his two attendants rode by his side, nor finally\nwhen they all galloped forward and were lost in the darkness, had any\nclatter of hoofs been audible.\n\nHe resumed his journey in silent thought, and soon arrived, without\nfurther adventure, at the large and famous post-house, standing in\nthose days four or five miles south of Formi\u00e6.\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nThe post house, or _mansio_,[27] to which allusion has been made,\nsituated about four or five miles south of Formi\u00e6, on the Appian\nroad, was a large, rambling, two-storied _brick_ house, capable of\naccommodating a vast number of travellers. It was not, therefore,\nmerely one of the many relay-houses where the imperial couriers, as\nwell as all who could produce a special warrant for the purpose,\nfrom a consul, or a pr\u00e6tor, or even a qu\u00e6stor, were allowed to\nobtain a change of horses; still less was it one of the low\ncanal-town taverns, whose keepers Horace abused; but it was a regular\ncountry inn, where man and beast found shelter for the apparently\ninfinitesimal charge of one _as_, (or not quite a penny,) and good\ncheer at proportionably moderate cost. It was well supplied from its\nown farm-yards, olive-groves, orchards, vineyards, pastures, and\ntilled fields, with vegetables, beef, mutton, poultry, geese, ducks,\nattagens, and other meats; eggs, wine, butter, cheese, milk, honey,\nbread, and fruit; a delicious plate of fish occasionally, an equally\ndelicious array of quail, produced upon table in a state aromatic and\nfrothy with their own fat juices.\n\nThis excellent and celebrated house of entertainment for belated or\nway-worn travellers, as well as for all who desired a change from the\nmonotony of their usual life, was kept by a remarkably worthy old\ncouple, formerly slaves, a freedman and freedwoman of the illustrious\n\u00c6milian family. The reader will have noticed that the youth whom it\nis necessary, we suppose, to acknowledge in the capacity of our hero,\nhas been called Paulus \u00c6milius Lepidus; that his father had borne\nthe same style; and likewise that his father's brother, the former\nsovereign magistrate or triumvir in the second and great triumvirate,\nwas named Marcus \u00c6milius Lepidus. In all these names, that of \u00c6milius\noccurs; and \u00c6milius was the noblest of the patronymics which once\nthis great family boasted. Now, theirs had been the house in which\nCrispus and Crispina, the good innkeeper and his wife, at present\nfree and prosperous, had been boy and girl slaves. The wife, indeed,\nhad been nurse to a son of Marcus Lepidus, the triumvir.\n\nThat son, some years before the date of our narrative, had been\nengaged in a conspiracy against Augustus; and the conspiracy having\nbeen discovered by M\u00e6cenas, the youth had been put to death. Marcus\n\u00c6milius Lepidus, the father, was exculpated from all knowledge of\nthis attempt on the part of his son, but had ever since lived in\nprofound retirement at a lonely sea-shore castle some twenty or\nthirty miles from Crispus's inn, near Monte Circello; a silent,\nbrooding, timid man, no longer very wealthy, entirely without weight\nin the society which he had abandoned, and without any visible\ninfluence in the political world, from which he had fled in some\nterror and immense disgust.\n\nAs Sejanus rode slowly up to the inn-door, a centurion came out of\nthe porch with the air of one who had been waiting for him. Saluting\nthe general, this officer said that he had been left behind by\nVelleius Paterculus to say that the sister of the youth whom Tiberius\nhad placed under the charge of Paterculus had fainted on the road;\nthat being unable to proceed, she and her mother had taken a lodging\nin the inn; that the youth had at once begged Paterculus to allow\nhim to remain instead of proceeding to Formi\u00e6, in order that he\nmight attend to his poor sister, for whose life he was alarmed,\ngiving his promise that he would faithfully report himself, and not\nattempt to escape; that Paterculus considered himself justified,\nunder the circumstances, in acceding to so natural a request;\nconsequently, that the young man was now in the inn, along with his\nmother and sister; and that he, the centurion, had been ordered to\nawait Sejanus's arrival, and inform him of what had occurred, so that\nhe might either confirm his subordinate's decision, or repair the\nmistake, if it was one, and cause the youth to go forward at once to\nFormi\u00e6 according to the letter of Tiberius's original command.\n\n\"It is well,\" said Sejanus, after a moment's reflection. \"This is not\nthe sort of lad who will break his word. Carthaginians, and rubbish\nlike them, knew long ago how to believe a Roman knight and patrician,\nand this lad seems to be of the Regulus breed. Does the C\u00e6sar\nhimself, however, know of this?\"\n\n\"I had no orders to tell him,\" answered the centurion; \"and if I had\nhad, it would have been difficult; he passed at full gallop a quarter\nof an hour ago, his head down, not so much as looking aside.\"\n\nSejanus then put the following question with a sneer,\n\n\"Has a god, or a stranger, with two attendants on horseback, passed\nthis way?\"\n\n\"No god, unless he be a god, and he had no attendants,\" said the\nastonished centurion.\n\n\"You have not seen three figures on horseback, nor a flash of bluish\nlight?\"\n\n\"I certainly thought I saw three figures on horseback, but I could\nnot be sure. It was on the farther side of the way, general, which is\nbroad,\" continued the man apologetically, \"and there was no sound\nof hoofs; my impression, too, was gone in a moment. As to a flash of\nbluish light, there are several flashes of red and white light inside\nthe inn kitchen, and they make the road outside all the darker; but\nthere has been no flash in the road.\"\n\n\"Good! now follow me.\"\n\nAnd Sejanus rode on in the direction of Formi\u00e6, the centurion and the\nsoldier behind him.\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nThe inn, it is well ascertained, never became a common institution\nin classic antiquity. It was utterly unknown in any thing like its\nmodern shape among the Greeks; one cause being that the literary\nGreeks gave less care to their roads and communications than the\nadministrating, fighting, conquering, and colonizing Romans always\ndid. Even among the Romans the army trusted to its city-like\nencampments from stage to stage. Centuries passed away, during which\nthe private traveller found few indeed, and far between, any better\npublic resting-houses along the magnificent and stupendous highways,\nwhose remains we still behold indestructible, from England to Asia\nMinor, than the half-day relay-posts, or _mutationes_. At these the\nwayfarer, by producing[28] his _diploma_ from the proper authorities,\nobtained a change of horses.\n\nTravelling, in short, was a thousand-fold less practised than it\nis among us; and those who did travel, or who deemed it likely\nthey ever should, trusted to that hospitality which necessity had\nmade universal, and the poetry of daily life had raised by repute\ninto one of the greatest virtues. Years before any member of your\nfamily, supposing you to belong to the age through which the events\nof this narrative are carrying and to carry us, years before any\nof your circle quitted your roof, you knew to what house, to what\nsmoky hearth in each foreign land, to what threshold in Spain, Gaul,\nSyria, Egypt, Greece, the wanderer would eventually resort. A certain\nfamily in each of these and other lands was your _hospes_, and you\nwere theirs; and very often you carried round your neck, attached\nto a gold or silver chain, a bit of elder or oak (_robur_) notched\nand marked by the natural breakage, the corresponding half of which\nhung day and night round the neck of some friend living thousands\nof miles away, beyond rivers, mountains, wild forests, and raging\nseas. These tokens were the cheap lodging-money of friendship. Very\noften they were interchanged and put on in boyhood, and not presented\ntill advanced age. He who had thrown the sacred symbol round the\ncurly head of his playmate on the banks of the Tiber, saw an old\nman with scanty white hair approach him, half a century afterward,\nat Alexandria, or Numantia, or Athens, and offer him a little bit\nof wood, the fracture? of which were found to fit into those of\na similar piece worn upon his own bosom. Or the son brought the\nfather's token; or a son received what a father had given. And the\nstranger was forthwith joyfully made welcome, and took rank among\ndear friends. Forthwith the bath and the supper introduced him to\nhis remote home amid foreign faces. To be once unfaithful to these\npledges, was to become irreparably infamous. The caitiff who thus\nsundered the lies of traditionary and necessity-caused and world-wide\nkindness, became an object of scorn and reprobation to all. It\nwas enough to mention of him,[29] _tesseram confregit hospitalem_,\n(\"_that man has broken his token-word of hospitality_;\") with that\nall was said. Traces of this touching custom appear to survive in\nsome of the ceremonials of rustic love, amid many a population\nignorant that the ancient Romans ever reigned over Europe.\n\nBut if inns, in year eleven, were not what they have been in medi\u00e6val\nand modern Europe, nevertheless a few existed even then, (_caupon\u00e6_;)\nand a more notable establishment of this kind never flourished in any\npart of the Roman empire than that to which our story has now brought\nus. It was the exception to manners then prevalent, and the presage\nof manners to come long afterward. It used to be commonly called the\n_Post-House of the Hundredth Milestone_, or, more briefly, _Crispus's\nInn_.\n\nThe public room of this place of entertainment was not unlike the\ncoffee-room of a good modern inn, except that it was necessarily far\nmore full of incident and interest, because the ancients were beyond\ncomparison more addicted to living in public than any modern nation\nhas ever been.\n\nAn Englishman who makes a similar remark of the French, in comparison\nwith his own countrymen, has only to remember that the modern French\nas much excel the ancient Romans in fondness for retirement and\nprivacy and domestic life as the English believe themselves to excel\nthe French in the same particular.\n\nAn inn did not trouble itself much with the _triclinium_, a chamber\nseldom used by its frequenters. Even the manners of the _triclinium_\nwere out of vogue here.\n\nIn Crispus's public room, for instance, there was one and only one\ntable arranged with couches around it, upon which some three or four\ncustomers, while eating and drinking, could recline according to the\nfashion adopted in the private houses of the rich and noble. All the\nother tables stood round the walls of the apartment, with benches\nand settees on each side, offering seats for the guests. The inner\nseats at these tables were generally preferred, for two reasons; the\noccupants saw all that passed in the room, and besides, had the wall,\nagainst which they could lean back.\n\nWhen Velleius Paterculus, having left Tiberius and Sejanus in the\nmeadows near the Liris, took charge of the pr\u00e6torian squadrons and of\nPaulus, he directed a Batavian trooper to dismount and give his horse\nto the prisoner. Paulus willingly sprung upon the big Flemish beast,\nand rode by the side of the obliging officer who had given him that\nconveyance. Thus they proceeded at an easy amble until they reached\nthe post-house, to the porch of which the noise of four thousand\nhoofs, suddenly approaching along the paved road, had brought a group\nof curious gazers. Among these was the landlord, Crispus himself.\n\nA halt, as the reader must have inferred from a former incident, was\noccasioned at the door by the intimation conveyed to Paterculus that\nPaulus's sister had fainted, that she and her mother intended to seek\na lodging at the inn, and that the mother and brother of the invalid\nwould both feel grateful to the commanding officer if he could permit\nPaulus, upon pledging his word not to make any attempt to escape, to\nremain there with them.\n\n\"As to the ladies,\" said the urbane literary soldier, \"I have neither\nthe wish nor any orders to interfere with their movements. But\nyou, young sir, what say you? Will you give me your word to regard\nyourself as being in my custody till I expressly release you? Will\nyou promise not to _abire_, _evadere_, _excedere_, or _erumpere_, as\nour friend Tully said?\"\n\n\"Tully! Who is that?\" asked our hero.\n\n\"What, you a half Greek and not know who Tully was! Is this the\nmanner in which Greek youths, or at least youths in Greece, are\neducated! Is it thus they are taught in Greece, to which we go\nourselves for education! In that Greece which has forbidden\ngladiatorial shows, and diminished the training of the body to have\nmore time for that of the intellect!\"\n\nPaulus blushed, seeing he must have betrayed some gross degree of\nrusticity, and answered,\n\n\"I know I am ignorant: I have been so much occupied in athletic\nsports. But I will give you the promise you ask, and keep it most\ntruly and faithfully.\"\n\n\"I will trust you, then. Go a little, my friend, into the athletic\nsports of the mind, which are precisely those Greece most cultivates.\nYou are of a great family now fallen down. The muscles of the arm,\nthe strength of the body, a blow from a cestus, never yet raised\nthat kind of burden off the ground. You fence astonishingly well--I\nnoted your parry just now; but the fence of the mind is every thing,\nbelieve me. By the way, I see the excellent Piso, whom you hammered\ndown after the parry, as one puts a full stop to a pretty sentence,\nis being carried into this same post-house.\"\n\n\"By your leave, illustrious sir,\" interposed the innkeeper, rather\nnervously, \"it is scarcely the custom, is it, to drop guests at\nCrispus's door, without first asking Crispus has he room for them?\nThe expected visit of the divine Augustus to the neighboring palace\nof the most excellent and valiant knight Mamurra, in Formi\u00e6, has\nchoked and strangled this poor house. There is no place where the\nmultitude of guests can lodge in the town, so they come hither, as\nto a spot at a convenient distance. Troops of players, troops of\ngladiators, troops of fortune-tellers, troops of geese, pigs, beeves,\nattagens, alive and dead, night and day, for the last week, with\nmighty personages from a distance, make the road noisy, I assure you,\neven after my house is full. I believe they would wish me to put up\nthe very oxen intended for sacrifice.\"\n\n\"Have you no chambers whatever vacant?\" asked Velleius.\n\n\"I did not say that, most excellent sir; vacant is one thing,\ndisengaged is another. I have received an express letter from\nBrundusium, to say that a certain queen out of the East, with her son\nand her train, are coming to pay their homage to the emperor: and\nhere we have already the servants of that Jew king, as they say, one\nKing Alexander, who wants his cause to be heard and his title settled\nby Augustus himself, and I am obliged to listen to loud outcries that\nhe, too, must have apartments.\"\n\nAt this moment, the travelling carriage carrying poor Agatha and her\nmother had been drawn nearly opposite to the porch, but a little in\nrear of the tribune, so as not to intercept his conversation with the\ninnkeeper. Paterculus threw a quick glance at the beautiful pallid\nface of the girl, and the anxious and frightened look of her mother.\n\n\"By what you tell me, worthy Crispus,\" he replied, \"you are so far\nfrom having your justly celebrated house full, that you are keeping\ntwo sets of apartments still vacant, in expectation, first, of some\nqueen from the east, with her son and train, and secondly, of this\nJewish king, one Alexander. Worthy Libertinus,[30] the fair damsel\nwhom you see so pale, is very sick, and has just swooned away from\nsheer fatigue. Will you turn such a daughter in such health, with her\nnoble mother, from your door? A queen can take care of herself, it\nseems to me. But what will become of these excellent Roman ladies,\n(your own countrywomen,) if you now bid them begone from your\nthreshold? You have assured me that they can obtain no shelter at\nall in Formi\u00e6. Look at the child! She seems likely to faint again.\nAre you to let this daughter of a Roman knight die in the fields,\nin order that you may have room for a barbarian queen? You have a\ndaughter of your own, I am told.\"\n\n\"Die!\" groaned the innkeeper: \"all this did not come into my mind,\nmost illustrious tribune and qu\u00e6stor. Come, little lady, let me help\nyou down. This lady and her daughter, sir, shall have the queen's own\napartments--may all the gods destroy me otherwise! Here, Crispina.\"\n\nVelleius Paterculus smiled, and having whispered some order to a\ncenturion, who remained behind in watch for Sejanus, the tribune\nwaved his hand, crying out _vale_ to whom it might concern, and rode\nforward with the pr\u00e6torians at a much smarter pace than they had come.\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nMeanwhile the innkeeper's wife, Crispina, had appeared, and had led\nAglais and her daughter through the group in the porch into the\nhouse, and passing by a little _zothecula_,[31] behind the curtain\nof which they heard the sound of flutes,[32] as the carvers carved,\nand many voices, loud and low, denoting the apartment called _dieta_\nor public room of the inn, they soon arrived at the _compluvium_, an\nopen space or small court, in the middle of which was a cistern, and\nin the middle of the cistern a splashing fountain. The cistern was\nrailed by a circular wooden balustrade, against which some creeping\nplants grew. This cistern was supplied from the sky; for the whole\nspace or court in which it lay was open and unroofed. Between the\ncircular wooden balustrade and the walls of the house was, on every\nside, a large quadrangular walk, lightly gravelled, and flashing back\nunder the lantern which Crispina carried, an almost metallic glint\nand sparkle. Of course this walk presented its quadrangular form on\nthe outer edge, next the house only; the inside, next the cistern,\nwas rounded away. This quadrangular walk was at one spot diminished\nin width by a staircase in the open air, (but under an awning,) which\nled up to the second story of the large brick building. Around the\nwhole _compluvium_, or court, the four inner faces of the inn, which\nhad four covered lights in sconces against the walls, were marked at\nirregular intervals by windows, some of which were mere holes, with\ntrap-doors (in every case open at present;) others, lattice-work,\nlike what, many centuries later, obtained the name of arabesque-work,\nhaving a curtain inside that could be drawn or undrawn. Others\nagain with perforated slides; others stretched with linen which oil\nhad rendered diaphanous; others fitted with thin scraped horn; one\nonly, a tolerably large window, with some kind of mineral panes more\ntranslucent than transparent--a _lapis laminata specularis_.\n\nAt the back, or west of the inn, an irregular oblong wing extended,\nwhich of course could not open upon this court, but had its own means\nof light and ventilation north and south respectively.\n\nCrispus had followed the group of women, and our friend Paulus had\nfollowed Crispus. In the _compluvium_, the innkeeper took the lantern\nfrom his wife, and begged Aglais and Agatha to follow him up the\nawning-covered staircase. As he began to ascend, it happened that\nCrispina, looking around, noticed Paulus, who had taken off his\nbroad-rimmed hat, under one of the sconces. No sooner had her eyes\nrested on him than she started violently, and grasped the balustrade\nas if she would have fallen but for that support.\n\n\"Who are you?\" said the woman.\n\n\"The brother of that young lady who is ill, and the son of the other\nlady.\"\n\n\"And you, too, must want lodgings?\"\n\n\"Certainly.\"\n\nThe woman seized his arm with a vehement grip, and gazed at him.\n\n\"Are you ill?\" said Paulus, \"or--or--out of your mind? Why do you\nclutch my arm and look at me in that fashion?\"\n\n\"Too young,\" said she, rather to herself than to him; \"besides, I saw\nthe last act with these eyes. Truly this is wonderful.\"\n\nThen, like one waking from a dream, she added, \"Well, if you want\nlodgings, you shall have them. You shall have the apartments of this\nking or pretender--the rooms prepared for the Jew Alexander. Come\nwith me at once.\" And she unfastened the lamp in the nearest sconce,\nand led Paulus up the staircase.\n\nThus the wanderers, Aglais and her daughter, had the queen's room,\nwith their Thracian slave Melana to wait upon them, while the\nprisoner Paulus had the king's, to which Crispina herself ordered old\nPhilip, the freedman, to carry his luggage.\n\nA few moments later, the innkeeper, who had returned to the more\npublic parts of the house to attend to his usual duties, met Philip\nladen with parcels in one of the passages, and asked him what he was\ndoing.\n\n\"Carrying young Master Paulus's things to his room.\"\n\n\"You can carry,\" said the innkeeper, \"whatever the ladies require\nto _their_ room; but your young master has no room at all, my man,\nin this house. And why? For the same reason that will compel you to\nsleep in one of the lofts over the stables. There is no space for him\nin the inn. You must make him as comfortable as you can in the hay,\njust like yourself.\"\n\n\"Humanity is something,\" muttered Crispus; \"but to make a queen\none's enemy on that score, without adding a king, where no humane\nconsideration intervenes at all, is enough for a poor innkeeper in\na single night. These _tetrarchs_ and rich barbarians can do a poor\nman an ugly turn. Who knows but he might complain of my house to\nthe emperor, or to one of the consuls, or the pr\u00e6tor, or even the\nqu\u00e6stor, and presto! every thing is seized, and I am banished to the\nTauric Chersonese, or to Tomos in Scythia, to drink mare's milk with\nthe poet Ovid.\"[33]\n\n\"Go on, freedman, with your luggage,\" here said a peremptory voice,\n\"and take it whither you have taken the rest.\"\n\n\"And in the name of all the gods, wife,\" cried Crispus, \"whither may\nthat be?\"\n\n\"Go on, freedman,\" she repeated; and then taking her husband aside,\nshe spoke to him in a low tone.\n\n\"Have you remarked this youth's face?\" she asked; \"and have you any\nidea who he is?\"\n\n\"I know not who any of them are,\" replied Crispus.\n\n\"Look at him then; for here he comes.\"\n\nCrispus looked, and as he looked his eyes grew bigger; and again he\nlooked until Paulus noticed it, and smiled.\n\n\"Do you know me?\" says he.\n\n\"No, illustrious sir.\"\n\n\"Alas! I am not illustrious, good landlord, (_institor_,) but hungry\nI am. And I believe we all are, except my poor sister, who is not\nvery strong, and for whom, by and by, I should like to procure the\nadvice of a physician.\"\n\n\"The poor young thing,\" said Crispina, \"is only tired with her\njourney; it is nothing. She will be well to-morrow. Supper you shall\nhave presently in the ante-chamber of your mother's apartments; and\nyour freedman and the female slave shall be cared for after they have\nwaited upon you.\"\n\n\"All this is easy and shall be seen to forthwith,\" added Crispus;\n\"but the doctor for your dear sister, _per omnes deos_, where shall\nwe find him?\"\n\n\"Understand,\" said Paulus, \"my sister is not in immediate danger,\nsuch as would justify calling in any empiric at once rather than\nnobody. She has been ailing for some time, and it is of no use to\nsend for the first common stupid practitioner that may be in the way.\nIs there not some famous doctor procurable in Italy?\"\n\n\"The most famous in Italy is a Greek physician not five thousand\npaces from here at this moment,\" said the landlord. \"But he would\nnot come to every body; he is Tiberius C\u00e6sar's own doctor.\"\n\n\"You mean Charicles,\" replied Paulus; \"I almost think he would come;\nmy mother is a Greek lady, and he will surely be glad to oblige his\ncountrywoman.\"\n\n\"Then write you a note to him,\" said Crispina, \"and I will send it\ninstantly.\"\n\nPaulus thanked her, said he would, and withdrew.\n\nWhen he proposed to his mother to dispatch this message to Charicles,\nshe hesitated much. Agatha was better, he found her in comparatively\ngood spirits. It would do to send for the doctor next day. An urgent\nsummons conveyed at night to the palace or residence of the C\u00e6sar,\nwhere Charicles would probably of necessity be, would cause Tiberius\nto inquire into the matter, and would again draw his attention, and\ndraw it still more persistently to them. He had already intimated\nthat he would order his physician to attend Agatha. They did not\ndesire to establish very close relations with the man in black purple.\n\nIt is wonderful even how that very intimation from Tiberius had\ndiminished both mother's and daughter's anxiety to consult the\ncelebrated practitioner, to whose advice and assistance they had\npreviously looked forward. There were parties in the court and cabals\nin the political world; and among them, as it happened, was the Greek\nfaction, at the head of which his ill-wishers alleged Germanicus to\nbe. Gr\u00e6culus, or Greek coxcomb, was one of the names flung at him\nas a reproach by his enemies. What the Scotch, and subsequently the\nIrish interest may have been at various times in modern England,\nthat the Greek interest was then in Roman society. Of all men, he\nwho most needed to be cautious and discreet in such a case was an\nadventurer who, being himself a Greek, owed to his personal merit\nand abilities the position of emolument and credit which he enjoyed;\nwho was tolerated for his individual qualities as a foreigner, but\nwho, if suspected of using professional opportunities as a political\npartisan, would be of no service to others, and would merely lose his\nown advantages.\n\n\"Let Tiberius send Charicles to us,\" continued Aglais; \"and our\ncountryman and friend may be of service to us, even in the suit which\nwe have to urge at court. But were we now to show the C\u00e6sar that we\nconfide in Charicles, we should only injure our countryman and not\nbenefit ourselves.\"\n\n\"How injure him?\"\n\n\"Thus,\" replied the Greek lady. \"If your claim for the restitution of\nyour father's estates be not granted for justice sake, I must make\ninterest in order that it may be granted for favor's sake. As a Greek\nI shall be likely to induce no powerful person to take our claims\nunder his protection except Germanicus, the friend of Athenians.\nNow, it is a fact which I have learned for certain that Tiberius\nhates Germanicus, whom he regards as his rival; and that whoever\nis patronized by Germanicus, him Tiberius would gladly destroy.\nBehold us in a short while the clients and retainers of this same\nGermanicus, and let Tiberius then remember that his own physician has\nbeen, and continues to be, intimate and confidential with this brood\nof the Germanicus faction. Would not Charicles be damaged, perhaps\nendangered? But if we wait until the C\u00e6sar himself sends us the\ndoctor, as he said he would, we may then gain by it, and our friend\nnot lose.\"\n\n\"Mother, you are indeed Greek,\" said Paulus, laughing; \"and as\nAgatha is in no actual danger, be it as you say. Do you know,\nsister, there is nothing the matter with you but fatigue and fright?\nI am sure of it. You will recover rapidly now, with rest, peace, and\nsafety.\"\n\n\"Mother,\" says Agatha, smiling, \"we have forgotten, amid all this\nconsultation about my health, to tell brother the curious discovery I\nhave just made.\"\n\n\"True,\" said Aglais; \"your sister has explored a very odd fact\nindeed.\"\n\n\"Why, brother,\" says Agatha, \"we found you in this large\nsitting-room, when we entered, though we had left you below-stairs,\nnear the cistern.\"\n\n\"Found me?\" said Paulus.\n\n\"Yes,\" added his mother; \"found you concealed in this room by\nTiberius.\"\n\n\"Concealed by Tiberius?\"\n\n\"I will not leave you in suspense any longer,\" said the young girl,\nlaughing. \"Look here.\" And she led him to a table behind the bench\non which she had been sitting, and directed his attention to a bust,\nor rather a head of Tiberius, modelled or moulded in some sort of\npottery.\n\n\"That,\" said she, \"when I first sat down, stood upon yonder table\nopposite to us. I recognized the face of the man who had spoken to\nme under the chestnut-trees, just before you assisted me back to the\ncarriage. I abhor the wicked countenance; and not choosing to let it\nstare at me like a dream where it was, I rose and went to remove it\nto the stand where you now see it, behind my bench. Well, only think!\nI took it, so, with my hands, one under each ear, and lifted it;\nwhen, lo! it came away, and left your own dear face looking at us,\nthus!\"\n\nAs she spoke, she again lifted the _terra cotta_ face, and beneath\nit a much smaller and more elegant piece of sculpture in white\nmarble was disclosed, presenting the lineaments and image of Paulus\nhimself. He started, and then his sister replaced the mask of\nTiberius with a laugh.\n\n\"Was I not speaking true when I said that Tiberius had concealed you\nhere?\" said his mother.\n\n\"The C\u00e6sar, very true, has me in his head, and well secured,\" said\nPaulus.\n\nAt that moment the door opened, and Crispina entered to ask whether\nthe letter for the physician was ready. They told her they had\nchanged their minds, and would not, at least that night, send any\nletter, Agatha felt and looked so much better.\n\n\"Then I will at once order your supper to be brought,\" said Crispina;\n\"and as you are evidently people of distinction, would you like music\nwhile the meats are carved?\"\n\n\"Certainly not,\" said the Greek lady.\n\n\"Not a carver neither, mother?\" interposed Agatha; and, turning to\nthe hostess, she begged that they might be treated as quietly and let\nalone as much as it was possible.\n\n\"That is indeed our desire,\" said the Greek lady.\n\n\"In that case,\" replied the hostess, \"my own daughter, Benigna, shall\nattend to you. Nobody shall trouble you. You are in the rear or west\nwing of the house, far away from all the noise of our customers, who\nare sometimes, I confess, sufficiently uproarious. But Crispus is not\nafraid of them. When to-morrow's sun rises, you will be glad to find\nwhat a beautiful country extends beneath your windows, even to the\nwaters of the Tyrrhenian Sea. You will behold, first, a garden and\nbee-hive; beyond these are orchards; beyond them fields of husbandry\nand pleasant pasture lands, with not a human figure to be seen except\nknots and dots of work-people, a few shepherds, and perhaps an angler\namusing himself on the banks of the Liris in the distance.\"\n\n\"Oh!\" said Agatha, \"I wish soon to go to sleep, that we may set out\nquickly toward that beautiful country to-morrow morning.\"\n\n\"Will you not like a little bit of something very nice for supper\nfirst, my precious little lady?\" quoth the good hostess; \"and that\nwill make you sleep all the better, and from the moment when you\nclose your pretty eyes in rest and comfort under poor Crispina's\nroof, to the moment when you open them upon those lovely scenes,\nyou won't be able to count one, two, three--but just only one--and\npresto! there's to-morrow morning for you!\"\n\nAgatha declared that this was very nice; and that supper would be\nnice; and that every thing was comfortable; the rooms particularly so.\n\n\"Then a delicious little supper shall be got ready at once,\" said\nCrispina. \"I'll call my brisk Benigna to help me.\"\n\nBefore quitting the room, however, the landlady, whose glance had\nrested chiefly upon Paulus during the conversation, threw up her\nhands a little way. She then composed herself, and addressing Aglais,\nasked,\n\n\"What names, lady, shall I put down in my book?\"\n\n\"I will tell you when you return,\" replied Aglais; and the landlady\nretired.\n\n    TO BE CONTINUED.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[22] Suetonius, Aug. 39. The forum, where gladiators had often bled,\nwas becoming less and less used for that purpose.\n\n[23] It is well known that Trajan exhibited shows in which ten\nthousand gladiators fought, but this monstrous development of cruelty\ncame long after our date.\n\n[24] A school of gladiators. Suet Jul. 26; Aug. 42; Tacit. Hist. ii.\n88.\n\n[25] This German expedition took the same direction as that of the\nAustrian armies which endeavored to dislodge Bonaparte from the siege\nof Mantua, and came pouring down both sides of Lake Guarda.\n\n[26] Cic. Fam. xiii. 59; Dion. iii. 22; C\u00e6sar. Bell. Cir. iii. 20.\n\n[27] The malignant innkeepers mentioned by Horace, \"Sat. lib. 1,\nSat. 5,\" kept a low class of houses in comparison with this notable\nhostelry.\n\n[28] Pliny, Ep. x. 14, 121.\n\n[29] Cic. Qu. Fr. ii. 14; Plautus, P\u0153n. v. 1, 22, 2, 92; Cist. 2,\n1, 27.\n\n[30] _Libertus_, freedman of such or such a family; _libertinus_,\nfreedman in general, or son of one.\n\n[31] _Zothecula_, a small apartment, one side of which was formed by\na curtain. Pliny, Epis. ii. 17; v. 6. Suetonius, Claud. 10.\n\n[32] _Flutes_, etc. Juvenal v. 121; xi. 137.\n\n[33] Something in this language may seem out of keeping. I would\ntherefore remind the reader that the most learned, accomplished,\nstudious, and highly-cultivated minds among the Romans were very\nfrequently found in the class of slaves and freedmen.\n\n\n\n\nA MAY CAROL.\n\n\n        How many a lonely hermit maid\n          Hath brightened like a dawn-touched isle\n        When--on her breast in vision laid--\n          That Babe hath lit her with his smile!\n\n        How many an ag\u00e8d saint hath felt,\n          So graced, a second spring renew\n        Her wintry breast; with Anna knelt,\n          And trembled like the matin dew!\n\n        How oft the unbending monk, no thrall\n          In youth of mortal smiles or tears,\n        Hath felt that Infant's touch through all\n          The armor of his hundred years!\n\n    But Mary's was no transient bliss;\n      Nor hers a vision's phantom gleam;\n    The hourly need, the voice, the kiss--\n      That child was hers! 'Twas not a dream!\n\n        At morning hers, and when the sheen\n          Of moonrise crept the cliffs along;\n        In silence hers, and hers between\n          The pulses of the night-bird's song.\n\n        And as the Child, the love. Its growth\n          Was, hour by hour, a growth in grace;\n        That Child was God; and love for both\n          Advanced perforce with equal pace.\n\n                                             AUBREY DE VERE.\n\n\n\n\nSIR JOHN MAUNDEVILLE.\n\n\n\"Of Paradise I cannot speak properly, for I was not there. It is\nfar beyond, and I repent not going there; but I was not worthy.\" So\nwrote, more than five hundred years ago, an honest English knight who\nhad spent some ten years journeying through that \"most worthy land,\nmost excellent and lady and sovereign of all other lands,\" which was\n\"blessed and hallowed with the most precious body and blood of our\nLord Jesus Christ;\" visiting portions of Africa and Asia; and picking\nup from all accessible sources legends and marvels, and scraps\nof the geography and history of distant countries. For something\nlike two centuries the travels of Sir John Maundeville enjoyed a\ntremendous popularity; and though time can hardly be said to have\nimproved the good gentleman's reputation for veracity and judgment,\nit has perhaps heightened rather than diminished the interest of his\nnarrative. Alas! we can never know such travellers again. Men who go\nto Palestine in a steamboat, and are whirled by locomotives into the\nvery presence of the Sphinx, bring us back no wonderful stories of\nthe mysterious East, with its dragons and enchanters, and its sacred\nplaces miraculously barred against profane footsteps. Travel has no\nmysteries now. What is the earthly paradise but a Turkish pashalic?\nWhat is Prester John but a petty negro chieftain? And for dragons and\nchim\u00e6ras dire, has not any good museum of natural history specimens\nof them all, nicely stuffed and labelled, or bottled in alcohol? In\nthe days of Sir John, however, wonders were plenty; and if he did not\nsee very many himself, he heard of men who had seen no end of them,\nand he described them all the same. It was from hearsay, and not\nfrom personal observation, that he learned of the Lady of the Land,\nin the island of Cos, then called Lango. This wonderful lady was the\ndaughter of Ypocras or Hippocrates, in form and likeness of a great\ndragon which is a hundred fathoms in length, \"as they say,\" adds Sir\nJohn, \"for I have not seen her.\" She lies in an old castle in a cave,\nappearing twice or thrice in a year, and condemned \"by a goddess\nnamed Diana\" to remain in that horrible shape until a knight shall\ncome and kiss her on the mouth; then she shall resume her natural\nform, and the knight shall marry her and be lord of the isles. Many\nhave tempted the adventure, but fled in affright when they have seen\nher. And every knight who once looks upon her and flees, must die\nanon.\n\nAt Ephesus the traveller beheld the tomb of St. John the Evangelist,\nand heard the familiar story that the apostle had entered the\nsepulchre alive, and was still living, in accordance with the saying\nof our Lord, \"So I will have him to remain till I come, what is that\nto thee?\" \"And men may see there the earth of the tomb many times\nopenly stir and move, as though there were living things under.\"\nTo say nothing else of this story, it is not fully consistent with\nSir John's other statement, that the tomb contains nothing but\nmanna, \"which is called angels' meat,\" for the body was translated\nto paradise. Quite as great are the wonders of Joppa, \"which is one\nof the oldest towns in the world; for it was founded _before Noah's\nflood_.\" Strangely confusing the legend of Perseus and Andromeda,\nour traveller relates that in a rock near Joppa may still be seen\nmarks of the iron chains \"wherewith Andromeda, a great giant, was\nbound and put in prison before Noah's flood; a rib of whose side,\nwhich is forty feet long, is still shown.\" Sir John spent a long\ntime in the service of the sultan of Egypt, where he seems to have\nanticipated modern researches into the source of the Nile; for he\nconfidently assures us that it rises in the garden of Eden, and after\ndescending upon earth, flows through many extensive countries under\nground, coming out beneath a high hill called Alothe, between India\nand Ethiopia, and encircling the whole of Ethiopia and Mauritania,\nbefore it enters the land of Egypt. To the best of our belief, the\ntravels of Dr. Livingstone have not fully confirmed this interesting\ngeographical statement. The sultan dwells at a city called Babylon,\nwhich is not, however, the great Babylon where the diversity of\nlanguages was first made by the miracle of God. That Babylon is\nforty days' journey across the desert, in the territory of the king\nof Persia. The Tower of Babel was ten miles square, and included\nmany mansions and dwellings; \"but it is full long since any man dare\napproach to the tower, for it is all desert, and full of dragons\nand great serpents, and infested by divers venomous beasts.\" Sir\nJohn, therefore, is probably not responsible for the extraordinary\nmeasurement of its walls. Whether his account of the phoenix is based\nupon his personal observations, we are not told; but it is highly\ninteresting. There is only one phoenix in the world. It is a very\nhandsome and glorious bird, with a yellow neck, blue beak, purple\nwings, and a red and yellow tail, and may often be seen flying about\nthe country. It lives five hundred years, and at the end of that\ntime comes to burn itself on the altar of the temple of Heliopolis,\nwhere the priests prepare for the occasion a fire of spices and\nsulphur. The next day they find in the ashes a worm. On the second\nday the worm becomes a live and perfect bird; and the third day it\nflies away. A plenty of fine things, indeed, Egypt could boast of\nin those days, far before any thing she has now. There were gardens\nbearing fruit seven times a year. There were the apples of paradise,\nwhich, cut them how you would, or as often as you would, always\nshowed in the middle the figure of the holy cross. There was the\napple-tree of Adam, whose fruit invariably had a mouthful bitten out\nof one side. There is a field containing seven wells, which the child\nJesus made with one of his feet while at play with his companions.\nThere are the granaries in which Joseph stored corn for the season of\nfamine, (probably the Pyramids.) And passing out of Egypt across the\ndesert of Arabia, Sir John tells of the wonderful monastery on Mount\nSinai, whither the ravens, crows, and choughs and other fowls of that\ncountry, assembling in great flocks, come every year on pilgrimage to\nthe tomb of St. Catharine, each bringing a branch of bays or olive,\nso that from these offerings the monks have enough to keep themselves\nconstantly supplied with oil. There are no such foul venomous beasts\nas flies, toads, lizards, lice, or fleas in this monastery; for\nonce upon a time, when the vermin had become too thick there to be\nendured, the good brethren made preparations to move away, whereupon\nour Lady commanded them to remain and no pest of that sort should\never again come near them. On Mount Mamre, near Hebron, Sir John saw\nan oak-tree which had been standing since the creation of the world.\nOaks nowadays don't live to such a great age. This tree had borne\nno leaves since the crucifixion, (when all the trees in the world\nwithered away,) but it had still so much virtue that a scrap of it\nhealed the falling-sickness, and prevented founder in horses.\n\nArmed with a letter under the sultan's great seal, Sir John went\nto Jerusalem, and was admitted to all the holy shrines from which\nChristians and Jews were usually excluded. He saw, or believed he\nsaw, the spots sanctified by almost all the great events narrated in\nthe Gospel; and though his credulity, as may be inferred from what\nwe have already seen of his narrative, often got the better of his\njudgment, his piety, at any rate, deserves our genuine respect. We\npass over his legends of this holy city, some of them poetical, some\nmerely grotesque, and some really sanctioned by the general voice\nof the church, and go with him eastward to the valley of Jordan and\nthe Dead Sea. Of this mysterious body of water he mentions that it\ncasts out every day \"a thing that is called asphalt in pieces as\nlarge as a horse,\" and neither man, nor beast, nor any thing that\nhath life may die in that sea, which hath been proved many times by\nthe experiment of criminals condemned to death who have been left\ntherein three or four days, and yet taken out alive. If any man cast\niron therein, it will float; but a feather will sink to the bottom;\n\"and these things,\" truly remarks Sir John, \"are contrary to nature.\"\nNot more so, perhaps, than an incident of which he speaks at the city\nof Tiberias. In that city an unbeliever hurled a burning dart at our\nLord, \"and the head smote into the earth, and waxed green, and it\ngrew to a great tree; and it grows still, and the bark thereof is\nall like coals.\" Then, near Damascus there is a church, and behind\nthe altar, in the wall, \"a table of black wood on which was formerly\npainted an image of our Lady which turns into flesh; but now the\nimage appears but little.\" As a compensation, however, for its loss,\na certain wonderful oil, as Sir John assures us, drops continually\nfrom the wood and heals many kinds of sickness, and if any one keep\nit cleanly for a year, after that year it turns to flesh and blood.\nIn this same region of marvels he tells us of a river which runs only\non Saturday, and stands still all the rest of the week, and another\nwhich freezes wonderfully fast every night, and is clear of ice in\nthe morning. These rivers are not known nowadays, or at any rate must\nhave changed their habits.\n\nAfter finishing the description of the Holy Land and Babylon, and\nreporting a conversation with the sultan, in which the vices of\nthe Christians, such as drinking at taverns, and fighting, and\nperpetually changing the fashion of their clothes, were sharply\nsatirized, and giving a synopsis of the Mohammedan creed, which we\nfear is not altogether authentic, our worthy traveller adds that now\nis the time, if it please us, to tell of the borders, and isles,\nand divers beasts, and of various peoples beyond these borders.\nAccepting his invitation, we bear him company first to the land of\nLybia, which must have been a most uncomfortable region in those\ndays, for the sea there was higher than the land, and the sun was so\nhot that the waters were always boiling. Why the country was not,\ntherefore, soused in a steaming, hissing flood, we do not know; 'Sir\nJohn himself evidently thinks it strange. In Little Ermony which we\ntake to be Armenia, he found something almost equally strange. That\nwas the Castle of the Sparrow-hawk, where a sparrow-hawk perpetually\nsat upon a fair perch and a fair lady of fairie guarded it. Whoever\nwill watch the bird seven days and seven nights without company and\nwithout sleep, shall be granted by the fairy the first earthly wish\nthat he shall wish; but if sleep overcome him, he will never more\nbe seen of men. This, adds the careful traveller, hath been proved\noftentimes, and he mentions several persons who performed the long\ntask and got their wishes. Mount Ararat is another marvellous feature\nin this wonderful region; for it is seven miles high, and Noah's\nark still rests upon it, and in clear weather may be seen afar off.\nSome men say that they have been up and touched the ark, and even\nput their fingers in the parts where the devil went out when Noah\nsaid \"Benedicite,\" (unfortunately we do not know the legend to which\nthis refers;) but our traveller warns us not to believe such things,\nbecause they are not true! No man ever got up the mountain except one\ngood monk; and he was miraculously favored, and brought down with\nhim a plank which is still preserved in the monastery at the foot\nof the mountain. It is inexpressibly gratifying to observe that Sir\nJohn did not accept all the stories that were told him, but exercised\na little judicious discrimination; and we shall therefore pay more\nrespectful attention to the extraordinary things he tells us about\nthe diamonds of India. They are found most commonly, he says, upon\nrocks of the sea, or else in connection with gold. They grow many\ntogether, male and female, and are nourished by the dew of heaven,\nso that they engender and bring forth small children that multiply\nand grow all the year. \"I have oftentimes tried the experiment,\" he\ncontinues, \"that if a man keep them with a little of the rock, and\nwet them with May-dew often, they shall grow every year, and the\nsmall will grow great.... And a man should carry the diamond on his\nleft side, for it is of greater virtue than on the right side; for\nthe strength of their growing is toward the north, that is the left\nside of the world; and the left part of man is, when he turns his\nface toward the east.\" Sir John was not by any means singular in his\nviews of the nature of diamonds in his day, however much he may be at\nvariance with modern authorities; and he is only repeating a popular\nsuperstition of the middle ages when he ascribes many wonderful\nvirtues to this gem, which he says preserves the wearer from poison,\nand wild beasts, and the assaults of enemies, and the machinations\nof enchanters, gives courage to the heart and strength to the limbs,\nheals lunatics, and casts out devils. But it loses its virtue by sin.\n\nFrom stories of eels thirty feet long, and people of an evil color,\ngreen and yellow, and the well of Perpetual Youth, from which Sir\nJohn avers that he drank, and rats as great as dogs, which they take\nwith huge mastiffs, because the cats feel unable to manage them,\nwe pass to a passage of a very different kind, which, considering\nthe time when it was written, is certainly curious. One hundred\nand seventy years before the time of Columbus we find Sir John\nMaundeville arguing that \"the land and sea are of round shape,\nbecause the part of the firmament appears in one country which is\nnot seen in another country,\" and predicting that \"if a man found\npassages by ships, he might go by ship all round the world, above\nand beneath.\" A rather elaborate essay is devoted to an estimate\nof the size of the world, and to the story of an Englishman--name\nunknown--who sailed around it once and never knew it; but coming to a\ncountry where the people spoke his own language, was so much amazed\nthat he turned around and sailed all the way back again. After this,\nSir John gets back without unnecessary delay to the rosy realms of\neastern fable.\n\nWe next find him in Java and among the isles of the Indian Ocean,\nwhere he tells us of rich kings, and splendid palaces where all the\nsteps are of gold and silver alternately, and the walls covered\nwith plates of precious metals, and halls and chambers paved with\nthe same; of trees which bear meal, and honey, and wine, and deadly\npoison wherewith the Jews once tried to poison all Christendom; of\nsnails so big that many persons may lodge in their shells; of men who\nfeed upon serpents, so that they speak naught, but hiss as serpents\ndo; of men and women who have dogs' heads; and of a mountain in the\nisland of Silha where Adam and Eve went and cried for one hundred\nyears after they were driven out of paradise--cried so hard that\ntheir tears formed a deep lake, which may be seen there to this day,\nif any body doubts the story. He tells of giants having only one\neye, which is in the middle of the forehead; people of foul stature\nand cursed nature who have no heads, but their eyes are in their\nshoulders; people who have neither noses nor mouths; people who have\nmouths so big that when they sleep in the sun they cover the whole\nface with the upper lip; people who have ears hanging down to their\nknees; people who have horses' feet; and feathered men who leap from\ntree to tree. Passing to India and China, Sir John describes the fair\nand fruitful land of Albany, where there are no poor people, and the\nmen are of very pale complexion and have only about fifty hairs in\ntheir beards. He speaks of having personally visited these regions;\nbut we are sorry to say that his narrative is palpably borrowed in\nmany places from Pliny and Marco Polo. As the great town called\nJamchay he seems to have found the prototype of Delmonico, and he\ngives an impressive account of the good custom that when a man will\nmake a feast for his friends he goes to the host of a certain kind of\ninn, and says to him, \"Array for me to-morrow a good dinner for so\nmany people;\" and says also, \"Thus much will I spend, and no more.\"\nAnd Sir John adds, \"Anon the host arrays for him, so fair, and so\nwell, and so honestly that there shall lack nothing.\" Of the great\nChan of Cathay, (Emperor of China,) and his wealth and magnificence,\nSir John writes at considerable length, but with an evident\nexpectation that men will not believe him. \"My fellows and I,\" he\nsays, \"with our yeomen, served this emperor, and were his soldiers\nfifteen months against the King of Mancy, who was at war with him,\nbecause we had great desire to see his nobleness and the estate of\nhis court, and all his government, to know if it were such as we\nheard say.\" How many his fellows were, or what route they followed\nin their eastern wanderings, we cannot tell. Sir John gives us no\nparticulars; we only learn that he must have combined in curious\nperfection the characters of a pilgrim and a military adventurer; and\nhow much of the world he saw, how much he described from hearsay,\nwe can only determine from the internal evidence of his book. There\nis no reasonable doubt that he did spend some time in the dominions\nof the great chan; for his description of the country, the manners\nof the people, the magnificence of the sovereign and the ceremonies\nof the court, though exaggerated sometimes to the heights of the\ngrotesque, if not of the sublime, keeps near enough to the probable\ntruth. We cannot say that we are glad of it; for Sir John is vastly\nmore entertaining when he does not know what he is talking about.\n\nHe skips about with the most charming vivacity from Tartary to\nPersia, to Asia Minor, and back again to India, and sometimes it is\ncertain that he tells us of wonders which he did not see with his\nown eyes. In Georgia, for instance, there is a marvellous province\ncalled Hanyson, where once upon a time a cursed Persian king named\nSaures overtook a multitude of Christians fleeing from persecution.\nThe fugitives prayed to God for deliverance, and lo! a great cloud\narose, covering the king's host with darkness, out of which they\ncould not pass, and so the whole province remains dark to this hour,\nand no light shall shine there and no man shall enter it till the\nday of judgment. Voices may sometimes be heard coming out of the\ndarkness, and the neighing of horses and crowing of cocks, and a\ngreat river issues from it bearing tokens of human life. Somewhat\nsimilar to this story is the account of a region on the borders of\nthe Caspian Sea, where \"the Jews of ten lineages who are called Gog\nand Magog\"--namely, the lost tribes--have been shut up for ages\nbehind impassable mountains. The legend is that King Alexander drove\nthem in there, and prevailed upon his gods to close the mountains\nwith immense stone gates. In the days of Antichrist a fox shall\nburrow through where Alexander made the gates, and the imprisoned\nJews, who have never seen a fox, shall hunt him, and following the\nburrow break down the gates and come out into the world. Then they\nshall make great slaughter of the Christians; wherefore Jews all over\nthe world learn the Hebrew language, so that in that day the ten\ntribes may recognize them by their speech. Somewhere in this part\nof the world Sir John saw and tasted \"a kind of fruit like gourds,\nwhich, when they are ripe, men cut in two, and find within a little\nbeast, in flesh, bone, and blood, as though it were a little lamb\nwithout wool.\" Both the fruit and the beast are good to eat. Sir\nJohn confesses that this was a great marvel; but not to be outdone,\nhe told his entertainers that in England there were trees bearing\na fruit which becomes flying birds, right good for man's meat,\nwhereat, he says, his listeners had also great marvel, and some even\nthought the thing impossible. Sir John, however, was not purposely\ncramming the Persians; he only repeated the popular fable of the\nbarnacle-goose, which was anciently believed to be hatched from the\nbarnacles growing on ships' bottoms and logs of wood, just as an\nordinary goose is hatched from an egg.\n\nThe great mystery and marvel of the age in which Sir John Maundeville\nwrote was the Christian empire of Prester John, supposed to extend\nover central India, and to be in reality a vast island, separated\nfrom other countries by great branching rivers which flowed out\nof Paradise. Many a traveller went in search of this mythical and\nmagnificent potentate; many a doubtful story of his power and designs\nwas brought back to Europe; and even a pretended letter from his\nmajesty to the pope was widely published in Latin, French, and other\nlanguages. Except the Chan of Cathay, there was no other monarch in\nthe world so great and so rich. The chan, therefore, always married\nthe daughter of Prester John, and Prester John always married\nthe daughter of the chan, which naturally made confusion in the\ngenealogical records of the reigning families. Of course, Sir John\nMaundeville was too gallant a traveller to go home without a full\naccount of the empire of Prester John. He says he went to it, and\nthe catalogue of things he saw and the history of things he did are\nwonderful enough to satisfy the most exacting reader. As it is quite\ncertain that no potentate ever existed who bore even a resemblence\nto the Prester John of medi\u00e6val legend, it is more than usually\ndifficult to estimate the honesty of Sir John in these particular\nportions of his narrative, wherein fable and superstition seem to\nreach their climax. The glories of the Indian court are almost beyond\nenumeration. The precious stones are so large that plates, dishes,\nand cups are made of them. There is a river, rising in paradise,\nwhose waves are entirely of jewels, without a drop of water, and it\nruns only three days of the week, flowing to the Gravelly Sea, where\nit is lost from sight. The Gravelly Sea has billows of sand without\na drop of water. It ebbs and flows in great waves, like other seas,\nand contains very good fish; but, adds Sir John, \"men cannot pass\nit in ships.\" The emperor lives in unspeakably gorgeous state, in a\npalace of gems and gold, and upon the top of the highest tower of\nthe palace are two huge carbuncles which give great light by night\nto all people. He is served by seven kings, seventy-two dukes, and\nthree hundred and sixty earls. Every day he entertains at dinner\ntwelve archbishops and twenty bishops; and all the archbishops,\nbishops, and abbots in the country are kings. There is a gorgeous\nartificial paradise in the dominions of Prester John, the legend of\nwhich seems to have been used by Tasso long after Sir John's time\nin his famous description of the enchanted gardens of Armida. In\nthis false Paradise \"a rich man named Gatholonabes, who was full of\ntricks and subtle deceits,\" had placed the fairest trees, and fruits,\nand flowers, constructed the most beautiful halls and palaces,\nall painted with gold and azure, with youths and fair damsels\nattired like angels, birds which \"sung full delectably and moved by\ncraft,\" and artificial rivers of milk, and wine, and honey. When he\nhad brought good and noble knights into this place, they were so\ncaptivated by the charming sights and sounds, so deceived by the fair\nspeeches of Gatholonabes, and so inflamed with a certain drink which\nhe gave them to drink that they became his willing henchmen, and at\nhis bidding went out from the mountain where this garden stood and\nslew whomsoever the impostor marked out for slaughter. To the knights\nwho lost their lives in his service, he promised a still fairer\nParadise and still more enticing pleasures. Our readers will not\nfail to trace the resemblance between this fable and the history of\nthe Old Man of the Mountain, with whose extraordinary fanatical sect\nof Assassins the crusaders had recently made Europe acquainted. Sir\nJohn's story is probably founded upon exaggerated accounts of this\nfamous personage.\n\nTo his description of the perilous Vale of Devils we fear no such\nrespectable origin can be attributed. \"This vale,\" he says, \"is full\nof devils, and has been always;\" and horrible noises are heard in it\nday and night, as though Satan and his crew were holding an infernal\nfeast. Many daring men have entered in quest of the gold and silver\nwhich are known to abound therein; but few have come out again, for\nthe devils strangle the misbelieving. We regret to say that Sir John\nassures us that he actually saw this vale and went through it with\nseveral of his company. They heard mass first and confessed their\nsins, and, trusting in God, fourteen men marched into the valley; but\nwhen they came out at the other end they were only nine. Whether the\nfive were strangled by devils or turned back, Sir John did not know;\nhe never saw them again. The vale was full of horrible sights and\nsounds. Corpses covered the ground, storms filled the air. The face\nand shoulders of an appalling devil terrified them, belching forth\nsmoke and stench from beneath a huge rock, and several times the\ntravellers were cast down to the ground and buffeted by tempests. Our\nauthor unfortunately was afraid to pick up any of the treasures which\nstrewed the way; he did not know what they might really be; for the\ndevils are very cunning in getting up imitation gems and metals; and\nbesides, he adds, \"I would not be put out of my devotion; for I was\nmore devout then than ever I was before or after.\"\n\nWhen one has passed through the Vale of Devils, other marvels are\nencountered beyond. There are giants twenty-eight or thirty feet\nin height, and Sir John heard of others whose stature was as much\nas fifty feet; but he candidly avows that he \"had no lust to go\ninto those parts,\" because when the giants see a ship sailing by\nthe island on which they live, they wade out to seize it, and bring\nthe men to land, two in each hand, eating them all alive and raw\nas they walk. In another island toward the north are people quite\nas dangerous, but not quite so shocking; these are women who have\nprecious stones in their eyes, and when they are angry they slay a\nman with a look. Still more marvellous and incredible than any of\nthese tales is the account of that country, unnamed and undescribed,\nwhere kings are chosen for their virtue and ability alone, and\njustice is done in every cause to rich and poor alike, and no\nevil-doer, be he the king, himself, ever escapes punishment. There is\nan isle besides, called Bragman, or the Land of Faith, where all men\neschew vice, and care not for money; where there is neither wrath,\nenvy, lechery, nor deceit; where no man lies, or steals, or deceives\nhis neighbor; where never a murder has been done since the beginning\nof time; where there is no poverty, no drunkenness, no pestilence,\ntempest, or sickness, no war, and no oppression. All these fine\ncountries are under the sway of the magnificent Prester John.\n\nHere, on the borders of that Land of Perpetual Darkness, which\nstretches away to the Terrestrial Paradise, we take leave of our good\nknight, now near the end of his travels. \"Rheumatic gouts\" began to\ntorture his wandering limbs and warn him to go home. He has, indeed,\na few more stories to tell; but they are dull in comparison with the\nwonders we have already recounted. Much more, indeed, he might have\nwritten; but he gives a truly ingenuous reason for checking his pen:\n\n    \"And therefore, now that I have devised you of certain\n    countries which I have spoken of before, I beseech your worthy\n    and excellent nobleness that it suffice to you at this time;\n    for if I told you all that is beyond the sea, another man\n    perhaps, who would labor to go into those parts to seek those\n    countries, might be blamed by my words in rehearsing many\n    strange things; for he might not say any thing new, in which\n    the hearers might have either solace or pleasure.\"\n\n\n\n\nHOME SCENES IN NEW ENGLAND.\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nMY AUNT AND THE CATECHISM.\n\n\"There sister! I told you what would come of letting that dear child\nhear little Mary Ann recite the Romanist catechism. Here we have our\nlittle Kitty setting herself up as a judge in matters of religion,\nand quoting the answers she has learned by hearing them repeated! Not\nbut that she is as good a child as her auntie or her mother could\ndesire; but her brain is too thoroughly American, too much given to\ngoing to the bottom of any subject it is once interested in, to stop\nhalf-way in a matter of this kind. I knew all the time how it would\nend.\"\n\nHere my maiden aunt paused, more in sorrow than in anger, and little\nKitty remarked playfully,\n\n\"If _truth_ lies at the bottom of a well, as you once told me,\nauntie, how could we ever reach it without going to the bottom?\"\nWhile Kitty's mother replied to her sister in a half-apologizing\nmanner,\n\n\"Why, Laura, I consented to let her hear Mary Ann's catechism, simply\nbecause Kitty told me that the poor mother was so much occupied\nin striving to earn a living for her little fatherless ones that\nshe could not hear it herself; and then the priest was expected to\ncome here soon, to prepare the children for confirmation, which is\nto be given shortly by the bishop. So there was no time to lose. I\ncertainly did not think there could be any danger in a mere act of\nkindness.\"\n\n\"Danger!\" exclaimed grandmamma, in defence of her little pet. \"If\nthere's danger in a little knowledge of the Catholic catechism,\nit must be because our house is built on a sandy foundation, and\nhence we fear it will be destroyed by a little outside religious\ninformation. For my part, I have no objection to full examination in\nthese matters; nor have I any fear for the result.\"\n\nA long-drawn sigh and an ejaculation of grief from the corner of the\nroom called our attention to where grandmamma's sister--\"Aunt Ruby,\"\nthe widow of a Congregational minister--sat knitting, removed from\nthe light of the evening lamps because of the weakness of her eyes.\n\n\"O sister! sister! how can you talk so. The old adversary goeth about\neverywhere like a roaring lion. He lies hid even in that dish of\nmeal. If he can only get our folks to questioning and examining, then\nthe mischief is done; and we shall have popish priests coming here,\ncarrying on their crossings and their blessings, offering to sell\npardons for our sins, and making us all bow the knee to Baal, and\npray to their graven images. I shudder to think of it!\"\n\n\"They do not pray to graven images, Aunt Ruby; the catechism\nexpressly forbids it!\" replied Kitty.\n\n\"There comes that old catechism again!\" exclaimed Aunt Laura. \"If\nMary Ann's catechism forbids it, then the book was trumped up to\ndeceive American children, and is entirely different from the\ncatechisms used in Ireland or France.\"\n\n\"As for that, auntie, Mary Ann's mother has one she brought from\nIreland many years ago, and it teaches just the same things.\nBut there is one thing in both that you will acknowledge as\nbinding--'Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor;'\nand the catechism explains that it forbids 'all false testimonies,\nrash judgments, and lies.' It seems to me that good people should be\ncareful not to accuse the Catholic Church--\"\n\n\"Romanist, if you please!\"\n\n\"Well, the Roman Catholic Church, of things they do not know to be\ntrue; and I see no harm in inquiring what is true, and what false, in\nall that is brought against it. Here is our neighbor across the road,\na pious Methodist, will not let her little girl, who was my best\nfriend, play with me any more, because I said I thought lies about\nCatholics were just as bad as lies about Methodists. But I shall\nalways think so, if I lose the friendship of every body.\"\n\nA sigh and a groan were heard from the dark corner, and a voice, \"O\npoor child! the poison is beginning to work, and there's no knowing\nwhere it will end. If things are to go on in this way, it is just as\nlikely as any thing in the world that we shall have the Pope of Rome\nand all his cardinals down among us before we know it, letting folks\nout of purgatory, selling indulgences to commit sin, and doing so\nmany other awful things!\"\n\n\"Ha! ha!\" laughed Kitty's father, who had just come in. \"Never mind,\nAunt Ruby, the pope will never take you, so you need not stand in\nfear of him. You are too much in the dark, and I fear never could\nbear the light sufficiently to become one of the children of holy\nchurch.\"\n\nKitty's eldest brother, who had been educated in a Catholic college,\nhad come in with his father, and now whispered slyly to grandmamma,\n\n\"I don't know about that; I have great hopes for Aunt Ruby yet. When\nshe left the Episcopal Church, and was propounded for admission into\nthe Congregational, before she married the minister, you remember how\nthe old deacons groaned in spirit over her because they could not get\nher to say she was 'willing to be damned.'[34] They insisted that the\n'old carnal heart' was still too strong in her, and they protested\nwith one voice that it would never do for their minister to marry a\nwoman who was not 'willing to be damned.' Perhaps the dear old lady\nremains yet of the same mind. If so, she may escape, after all.\"\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nWHAT OUR NEIGHBORS THOUGHT OF IT.\n\n\"So you have all heard of this affair! Then I suppose it must be\ntrue. Well, for my part, I never could have thought it possible\nhere in New England, and in the light of this nineteenth century!\"\nexclaimed a grave-looking, elderly lady, who sat in the centre of\na group of women who had met together to spend the afternoon in\nchatting and knitting. \"I never could have believed that a woman so\nwell-informed and so good as Mrs. S---- would allow her child to\nbe ensnared and deceived by these wicked papists. I was perfectly\nastonished when I heard of it.\"\n\n\"And so was I,\" rejoined another and younger individual of the group.\n\"I called to inquire of Mrs. S---- herself, to ask if the report was\ntrue. She said it was true; and, what do you think? she even went so\nfar as to say that she hoped her Kitty would never read a worse book\nthan that awful Romanist catechism! What is to become of us when good\npeople and professing Christians talk in this way? I am afraid the\npoor woman is in great danger herself.\"\n\n\"Of course she is,\" said another; \"but if she has a craving for error\nherself, she has no right to expose her child to the influence of it.\nI am told she openly maintains, and in Kitty's presence too, that\ngood works are necessary to salvation, and even dares to talk about\npenance and all those popish abominations. Only the other day, Kitty\ntold me she thought lies about Catholics were just as bad as lies\nabout Methodists. I informed the young lady that I should have no\nmore visiting between her and my daughter. I was sorry to grieve poor\nKitty, she is such a good little girl; but I could not have the mind\nof my child poisoned by such dangerous doctrines.\"\n\nA little woman, whose knitting-needles had been clicking with\nmarvellous rapidity and energy, and whose countenance had indicated\nthe most earnest attention and interest during this colloquy, here\nventured to remark that she thought Kitty's opinion was very just,\nand she would really like to know what there was so very dangerous in\nthe Catholic catechism. She had become acquainted with many Catholics\nwhile visiting her friends in Canada, and they seemed to be as good\npeople as there are anywhere. She wished she could be informed as to\nthe particular and alarming errors taught by this church.\n\nAll voices were raised at once in expressions of surprise at such\nastounding ignorance. \"Is it possible there is any one who does\nnot know that the Roman church is a mass of errors, corruptions,\nsuperstitious mummeries and idolatries? that Romanists pray to saints\nand graven images instead of praying to God? that the priests keep\nthe people in darkness and ignorance in order to domineer over them\nat their pleasure. Errors, to be sure!\"\n\nThe minute individual whose remarks had raised this storm of\nindignation, here interposed by saying emphatically, \"I confess I\ndo not know much about this church, except that in this country\nit is everywhere denounced in the strongest terms. But it is not\nnecessarily as bad as its enemies represent it to be, any more than\nthe primitive church was. I do not dare to condemn any body of\nChristians--\"\n\n\"Christians!\" interrupted an old lady with more acid than honey in\nher aspect and manner; \"Christians!\" with an unmistakable sneer.\n\n\"Yes, Christians!\" resumed the other; \"for I am told they believe\nin our Lord Jesus Christ; and, as I was saying, I would not dare\nto condemn them without knowing from themselves, instead of their\nenemies, what their doctrines are.\"\n\nThe conversation was here interrupted by the entrance of Kitty's\nmother, who was received with a cold reserve that revealed to her at\nonce what the subject of their discussion had been. Being of a frank\nand fearless disposition, and possessing much of that American candor\nof soul which insists on fair play in every contest, she opened the\nsubject without hesitation, by saying,\n\n\"I have been informed, ladies, that my neighbors are greatly alarmed\nbecause I allowed my little girl to hear a Catholic child recite the\ncatechism. I have examined the little book carefully, and cannot find\nany thing in it to justify such fears. I am not at all afraid it will\nhurt my child.\"\n\nA solemn silence followed this declaration, when an excited\nindividual inquired with much vehemence, \"What does it say about\npriests pardoning sins, about praying to saints, and praying souls\nout of purgatory?\"\n\n\"As to the power of the priests to pardon sins, it merely repeats the\nwords of our Lord, 'Whose sins ye shall forgive, they are forgiven;'\nand I confess I never before noticed how very clear and decisive they\nwere, especially when he added, 'And lo! I am with you always, even\nunto the end of the world.' As to praying to saints, it asserts that\nthe saints in glory pray to God for us, and help us by their prayers,\nand that the souls in purgatory are assisted by our prayers for them.\"\n\n\"There's no such place as purgatory!\" indignantly exclaimed an old\nlady. \"I don't believe a word of it.\"\n\n\"Unfortunately for you, my dear friend,\" replied Kitty's mother,\n\"your believing or disbelieving does not make the least difference\nin this matter. If there is a purgatory, as was always held by the\nJewish church and has been by many Protestants, your opinion will\nnot change the fact or abolish the institution. I really think the\nCatholic doctrine, that the church triumphant prays for the church\nmilitant, (for what is the true Christian but a soldier of Christ\nengaged in a life-long conflict with the world, the flesh, and the\ndevil?) and that the church militant supplicates the mercy of God\non behalf of the church suffering, is a beautiful and a consoling\none. It is a golden chain that binds the souls of the redeemed in\nholy communion with each other. The grave that has closed over the\nprecious form of a dear friend no longer places an inseparable\nbarrier between us and the departed soul, but serves rather to bring\nus into closer and more tender sympathy with it. Whether true or not,\nI think it is a beautiful idea.\"\n\n\"And so do I,\" added the energetic little knitter; \"and I would like\nto know more about this doctrine.\"\n\nThe gentleman of the house, an able lawyer of the place, who had\nentered during this conversation, here declared his intention of\nprocuring from the priest on his next visit some books explaining\nCatholic doctrines.\n\n\"For,\" he remarked, \"it certainly is not just to hear all the\naccusing party has to say, and then refuse to listen to the defence.\"\n\nCountenances expressive of indignation and alarm, with sighs and\ngroans from most of the party, were the only remonstrances offered to\nthis bold proposition.\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nTHE OPINION OF THE SEWING-CIRCLE.\n\n\"I am sure I don't know what will happen next in our village!\nWhat would have been said thirty years ago of such outrageous\nperformances?\"\n\nThese were the words that greeted my ears as I entered the sewing\nsociety at Mrs. B----'s, on a fine afternoon in August, 18--. The\nspeaker, who was an energetic middle-aged lady, continued, \"First\nthere was the S---- family, with their Romish catechism and their\ninquiring into forbidden things, all going on the broad road to\ndestruction as rapidly as possible, with ever so many more fascinated\nand entangled in the same net; and now here Mr. W---- and his whole\nfamily have fairly rushed through the gate and joined those children\nof perdition, the Romanists. It is too bad; too much for human\npatience!\"\n\n\"Nothing more than might be expected of those Episcopalians!\"\nexclaimed a prim-looking young lady. \"It is but a step from their\nchurch to Rome. I am not at all surprised.\"\n\n\"I am not so sure of that,\" remarked Mrs. J----. \"I suspect the\nEpiscopalians differ just as much from the Romanists, after all,\nas the Congregationalists or any other Protestant sect. They are\nProtestants, you know, as well as we. You remember Miss E----, who\nwas the principal of our female seminary for some time, a lady of\nremarkable intelligence and rare culture, and a very dear friend of\nmine in Massachusetts, before she came here. She was always a devoted\nCongregationalist from the time she first experienced religion; but\nshe has lately become, I am sorry to say, a Romanist; and, what\nis still worse, she is about to join their Sisters of Charity! I\nreceived from her, not long ago, a letter explaining her reasons,\nand speaking of what she calls our 'misapprehensions of Catholic\ndoctrine.' She says she has not laid aside any part of her former\nbelief; but has only made such additions as complete the system, and\nrender portions which before were dubious, discordant, and perplexing\nfragments the clear, harmonious, distinct, and necessary members\nof a perfect whole. I assure you she has more to say for herself\nthan you would believe possible, and she knows how to say it, too,\nin a most impressive manner. She told me, also, of many others of\nour persuasion who will probably join the Catholic Church. So the\nEpiscopalians are not alone, you see, in this movement.\"\n\n\"True,\" said Mrs. G----; \"for there is Mrs. H---- and her daughter,\nwho were leading Methodists. They have joined this popish rabble,\nand are so very happy in their new home that it is past belief, and\nquite amusing to people of common sense. I don't believe it makes\nany difference what body of Protestant Christians folks belong to;\nif they once get to pondering on these things, they are almost sure\nto follow their noses into the Roman Church before they stop. When\nthe mind gets fairly waked up, it does not seem possible to quiet it\nin any other way. And then, as you say, they are all so perfectly\ncontented and joyous when they have once entered the 'fold,' as they\ncall it, that it is a puzzle to sober-minded Christians! I think this\nnew priest who has lately come among us is doing immense mischief\nalready.\"\n\n\"Of course he is!\" chimed in another lady with much asperity. \"He is\nso very agreeable and polite, so gentle and easy to get acquainted\nwith, that every one is attracted by him. Then he is an American, and\nknows so much better how to make himself acceptable to our people\nthan the other one did, that he is a great deal more dangerous on\nthat account. My son George, who would not speak to Kitty S----,\nJennie H----, and the W----s, you know, after they began to patronize\nRomanism--though he thought every thing of them before--is already\nquite at home with this new priest; takes long walks with him, and\neven went to the church last Sunday, just to see how they get on over\nthere.\"\n\n\"Oh! yes, he told me all about it,\" said Miss Mary B----. He said it\nwas perfectly astonishing to see Mr. W---- singing and chanting with\nthose shabby Canadians; and there were the W----s, the H----s, and\nthe S----s, kneeling right in the midst of that rabble, and to all\nappearance as intent on their prayers, and as much absorbed in what\nwas going on, as any one present. They seemed quite at home, and to\nunderstand every thing as well as if they had been accustomed to it\nall their lifetime. George said he placed himself where they couldn't\nhelp seeing him; but they were not disconcerted in the least. Even\nthe girls never seemed to notice him at all. He said they doubtless\nunderstood the service, but he didn't. I think, Mrs. G----, that it\nwill not be very safe for George to go there often; for he told\nme that there was a wonderful solemnity and fascination about the\nplace--which is not much better than a mere shanty--and about the\nservice, though he didn't understand a word of it. He never felt so\nsolemn in all his life, he said; and that was a great deal for such a\nscatterbrain as George to say.\"\n\n\"I have heard others older and wiser than he say the same,\" remarked\na thoughtful-looking widow with a sigh. \"My brother, who is a\ndeacon, and a man of very cool temperament and calm judgment, says\nhe never was in a Catholic place of worship but once, and then he\nwas almost frightened at the sensation of awe that came over him. He\nsaid it seemed to him that the impression it made was what one would\nnaturally expect if their doctrine of the real presence were true,\nand the sight of the solemn assurance which a great many apparently\ndevout and good people evidently possessed of their near approach\nto their Redeemer, really present in that place, affected him so\nsensibly that he could not shake the feeling off. It was a very plain\nlittle chapel, by no means equal to our churches; but he said it\nseemed as if something whispered to him that he was standing on holy\nground. He has been very painfully exercised about these matters ever\nsince, and he says that the sixth chapter of St. John's Gospel, which\nnever troubled him before, now appears to be all in favor of their\ndoctrine.\"\n\n\"For my part, I don't see why Protestants want to go near them at\nall!\" exclaimed another indignantly. \"It only brings about mischief;\nand the only way to put down such things is to set our faces\nresolutely against every one that countenances any thing pertaining\nto Romanism. We must be determined that we will have nothing to\ndo with such people in any way. We must keep entirely aloof from\nRomanists and from Romanizers.\"\n\n\"Well, I confess that I am very much puzzled about all these\nmatters,\" quietly observed a lady of very gentle manners, in a low\nvoice. \"I cannot help having misgivings that a system which carries\ninto its minutest circumstances and details such almost irresistible\npower may perhaps, after all, owe it to the force of truth. It is\ncertainly sustained and animated by some principle not possessed or\nexerted by Protestantism in any of its branches.\"\n\n\"It is a principle of evil, then,\" cried the former austere speaker.\n\"The Prince of Darkness knows how to appear as an 'angel of light'!\"\n\n\"Ah!\" resumed the other; \"but you know our Lord said, 'If they have\ncalled the Master of the house Beelzebub, how much more those of his\nhousehold!' We ought to be careful how we bring such accusations\nagainst a church which certainly numbers some very good people among\nits members. One thing may be said of it, that the poor are tenderly\ncherished and cared for within its pale; and I can never believe that\nthe evil one is the dispenser or instigator of so many charities as\nare instituted and supported by this church.\"\n\n\"All done for effect, and to lead poor Protestants astray! Take care,\nmy dear friend; for these misgivings are the beginning of danger, and\nif you follow them, they will surely lead you into the Romish Church.\nThat is the way all those who have lost the light of Protestantism\nhave been ensnared.\"\n\n\"If it should prove that they gave up an _ignis fatuus_ for the light\nof the star that guided the wise men of old to the crib of the Infant\nRedeemer, did they not do well rather than ill?\" suggested the quiet\nspeaker, and was answered only by a murmur of indignation at her bold\nconjecture, as the party withdrew to another room where the tea-table\nwas spread for their refreshment.\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nWHAT HAPPENED AT THE DONATION-PARTY.\n\n\"Did you go to the donation party at our minister's last night,\nsister C----? I was so sorry that I couldn't go! My little girl had\nsuch a bad cold, I did not dare to leave her.\"\n\n\"Yes, I was there; and, don't you think! Mrs. H---- was there too,\nwith her daughter. Would you have believed she would dare to show her\nface among the Methodists, after what has happened?\"\n\n\"No, indeed, I should not! But wonders will never cease. How did she\nappear?\"\n\n\"As pleasant and gentle as ever; and just as much at home as if she\nhad never left us to join the Catholics. Sister J---- would not speak\nto her at first, or look at her; and our good old brother L----, who\nused to be her class-leader, you know, quite turned the cold shoulder\nupon her; but she was not to be put off so easily; and after a little\nwhile, her kind and winning ways had thawed all the ice, and we\ncouldn't help being pleasant with her.\"\n\n\"Well, I always did love sister H----; hence I don't want to meet her\nnow. I am glad I was not there! Did any one speak to her about her\nchange?\"\n\n\"Yes; brother L---- could not help telling her how sorry we were to\nlose her; and she said, 'You have not lost me, brother L----; I shall\nnever forget my dear Methodist friends, and shall never cease to\nlove and pray for them!' 'Pray for them!' brother L---- said with\ngreat contempt; 'we don't thank people for praying to the saints\nfor us; we can pray to God for ourselves. Ah Sister H----! if you\nwould only pray to him as you used to, when you were a warm-hearted\nMethodist, that would do!' Her answer to this was what puzzled me.\nI remember every word of it, she looked so grieved, and so sweetly\nearnest, while the tears fairly came to her eyes as she said, 'Pray\nto God as I used to, Brother L----! Why, I never knew the meaning\nof the word prayer until I was a Catholic! I then entered the very\natmosphere of prayer! My life, my breath, my every thought, my every\naction, became one continual prayer to an ever-present God from that\nhour. The saints united with me, assisted me--at my request prayed\nfor me--and for those for whom I desired their prayers in union\nwith my own; and of that perfect union and communion with them, I\ncan give you no idea. O brother L----! believe me, there is no home\nfor a 'warm-hearted Methodist' but the Catholic Church! Don't you\nremember, in our class conferences, how I used to say I was happy,\nbut not satisfied; I felt that I was still a seeker. I had been first\na Congregationalist, then an Episcopalian, and at last a Methodist;\nbut had not found all I was seeking for. You thought I never would\nuntil I reached heaven; but'--and how I wish, dear friend, you could\nhave seen and heard her as she said it, for I cannot describe her\nimpressive manner--'but brother, I have found it all in the Catholic\nChurch! The blank is filled. The yearning of my soul is satisfied so\nentirely that there is nothing left to desire!'\n\n\"'All a delusion, sister H----!' exclaimed brother L----. 'You'll\nwake up some time and find it so, and then you'll come back!' She\nlooked perfectly dismayed at the very thought, as she replied,\n'Come back to what? To content myself with the shadow, when I have\npossessed the substance? to satisfy my hunger with the husks of\nthe stranger, when I have feasted at the continual and overflowing\nbanquet of my Father's table! O my Methodist friends! if you could\nbut taste for once the sweetness and fulness of that banquet, you\nwould never cast one backward look upon what you had left, except\nto mourn for those who remain contented there, when they might be\nfeasting on the bread of angels!' I confess to you, Mrs. M----, that\nI could not help being moved by her earnestness to wish that I was\neven as she is! No one can doubt her entire sincerity who listens\nto her. Brother L---- asked her if it could be possible that she\nbelieved all the absurdities taught by the Romish Church? She replied\nthat she believed no absurdities, and that he had not the slightest\nidea as to what the Catholic Church really did teach; a tissue of\nabsurdities had been invented by its enemies, and palmed off upon the\ntoo credulous Protestants as its teachings, when they were entirely\nforeign to it, and baseless misrepresentations. 'But,' she added, 'I\nbelieve all that my church really does offer to my belief, as firmly\nas I believe that there is a sun in the firmament of heaven!'\"\n\n\"Well, how strange it all is, to be sure! Now, I met Mrs. L---- the\nother day, and I was so provoked at the way they are going on, that\nI could not for my life help asking her why, in the name of common\nsense, if they wanted to be Romanists, they didn't all go together\nlike sensible people, and not string along, one to-day, another\nto-morrow, and so on, as they do? And what do you think was her\nreply? 'Why, you know, Mrs. M----,' she said; 'that we read of the\nolden time that, \"The Lord added _daily_ unto the church of such as\nshould be saved\"!' There is one thing, as you say, that cannot be\ndoubted or denied: right or wrong, they are solemnly in earnest, and\nheartily sincere. You know little Kitty S---- had a terrible fit\nof sickness before they became Catholics, (some think her sickness\nhastened that event,) and has been a great sufferer ever since.\nSister W---- has taken care of her through it all, and I should not\nwonder if she should go off on the same road. She is all taken up\nwith it now, and justifies their course; says all the evils we have\nbeen accustomed to hear of the Catholic religion are slanders, and\nthat if the S----s, and especially little Kitty, are not Christians\nof the true stamp, she does not rightly understand the gospel of\nChrist.\"\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nREMINISCENCES OF THE PAST.\n\nAfter an absence of over twenty years, we returned to the pleasant\nvillage in New England which had formerly exercised over us the charm\nthat pertains to the magic name of HOME.\n\nSeeking out one of the few old neighbors who were left, on the\nmorning after our arrival, I was met with the surprised and joyful\nexclamation,\n\n\"Why, my dear Mrs. J----! can it be possible that this is your own\nself? I had no hopes of ever seeing you again in this world.\"\n\n\"It is indeed myself,\" I replied. \"We have long been wanderers by\n'field and flood;' but have at length returned to remain a short time\namong the scenes of other years. If you are at leisure, I want to\nsettle down into my own cosy corner of the dear old sitting-room,\njust as if I had never been away, and ask you as many questions about\nvillage affairs and those of the olden time as you will want to\nanswer.\"\n\n\"You could not furnish me with a greater pleasure, I assure you! But\nO my friend! what changes have taken place since you left! Very few\nof those who were with us then still remain. Many have died, some\nhave gone 'West,' and some have found their way to San Francisco and\nother parts of California.\"\n\n\"Where are the W----s?\" I inquired.\n\n\"They removed to another place some years ago, and their family is\nwidely scattered; but they remain united in spirit, and steadfast in\nthe faith.\"\n\n\"And the S----s?\"\n\n\"Only three of them are living. One has gone to the far West, and the\nothers have left this place. Little Kitty, after years of patient\nsuffering, during which she never ceased to thank God for having\npermitted her to find in the holy Catholic Church 'the path over\nwhich so many saints and martyrs have passed to heaven'--as she\nexpressed it--at length meekly and joyfully resigned her youthful\nspirit to her Maker; leaving the light of a beautiful example to\nshine around the lonely home, and console the bereaved family. Her\ngrandmother, who embraced the faith soon after her granddaughter made\nprofession of it, followed her to the other world in a few months,\nconsoled by all the rites of the church, in which, though she entered\nits blessed inclosure late in life, she had in a 'short space,' by\nher good words and works, acquired the merit of many years. Then\n'Aunt Laura' and Kitty's younger sister joined them, 'rejoicing\nin hope.' 'Aunt Ruby' survived them some years, and was often\nheard to wish, with a sigh, that she could be sure she was as well\nprepared to leave the world as her Catholic sister; but she never\nhad the courage to brave the ill-opinion of her own little world of\nCongregationalism--over the modern innovations and delinquencies of\nwhich she never ceased to mourn--by following that sister into the\nonly 'ark of safety.'\"\n\n\"Ah!\" I exclaimed; \"how many changes indeed. Then I shall never see\nthose dear friends whom I had so fondly hoped to meet again. And\nwhere is Mrs. L----, our energetic little knitter, who was so true to\nevery impulse of divine grace and truth?\"\n\n\"She has long slept in the village cemetery. 'Faithful unto death!'\nmight well have been the inscription upon her grave. She passed\nthrough severe and bitter trials, and was made to feel that there\nare tortures as cruel as those of the rack or wheel, to a sensitive\nspirit, in the cold contempt and neglect of those who should have\nbeen her protectors, as they were her only earthly support. But she\nnever wavered for a moment in her firm trust, or ceased to rejoice\nthat she had been called to the profession of the true faith, which\nabundantly sustained her under all her griefs and sufferings.\"\n\n\"And dear, gentle Mrs. N----? I felt sure she would forsake the\n_ignis fatuus_ of Protestantism at last for 'the light of the star\nthat guided the wise men' of old, though she was so long in making up\nher mind.\"\n\n\"She did so; and died rejoicing in its light, by the crib of\nBethlehem!\"\n\n\"Do Mrs. H---- and her daughter still live?\"\n\n\"The daughter died some years ago, and was laid near little Kitty\nS----, whom she tenderly loved, and regarded as the chief instrument\nof her conversion. Her mother has removed to some distance; but is\nas fervently thankful to-day for the great gift of faith as she was\non that memorable one when she first accepted it, and turned from old\nand dear associations to find the 'only home for the warm-hearted\nMethodist,' in the bosom of the Catholic Church.\"\n\n\"I heard, soon after I left, that the G----s became Catholics. Was it\ntrue?\"\n\n\"Yes; and very faithful and fervent children of the church they were;\nillustrating the beauty of Catholic truths by the shining virtues of\ntheir lives. But, alas! of the whole family--father, mother, and five\nchildren--but one survives. They departed followed by the prayers and\nbenedictions of the whole Catholic congregation, to whose service\nthey had devoted their best efforts.\"\n\n\"Then there were the B----s, the K----s, and the C----s, who were\ndeeply interested in Catholic truths when I left. Did they follow out\ntheir convictions?\"\n\n\"No; they were 'almost persuaded' to cast in their lot with the happy\nband of converts; but the storm of obloquy and reproach which soon\ngathered around the devoted company--without in the least disturbing\ntheir peace--so appalled those outside, that they did not dare to\nfollow the inspiration, or ever again to seek its aid. Some became\nSpiritualists, some Second Adventists, and those who remain nominally\nas they were before, have fallen into hopeless indifference to all\nreligion, and intense worldliness; seeking in petty ambitions and\ntrifling pursuits the comfort they are no longer able to find in\nthe bosom of any sect. The glimmering of Catholic light which they\naccepted had served only to reveal to them the utter emptiness of\nProtestantism, when they steadfastly closed their eyes to any further\nillumination. While life remains there is hope; but such cases as\nthese seem as nearly hopeless as any in this world can be.\"\n\nWe visited the cemetery, where reposed the mortal remains of so many\nfriends who had been the theme of our conversation; and I found\nfamiliar names more numerous there than were familiar faces among\nthe living. We also sought together the spacious church which had\nbeen erected during my absence, and which is a beautiful and enduring\nevidence of the active zeal of a congregation which is richer in holy\nmemories, and in faith, hope, and charity, than in the goods of this\nworld.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[34] A question that used to be urged as a test of fitness for\nmembership, and an affirmative answer required. The custom has now\nbecome obsolete.\n\n\n\n\nSONNET.\n\nTO ITALY.\n\n\n    All-radiant region! would that thou wert free!\n    Free 'mid thine Alpine realm of cloud and pine,\n    Free 'mid the rich vales of thine Apennine,\n    Free to the Adrian and the Tyrrhene Sea!\n    God with a two-fold freedom franchise thee!\n    Freedom from alien bonds, so often thine,\n    Freedom from Gentile hopes--death-fires that shine\n    O'er the foul grave of pagan liberty,\n    With pagan empire side by side interred;\n    Then round the fixed throne of their Roman sire\n    Thy sister states should hang, a pleiad choir,\n    With saintly beam unblunted and unblurred,\n    A splendor to the Christian splendor clinging,\n    A lyre star-strung, ever the \"new song\" singing!\n\n                                             AUBREY DE VERE.\n\n\n\n\nIRELAND'S MISSION.\n\nBY W. MAZIERE BRADY, D.D., AN IRISH PROTESTANT CLERGYMAN.\n\n\nFew persons expected that the passing of Mr. Gladstone's\ndisestablishment bill would have immediately introduced a golden\nage into Ireland. The leading promoters of that measure never\nregarded it as one which was final and complete; but rather as a\nnecessary prelude to certain reconstructive measures more powerful\nand important than itself. The abolition of the ascendency of an\nalien church did not restore--and did not affect to restore--to the\nCatholic Church its ancient status and endowments. The attempt would\nbe entirely vain to regather the _disjecta membra_ of the great body\nof Irish church temporalities long since dispersed and broken up by\nsuccessive spoliations and alienations. The property dealt with by\nthe recent legislation is but a small fraction of what once belonged\nto the Irish Church. Restitution, unhappily, is often impossible to\nthe statesman. He may build up an edifice upon ruins, and create new\nempires out of revolutions. But he can no more give back to outraged\nnationalities their unsullied honor, or to plundered kingdoms their\nsquandered treasures, than he can restore to those fallen from purity\ntheir virgin crown or re\u00ebndow criminals with a conscience void of\noffence and free from sear of guilt. And therefore the removal of\nthe alien church led to no replacement of the old Catholic Church in\nthe position vacated by its Protestant rival; but merely paved the\nway for the introduction of constructive measures upon the nature\nof which will depend the future, not of Ireland merely, but of the\nBritish empire. Amidst these constructive measures the statesman will\nnot reckon any provisions for the maintenance or aggrandisement of\nthe Catholic Church in Ireland. A church which withstood calamity\nand survived the loss of its possessions, and flourished under three\nhundred years of bitter persecution, may safely be left to itself.\nState patronage, in any extended form, might corrupt, but could\nnot strengthen, Irish Catholicism. Catholics in many countries are\nbeginning to feel that freedom of action and development is of far\ngreater value than endowments to the church. In Ireland, Catholics\nhave long since perceived and acknowledged that liberty--not the\nenervating influence of court favor--is the true bulwark of Catholic\nworship.\n\nLegislators have, in fact, no occasion to take into their\nconsideration the Irish Catholic Church, except in so far as its\npower and interests intermingle with the educational and other\nsocial and political problems which demand deep and impartial\ninquiry. Whoever examines, without prejudice or passion, the actual\nposition of Ireland as an integral part of the British empire must\nconfess that Ireland forms at this time, more than at any other,\nthe cardinal point of English policy. Gibraltar was once the key\nto the Mediterranean and to political supremacy in Europe. Ireland\nis to England another Gibraltar, on whose rock British power must\nbe either consolidated or riven. The Ireland of 1870 is rapidly\nentering on a new phase of existence, which is none the less\nworthy of the statesman's study because it is the result of causes\naltogether beyond his control. Ireland is no longer an island\nlying within a few hours' sail of the English navy, inhabited by\nmen whose interests may be disposed of without reference to the\nwishes of any save the inhabitants of Great Britain. The people of\nIreland are by no means confined within the territorial limits of\nthat country. The Irish nation has two homes. The one is in Ireland,\nthe other is in America. Misgovernment sent half Ireland into\nexile, and those exiles have prospered and multiplied to an extent\nfar exceeding any known examples of similar transmigrations. But\nalthough there are two homes, there is but one nation of Irishmen.\nFive millions of men occupy Irish soil, but far more than twice five\nmillions of Irishmen dwelling in foreign lands not only claim but\nexercise an ever-increasing influence on Irish politics. Some few\namong the ultra-conservative statesmen of England--and among them\none no less distinguished than the great chief of the late Tory\nadministration--looked with eyes of cruel satisfaction on the exodus\nwhich wiser men regarded with awe as a hemorrhage draining away the\nlife-blood of their kingdom. The famine was to these bigoted men a\nGod-gift, which swept off what they flippantly termed a superabundant\npopulation. Emigration was, in their eyes, a more tedious and costly\nprocess for the decimation of Irish Catholics. Protestants, belonging\nchiefly to the dominant and richer class, were in proportion to\ntheir numbers less exposed than Catholics to the severity of the\nfamine and the necessity of expatriation. Famine and emigration,\nif only Providence would prolong and intensify their action, would\nalter--so they thought--the numerical proportions between Catholics\nand Protestants make Ireland a Protestant country and render the\nchurch establishment less anomalous. Let a few more years pass--so\nargued these reasoners--and instead of having to legislate for a\nCatholic, discontented, Ireland, over-populated and half-pauperized,\nwe shall have to deal with one comparatively Protestant, which\nwill be prosperous, happy, and loyal to the British crown. It is\nrecorded of an English statesman that he once expressed a wish--in\njest, no doubt--that Ireland were for an hour submerged in the\nAtlantic, that it might rise again stripped of its inhabitants, a\nfresh field for the importation of English Protestant colonists.\nThe folly of wishing for either a flood or a famine to repair the\ndefects of English legislation for Ireland, is now as apparent as\nthe cruelty. Even though the island of Ireland were reduced to such\na _tabula rasa_ as some bigots would desire, England must take into\naccount the thousands and millions of Irishmen in various lands who\nconstitute part of the Irish nation, and who think, plan, and pray\nfor the happiness of their traditional fatherland. And fortunately\nfor the interests of England, no less than of Ireland, a policy has\nof late been adopted by the leaders of the great liberal party which\nprofesses to deal with Catholic Ireland, not as with a venomous\nthing to be guarded against, kept down, and, if possible, crushed,\nbut as a country to be tenderly regarded, carefully cherished, and\nlegislated for with a view to the contentment and preservation of\nits Catholic people. The policy of Mr. Gladstone, Mr. Bright, and\nthe party of which they are now the recognized chiefs, is at present\nbut partially developed, yet has already produced good fruits.\nRighteousness exalteth a nation, and England has risen immensely\nin the opinion of wise and good men in Europe and America by that\ngreat though tardy--the greater, perhaps, because so tardy--act of\nrighteousness, namely, the abolition of an English Protestant church\nestablishment for Irish Catholics. The sympathies of all honest men\nin every quarter of the globe are with the English government in its\nendeavor to stay the tide of Irish emigration, and retain Irishmen\nupon their native soil as contented occupiers and owners of farms.\nBut admiration and sympathy are not the only rewards which England\nmay reap by steadily following out the policy begun by Mr. Gladstone.\nThe integrity of the British empire may be shown to depend upon the\ncontinued development of the principles which carried the Irish\nchurch bill of 1869 and introduced an Irish land bill in 1870. If it\nbe too presumptuous to attempt to forecast a triumphant progress for\nthose principles, it will yet be not wholly profitless to denote the\nperils and obstructions which beset the way.\n\nThe disturbances and outrages which in Ireland preceded and followed\nthe passing of the disestablishment bill, were the natural result of\nthe violent harangues uttered by the fanatic debaters of the Church\nDefence Association, many of whom announced to their excited auditors\nthat the land bill of Mr. Gladstone would confiscate the property\nof Protestant land-owners in Ireland. The evil passions of men thus\ndeceived into a belief that a wrong was intended not only to their\nchurch but to their lands, found vent not merely in hard words and\ncruel threats, but in merciless deeds. Some Protestant landlords\nwithheld the accustomed local charitable contributions which, as\nowners of property, they had hitherto given to various institutions.\nOthers issued notices of ejection against their tenants, and these\nattempted ejections produced--as capricious injustice is certain\nto do--ill-will and resistance. Outrages, even assassinations,\noccurred. But such offences against public order may be expected to\ncease when the causes of them are removed. Time will allay the heat\nof bygone party conflicts. Agrarian outrages will, if the land bill\nbe good for any thing, occur as rarely in Ireland as in America.\nIndustrious laborers will, it is to be hoped, find it easy to rent\nor purchase small holdings on which they may expend their toil, and\nin which they may invest their savings without fear of their being\nappropriated to the use of felonious landlords by means of notices\nto quit. It is when the excitement of the land and church questions\nshall have yielded to the pressure of other momentous questions, that\nthe real danger will threaten the onward march of those principles\nwhich, in the opinion of many, can alone safely guide the mutual\nrelations between England and Ireland. The education question will\nbe a highly perilous one. If the liberal party put forward a scheme\nfor compulsory, or secular, or sectarian education, which shall, on\nwhatever pretext, either nominally or practically, tend to withdraw\nthe education of Catholic children from the immediate control of\nthe priests, the result will be disappointment and disaster. Free\neducation, in the sense of an education independent of religion,\nhas great charms in the eyes of English and Irish liberals. Some\nCatholics are inclined to favor any scheme which would place a\nsuperior system of secular instruction within the reach of the great\nbulk of the poorer and middle class, even though it should not\nprovide for that religious training which is a characteristic of a\nstrictly Catholic education. But the Catholic clergy of Ireland, to\na man, and those members of Parliament who represent Irish Catholic\nconstituencies, will give strenuous and effectual opposition to\nundenominational or secular education under its open guise, although\nthey may prove unable to resist the employment, in a modified shape,\nof the principle which they regard as pernicious. It will be much\nto the advantage of Great Britain if the education of Catholics in\nEngland, as well as in Ireland, be made thoroughly Catholic. The\nvast, and in many respects admirable system of national education in\nIreland, which, twenty or thirty years ago, was favorably regarded\nby very many of the Irish Catholic bishops and clergy, has long\nsince been declared unsatisfactory by the Catholic hierarchy.\nThe elementary national schools are now merely tolerated. The\nnational model schools are loudly denounced. The national system\naimed at giving to all children a combined secular instruction and\nat affording opportunities for separate religious instruction.\nThe priest and the parson were invited to become joint patrons\nof schools. The board of education were to supply school-rooms,\nteachers, books, and requisites for a secular instruction in which\nall the pupils were to share. The ministers of various denominations\nwere to supply, either personally or by deputy, a religious teaching\nto their respective pupils. Thus an hour or more was to be set apart\nfor religious teaching. During that hour the Catholic children were\nto be taught the Catholic religion by the priest, or by one of the\nmasters under the priest's direction, and the Protestant children\nwere similarly to be taught the principles of Protestantism in\nanother room by the parson, or by one of the teachers under his\ncontrol. It was supposed that all ministers of religion would join in\ncarrying out a system which thus provided for the general education\nof the poor, without interfering with the conscientious discharge\nof that part of the ministerial duty of clergymen which relates\nto the religious teaching of the young. The idea of instructing\nCatholic and Protestant children together and bringing them up in\nhabits of mutual affection and esteem, was specious and captivating.\nWho could withhold his quota of aid toward realizing the prospect\nthus held out of future generations of educated Irishmen of various\ncreeds, each respecting the religious principles of the others while\nstrong in his own, and all loyal to the impartial government of the\nBritish crown? Yet, at its very outset, the clergy and bishops of the\nProtestant establishment held aloof from the national board. They\nrefused any partnership with Catholic priests in the management of\nschools, and declared that their consciences would not permit them\nto consent to support a system which set limits to the free use of\nthe holy Scriptures during secular instruction. In vain was it shown\nthat in Protestant universities, colleges, and higher schools, nay,\nthat in the very order for divine service according to the ritual\nof the establishment, a limit was actually set to the use of the\nholy Scriptures by the appointment of fixed times and places for the\nstudy and reading and exposition of the sacred word. In vain was\nit demonstrated that neither insult nor disparagement was intended\nby regulations which might be looked on as scarcely different from\nthose which prevented a lecturer in mathematics from giving his\nclass a dissertation upon Isaiah, and denied a clergyman of the\nestablishment the privilege of interpolating his reading of the\nlitany with a chapter from the Apocalypse. The establishment clergy,\nwith a few notable exceptions, asserted it as their right and duty\nto use the Scriptures at all times in their schools, and declared it\nto be a sin to consent to suspend, even during the hours of combined\nsecular instruction, their office of teachers of divine truth. By\nadopting this course they lost whatever claim to public estimation\nthey might otherwise have had as helpers of education, and hastened,\nundoubtedly, the fall of their establishment. It has lately, through\nthe publication of Archbishop Whately's biography by his daughter and\nof the journals of Mr. Senior, been fully disclosed that a desire\nfor proselytism, although in his lifetime he publicly professed\nthe contrary, was at the bottom of that able prelate's energetic\nsupport of the national system. The religious and moral teaching\nof the books used for combined secular instruction had, so argued\nWhately in private, a strong tendency to implant truths which must\nlead to the reception of Protestantism. Give free scope, so reasoned\nthe archbishop, to the national system, and, although the priests\nmay not perceive their danger, Ireland must cease to be a Catholic\ncountry. When publicly advocating the national system, Whately's\nlanguage was, of course, far different. Then he maintained stoutly\nthat the books were thoroughly impartial, he repudiated with affected\nloathing any dishonorable desire to make converts to Protestantism,\nand he professed the most scrupulous respect for the consciences of\nthose who differed from him in religion. The posthumous publication\nof Whately's real sentiments--destructive as that publication is\nof much of his reputation, and especially of his character for\nstraightforwardness--forms a valuable vindication, not merely of\nthe behaviour of those more honest commissioners of education whose\nrefusal to adopt the Whately tactics led to Whately's retirement\nfrom the board, but also of the conduct of the Catholic bishops and\nclergy who have found it necessary emphatically to demand a radical\nchange in the system of national instruction so far as Catholics are\nconcerned.\n\nIt is, however, for the interests of Protestantism and of Great\nBritain, as well as of Catholicism, that the education of Catholics\nshould be carried on more perfectly in accord with the desires of the\nCatholic people. The principle of religious neutrality in education\nhas been tried in Ireland, and found wanting. It has not resulted\nin bringing into the same school-rooms the young of various creeds,\nand educating them in mutual love. Three or four Protestants may be\nfound in the same school with a hundred Catholics; or three or four\nCatholics may attend a school frequented by a hundred Protestants.\nBut nowhere in Ireland is it possible to find a school where one half\nof the pupils are Protestants and the other half Catholics, or where\nthe Protestant clergyman and the Catholic priest, as joint patrons,\nsuperintend their respective classes. It is true, indeed, that\nproselytism is discouraged by the rules of the board, and that no\nfavor is shown to one denomination more than to another. But with all\nthis endeavor after impartiality by its administrators, the system\ninflicts a serious wound upon Catholicity. The authority of the board\nis substituted for that of the Catholic Church. The national school\nteacher, when in training for his office, learns his duties from\nmen of various religious denominations, who are not permitted, even\nwere they desirous, to impart a devotional color to what they teach.\nThe virtues must be commended on moral, not on religious grounds.\nPatriotism may take root in ignorance; for no book of Irish history\nis to be found in the list of Irish national school books. When the\ntrained teacher is set over a school, he still regards himself as\ndependent upon the board which is his paymaster. Catholic teachers\nmay, and sometimes do, hold opinions different from those of the\npriest, and even upon occasions refuse to carry out the priest's\ndirections in the matter of religious teaching. The influence of\nthe priest upon his flock is weakened by that very separation\nbetween secular and religious instruction which is the basis of the\nsystem of national education. Protestantism may flourish under the\nimpartiality, neutrality, and secularization of education at which\nthe originators of that system aimed; but Catholicism must inevitably\nbecome deteriorated.\n\nIt was in past years the almost universal belief of Protestant\ngovernments, that an Irish Catholic, in proportion as he ceased\nto be loyal to his spiritual, would advance in loyalty toward his\ntemporal sovereign. Toleration was offered, even under Elizabeth\nand James, to Catholics who would abjure the spiritual supremacy\nof the pope. In modern times the same spirit of distrust shows\nitself in the endeavor, on the part of some Protestant statesmen,\nto offer to Catholics educational and other advantages upon\nconditions inconsistent with Catholic practices. Those greatly err\nwho thus fancy that Great Britain will gain--either politically or\nreligiously--by the undermining of the influence of the Catholic\npriesthood, or by leavening the education of Catholics with the\nspirit of secularization. The Irish Catholic may be taught to unlearn\nhis faith, to neglect confession, and disobey the injunctions of his\npriest; but no one will say that thereby he becomes, necessarily,\neither a better Christian or a better subject to his sovereign. Such\na one may, or may not, become a Protestant or an infidel. When the\ninfluence of the priest is weakened or destroyed, the Irish Catholic\nbecomes an easy victim to those who teach disloyalty and rebellion.\nBut his lapse into treason should be ascribed to the fact not of his\nbeing a Catholic, but of his being a bad one. No good Catholic who\nvalues the sacraments, and respects the precepts of his church, could\npossibly join the treasonable brotherhoods denounced by the Catholic\npriest from the altar, by the bishops in pastorals, and by the pope\nhimself. There are, however, too many Irish Catholics whose obedience\nto their church is partial, or but nominal. Perhaps these men first\nlearnt in Irish national schools the lesson that religion, like\nevery thing else, has its appointed time and place; that Catholic\ndevotion forms no indispensable portion of secular studies, and that\npriestly intervention in affairs not strictly religious is intrusive\nand impertinent. The want of a truly Catholic training in early\nlife doubtless has led many an adult Catholic to hold that a priest\nout-steps the proper sphere of his office, when he cautions his flock\nagainst revolutionary excesses.\n\nIf misdirected and uncatholic teaching occasions many Irish Catholics\nto become rebels in thought if not in deed, their education has\nadvanced and is advancing in another point, so as to render their\ntreason more dangerous. Irishmen in former years were prompt to seize\noccasions for the overthrow of British rule, but lacked certain\nqualities requisite for permanent success. They seemed incapable, for\nany length of time, of combined action and resolution in the field or\nthe cabinet. They carried into battle the dissensions and jealousies\nof their divided council-chambers. Brilliant displays of military\nvalor served only to mark more distinctly the fatal effects of\nindecision and insubordination. Victory itself was often the prelude\nto that demoralization of forces which is the worst consequence\nof defeat. But now the Irish are swiftly learning to acquire those\nqualities of organization and self-government which will render their\nrevolts more formidable and disastrous to England than hitherto they\nhave proved. Irishmen have shown themselves in American campaigns\nnot soldiers merely, but generals, and not merely skilful tacticians\nin handling masses of troops before the enemy, but also able\norganizers, clever in moulding and disciplining untrained materials\ninto effective battalions. Habits of promptitude, self-control, and\nself-reliance belong to the Irish-American in perhaps even a higher\ndegree than to the Anglo-Saxon. The number is rapidly increasing\nof Irishmen who, having acquired those habits in America, repair\nto Ireland and communicate them in some degree to their brethren\nat home. The peasantry of Ireland--already familiarized with\ntrans-Atlantic ideas of independence and republicanism--are apt to\nbecome Americanized. Their sympathies are with the United States\nrather than with England. If war broke out between Great Britain and\nthe States, no one doubts but that the first American army flung upon\nIrish shores would find Ireland one vast recruiting field, and that\nswarms of soldiers of Irish descent would fly from distant lands to\nIreland to lend their aid in rendering it, throughout its length and\nbreadth, a garrison impregnable to British attacks. And no one doubts\nbut that England--even though eventually victorious by land and\nsea--would depart from such a conflict crippled in half her strength.\nIreland, alienated irrevocably, would be to England like a paralyzed\nlimb to the combatant, both a sign and a source of weakness. At no\nvery distant period from the termination of such a war, Ireland would\nvirtually become an American outpost, and would cease to be an\nintegral part of Great Britain. Without Ireland to rely upon, England\ncould scarcely be expected to maintain a position as a first-class\npower in the event of war among European nations. Mercenary troops\nmight, indeed, for a time supply the want of Irish soldiers and\nsailors. But the nation which has to hire foreign troops to fight its\nbattles is already in decay.\n\nIt is possible, however, that Ireland, instead of becoming the\noccasion of ruin and dismemberment to the British empire, may prove\nits mainstay and the bond of its integrity. If Ireland shall become\nprosperous and contented under the changed policy of England, if its\npopulation shall increase under prosperity, and if its nationality\nshall be recognized and fostered--then no combination of European\nfoes, unaided by America, can hope to prevail against the United\nKingdom of Great Britain and Ireland. But why should America withhold\nher hand, when opportunity shall have presented itself for dealing\na blow in repayment of old wrongs aggravated by recent disputes?\nFrance may demand the armed assistance of the States, whose existence\nas an independent government she so powerfully helped to create. He\nreads ill the face of nations who fails to perceive that the great\nbody of Americans desire to see the pride of England humbled, and\nthat they are treasuring up their wrath against the day of wrath.\nThe native-born Americans are moved by the transmitted rancor of\npast injustice. Those of Irish and Catholic descent have the wrongs\nof Ireland and of the Catholic Church to avenge. All the traditions\nof faith and patriotism are now arrayed against England, and the\ninfluence of the Irish and Catholic population of the States is\nsufficient to decide the political action of Congress in the\neventuality of the reasonableness of war with Great Britain becoming\na subject for discussion. Yet the Irish and Catholic element in\nthe American population might, under circumstances to be created\nby English policy, prove the means of restraining from an almost\nfratricidal contest the two great empires. Ireland may become\nso linked to England that any blow struck against England would\nequally harm Ireland. An enlightened legislation concerning the\nsoil of Ireland may lead to the break-up of absentee landlordism,\nand substitute tens of thousands of owners and occupiers in place\nof the few hundred feudal proprietors who now exact rack-rents from\nan impoverished tenantry. The multiplication of resident working\nfarm-owners may afford remunerative and permanent occupation to\nnumerous agricultural laborers for whom there now offers only an\nintermittent and precarious employment. The agricultural prosperity\nof Ireland is a powerful bond of union with England, the nearest and\nbest market for Irish produce. Another bond of union may be found\nin the grant of legislative independence, or such a modification of\nthe present parliamentary system as may place the disposal of purely\nIrish interests in the hands of Irish representatives, satisfy the\njust desires of the patriotic, and leave no room for sentimental\ngrievances to fester into international feuds. The Catholic religion,\nsubjected to no disabilities in either kingdom, and overshadowed by\nno hostile establishment--for Englishmen themselves in a few years\nwill remove their present church establishment in the interests of\ntheir church and of Protestantism--will form another tie between the\ncountries. English Catholics have always been loyal to the British\ngovernment. Irish Catholics may become just as loyal. Education may\nrender the rough Irish laborers, who frequent the centres of English\ncommerce and manufacture, as loyal as the most loyal in England, and\na valuable counterpoise to the ultra-democratic semi-infidels who\nform the dangerous mobs of London, Liverpool, and other vast trading\nand industrial cities. And if the social and political interests of\nCatholic Irishmen and of Catholics in England become recognized as\nidentical with those of English Protestants, then the union between\nGreat Britain and Ireland will be completely consolidated, and the\nIrish party in America will have neither excuse nor opportunity for\njoining any other party which may desire, disregarding the welfare\nof Ireland, to inflict a wound upon Great Britain. On the contrary,\nthe Irish and Catholic element in the States will be both able\nand willing to throw its effective influence into the scale upon\nthe side of peace and good-will, whenever the differences between\nthe cabinets of London and Washington demand settlement. Ireland\nwill thus indirectly become the mediator between the contending\nempires--the arbiter to reconcile the angry parent and the aggrieved\nson. But Ireland, to be enabled to act this part, must be cherished\nas Irish and Catholic, with its nationality unimpaired and its\nfaith untrammelled. And if the political interests of Great Britain\nshall be served by the flourishing condition of Irish Catholicism,\nthe religious interests of Protestant England will not necessarily\nbe damaged. Nay, it may prove an advantage to Protestantism to be\nbrought upon equal terms into close and harmonious relations with\nthe fervent faith of the Catholic Church, which nowhere appears to\ngreater advantage than in Ireland. Rationalism and scepticism are on\nthe increase in Great Britain and elsewhere, and will prove far more\ndangerous neighbors than the Church of Rome to the Church of England.\nInfidelity is an enemy against whom both would do well, if not to\nunite their strength, at least to direct their separate attacks. As\nrivals in opposing vice and unbelief, they may learn to respect each\nother, and, alas! have before them a field only too ample for their\nmost vigorous exertions.\n\n\n\n\nMARY.\n\n\n    Sweet name of Mary, name of names save One--\n      And that, my Queen, so wedded unto thine\n      Our hearts hear both in either, and enshrine\n    Instinctively the Mother with the Son--\n    The lisping child's new accent has begun,\n      Heaven-taught, with thee; first-fervent happy youth\n      Makes thee the watchword of its maiden truth;\n    Repentant age the hope of the undone.\n    To me, known late but timely, thou hast been\n      The noon-day freshness of a wooded height;\n      A vale of soothing waters; the delight\n    Of fadeless verdure in a desert scene;\n    And when, ere long, my day shall set serene,\n      Be Hesper[35] to an eve without a night.\n\n                                                    B. D. H.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[35] The evening star.\n\n\n\n\nEMERSON'S PROSE WORKS.[36]\n\n\nMr. Emerson's literary reputation is established, and placed beyond\nthe reach of criticism. No living writer surpasses him in his mastery\nof pure and classic English, or equals him in the exquisite delicacy\nand finish of his chiselled sentences, or the metallic ring of his\nstyle. It is only as a thinker and teacher that we can venture any\ninquiry into his merits; and as such we cannot suffer ourselves to be\nimposed upon by his oracular manner, nor by the apparent originality\neither of his views or his expressions.\n\nMr. Emerson has had a swarm both of admirers and of detractors. With\nmany he is a philosopher and sage, almost a god; while with others\nhe is regarded as an unintelligible mystic, babbling nonsense just\nfitted to captivate beardless young men and silly maidens with pretty\ncurls, who constituted years ago the great body of his hearers and\nworshippers. We rank ourselves in neither class, though we regard\nhim as no ordinary man, and as one of the deepest thinkers, as\nwell as one of the first poets, of our country. We know him as a\npolished gentleman, a genial companion, and a warm-hearted friend,\nwhose kindness does not pass over individuals and waste itself in a\nvague philanthropy. So much, at least, we can say of the man, and\nfrom former personal acquaintance as well as from the study of his\nwritings.\n\nMr. Emerson is no theorist, and is rather of a practical than of\na speculative turn of mind. What he has sought all his life, and\nperhaps is still seeking, is the real, the universal, and the\npermanent in the events of life and the objects of experience. The\nson of a Protestant minister, brought up in a Protestant community,\nand himself for some years a Protestant minister, he early learned\nthat the real, the universal, and permanent are not to be found in\nProtestantism; and assuming that Protestantism, in some or all its\nforms, is the truest exponent of the Christian religion, he very\nnaturally came to the conclusion that they are not to be found in\nChristianity. He saw that Protestantism is narrow, hollow, unreal,\na sham, a humbug, and, ignorant of the Catholic Church and her\nteaching, he considered that she must have less of reality, be even\nmore of a sham or humbug, than Protestantism itself. He passed then\nnaturally to the conclusion that all pretensions to a supernaturally\nrevealed religion are founded only in ignorance or craft, and\nrejected all of all religions, except what may be found in them that\naccords with the soul or the natural reason of all men. This may be\ngathered from his brief essay, entitled _Nature_, first published in\n1836. We quote a few paragraphs from the introduction:\n\n    \"Our age is retrospective. It builds the sepulchres of the\n    fathers. It writes biographies, histories, and criticism. The\n    foregoing generations beheld God and nature face to face; we\n    through their eyes. Why should not we also enjoy an original\n    relation to the universe? Why should not we have a poetry and\n    a philosophy of insight and not of tradition, and a religion\n    by revelation to us, and not a history of theirs?... The sun\n    shines to-day also. There is more wool and flax in the fields.\n    There are new lands, new men, new thoughts. Let us demand our\n    own works, and laws, and worship.\n\n    \"Undoubtedly we have no questions to ask which are\n    unanswerable. We must trust the perfection of creation so far\n    as to believe that whatever curiosity the order of things\n    has awakened in our minds, the order of things can satisfy.\n    Every man's condition is a solution in hieroglyphic to those\n    inquiries he would put. He acts it as life before he apprehends\n    it as truth. In like manner, nature is already, in its forms\n    and tendencies, describing its own design. Let us interrogate\n    the great apparition that shines so peacefully around us. Let\n    us inquire, To what end is nature?\n\n    \"All science has one aim, to find a theory of nature. We have\n    theories of races and of functions, but scarcely yet a remote\n    approach to an idea of creation. We are now so far from the\n    road to truth that religious teachers dispute and hate each\n    other, and speculative men are deemed unsound and frivolous.\n    But to a sound judgment, the most abstract truth is the most\n    practical. Whenever a true theory appears, it will be its own\n    evidence. Its test is, that it will explain all phenomena. Now\n    many are thought not only unexplained, but inexplicable--as\n    language, sleep, madness, dreams, beasts, sex.\" (Vol. i. pp. 5,\n    6.)\n\nThese extracts give us the key to Mr. Emerson's thought, which runs\nthrough all his writings, whether in prose or poetry; though more\nfully mastered and better defined in his later productions, essays,\nand lectures, than it was in his earliest production from which\nwe have quoted. In studying these volumes, we are convinced that\nwhat the writer is after is reality, of which this outward, visible\nuniverse, both as a whole and in all its parts, symbolizes. He seeks\nlife, not death; the living present, not the corpse of the past.\nUnder this visible world, its various and ever-varying phenomena,\nlies the real world, one, identical, universal, and immutable, which\nit copies, mimics, or symbolizes. He agrees with Plato that the\nreal thing is in the methexis, not in the mimesis; that is, in the\nidea, not in the individual and the sensible, the variable and the\nperishable. He wants unity and catholicity, and the science that does\nnot attain to them is no real science at all. But as the mimesis, in\nhis language the hieroglyphic, copies or imitates the methexic, we\ncan, by studying it, arrive at the methexic, the reality copied or\nimitated.\n\nWe do not pretend to understand Plato throughout, nor to reconcile\nhim always with himself; but as far as we do understand him, the\nreality, what must be known in order to have real science, is the\nidea, and it is only by ideas that real science is attained. Ideas\nare, then, both the object and the medium of knowledge. As the medium\nof knowledge, the idea may be regarded as the image it impresses on\nthe mimetic, or the individual and the sensible, as the seal on the\nwax. This image or impression is an exact _fac-simile_ of the idea as\nobject. Hence by studying it we arrive at the exact knowledge of the\nidea, or what is real, invariable, universal, and permanent in the\nobject we would know. The lower copies and reveals the next higher,\nand thus we may rise, step by step, from the lowest to the highest,\nto \"the first good and the first fair,\" to the good, the beautiful,\nor Being that is being in itself. Thus is it in science. But the\nsoul has two wings on which it soars to the empyrean, intelligence\nand love. The lowest form or stage of love is that of the sexes, a\nlove of the senses only; but this lowest love symbolizes a higher or\nideal love, rising stage by stage to the pure ideal, or the love of\nabsolute beauty, the beautiful in itself, the love to which the sage\naspires, and the only love in which he can rest or find repose.\n\nWe do not say that Mr. Emerson follows Plato in all respects; for\nhe occasionally deviates from him, sometimes for the better, and\nsometimes for the worse; but no one not tolerably well versed in the\nPlatonic philosophy can understand him. In his two essays on Plato,\nin his second volume, he calls him the Philosopher, and asserts that\nall who talk philosophy talk Plato. He also maintains that Plato\nrepresented all the ages that went before him, possessed all the\nscience of his contemporaries, and that none who have come after him\nhave been able to add any thing new to what he taught. He includes\nChristianity, Judaism, and Mohammedanism in Plato, who is far broader\nand more comprehensive than them all. Plato of all men born of woman\nstood nearest the truth of things, and in his intellectual and moral\ndoctrines surpassed all who went before or have come after him.\n\nWe find many things in Plato that we like, and we entirely agree with\nhim that the ideal is real; but we do not agree with Mr. Emerson,\nthat nothing in science has been added to the Platonic doctrine.\nWe think Aristotle made an important addition in his doctrine of\nentelechia; Leibnitz, in his definition of substance, making it a\n_vis activa_, and thus exploding the notion of passive or inert\nsubstances; and finally, Gioberti, by his doctrine of creation as a\ndoctrine, or rather principle, of science. Plato had no conception of\nthe creative act asserted by Moses in the first verse of _Genesis_.\nPlato never rose above the conception of the production of existences\nby way of formation, or the operation of the plastic force on a\npre\u00ebxisting and often intractable matter. He never conceived of the\ncreation of existences from nothing by the sole energy or power of\nthe creator. He held to the eternal existence of spirit and matter,\nand we owe to him principally the dualism and antagonism that have\noriginated the false asceticism which many attribute to Christian\nteaching; but which Christianity rejects, as is evident from its\ndoctrine of the Incarnation and that of the resurrection of the\nflesh. Gioberti has shown, as the writer thinks, that creation is no\nless a scientific principle than a Christian dogma. He has shown\nthat the creative act is the nexus between being and existences,\nand that it enters as the copula into the _primum philosophicum_,\nwithout which there could be no human mind, and consequently no\nhuman science. There are various other instances we might adduce\nin which people talk very good sense, even profound philosophical\nand theological truth, and yet do not talk Plato. We hardly think\nMr. Emerson himself will accept all the moral doctrines of Plato's\nRepublic, especially those relating to marriage and the promiscuous\nintercourse of the sexes; for Plato goes a little beyond what our\nfree-lovers have as yet proposed.\n\nAristotle gives us, undoubtedly, a philosophy, such as it is, and\na philosophy that enters largely into modern modes of thought and\nexpression; but we can hardly say as much of Plato. He has profound\nthoughts, no doubt, and many glimpses of a high--if you will, the\nhighest order of truth; but only when he avowedly follows tradition,\nand speaks according to the wisdom of the ancients. He seems to us\nto give us a method rather than a philosophy, and very little of\nour modern philosophical language is derived from him. Several of\nthe Greek fathers, and St. Augustine among the Latins, incline to\nPlatonism; but none of them, so far as we are acquainted with them,\nfollowed him throughout. The medi\u00e6val doctors, though not ignorant of\nPlato, almost without an exception prefer Aristotle. The revival of\nPlatonism in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries brought with it a\nrevival of heathenism; and Plato has since been held in much higher\nesteem with the heterodox and makers of fanciful systems than with\nthe orthodox and simple believers. We trace his influence in what\nthe romancers call chivalry, which is of pagan origin, though some\npeople are ill-informed enough to accredit it to the church; and we\ntrace to his doctrine of love, so attractive to many writers not in\nother respects without merit, the modern babble about \"the heart,\"\nthe confusion of charity with philanthropy, and the immoral doctrines\nof free love, which strike at Christian marriage and the Christian\nfamily. The \"heart,\" in the language of the Holy Scriptures,\nmeans the affections of the will, and the love they enjoin as the\nfulfilment of the law and the bond of perfection is charity, a\nsupernatural virtue, in which both the will and the understanding\nare operative, not a simple, natural sentiment, or affection of the\nsensibility, or the love of the beautiful, and dependent on the\nimagination.\n\nMr. Emerson is right enough in making the sensible copy or imitate\nthe intelligible, what there is true in Swedenborg's doctrine of\ncorrespondences; but wrong in making the mimetic purely phenomenal,\nunreal, a mere sense-show. The mimetic, the mimesis, by which\nPlato means the individual and the sensible, the variable and the\ntransitory, is not the only real, nor the highest real, as sensists\nand materialists hold; but is as real in its order and degree as\nthe methexic or ideal. Hence, St. Thomas is able to maintain that\nthe sensible species, or accidents, as he calls them, can subsist\nwithout their subject, or, as we would say, the sensible body\nwithout the intelligible body; and therefore, that the doctrine\nof transubstantiation involves no contradiction; for it is not\npretended that the sensible body undergoes any change, or that the\nsensible body of our Lord is present in the blessed eucharist.\nSo St. Augustine distinguishes the visible--the sensible--body\nand the spiritual--intelligible--body, and holds both to be real.\nThe individual is as real as the species--the _socratitas_, in\nthe language of the schoolmen, as the _humanitas_--for neither is\npossible without the other. The sort of idealism, as it is called,\nthat resolves the individual into the species, or the sensible\ninto the intelligible, and thus denies the external world, is as\nunphilosophical as the opposite doctrine, that resolves the species\ninto the individual and the intelligible into the sensible. Even\nPlato, the supposed father of idealism, does not make the mimesis\nabsolutely unreal. For, to say nothing of the pre\u00ebxistent matter, the\nimage, picture, which is the exact copy of its ideal prototype, is a\nreal image, picture, or copy.\n\nBut Mr. Emerson, if he recognizes the methexis at all, either\nconfounds it with real and necessary being, or makes it purely\nphenomenal, and therefore unreal, as distinguished from real and\nnecessary being. Methexis is a Greek word, and means, etymologically\nand as used by Plato, participation. Plato's doctrine is, that all\ninferior existences exist by participation of the higher, through\nthe medium of what he calls the plastic soul, whence the Demiourgos\nof the Gnostics. His error was in making the plastic soul instead\nof the creative act of God the medium of the participation. Still,\nPlato made it the participation of ideas or the ideal, and, in the\nlast analysis, of Him who is being in himself. Hence, he made a\ndistinction, if not the proper distinction, between the methexis and\nGod, or being by participation and the absolute underived being, or\nbeing in itself.\n\nMr. Emerson recognizes no real participation, and either excludes\nthe methexis or identifies it with God, or absolute being. He thus\nreduces the categories, as does Cousin, to being and phenomenon, or,\nin the only barbarism in language he permits himself, the ME--_le\nmoi_--and the NOT ME--_le non moi_--the root-error, so to speak, of\nFichte. He takes himself as the central force, and holds it to be the\nreality expressed in the NOT ME. The NOT ME being purely phenomenal,\nonly the ME is real. By the ME he, of course, does not mean his own\npersonality, but the reality which underlies and expresses itself\nin it. The absolute ICH, or ego, of Fichte is identical in all men,\nis the real man, the \"one man,\" as Mr. Emerson says; and this \"one\nman\" is the reality, the being, the substance, the force of the whole\nphenomenal universe. There is, then, no methexis imitated, copied,\nor mimicked by the mimesis, or the individual and sensible universe.\nThe mimesis copies not a participated or created intelligible, but,\nhowever it may be diversified by degrees, it copies directly God\nhimself, the one real being and only substance of all things. If\nwe regard ourselves as phenomenal, we are unreal, and therefore\nnothing; if as real, as substantive, as force, we do not participate,\n_mediante_ the creative act, of real being, but are identically it,\nor identical with it; which makes the author not only a pantheist,\nbut a more unmitigated pantheist than Plato himself.\n\nNeither Plato nor Mr. Emerson recognizes any causative force in the\nmimesis. Plato recognizes causative force only in ideas, though he\nconcedes a power of resistance to the pre\u00ebxistent matter, and finds\nin its intractableness the cause of evil; Mr. Emerson recognizes\ncausative or productive force only in the absolute, and therefore\ndenies the existence of second causes, as he does all distinction\nbetween first cause and final cause; which is the very essence of\npantheism, which Gioberti rightly terms the \"supreme sophism.\"\n\nWe have used the Greek terms _methexis_ and _mimesis_ after Plato,\nas Gioberti has done in his posthumous works, but not precisely\nin Gioberti's sense. Gioberti identifies the methexis with the\nplastic soul asserted by Plato, and revived by old Ralph Cudworth,\nan Anglican divine of the seventeenth century; but though we make\nthe methexis causative in the order of second causes, we do not\nmake it productive of the mimesis. It means what are called genera\nand species; but even in the order of second causes, genera are\ngenerative or productive only as specificated, and species only as\nindividualized. God must have created the genus specificated and the\nspecies individualized before either could be active or productive\nas second cause. The genus does not and cannot exist without\nspecification, nor the species without individualization, any more\nthan the individual can exist without the species, or the species\nwithout the genus. For instance, man is the species, according to\nthe schoolmen, the genus is animal, the _differentia_ is reason, and\nhence man is defined a rational animal. But the genus animal, though\nnecessary to its existence, cannot generate the species man, any more\nthan it could have generated itself. The species can exist only as\nimmediately individuated by the first cause, and hence the pretence\nof some scientists--more properly sciolists,--that new species are\nformed either by development or by natural selection, is simply\nabsurd, as has been well shown by the Duke of Argyll. God creates the\nspecies as well as the genera; and it is fairly inferred from the\nScriptures that he creates all things in their genera and species\n\"after their kind.\" Furthermore, if God had not created the human\nspecies individualized in Adam, male and female, there could have\nbeen no men by natural generation, any more than if there had been\nno human species at all.\n\nThis, as we understand it, excludes alike the plastic soul of the\nPlatonists and the Demiourgos of the Gnostics, and teaches that the\nmimesis is as directly created by God himself as the methexis. Mr.\nEmerson, indeed, uses neither of these Platonic terms, though if\nhe had, he would, with his knowledge of the Christian doctrine of\ncreation, have detected the error of Plato, and most likely have\nescaped his own. The term _methexis_--participation--excludes the old\nerror that God generates the universe, which is rather favored by\nthe terms genera and species. We use the term _mimesis_ because it\nserves to us to express the fact that the lower copies or imitates\nthe higher, and therefore the doctrine of St. Thomas, that \"Deus\nest similitudo rerum omnium,\" or that God is himself the type or\nmodel after which the universe is created, and which each and every\nexistence in its own order and degree strives to copy or represent.\nThe error of Plato is, that he makes the methexis an emanation rather\nthan a creature, and the plastic power that produces the mimesis;\nthe error of Mr. Emerson, as we view the matter, is, that he makes\nthe mimetic purely phenomenal, therefore unreal, sinks it in the\nmethexic, and the methexis itself in God, as the one only being or\nsubstance, the _natura naturans_ of Spinoza.\n\nWith Plato, the mimesis is the product of the methexic, but is itself\npassive, and the sooner the soul is emancipated from it the better;\nthough what is the soul in his system of ideas we understand not.\nWith Mr. Emerson, it is neither active nor passive, for it is purely\nphenomenal, therefore nothing. With us it is real, and, like all\nreal existences, it is active, and is not a simple image or copy of\nthe methexic or the ideal, but is in its order and degree a _vis\nactiva_, and copies or imitates actively the divine type or the _idea\nexemplaris_ in the divine mind, after which it is created.\n\nMr. Emerson says, in the introduction to his essay on _Nature_,\n\"Philosophically considered, the universe is composed of nature and\nsoul.\" But all activity is in the soul, and what is distinguishable\nfrom the soul is purely phenomenal, and, if we may take his essay on\nthe _Over-soul_, not republished in these volumes, is but the soul's\nown projection of itself. The soul alone is active, productive, and\nit is myself, my own ego; not indeed in its personal limitations and\nfeebleness, but in its absoluteness, as the absolute or impersonal\n_Ich_ of Fichte, and identically God, who is the great, the absolute\nI AM.\n\nThe error is obvious. It consists in the denial or in the overlooking\nof the fact that God creates substances, and that every substance\nis, as Leibnitz defines it, a force, a _vis activa_, acting always\nfrom its own centre outward. Whatever actually exists is active,\nand there is and can be no passivity in nature. Hence, Aristotle\nand the schoolmen after him call God, who is being and being in its\nplenitude, _actus purissimus_, or most pure act, in whom there are\nno possibilities to be actualized. Mr. Emerson errs in his first\nprinciples, in not recognizing the fact that God creates substances,\nand that every substance is an activity, therefore causative\neither _ad intra_ or _ad extra_, and that every created substance\nis causative in the order of second causes. What we maintain in\nopposition both to him and Plato is, that these created substances\nare at once methexic and mimetic in their activity.\n\nIt were an easy task to show that whatever errors there may be, or\nmay be supposed to be, in Mr. Emerson's works grow out of the two\nfundamental errors we have indicated--the identification of soul,\nfreed from its personal limitations, as in Adam, John, and Richard,\nwith God, or the real being, substance, force, or activity, and\nthe assumption that whatever is distinguishable from God is purely\nphenomenal, an apparition, a sense-show, a mere bubble on the\nsurface of the ocean of being, as we pointed out in our comments on\nthe proceedings of the Free Religionists, in the magazine for last\nNovember, and to which we beg leave to refer our readers.\n\nYet, though we have known Mr. Emerson personally ever since 1836,\nhave held more than one conversation with him, listened to several\ncourses of lectures from him, and read and even studied the greater\npart, if not all of his works, as they issued from the press, we must\nconfess that, in reperusing them preparatory to writing this brief\nnotice, we have been struck, as we never were before, with the depth\nand breadth of his thought, as well as with the singular force and\nbeauty of his expression. We appreciate him much higher both as a\nthinker and as an observer, and we give him credit for a depth of\nfeeling, an honesty of purpose, an earnest seeking after truth, we\nhad not previously awarded him in so great a degree, either publicly\nor privately. We are also struck with his near approach to the truth\nas we are taught it. He seems to us to come as near to the truth as\none can who is so unhappy as to miss it.\n\nWe regard it as Mr. Emerson's great misfortune, that his early\nProtestant training led him to regard the Catholic question as\n_res adjucata_, and to take Protestantism, in some one or all\nof its forms, as the truest and best exponent of Christianity.\nProtestantism is narrow, superficial, unintellectual, vague,\nindefinite, sectarian, and it was easy for a mind like his to\npierce through its hollow pretensions, to discover its unspiritual\ncharacter, its want of life, its formality, and its emptiness. It\nwas not difficult to comprehend that it was only a dead corse, and\na mutilated corse at that. The Christian mysteries it professed to\nretain, as it held them, were lifeless dogmas, with no practical\nbearing on life, and no reason in the world for believing them.\nSuch a system, having no relation with the living and moving world,\nand no reason in the nature or constitution of things, could not\nsatisfy a living and thinking man, in downright earnest for a truth\nat least as broad and as living as his own soul. It was too little,\ntoo insignificant, too _mesquine_, too much of a dead and putrefying\nbody to satisfy either his intellect or his heart. If that is the\ntrue exponent of Christianity, and the most enlightened portion of\nmankind say it is, why shall I belie my own understanding, my own\nbetter nature, by professing to believe and reverence it? No; let me\nbe a man, be true to myself, to my own reason and instincts, not a\nmiserable time-server or a contemptible hypocrite.\n\nIf Mr. Emerson had not been led to regard the Catholic question as\nclosed, except to the dwellers among tombs, and to the ignorant and\nsuperstitious, and had studied the church with half the diligence\nhe has Plato, Mohammed, or Swedenborg, it is possible that he would\nhave found in Christianity the life and truth, the reality, unity,\nand catholicity he has so long and so earnestly sought elsewhere and\nfound not. Certain it is, that whatever affirmative truth he holds\nis held and taught by the church in its proper place, its real\nrelations, and in its integrity. The church does not live in the past\nnor dwell only among tombs; she is an ever-present and ever-living\nchurch, and presents to us not a dead historical Christ, but the\never-living and ever-present Christ, as really and truly present to\nus as he was to the disciples and apostles with whom he conversed\nwhen he went about in Judea doing good, without having where to\nlay his head, and not more veiled from our sight now than he was\nthen from theirs. Does she not hold the sublime mystery of the Real\nPresence, which, if an individual fact, is also a universal principle?\n\nThe Christian system, if we may so speak, is not an after-thought\nin creation, or something superinduced on the Creator's works. It\nhas its ground and reason in the very constitution of things. All\nthe mysteries taught or dogmas enjoined by the church are universal\nprinciples; they are truly catholic, the very principles according\nto which the universe, visible or invisible, is constructed, and\nnot one of them can be denied without denying a first principle of\nlife and of science. Mr. Emerson says, in a passage we have quoted,\n\"All science has one aim, namely, to find a theory of nature,\" and\nseems to concede that it has not yet succeeded in finding it. The\nchurch goes beyond even the aim of science, and gives, at least\nprofesses to give, not a theory of truth, but the truth itself; she\nis not a method, but that to which the true method leads. She is the\nbody of Him who is \"the way, the truth, and the life;\" she gives\nus, not as the philosophers, her views of the truth, but the truth\nitself, in its reality, its unity, its integrity, its universality,\nits immutability. At least such is her profession; for the faith\nshe teaches is the substance--hypostasis--of the things to be hoped\nfor, and the evidence of things not seen--_substantia sperandarum,\nargumentum non apparentium_.\n\nSuch being her profession, made long before Protestantism was\nborn, and continued to be made since with no stammering tongue or\nabatement of confidence, the pretence that judgment has gone against\nher is unfounded. Many have condemned her, as the Jewish Sanhedrim\ncondemned our Lord, and called on the Roman Procurator to execute\njudgment against him; but she has no more staid condemned than he\nstaid confined in the new tomb hewn from the rock in which his body\nwas laid, and far more are they who admit her professions among the\nenlightened and civilized than they who deny them. No man has a\nright to be regarded as a philosopher or sage who has not at least\nthoroughly examined her titles, and made up his mind with a full\nknowledge of the cause.\n\nIn the Catholic Church we have found the real presence, and unity,\nand catholicity which we sought long and earnestly, and could find\nnowhere else, and which Mr. Emerson, after a still longer and equally\nearnest search, has not found at all. He looks not beyond nature,\nand nature is not catholic, universal, or the whole. It is not one,\nbut manifold and variable. It cannot tell its origin, medium, or\nend. With all the light Mr. Emerson has derived from nature, or\nfrom nature and soul united, there is infinite darkness behind,\ninfinite darkness before, and infinite darkness all around him. He\nsays, \"Every man's condition is a solution in hieroglyphic of those\ninquiries he would put.\" Suppose it is so, what avail is that to him\nwho has lost or never had the key to the hieroglyph? Knows he to\ninterpret the hieroglyph in which the solution is concealed? Can he\nread the riddle of the sphinx? He has tried his hand at it in his\npoem of the Sphinx, and has only been able to answer that\n\n    \"Each answer is a lie.\"\n\nIt avails us little to be told where the solution is, if we are not\ntold what it is, or if only told that every solution is false as soon\nas told. Hear him; to man he says,\n\n    \"Thou art the unanswered question;\n      Couldst see thy proper eye,\n    Alway it asketh, asketh;\n      And each answer is a lie:\n    So take thy quest through nature,\n      It through a thousand natures ply;\n    Ask on, thou clothed eternity;\n      Time is the false reply.\"\n\nThe answer, if it means any thing, means that man is \"a clothed\neternity,\" whatever that may mean, eternally seeking an answer to the\nmystery of his own being, and each answer he can obtain is a lie; for\nonly eternity can comprehend eternity and tell what it is. Whence\nhas he learned that man, the man-child, is \"a clothed eternity,\" and\ntherefore God, who only is eternal?\n\nNow, eternity is above time, and above the world of time,\nconsequently above nature. Catholicity, by the very force of the\nterm, must include all truth, and therefore the truth of the\nsupernatural as well as of the natural. But Mr. Emerson denies the\nsupernatural, and does not, of course, even profess to have any\nknowledge that transcends nature. How, then, can he pretend to have\nattained to catholic truth? He himself restricts nature to the\nexternal universe, which is phenomenal, and to soul, by which he\nmeans himself. But are there no phenomena without being or substance\nwhich appears or which shows itself in them? Is this being or\nsubstance the soul, or, in the barbarism he adopts, the ME? If so,\nthe NOT-ME is only the phenomena of the ME, and of course identical\nwith myself, as he implies in what he says of the \"one man.\" Then in\nme, and emanating from me, are all men, and the whole of nature. How\ndoes he know this? Does he learn it from nature?\n\nOf course, Mr. Emerson means not this, even if his various utterances\nimply it. He uses the word _creation_, and we suppose he intends,\nnotwithstanding his systematic views, if such he has, contradict\nit, to use it in its proper sense. Then he must hold the universe,\nincluding, according to his division, nature and soul, has been\ncreated, and if created, it has a creator. The creator must be\nsuperior, above nature and soul, and therefore in the strictest sense\nof the word supernatural; and as reason is the highest faculty of the\nsoul, the supernatural must also be supra-rational.\n\nDoes the creator create for a purpose, for an end? and if so, what\nis that end or purpose, and the medium or means of fulfilling it,\nwhether on his part or on the part of the creature? Here, then,\nwe have the assertion of a whole order of truth, very real and\nvery important to be known, which transcends the truth Mr. Emerson\nprofesses to have, and which is not included in it. We say again,\nthen, that he has not attained to catholicity, and we also say that,\nby the only method he admits, he cannot attain to it. How can he\npretend to have attained to catholicity, and that he has already a\ntruth more universal than Christianity reveals, when he must confess\nthat without the knowledge of a supernatural and supra-rational truth\nhe cannot explain his origin or end, or know the conditions of his\nexistence, or the means of gaining his end?\n\nMr. Emerson says, as we have quoted him,\n\n    \"Undoubtedly we have no questions to ask which are\n    unanswerable. We must trust the perfection of the creation so\n    far as to believe that whatever curiosity the order of things\n    has awakened in our minds, the order of things can satisfy.\"\n\n    Alway it asketh, asketh,\n    And each answer is a lie.\n\nThere is here a grand mistake. If he had said the Creator instead\nof creation, there would have been truth and great propriety in\nthe author's assertion. Nature--and we mean by nature the whole\ncreated order--excites us to ask many very troublesome questions,\nwhich nature is quite incompetent to answer. The fact that nature is\ncreated, proves that she is, both as a whole and in all her parts,\ndependent, not independent, and therefore does not and cannot suffice\nfor herself. Unable to suffice for herself, she cannot suffice for\nthe science of herself; for science must be of that which is, not of\nthat which is not.\n\nMr. Emerson, we presume, struck with the narrowness and\ninconsistencies of all the religions he had studied, and finding that\nthey are all variable and transitory in their forms, yet thought\nthat he also discovered something in them, or underlying them all,\nwhich is universal, invariable, and permanent, and which they are\nall honest efforts of the great soul to realize. He therefore came\nto the conclusion that the sage can accept none of these narrow,\nvariable, and transitory forms, and yet can reject none of them as\nto the great, invariable, and underlying principles, which in fact\nis all they have that is real or profitable. To distinguish between\nthe transient and permanent in religion was the common aim of the\nBoston movement from 1830 to 1841, when we ourselves began to turn\nour own mind, though very timidly and at a great distance, toward\nthe church. Mr. Emerson, Miss Margaret Fuller, A. Bronson Alcott, and\nMr. Theodore Parker regarded the permanent elements of all religions\nas the natural patrimony or products of human nature. The present\nwriter differed from them, by ascribing their origin to supernatural\nrevelation made to our first parents in the garden, universally\ndiffused by the dispersion of the race, and transmitted to us by the\ntraditions of all nations. Following out this view, the grace of God\nmoving and assisting, we found our way to the Catholic Church, in\nwhich the form and the invariable and permanent principle, or rather,\nthe form growing out of the principle, are inseparable, and are\nfitted by the divine hand to each other.\n\nThe others, falling back on a sort of transcendental illuminism, sunk\ninto pure naturalism, where such of them as are still living, and\na whole brood of young disciples who have sprung up since, remain,\nand, like the old Gnostics, suppose themselves spiritual men and\nwomen in possession of the secret of the universe. There was much\nlife, mental activity, and honest purpose in the movement; but those\nwho had the most influence in directing its course could not believe\nthat any thing good could come out of Nazareth, and so turned their\nbacks on the church. They thought they could find something deeper,\nbroader, and more living than Christianity, and have lost not only\nthe transient, but even the permanent in religion.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[36] _The Prose Works of Ralph Waldo Emerson_, New and revised\nedition. Boston: Fields, Osgood & Co. 1870. 2 vols. 16mo.\n\n\n\n\nTHE HOLY-WEEK OF 1869 IN HAVANA.\n\nGOOD-FRIDAY. HOLY-SATURDAY. EASTER-SUNDAY.\n\n\nGOOD-FRIDAY.\n\nSad indeed was the aspect of all things within the cathedral\non Good-Friday morning. Black draperies covered the pulpit,\nreading-desks, and seats reserved for the authorities, and every\none was attired in mourning. Instead of the rose-color and blue of\nHoly-Thursday, the ladies now wore black or violet silks and satins\nwith jet ornaments.\n\nAll the personages of the preceding day were present, and the\nreligious services were in nowise different from those of the\nCatholic Church in other lands, with the exception that, in the\nreading of the passion, at the words \"_gave up the ghost_,\" all\nknelt, but did not kiss the ground, as is the custom in France.\n\nDuring the adoration of the cross, in which the captain-general,\napparently almost too ill to stand, and the other gentlemen took\npart, the choir sang the beautiful hymn _Pange lingua_, with its\ntender burden of _Crux fidelis_. Never did it sound to me more\ntouching.\n\n    \"Sing, O my tongue! the Victor's praise;\n    For him the noblest trophy raise,\n    The victory of his cross proclaim,\n    His glory and his laurelled fame;\n    Sing of his conquests, when he proved\n    The Saviour of the souls he loved.\n\n    O faithful cross! thou stand'st alone;\n    None like thee in our woods is grown,\n    None can with thy rich growth compare,\n    Or leaves like thine, or flowerets bear.\n    Sweet wood, sweet nails, both sweet and fair,\n    Sweet is the precious weight ye bear.\"\n\nThe adoration terminated, the procession was formed, exactly as\non the day before, to bring back the Blessed Sacrament from the\nsepulchre. On reaching the foot of the steps, the captain-general\ndelivered up to the bishop the key he had worn suspended from his\nneck since the preceding morning. As the procession returned, the\nnoble strains of the _Vexilla regis_ resounded through the great\nchurch.\n\n    \"The standard of our King unfurled\n    Proclaims triumphant to the world\n    The cross, where Life would suffer death\n    To gain life with his dying breath!\"\n\nMy heart beat faster as I listened to the glorious hymn!\n\nThe communion made, vespers were chanted in grave and mournful tones,\nand the service was concluded. As the bishop descended the nave to\nleave the cathedral, the little girls of the nuns' schools crowded\naround him to kiss his hand; and it was very pretty to see them clasp\nhis fingers, and look up in his kind face with a confiding smile.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAs it had been officially announced that the meditation on the seven\nwords of Jesus on the cross, with the ceremony of the descent from\nthe cross, to be followed by the procession of the interment, were to\ntake place, as is usual every year, that afternoon in the church of\n_San Juan de Dios_, I determined to be present.\n\nAt three o'clock, accordingly, I stationed myself in a shady\ncorner, not far from the principal entrance of _San Juan_, among\na crowd of soldiers, volunteers, and colored people. All gazed at\nme inquisitively. I looked like a lady; but my somewhat Andalusian\nphysiognomy, shaded by the black lace mantilla, put them out a\nlittle. I heard them at last decide that I was an _estranjera_,\n(stranger,) and consequently considered capable of, and permitted,\nany eccentricity, without derogating from my claim to respect.\nTwenty minutes passed away thus; a south wind was blowing, and great\nwater-laden clouds were fast covering the sky; the heat was very\noppressive, and soon heavy drops of rain began to fall, and every one\nrushed to shelter. I ran back to the cathedral, my nearest refuge.\nThe _Tenebr\u00e6_ had just commenced, and I sat there and listened to the\ndoleful lamentations of Jeremiah, and the wails of the holy women,\nmingling with the thunder-crashes and the noise of the pouring rain,\nwhich fell as it only falls within the tropics. It was a combination\nof sounds not easily to be forgotten.\n\nAt half-past four, the storm was over, and the sky clear and blue\nonce more, so I determined to hasten to _San Juan_, and, though too\nlate to hear the meditation, still witness the descent from the\ncross. To my surprise, on going to the door I found it impossible\nto leave the church; the whole place in front of the cathedral was\nknee-deep in water, and all the streets leading from it looked like\nswift-flowing rivers! Not until five o'clock did the water subside\nsufficiently to permit me to cross the street conducting to _San\nJuan_, where, however, I fortunately arrived in time for the ceremony\nI so much wished to see.\n\nThe high altar had been removed, and in its place, on an elevated\nplatform, were erected three great crosses, the centre one bearing\nthe image, large as life, of our Saviour, the other two those of the\nthieves crucified with him; the face of the repentant sinner was\nturned lovingly toward his Lord, that of the unrepentant looked away\nwith a scowl.\n\nThe figure of the victim was fearfully natural--the pallor of death\nwas on his blood-stained brow, the gash in his side, and his mangled\nhands and feet were livid. Two priests, mounted on ladders placed\nagainst the arms of the cross, were in the act of taking down the\nwriting when I got near enough to see well. At the command of the\npreacher, who had just finished the meditation, and who directed them\nfrom the pulpit, they then proceeded to draw out the nail from the\nright hand; when loosened from the tree, the arm fell stiffly and as\nif dead; before the other was freed, long and wide linen bands were\npassed under both, and around the body, to sustain it and prevent\nit from falling forward. _Llorad lagrimas de sangre_--\"Weep tears\nof blood,\" cried the preacher while this was being done amid the\nbreathless silence of the spectators, \"he died for you!\" So solemnly,\nso tenderly did the priests perform their office, that it seemed no\nrepresentation, but dreadful reality, and my cheeks grew cold, and\nmy heart throbbed painfully when the pale, bruised body was gently\nlowered and borne to the bier waiting to receive it.\n\nYes, this cruel death He died for us; but, O true and loving women!\none sweet and proud remembrance will be ours for all eternity--_our_\nkiss betrayed him not, nor _our_ tongue denied--\n\n    \"While even the apostle left him to his doom,\n    _We_ lingered round his cross, and watched his tomb!\"\n\nThe preacher now descended from the pulpit, and quitted the church in\ncompany with the other assistant priests; and the direction seemed\nto be left in the hands of a fraternity called _los Hermanos de la\nSoledad_--the Brethren of Solitude--a set of tall, fine-looking black\nmen, many with thin lips and _almost_ Roman noses. They were dressed\nin robes of black glazed calico, with white lace tippets.\n\nA quarter of an hour elapsed; the church remained crowded, but\nthere were no signs of preparation for the procession. Presently a\nhandsome, authoritative-mannered personage, evidently a Spaniard,\nentered hastily, and, pushing his way unceremoniously through the\npeople, sought the members of the brotherhood, to whom he evidently\ngave some orders, and then went away. A great silence prevailed, and\nevery one seemed to be waiting for something. I at last mustered up\ncourage to ask a brother when the procession would commence.\n\n_No hay procesion hasta el a\u00f1o que viene_--\"There will be no\nprocession until next year\"--he answered in a very loud voice.\n\n_Pero, se\u00f1or, en el diario_--\"But, sir, in the newspaper--\" I began.\n\"_No hay procesion hasta el a\u00f1o que viene_,\" he repeated louder still.\n\nThe women broke forth in murmurs; but not a man spoke, though\ncompressed lips and scowling brows showed sufficiently what was\npassing within. I must not omit to remark that the congregation\nconsisted almost entirely of colored creoles.\n\nBy dint of soft but firmly continued pushing, and a pleasant smile\nwhen the individual I elbowed looked grimly at me, I forced my way\nout of the disagreeable pack of volunteers and negroes, men and\nboys, that surrounded me, to the chancel, where I found a number\nof well-dressed and respectable-looking colored ladies seated on\nthe platform. There the discontent was louder, and I understood\ndistinctly that the disappointment was attributed more to the\nill-will of their rulers than to the bad state of the weather.\nOne woman, particularly, exclaimed angrily several times, and\nsufficiently loud to be heard by all in that end of the building,\n_Hay procesion para los Espa\u00f1oles, pero no para nosotros_--\"There are\nprocessions for the Spaniards, but not for us.\"\n\nHowever, there was nothing to be done but to submit; so a few\npersons went quietly away, and I at last succeeded in obtaining a\nclose view of the bier. It was in the form of a sarcophagus with\nopen sides, placed on a trestle concealed by black velvet drapery\nspotted with silver stars; the upper part very tastefully decorated\nwith white and lilac flowers. The image lying within was covered\nwith a cloth of silver tissue, the head and feet left bare. Close by\nstood another trestle, also covered with ornamented black velvet,\nand supporting a small platform, on which stood the figures of the\nBlessed Virgin, in deep grief, holding in her hand a very handsome\nlace pocket-handkerchief, and of St. John, with a profusion of fair\nringlets, sustaining her in his arms. The bier, followed by the\nVirgin and St. John, carried by the members of the black _Hermandad_,\nescorted by soldiers and military music, and accompanied by a vast\nnumber of people, constitutes the \"procession of the interment,\"\nwhich every Good-Friday (when permitted) leaves the old church of\n_San Juan de Dios_, passes through many streets of the city, and\nbefore the palace of the captain-general, and stops at the cathedral,\ninto which it enters, and where the images are finally deposited with\ngreat solemnity. This year, as we have seen, the procession did not\ntake place.\n\nWhile examining with interest these curious remains of the piety\nof the first settlers in the island, I heard some one cry out, _No\ndeja ninguno salir_--\"Let no one go out\"--and at the same moment saw\nsome soldiers lifting up and looking under the velvet draperies as\nif searching for some one. Five very uncomfortable minutes followed;\nthe door by which I had entered was blocked up with soldiers and\nvolunteers, every one was frightfully silent--and I am not a heroine!\nAt last the people were allowed to go out by one door, while the\nsoldiers and volunteers slowly filled up the church by the other.\n\nExceedingly great was the relief I felt when I found myself safely\nseated in the cars, (which in consequence of the rain had been\npermitted to enter the city and station themselves in their usual\nplace,) and on my way home, where I arrived very tired and almost\ndisgusted with sight-seeing.\n\n\nHOLY-SATURDAY.\n\nAt seven o'clock in the morning of the \"_Sabado de Gloria_,\" the\n\"Saturday of Glory,\" as the Spaniards beautifully and expressively\ncall this great day, I was already established in my usual place\nin the nave of the cathedral, though the religious ceremonies were\nnot to commence until eight. The attendance of the public generally\nwas less than on Maundy-Thursday and Good-Friday, and none of the\nsuperior authorities of Havana, nor military and civil functionaries,\nwere present.\n\nThe new fire was lighted and blessed precisely as is done with us,\nand the five grains of incense placed on the paschal candle; which,\nhowever, was not a tall, thick taper, as in other countries, but\na veritable _pillar_ of wax, about a yard high and six inches in\ndiameter; transmitting to us most probably an exact resemblance of\nthat column of wax upon which the patriarch of Alexandria used to\ninscribe the paschal epoch and the movable feasts, and which in\nprogress of time was employed as a torch during the paschal night,\nand at last came to be regarded as the symbol of the resuscitated\nSaviour, the true light of the world.\n\nAfter reading the prophecies, the deacon, preceded by the holy cross\nand the paschal candle, and accompanied by the clergy and many of\nthe faithful present, went in procession to bless the new water and\nthe baptismal fonts. This ceremony also was performed exactly as it\nis with us. At its conclusion the deacon returned to the high altar,\nand after sprinkling it and the congregation with the newly-blessed\nwater, the short mass of the day commenced.\n\nScarcely had the officiating priest begun to intone the _Gloria_,\nwhen the central door of the church burst open, letting in a flood\nof golden light; the cannon fired, the drums beat, the bells rang\nout, and the loud organ pealed forth a triumphant strain, while\nvoices that seemed to come from heaven repeated high and clear, with\ndelicious harmony, _Gloria in excelsis Deo!_\n\nWe all simultaneously fell on our knees; for myself, I can say that\nnever in my life before had I experienced such rapturous emotion.\nNever before had I so perfectly realized the triumph of life over\ndeath! Never before, O my God! had I felt so deeply what it was to\npraise thee, to bless thee, to adore thee, to glorify thee with my\nwhole heart. _Gloria in excelsis Deo!_\n\n    \"God the Redeemer liveth! He who took\n    Man's nature on him, and in human shroud\n    Veiled his immortal glory! He is risen--\n    God the Redeemer liveth! And behold\n    The gates of life and immortality\n    Opened to all that breathe!\"\n\nThe Alleluia was chanted in the same spirit of joy and exultation,\nand the services concluded.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWithout the church all was now gayety and bustle. The streets were\ncrowded as if by magic with vehicles of every description. The shops\nwere all open; the sweetmeat and fruit-sellers at their posts,\nlooking as if they had never been absent; the lottery-ticket venders\nin full cry. The horses and mules had their heads decorated with\nbows and rosettes and streamers of bright-colored ribbons, and their\ntails elegantly plaited and tied up to one side of their saddle or\nharness, with scarlet braid. Even the quiet, patient oxen sported a\nbit of finery, and wore flowers on the ponderous yoke that weighed\ndown their gentle heads. Crowds of busy men hurried hither and\nthither; gayly-dressed ladies drove about in their stylish quitrins;\nloud talking and laughing was the order of the day among the colored\npopulation; a riff-raff of little blackies pervaded the city, happily\n_without_ the squibs, crackers, and fire-arms permitted them until\nthis year, but quite sufficiently boisterous to be intolerable; while\nthe church-bells kept ringing out, adding their clang to the noisy\nconfusion, and _not_ with that merry musical chime we are accustomed\nto hear in England, the land of the scientific, well-trained\nbell-ringer. But, indeed, nowhere since I listened years ago to the\nbells of Saint Mary's in dear old smoky Manchester have I heard a\nregular triple bob-major!\n\n\nEASTER-SUNDAY.\n\nThe sun was not yet up when I started for town on Easter morning.\nThe procession of the resurrection--called, to distinguish it from\nother processions of the resurrection, _del encuentro_, \"of the\nmeeting\"--was to commence at six o'clock, and I was determined that\nno tardiness on my part should prevent my seeing the whole of this\nsingular relic of bygone ages. The transition from darkness to light\nis so wonderfully sudden, however, in these latitudes, that it was\nbroad day when I reached the cathedral, which I found brilliantly\nilluminated with wax tapers, and hung with crimson damask draperies.\nMass had just begun, and there was a considerable number of persons\npresent, most of them ladies, as is always the case in the churches\nof Havana. How the sight of the men-crowded churches of the United\nStates would astonish these Cubans, who seem to believe that religion\nis made for ignorant women and children, and that the less they\nprofess to have, the more enlightened they appear! As if the really\nenlightened man were not he who most deeply feels the necessity of\nhis Maker's care and love--the consolation of addressing him in\nprayer!\n\nAs soon as the service was ended, I hastened to the _Calle\nEmpedrado_, the street leading directly from the cathedral to _San\nJuan_, and took up my station on the edge of the sidewalk, about\nhalf-way between the two churches. The balconies of the houses and\nthe sides of the great barred, glassless windows were hung with red\nand yellow draperies; and gayly-dressed ladies and children, and\ncrowds of colored people, with the inevitable volunteers, thronged\nthe streets. While thus waiting, I was struck by the appearance of\nthe dresses of the greater part of the colored creole women; nearly\nall wore red, white, and blue, the antagonistic colors to red and\nyellow. Their wearers, in all probability, intended by this show of\ntheir political opinions to revenge themselves upon the Spaniards for\nthe loss of their much-loved procession on Good-Friday.\n\nThere was soon a murmur of expectation in the crowd around me, and\npresently there appeared coming toward us from _San Juan_ the image,\nlarge as life, of St. Mary Magdalen, dressed in a skirt of silver\ntinsel, and an open dress of blue satin, trimmed with silver lace.\nA profusion of long auburn ringlets flowed down each side of the\nsmiling face, and a very elaborate gilded glory was affixed to the\nback of the head. The arms were slightly raised, and the hand held\nout. This figure stood on a small platform supported on the shoulders\nof four of the Brethren of Solitude, such tall men that the saint,\nas she advanced rapidly, her curls streaming out behind her, seemed\nto be running over the heads of the spectators. As she passed, all\nthe men took off their hats respectfully. The bearers halted just\nin front of me, the Magdalen being supposed to look toward the\nsepulchre; after a few minutes' pause, she suddenly turned and ran\nback to the church of _San Juan_. In order, probably, to give a more\nnatural appearance to the image, the men who carried it, and who\nevidently took extreme delight and pride in the duty, waddled as they\nran, and so communicated a most ludicrous deportment to the saint.\nEvery one laughed loud as they watched her roll from side to side,\nplunging forward from time to time, and then recovering herself with\na jerk, her hair flopping up and down or streaming out on the air.\n\n_Que bien corre, meneandose_--\"How well she runs, shaking\nherself!\"--was the admiring exclamation of several persons near\nme, and they laughed; yes, men, women, and children, black and\nwhite, roared with laughter, and yet, I verily believe, not one\namong them all laughed in derision, or felt the slightest sentiment\nof disrespect. \"Perfect love casteth out fear,\" says the apostle;\nand it never entered into their heads that the good saint could be\ndispleased because, like simple children, they laughed at so artless\na representation of her. The grotesque movements excited their\nhilarity, and they were hilarious on the impulse of the moment, and\nwithout _arri\u00e8re pens\u00e9e_. The Latin race is sometimes remarkable for\na child-like simplicity in its actions which too often is mistaken by\ncolder temperaments for a lack of veneration and propriety.\n\nIn a little while the saint came running down the street again,\nsaluted respectfully again by the merry crowd. A halt of five\nminutes, while she looked earnestly in the direction of the\nsepulchre, and then she turned and rushed back, more violently\nagitated than before, and amidst reiterated shouts of laughter, to\n_San Juan de Dios_, to tell the Blessed Virgin the good tidings that\nher Son was alive again.\n\nAnd now the loud strains of martial music reached our ears, and we\nsaw emerging from the square in front of the cathedral, and slowly\nadvancing toward us, a high, handsome structure carried on the\nshoulders of a member of the black _Hermandad_. In the centre of it\nstood the image of the risen Saviour, crowned with a radiant glory;\nhis right hand extended as if to welcome, his left grasping a white\nand gold banner, which displayed, when the breeze unfurled its folds,\na blood-red cross. A little angel with outspread wings seemed to\nhover in front of the gorgeous fabric, as if to herald the coming\nLord. A regiment of colored soldiers, wearing white drill uniforms\nwith red facings, escorted this triumphal car, the band playing its\ngayest airs.\n\nAt the same moment the Holy Virgin, attired in gold-colored silk\ndamask, with a magnificent halo around her head, appeared at the\nopposite end of the street coming to meet him. She was followed at\na short distance by St. Mary Magdalen, now more subdued in manner.\nThe Virgin's arms were raised as if about to clasp them around her\nbeloved Son, and her face wore an expression of ecstatic joy.\n\nThe two processions met where I stood, and after a short pause,\nSt. Mary Magdalen, who was the nearest to the church of _San Juan\nde Dios_, turned round and led the way thither, the Virgin turning\nalso, and the two processions now forming but one. Slowly, but to\nthe liveliest music, in which mingled the strains of Riesgo's hymn,\nthe whole mass of us--for we spectators fell into the ranks--moved\nonward, every one looking glad and gay, and so we at last reached the\nold church, which was far too small to contain one half of us, and\nthe images entered one after the other with all the assistants who\ncould force their way in. We weaker vessels, left outside, seeing it\nhopeless to try to get in, soon dispersed. I have since learnt that\nno kind of religious ceremony took place; the images were simply set\ndown, and after a while the church was cleared of the people and\nclosed for an hour or two.\n\nThere are processions of the resurrection from a great number of\nchurches perambulating the city every Easter-Sunday; but this one \"of\nthe Meeting,\" is by far the most curious and interesting. That of the\nchurch of the _Espiritu Santo_ is considered one of the prettiest,\nbecause of the children in fancy dresses that take part in it.\nThis year, I was told, a great majority of them wore volunteer or\n_cantinera_ (canteen-women, or sutler) costumes, to the great disgust\nof Cuban mothers.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThere was, of course, much festivity going on in the city and suburbs\nall that day. There were family meetings and the pleasant _retreta_\nin the evening for some; the theatre and public balls for others;\nand, I am sorry to say, there was cock-fighting for that brutal\nminority which in all countries seems to seek its greatest enjoyment\nin the contemplation of bloody strife.\n\nYet, in sad truth, there had been strife enough in the streets of\nHavana during the past week to have contented the most sanguinary\ntemper, and sorrow enough to have softened the hardest. Palm-Sunday\nhad witnessed the farewell to all that was dear to them of two\nhundred and fifty unfortunate men; had witnessed, also, the wretched\nend of the two youths about to embark with the other prisoners, and\nthe noble death of the courageous commissary of police, shot down\nwhile he sought to protect them from the vengeance of the volunteers,\nwhom their mad bravadoes, as they were marched down to the ship, had\ninfuriated. In the course of the week a colored man had been killed\nin the streets for seditious cries, and several others stabbed at\nnight by unknown hands. And as if to keep up the constant anxiety and\nfear that overcast Havana like a lurid cloud, the Cubans by every\npossible covert insult, and only just avoiding the most terrible\nconsequences, had shown their hatred of their Spanish rulers.\n\nOne trifling incident became a subject of interest and excitement\nthat would have been absurd under any other circumstances than the\npresent. On Good-Friday a _gorrion_ (sparrow) was found dead in the\n_Plaza de Armas_ by a volunteer. Some say, though others contradict\nthe report, that the poor little bird had its eyes torn out, its\nheart transfixed with pins, and a paper attached to one of its feet\ncontaining the words, _Asi mueran todos los gorriones_--\"May all\nsparrows die thus!\" Now, it must be understood that _gorrion_ is\nanother of the appellations bestowed on the Spaniards by the Cubans.\nA few sparrows having been brought from Europe to the island by some\nship-captain, they prospered and multiplied in such a degree that\nthey soon outnumbered and domineered over the _Bijirita_, a native\nbird somewhat smaller, but much resembling the sparrow in form,\ncolor, and habits. An analogy being imagined between the Spaniards\nand the new-comer--the name of _gorrion_ was given to all the\nnatives of the peninsula of Spain, while the Cubans adopted that of\n_Bijirita_.\n\nThe little dead _gorrion_ found on Good-Friday was placed with much\nceremony in a glass coffin, and laid in state in a room of one of the\nbarracks, on a lofty catafalque, with velvet pall and lighted tapers\nand a guard of honor. Crowns of fresh flowers, and of red and yellow\n\"everlastings,\" were suspended around and above the remains of the\ntypical bird, and two exquisite nosegays, each more than three feet\nhigh, and as much in circumference, the gifts of the captain-general\nand of the _generala_ his wife, stood one at the head, the other at\nthe foot of the mimic tomb. All the volunteers paid their respects\nwith much ceremony to the little representative of their race, and so\nmany people crowded to visit it on Holy-Saturday that it was at last\ndetermined to utilize public curiosity.\n\nOn Easter-Sunday every person who wished to see the _gorrion_ was\nobliged to pay ten cents, which were to go to the fund destined\nto aid the volunteers disabled in the present terrible struggle.\nOn Easter morning the sum received amounted to three hundred and\nfifty-one dollars!\n\nA great number of songs, sonnets, and odes were composed in honor\nof the poor little bird, and the manuscripts were tied by colored\nribbons to the crowns suspended above it. They have since been\ncollected and printed, and sold for the benefit of the same fund.\nMany of them were published in the _Diario de la Marina_, the\nofficial daily paper of Havana. The following are specimens of the\neffusions:\n\n\n    AL GORRION.\n\n    Gloria al Gorrion que aqu\u00ec veis\n      Inanimado y marchito,\n    Ya jamas de su piquito\n      El dulce canto oireis.\n    Pero en cambio no olvideis\n      Los que lo mireis con sa\u00f1a,\n    Que si ya la muerte empa\u00f1a\n      Su mirada inteligente,\n    De su raza prepotente\n      Hay millones in Espa\u00f1a!\n\n                _La Compa\u00f1ia de Cazadores del 7^o Batallon._\n\n\n    TO THE SPARROW.\n\n    Glory to the Sparrow that you see here\n      Lifeless and blighted,\n    Never more from his little bill\n      Will you hear a sweet song.\n    But in exchange, do not forget,\n      You who look at him with ill-will,\n    That if indeed death has dimmed\n      His intelligent glance,\n    Of his most powerful race\n      There are millions in Spain!\n\n            _The Company of Cazadores of the 7th Battalion._\n\n    Aqui reposa un Gorrion\n      Que esta tarde se le entierra\n    Y otros cien en pi\u00e9 de guerra\n      La sirven de guarnicion,\n    Bijiritas, en tropel\n      Furiosas aleteais\n    \u00bfPor ventura no observais\n      Que estais ya mas muertas que el?\n    Descansa en paz, oh gorrion,\n      Y admite esta ofrenda fria\n    De la cuarta compa\u00f1ia\n      De este quinto batallon!\n\n\n    TRANSLATION.\n\n    Here rests a Sparrow,\n      To be buried this afternoon,\n    And a hundred more in warlike trim\n      Serve him as a guard.\n\n    You crowds of Bijiritas\n      Who beat your wings with fury,\n    Do you not by chance remark\n      That you are already more dead than he is?\n\n    Rest in peace, O sparrow!\n      And accept this cold offering\n    From the fourth company\n      Of the fifth battalion.\n\nThe gorrion was buried, and Havana left once more without other\nthought than that which had occupied Spaniards and Cubans for the\nseveral months previous. It is said that in former days ships which\napproached the tropic of Cancer, knew when they were nearing the\nshores of Cuba by the sweet odor of flowers and honey borne to them\non the breeze; now, alas! the beautiful island is recognized from\nafar rather by the light of her burning plantations--by the smell of\ngunpowder and of blood! To all who have lived in Havana and who have\nfriends among both parties; to all who know and appreciate the proud\nsense of honor and unshrinking courage of the one, and the quick\nintelligence and high aspirations of the other, the present struggle\nmust and does give the deepest pain.\n\nBut while they sympathize sincerely with those who sorrow, they\nbelieve that \"behind a frowning providence God hides a smiling face,\"\nand that, the strife ended, Cuba will rise again from her ashes,\npurified and regenerated; for it is written that \"they who sow in\ntears shall reap in joy\"!\n\n\n\n\nTHORNS.\n\nHOMAGE TO THE CROSS, GOOD-FRIDAY, 1870.\n\n\n    Here his head rested,\n      Crimsoned with blood;\n    Jesus' hard slumber-place,\n      Pillow of wood!\n\n    Here his eye clouded;\n      Dwell there, my gaze,\n    Where the dear light of love\n      Dyingly plays!\n\n    Here the nails rankled;\n      There the lance tore,\n    While strove the water-tide\n      Vainly with gore!\n\n    Here the heart agonized,\n      Hid from the glance;\n    Pierced with ingratitude\n      Worse than the lance!\n\n    Here his soul parted--\n      Break not, my heart!\n    Oh! what a deadly hurt,\n      Sinning, thou art.\n\n    Here the feet turn to thee;\n      Press them, my lips!\n    While a love-agony\n      Through my heart creeps!\n\n                                      RICHARD STORRS WILLIS.\n\n\n\n\nMARY STUART.\n\n\nIt is at once a remarkable fact and a striking exemplification of the\nvitality of poetic justice in history that, from among modern Scotch\nPuritans, from the spiritual descendants of John Knox, should have\ncome three of the noblest and most effective modern vindications of\nMary Stuart.\n\nWe refer to the work by Mr. Hosack noticed in our last number, to\nthat which we make the subject of the present article,[37] and to\nthe poem of Bothwell,[38] one of the finest in the entire range of\nEnglish literature. Professor Aytoun's poem is accompanied by a\nbody of historical notes, which are in themselves a model of legal\nargument and dialectic power, covering the entire period of the\nhistory of Mary Stuart in Scotland. And yet these three writers are\nvery far from being looked upon by their countrymen as the holders\nof singular opinions. It may be news to many persons, but it is,\nnevertheless, the fact that they merely reflect the prevailing\nfeeling in Scotland concerning its unfortunate queen of three\ncenturies agone, murdered in an English prison. The sentiment of\nthe great body of the Scotch people, gentle and simple, Puritan and\nCatholic, is to this day decidedly in her favor, and the superficial\nreader who, trusting to a superficial Froude, sneers at Mary Stuart,\nis safer from reproof in New York than in Edinburgh.\n\nMr. Caird's work, of which the second edition was published last\nyear, appears to be made up of the material of a series of lectures\ndelivered by him in some of the Scotch cities, and, like Mr. Hosack's\nwork, is marked with evidences of great research, ability, and a\nthorough knowledge of the country, the people, and the times under\ndiscussion.\n\nLike Mr. Hosack, Mr. Caird convicts the late English historian,\nFroude, of numerous disgraceful blunders, and several--well we can\nfind no term properly to describe the performance but--palpable\nfalsehoods. Mr. Caird does not undertake to write a full and\nconnected history of Mary Stuart or of her reign in Scotland. He\nseeks mainly to unravel the mystery of the intrigues, plots, and\nconspirations by which that unfortunate queen was surrounded and\npursued from the moment she set foot in her kingdom. And he does\nit successfully. In all history, there is no record of a band of\ngreater villains than the nobles who surrounded Mary's throne, or of\nmore devilish abettors than their English allies. The time is not\nfar off when, in spite of falsified history, Mary Stuart must be\nheld innocent of the crimes of which her very accusers themselves\nwere alone guilty. Mr. Caird enters gracefully on his subject. Three\ncenturies ago, a French fleet sailed up the Frith of Clyde, and cast\nanchor at Dumbarton. It took on board a little girl, six years of\nage--a merry creature who had not a care in the world--hoisted the\nflag of Scotland, and bore her away to the coast of France. There\npassed with her in the same ship a stripling of seventeen, her\nillegitimate brother, (afterward known as the Earl of Murray,) who,\nthough incapable of inheritance, was brought up in the most intimate\nfamily intercourse with her; young enough to engage the sisterly\naffection of her warm heart, old enough to be already her trusted\ncounsellor and guide. His life was to be a continued betrayal of her\nconfidence. But whatever wild thoughts may have passed through his\nbusy brain, neither of them could have dreamed in those early days\nof the frightful tragedies in which they were to become the chief\nactors. In the yet distant future he was to usurp her place and\npower, she to become his miserable prisoner; and it was all to end\nat last in his being shot down, without law, at the summit of his\ngreatness, and in her being doomed to die, under the forms of law,\non an English scaffold. Yet, though their hearts were light on this\nsummer voyage, it was not without its dangers.\n\nTwelve years later, a fleet sailed from sunny France, again bearing\nthe same girl, now budding toward womanhood. It steered for the\nFrith of Forth. There is no laughter now. Her first great sorrow\nhas come upon her early. She is deeply clothed in mourning--a widow\nat eighteen. Again an English fleet watched to intercept her. Again\nshe escaped narrowly, losing one of her vessels. She has been queen\nof France. One blow has deprived her of a husband and a crown. She\nclaims to be queen of England. That claim rests on strong grounds of\nlaw. It is to be the dream of her life, and she is never to realize\nit. She is the acknowledged queen of Scotland; but she lands on her\nnative shore with sad forebodings and a heavy heart. No one has\never charged her with having misconducted herself before that time;\nyet such was the distracted state of her country, such the weakness\nof her authority, that she said before she set out on this voyage,\n\"Perhaps it were better for me to die than to live.\"\n\nLess than six busy years of troubled government and we see her\nagain--on the Frith of Solway. She has been despoiled of her Scottish\ncrown. She is flying for her life in a fishing-boat. \"For ninety\nmiles,\" she writes, \"I rode across the country without lighting or\ndrawing bridle; slept on the bare floor; no food but oatmeal; without\nthe company of a female; not daring to travel except by stealth at\nnight.\" And now the die is cast, and, in spite of many warnings, she\nthis time throws herself on the generosity of England.\n\nThen follow nineteen years of bitter captivity:\n\n    \"Now blooms the lily by the bank,\n      The primrose on the brae;\n    The hawthorn's budding in the glen,\n      And milk-white is the slae;\n    The meanest hind in fair Scotland\n      May rove their sweets amang;\n    But I, the Queen o' a' Scotland,\n      Maun lie in prison strang.\"\n\nAt last we see a long hall in the old castle of Fotheringay; a\nplatform laid with black--the actors and spectators all clothed in\nblack. There comes in, unsupported, to die, a lady of noble presence.\nShe has been wickedly denied the aid of her spiritual comforter,\nand, alone with God, has administered to herself the last sacrament\nof her religion, without the blessing or counsel of a minister. Even\nher latest moments are disturbed by theological dispute. But she is\ncalm, and resigned to God's will. She lays her head on the block.\nThe executioner strikes and makes a ghastly wound. She does not even\nstir. He strikes again, but his work is incomplete; and with a third\nblow the life and sorrows of Mary Stuart are brought to an end.\n\nIt is one of the great problems of history, says Mr. Caird, whether\nthese terrible calamities were brought upon her by her own wickedness\nor by the contrivance of others.\n\nWe have reason to believe that the child is now living who, as man\nor woman, will hear and see the last mention in history of _Good\nQueen Bess_.\n\nOf all the humbugs of history, the reputation manufactured for\nElizabeth, the daughter of Henry VIII. and Anne Boleyn, is at once\nthe most insolent and the most disgusting. We do not care to give a\npersonal opinion of this woman, and will accept, for the present,\nher character as mildly described by the historian Robertson, which\nis to the effect that she was an habitual and mean liar, a peevish,\nbad-tempered, vacillating, untrustworthy sovereign, whose parsimony,\nand variableness, and small economy would have ruined herself and\nher kingdom but for the fact that she had a great statesman by her,\nand that good luck continually picked her out of the imbroglios into\nwhich she had fallen. She was a vain, bad-tempered, irresolute,\ndeceitful old woman. And this is as lenient a view of Elizabeth as\ncould be taken of her with the historic lights possessed by Robertson.\n\nBut, compared with what we now know her to have been from the results\nof modern discoveries among official and state paper records,\nRobertson has here painted an angel of loveliness.\n\nAnd just in proportion as Elizabeth has fallen on the historic\npage, Mary Stuart is elevated by every fresh discovery of original\ndocumentary evidence. She was, indeed, as Mr. Caird writes, a\nwinning, gentle-hearted woman, and the correspondence of her own\ntime, before men's hearts were hardened against her by passion, bears\nmuch testimony to her virtues.\n\nThrockmorton, the English ambassador in France, even during her war\nwith England, wrote of \"her great wisdom for her years, her modesty,\nher judgment in the wise handling of herself and her matters.\" And\nanother of the English ambassadors, who became one of her deadliest\nenemies, says of her only a few months before her grievous\ncalamities were brought upon her, \"There is one cheer and one\ncountenance always on the queen.\" Even after she was imprisoned in\nLochleven, Throckmorton wrote of her to Elizabeth, \"The lords speak\nof the queen with respect and reverence.\" Lord Scrope said, \"She has\nan eloquent tongue and a discreet head, stout courage, and a liberal\nheart.\" And Sir Francis Knollys reported of her, \"She desireth much\nto hear of hardiness and valiancy, commending by name all approved\nhardy men of her country, although her enemies, and she concealeth no\ncowardness, even in her friends.\" Lethington wrote of her soon after\nher return to Scotland, \"She doth declare a wisdom far exceeding her\nage.\"\n\nAfter she was uncrowned, Murray and his council recorded of her, that\n\"God had endowed her with many good and excellent gifts and virtues;\"\nand he spoke of her in the same way in private.\n\nThe Earl of Shrewsbury, after having had the custody of the Queen\nof Scots during fifteen years of her imprisonment in England, was\nconsulted by Elizabeth on the subject of a treaty for her liberation.\nShe desired especially to know from him for her guidance, whether\nMary's promises could be relied on if she were free. Shrewsbury's\nanswer was, \"I believe that if the Queen of Scots promises any thing,\nshe will not break her word.\"\n\nHer frequent and earnest pleadings with foreign powers for justice\nand mercy to her subjects cannot be read without interest and\nadmiration. Her letters have been gathered from every corner of the\nearth, and every page of them marks the elegance and simplicity\nof her thoughts. If any man who has a prejudice against her will\nsit down and read that correspondence, in which she treats of\nall the incidents of life, he will rise from the perusal with a\ndifferent notion, not of her mind only, but her heart. These are\nthe records which we can read now, exactly as they dropped from her\npen, untainted by the bitterness of party, as so little else which\nconcerns her was permitted to be. And we can see her there as she\ndisclosed herself to her most confidential friends, whether in the\nhighest business of state or in the trivial affairs of daily life.\n\nMr. Caird's plan does not embrace a connected narrative of Mary's\nreign, and we regret that he has found it necessary to omit a\nnarrative of the treacherous manner in which the destruction of the\nEarl of Huntly was brought about. On Mary's arrival in Scotland,\nevery one was surprised that Mary should select for her chief state\ncouncillor her half-brother, the Lord James, instead of the Earl of\nHuntly. No one knew that Mary had been craftily persuaded by James\nthat Huntly was not loyal. The plan of her brother was as wicked as\nit was deep. It was at once to deprive Mary of a loyal adviser and a\npowerful friend, and to raise his own fortunes on Huntly's ruin. It\nis curious to see how all this affair is ingeniously misrepresented\nby Mr. Froude in his so-called history. Yielding to James's\nsolicitations, begun years before, Mary, after creating him Earl of\nMar, created him Earl of Murray. But this latter title he did not\nwish to assert until he could obtain the lands appertaining to the\ntitle, which he had procured while living in ostensible friendship\nwith the man he had doomed to ruin. The lands were in Huntly's\npossession, and Murray made up his mind to have them. \"But Huntly,\"\nsays Mr. Froude, \"had refused to part with them.\" Who was Huntly? He\nwas earl chancellor of the kingdom, a man aged fifty-two, a powerful\nCatholic nobleman, who could bring twenty thousand spears into\nthe field. He had done good service for Mary's mother against the\nEnglish. English gold had not stained his palm. He was a man marked\nfor saying that he liked not the \"manner of Henry VIII.'s wooing.\"\nHe had wanted Mary to land at Aberdeen, was at the head of the loyal\nparty on Mary's arrival, and had sought to warn her of her brother's\ncraft and ambition. Mr. Froude thus describes him, (vol. vii. p. 454:)\n\n    \"Of all the reactionary noblemen in Scotland the most powerful\n    and dangerous[39] was notoriously the Earl of Huntly. It was\n    Huntly who had proposed the landing at Aberdeen. In his own\n    house the chief of the house of Gordon had never so much as\n    affected to comply with the change of religion,\" etc.\n\nWhat depravity! Would not change his religion, nor even have the\ndecency _to affect to comply_! Positively an atrocious character!\nNevertheless, so perfect is the command of a philosophical historian\nover his feelings that these dreadful facts are recorded without\ncomment. It is evident that the lands of such a wretch as Huntly\nought to be given to one so \"God-fearing\" as Murray. \"A number of\ncauses combined at this moment to draw attention to Huntly.\" But,\nall counted, the number is just two--one of them utterly frivolous,\nand the other, \"he had refused to give up the lands.\" Mr. Froude\nis now candid, and tells us that Murray \"resolved to anticipate\nattack, (none was dreamed of,) to carry the queen with him to visit\nthe recusant lord in his own stronghold, and either to drive him\ninto a premature rebellion or force him to submit to the existing\ngovernment.\"\n\n\"Murray's reasons for such a step,\" continues Mr. Froude, \"are\nintelligible.\" Perfectly. \"It is less easy,\" he continues, \"to\nunderstand why Mary Stuart consented to it.\" And then Mr. Froude\nproceeds to wonder over it with John Knox's guesses, and his own\n\"if,\" \"perhaps,\" and \"may be.\" Less easy indeed! It is utterly\nimpossible, unless one consents to look at Mary Stuart as she\nwas--a young woman easily influenced through her affections, and\nwith a sincere sisterly attachment for the man in whom she failed\nto recognize her worst enemy. Difficult indeed to understand the\nsuicidal measure of ruining the most powerful Catholic nobleman\nin Scotland, and strengthening the hands of the most powerful\nProtestant leader. \"Huntly's family,\" says Mr. Froude, \"affirmed that\nthe trouble which happened to the Gordons was for the sincere and\nloyal affection which they had to the queen's preservation,\" (vii.\n456.) And they were right. We leave Mr. Froude to speculate on the\nmalicious motive Mary Stuart must have had for thus lopping off her\nright hand. Murray now manages to draw the queen and her attendants\nover moor and mountain two hundred and fifty miles to Tarnway, within\nthe lands of the earldom of Murray. She was entirely guided by him,\nand he used her authority to compass his personal ends and weaken her\nthrone.\n\nAlexander Gordon at first refused to open the gates of Inverness\nCastle to the queen, but complied the next day, on the order of\nHuntly. Murray had Gordon immediately hung, and his head set on the\ncastle wall. Mr. Froude describes this brutal murder as \"strangling\na wolf-cub in the heart of the den,\" (vol. vii. p. 457,) all that\nMurray does being of course lovely. Mary was now surrounded by Murray\nand his friends, who poisoned her mind against the Huntlys with\nstories that the earl meant to force her into a marriage with his\nson, and had other designs against her person and royal authority;\nand Mary believed them. \"Whereupon,\" writes Randolph to Cecil--for\nMurray had brought his English friend, Elizabeth's servant, along\nwith him--\"whereupon there was good pastime.\" Huntly yielded all that\nwas demanded of him. His castles and houses were seized, plundered,\nstripped, and he was a ruined man. Lady Huntly spoke sad truth when,\nleading Murray's messenger into the chapel of the house, she said to\nhim before the altar, \"Good friend, you see here the envy that is\nborne unto my husband; would he have forsaken God and his religion,\nas those that are now about the queen, my husband would never have\nbeen put as he now is,\" (vol. vii. p. 458.) Mr. Froude reports this\nincident, and very properly spoils its effect by the statement that\nLady Huntly was \"reported by the Protestants to be a witch.\" Huntly\nwas driven to take up arms. \"Swift as lightning,\" says Mr. Froude,\nwith yellow-cover tinge of phrase, \"Murray was on his track.\" And now\n\"swift as lightning\"--sure sign of mischief meant--Mr. Froude moves\non with his narrative, omitting essential facts, but not omitting\na characteristic piece of handiwork. News came from the south that\nBothwell had escaped out of Edinburgh Castle; \"not,\" glides in our\nphilosophic historian--\"not, it was supposed, without the queen's\nknowledge,\" (vol. vii. p. 459.) After a wonderful victory of his two\nthousand men over Huntly's five hundred--a mere slaughter--Murray\nbrought the queen certain letters of the Earl of Sutherland, found,\nhe said, in the pockets of the dead Earl of Huntly, and showing\ntreasonable correspondence. They were forgeries; but they answered\nhis purpose. \"Lord John, (Huntly's son,) after a full confession, was\nbeheaded in the market-place at Aberdeen,\" (vol. vii. p. 459.) There\nwas no confession but that which _Murray told the queen_ he made,\nand Mr. Froude forgets to tell us that Murray caused young Gordon's\nscaffold to be erected in front of the queen's lodging, and had her\nplaced in a chair of state at an open window, deluding her with some\nspecious reason as to the necessity of her presence.\n\nWhen the noble young man was brought out to die, Mary burst into a\nflood of tears; and when the headsman did his work, she swooned and\nwas borne off insensible. Here is Mr. Froude's short version of these\nfacts: \"Her brother read her a cruel lesson by compelling her to be\npresent at the execution.\" Mr. Froude also forgets to tell us that\nMurray had six gentlemen of the house of Gordon hung at Aberdeen\non the same day. But a few pages further on, he has the insolent\ncoolness to tell us of a prize that Mary \"trusted to have purchased\nwith Huntly's blood\"! (vol. vii. p. 463.) After all, you thus\nperceive that it was not Murray, but Mary, who wrought all this ruin.\n\n\nTHE RICCIO MURDER.\n\nMr. Caird presents with great force the result of modern discoveries\nin the State Paper Office touching the details of the Riccio\nconspiracy, and shows conclusively that Murray was its real head,\nand also the chief organ of communication between the conspirators\nand the English government. The previous knowledge of the intent to\nmurder Riccio, and the probable danger to Mary's life, is brought\nhome to Elizabeth. She could not have been accounted guiltless,\neven if she had remained passive, merely concealing from her royal\nsister the bloody tragedy which was being prepared for her with\nthe knowledge of her agent in Scotland. This agent (Randolph)\nshe supported vehemently, protected the assassins, negotiated and\ntrafficked until she got them restored, supplied Murray with large\nsums of money immediately before and immediately after Riccio's\ndeath, and took the first opportunity to gratify her vindictiveness\nagainst Darnley by open insult.\n\nIn the conspiracy for the murder of Riccio, no one was more deeply\nimplicated than Darnley. He had allowed himself to be flattered and\ntempted by Murray, Maitland, and the rest with the prospect of a\nroyal crown. But while these crafty men used him in this way for\ntheir own ends, they had not the slightest idea of allowing him to\nbe more than a puppet in their hands. The knowledge of Darnley's\ncomplicity in the murder had wrung Mary's heart; but after the first\nburst of grief, she saw clearly that he was the dupe and tool of\nothers. Her respect for him could not be otherwise than shaken; but\nher affection preserved him from the punishment which he richly\nmerited. And for his sake she spared his father (Lenox) also, whom\nshe justly blamed most; but she never permitted _him_ to enter her\npresence again. Considering that she had released him from the\nconsequences of treason only twelve months before, and that he had\nnow repeated the offence under such aggravated circumstances, and\nhad beguiled his son into the same evil course, bringing misery upon\nher household, her forbearance can be attributed only to surviving\ntenderness for her husband.\n\nMr. Caird places in a very clear light the development of the\ncontempt and hatred of the conspirators for Darnley, which gradually\nhardened and intensified into the conspiracy to murder him; and as we\nwatch its growth, it is sad to witness the suffering, sacrifices, and\nself-denial of a noble-hearted woman all wasted in vain, and upon\na most unworthy object. And yet more sad is it when we see, in such\nfalsifiers of history as Mr. Froude, the very clearest and highest\nproofs of womanly goodness and wifely devotion wrenched and perverted\ninto evidence of crime and murder.\n\nIn connection with this subject, Mr. Caird draws attention to the\nrecord of the Scotch Privy Council--an account the more valuable\nbecause the very men composing the council attempted at a later\nperiod to cast discredit on the queen. Here is their testimony: \"So\nfar as things could come to their knowledge, the king (Darnley)\nhad no ground of complaints; but, on the contrary, that he had\nreason to look upon himself as one of the most fortunate princes\nin Christendom, could he but know his own happiness.\" And they\nadded, \"That although they who did perpetrate the murder of her\nfaithful servant had entered her chamber with his knowledge, having\nfollowed him close at the back, and had named him the chief of their\nenterprise, yet would she never accuse him thereof, but did always\nexcuse him, and willed to appear as if she believed it not; and so\nfar was she from ministering to him occasion of discontent, that, on\nthe contrary, he had all the reason in the world to thank God for\ngiving him so wise and virtuous a person as she had showed herself in\nall her actions.\"\n\nThere are few points in the history of this period on which writers\nare so thoroughly agreed as the utter worthlessness and incapacity\nof Darnley, and there are also few cases which so completely as that\nof Darnley exemplify the too common weakness of the superior woman\nfor the inferior man who possesses her affection. Trafficking on her\naffection, and seeking to wring from her a consent to his demands,\nhe came very tardily to what was by all supposed to be her dying-bed\nat Jedburg. His bearing shocked all beholders. It was at this time\nMary made her will, the inventory attached to which is a modern\ndiscovery. She left Darnley twenty-five jewels of great value, and\nopposite one cherished ring wrote with her own hand, \"It is the ring\nwith which I was betrothed. I leave it to the king who gave it to\nme.\" And yet Mr. James Anthony Froude informs us that Mary was then\nplanning this husband's murder!\n\nThe most admirable chapters of Mr. Caird's work are those which treat\nof\n\n\nTHE MURDER OF DARNLEY.\n\nThe author shows conclusively, from an array of original testimony\nwhich cannot be disputed, the precise nature, extent, and composition\nof the conspiracy to effect this assassination, and presents the\nwhole question in an entirely new light.\n\nAs revealed by Mr. Caird, the conspiracy, by the time the moment was\nreached for execution, had trebled itself. That is to say, there were\nin the field on the eventful night of the murder, three separate\nand independent bands of assassins, one of which most certainly\nacted independently of the other two. Bothwell and his party, thrust\nforward to do the work by associates quite as guilty as he, but\npossessed of more brains, were, materially, innocent of Darnley's\nkilling, although fully guilty in intent. They blew up the house at\nKirk o' Field, supposing that Darnley went with it. There can now\nbe but little doubt that when the explosion took place Darnley was\nalready a dead man, smothered or _burked_ by a special band.\n\nFor some hours after the explosion, no trace of Darnley's body\ncould be found; but as morning dawned, it was discovered in a garden\neighty yards from the house. The attendant who slept in the room\nwith him was lying dead at a short distance further away. Each had\non a night-shirt. There was not a fracture, contusion, or livid\nmark, nor any trace of fire on their bodies, and the king's clothes\nwere lying folded beside him. A fur pelisse, open as if dropped, was\nlying near him. Now, if we are to suppose that Darnley was blown up\nin the air, we must believe it possible that a human body could be\nthrown a distance of eighty yards without any marks of violence; that\nanother body was thrown the same distance with the same results;\nand--stranger than all--that Darnley's fur pelisse and slippers were\nalso blown uninjured to his side by the explosion, while five other\ninmates of the house were buried in the ruins.\n\n\nELIZABETH'S GUILTY KNOWLEDGE.\n\nOne fact of equal importance and interest is well established by\nmodern investigation. It is the guilty knowledge, and actual or\nimplied association of Queen Elizabeth of England in all the secret\nplots set on foot by the nobility of Scotland against Mary and her\ninterests.\n\nShe was fully advised of the murder of Riccio three weeks before it\ntook place, and Mr. Caird establishes, we think, conclusively, that\nshe was quite as well advised concerning the Darnley murder.\n\nFourteen years after the occurrence, one of the first acts of King\nJames, on his freedom from tutelage, was to commit the Earl of Morton\nto the Castle of Edinburgh, charged with the murder of Darnley.\n\nMorton was one of the very few surviving conspirators. Bothwell was\ndead in exile; Maitland had poisoned himself, and Murray had been\nshot down in the streets of Linlithgow.\n\nAs soon as Queen Elizabeth heard of Morton's arrest, she made the\nmost frantic efforts to prevent his trial. She endeavored to stir up\ninsurrection in Scotland; she threatened war; she moved an army to\nthe frontier; she sent back to Scotland as her ambassador, Randolph,\nso thoroughly familiar with all its murderous plots. Leicester, her\nlover, wrote to Randolph with a suggestion scantily veiled that the\nyoung king might follow his father--\"He will not long tarry in that\nsoil. Let the fate of his predecessor be his warning.\" And close on\nthe heels of that, came official notice that Elizabeth would assist\nand maintain the Scots in protection of Morton. But James owed a debt\nto the memory of his murdered father, to the name of his captive\nmother, who was then pining in her English prison, and, in spite of\nElizabeth's threats and violence, Morton was brought to trial, found\nguilty, and sentenced to death. Mr. Caird cites and refers to a mass\nof dispatches connected with Elizabeth's movements in this Morton\nmatter which we have never seen elsewhere alluded to, and adds Queen\nElizabeth's violence before Morton's trial and execution was not more\nremarkable than her sudden attitude of acquiescence as soon as his\nmouth was shut. \"Did he hold some terrible secret whose disclosure\nshe feared?\"\n\nThe murder of Darnley occurred on the 10th of February, 1567. A full\nfortnight before, Mary's ambassador in Paris wrote to her that he had\nreceived a hint from the Spanish ambassador that the queen should\ntake heed to herself, for there was a plot on foot to her injury. The\nletter reached Mary twelve hours too late to be of any service as a\nwarning. But even if she had received it, to whom could she have\nturned for aid or information? All the lords were in the plot, and\nshe was surrounded by conspirators. The question is asked, Why did\nshe not bring to justice the murderers of Darnley? Her situation was\nsuch that it was simply impossible for her to get at the knowledge\nof any fact dangerous to the conspirators. Denunciatory placards\nwere issued in Edinburgh. But if shown, she would there find herself\ncharged with being an accomplice with Bothwell and others in the\nmurder. Knowing this to be an outrageous slander on herself, she\nwould naturally conclude that it was equally so on them. And if\nherself innocent, Bothwell was the very last of her lords whom she\ncould suspect of having cause of quarrel with the king. He was almost\nthe only man who had supported Darnley, and it is certain he was not\nof those to whom Darnley had demonstrated antipathy. The wild scheme\nof ambition which Bothwell afterward pursued had probably not clearly\ndeveloped itself even in his own mind till after Darnley's death.\nDreams he may have had. But the scheme which he finally executed\nseems to have been the growth of opportunity.\n\nAfter the murder, Mary shut herself up in a dark chamber, and kept\nit until her physicians compelled her to go to Seaton. A month after\nthe murder, when Killigrew, the English ambassador, saw her, she\nwas still in a dark chamber, and seemed in profound grief. Two such\ntragedies as had befallen her within a twelve-month were more than\nenough to shatter the nerves of any woman.\n\nAnd now came a fresh warning from Paris that some new plot was in\nprogress. The Spanish ambassador, by whom the warning of the Darnley\nmurder had been given, said,\n\n    \"Apprise her majesty that I am informed, by the same means as\n    I was before, that there is still some notable enterprise in\n    hand against her, whereof I wish her to beware in time.\"\n\nNo explanation was given, and the poor queen was of course\nbewildered. She had heart and nerve enough for her own risk; but she\nat once took precautions for the safety of her child, the heir to\nthe crown. She at once placed him in charge of the Earl of Mar, and\nlodged him in the strong castle of Stirling. And this fact is more\nthan answer to the assertion that Mary was at this time under the\ninfluence of Bothwell. If any such influence had existed, he would\nnot have permitted the disposition that was made of the child. His\nfirst effort on coming to power was to get the young prince into his\nhands. The Earl of Mar justified Mary's confidence, and withstood the\nefforts not only of Bothwell, but of Murray, to get possession of the\nchild.\n\nThen came the distribution of the crown lands among the conspirators\nby the ratification of parliament.\n\nThis matter was at once the main cause of Darnley's murder and the\nbond of union among the murderers. On the evening of the adjournment\nof parliament, its members were entertained at a supper by Bothwell.\nAfter the feast, a bond was produced by Sir James Balfour, by which\nthey bound themselves to sustain Bothwell's acquittal, recommended\nhim as the fittest husband for the queen, and engaged to support\nhim with their whole power, and to hold as enemies any who should\npresume to hinder the marriage. They all signed but one, the Earl\nof Eglinton. It was at this time that Bothwell began to manifest\nhis intentions to Mary, and a letter of hers relates that he tried\n\"if he might by humble suit purchase our good-will, but found our\nanswer nothing correspondent to his desire.\" Mary then went to\nStirling to visit her child. She probably wished, says Mr. Caird,\nby leaving Edinburgh at this juncture, to indicate to Bothwell that\nher rejection of his approaches was decisive; and he acted as if he\nthought so. His next step was that of a _desperate man_.\n\n\nBOTHWELL CARRIES OFF THE QUEEN.\n\nOn her return from Stirling, three days later, he suddenly met her\non the road with a large armed force, seized her, made her escort\nprisoners, and carried her off to his castle at Dunbar. He kept her\nthere for eleven or twelve days. When she resisted his insolence,\nhe produced the bond granted to him by the nobility, and she there\nfound the signatures of every man from whom she could have expected\nhelp. Not one moved a finger in her defence. Huntly and Lethington,\nwho were there with Bothwell, would not fail to remind her of the\ncalamities which she had brought upon herself by opposing the policy\nof her nobles in her former marriage. Day after day she held out,\nbut no help came. Sir James Melville, who had been taken prisoner\nwith her, records that such violence was at last used that she no\nlonger had a choice. Bothwell, in his dying confession, said that\nhe accomplished his purpose \"by the use of sweet waters.\" Morton's\nproclamations charged him with using violence to the queen, \"and\nother more unleisum means.\" It seems not unlikely, therefore, that he\nemployed some sweetened potion. Mary herself says that \"in the end,\nwhen she saw no hope to be ridd of him, never man in Scotland ance\nmaking a mint for her deliverance, she was driven to the conclusion,\nfrom their hand-writes and silence, that he had won them all.\"\nHe partly extorted and partly obtained her consent to marriage.\nBothwell then conveyed the heart-broken queen, surrounded by a great\nforce, to the Castle of Edinburgh. He next carried her before the\njudges, after lining the streets and crowding the courts and passages\nwith his armed retainers. She there submitted to make a declaration\nthat she \"forgave him of all hatred conceived by her for taking and\nimprisoning her;\" and also that she was now at liberty. The necessity\nfor such a declaration implies previous coercion. Mr. Caird explains\nthat, under the then existing law, Bothwell had committed an offence\npunishable with death if he had not obtained this declaration.\nA marriage was formally solemnized, and so little was her will\nconsulted that it was in the Protestant form. Fettered by their bond,\nthe nobles all looked on and lent no aid. One honest man there was,\nthough, the Protestant minister Craig, who boldly told Bothwell that\nhe objected to the marriage because he (Bothwell) had forced the\nqueen. Called upon to proclaim the banns, Craig denounced it from the\npulpit, and afterward publicly testified in the next general assembly\nthat he was alone in opposing the marriage, and that \"the best part\nof the realm did approve it, either by flattery or by their silence.\"\n\nThe SILVER CASKET LETTERS are treated by Mr. Caird as they must be\nby every fair-minded man. He says, \"These letters, in truth, were as\ngross and clumsy fabrications as ever were put forward.\" His thorough\nanalysis of the longest letter--a love-letter of fourteen quarto\npages of print--is the most successful we have seen.\n\nMr. Caird closes his work with two scenes so effectively portrayed\nthat our readers will thank us for transcribing them:\n\n    \"After much earthly glory, and a long reign, the time came\n    at last when the great Queen Elizabeth must die. Wealth,\n    grandeur, power which none might question--all were hers. But\n    a cold hand was on her heart. The shadow of death was creeping\n    over her--slow, very slow, but deepening every hour. There\n    was not one left who loved her, or whom she could love. Her\n    most trusted servants trembled at her passions, and longed\n    for a change. Hume tells us she rejected all consolation. She\n    refused food. She threw herself on the floor. She remained\n    sullen and immovable, feeding her thoughts on her afflictions,\n    and declaring her existence an insufferable burden. Few words\n    she uttered, and they were all expressive of some inward grief\n    which she did not reveal; but sighs and groans were the chief\n    vent of her despondency, which discovered her sorrows without\n    assuaging them.\n\n    \"Oh! the long and unutterable agony of such a time. What is\n    there on earth that could bribe one to bear it willingly? How\n    bitterly she must have realized the words addressed to her by\n    Mary Stuart on the eve of her execution:\n\n    \"'Think me not presumptuous, madam, that now, bidding farewell\n    to this world, and preparing for a better, I remind you that\n    you also must die and account to God for your stewardship as\n    well as those who have been sent before you. Your sister and\n    cousin, prisoner of wrong,'\n\n                                                    MARIE R.\n\n    \"Ten days and nights Queen Elizabeth lay thus upon the carpet;\n    then her voice left her, her senses failed, and so she died.\"\n\nMary Stuart had gone long before, destroyed and done to death by this\nwoman; sent to the scaffold in a land where she had been wrongfully\nkept a prisoner, to whose law she owed no allegiance, and by virtue\nof a law which was passed to compass her death. On her way to\nexecution, she was met by her old servant, Andrew Melville. He threw\nhimself on his knees before her, wringing his hands in uncontrollable\nagony.\n\n\"Woe is me,\" he cried, \"that it should be my hard hap to carry back\nsuch tidings to Scotland!\"\n\n\"Weep not, Melville, my good and faithful servant,\" she replied;\n\"thou shouldst rather rejoice to see the end of the long troubles\nof Mary Stuart. This world is vanity, and full of sorrows. I am\nCatholic, thou Protestant; but as there is but one Christ, I charge\nthee in his name to bear witness that I die firm in my religion.\nCommend me to my dearest son. May God forgive them that have thirsted\nfor my blood.\"\n\nShe then passed to the scaffold. She surveyed it, the block, the axe,\nthe executioners, and spectators undauntedly as she advanced. She\nprayed to God to pardon her sins and forgive her enemies.\n\nThe two executioners knelt and prayed her forgiveness.\n\n\"I forgive you and all the world with all my heart; for I hope this\ndeath will give an end to all my troubles.\" She then knelt down and\ncommended her spirit into God's hands, and the executioners did their\nwork.\n\nThe sad tale is told. All the actors have been nearly three centuries\nin their graves; but their story shall stir the hearts of men till\nthe world's end.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[37] _Mary Stuart. Her Guilt or Innocence. An Inquiry into the Secret\nHistory of her Times._ By Alexander McNeel Caird. Edinburgh: Adam &\nCharles Black. 1869.\n\n[38] _Bothwell: A Poem in Six Parts._ By W. Edmonstoune Aytoun,\nD.C.L. Author of _Lays of the Scottish Cavaliers_, _Bon Gaultier's\nBallads_, etc. Boston: Ticknor & Fields.\n\n[39] Mr. Froude, by \"reactionary,\" means that he was not a disciple\nof John Knox; by \"dangerous,\" that he was a man who would defend his\nreligion.\n\n\n\n\nA BRIDEMAID'S STORY.\n\n\nA bridemaid! I had become a necessity. A sense of such importance was\nnovel to me. It was a pleasant awakening to a consciousness that I\nhad attained womanhood. To have been a bride would not have filled me\nwith such unmingled joy; for then I might have been thinking over the\npossibilities of the future. Now I had only to play my part in the\nbright and bewildering present.\n\nThat there had been bridemaids before my time, of the loftiest and\nof the lowliest degree, from the jewelled princess to the humble\ndairy-maid, rendered my position none the less novel and refreshing.\nThen, too, the circumstances of the case were not to be lightly\npassed over--I had been chosen from among so many whose claims to\nconsideration were far above mine.\n\nAn imaginative child always seeks and finds some object in which to\nconcentrate its thoughts and its loves; something real to serve as an\nembodiment of its ideal fancies. Hence, all the wealth of my fervent\nnature had centred on Marian Howard.\n\nFrom earliest childhood I had watched and wondered at her rare and\nhigh-born beauty. Every feature in her face seemed to have a distinct\nand separate fascination, while every adornment of dress that could\nenhance her varied charms was brought into requisition. To look upon\nher was a feast of pleasure to my eyes.\n\nThe quiet dignity of her manner kept a distance between us, so that\nshe was a sort of far-off idol, after all. In her company we never\ngave way to our outgushing school-girl nature. I sometimes thought\nshe would be happier if she were only more like us, or if we should\nwelcome her with a girl's free and fervent greeting. But who dared\ntry the experiment?\n\nAs we grew older, our paths in life diverged. Soon after leaving\nschool, Marian went to live and to love in a foreign land, while I\nreturned to the quiet pleasures of a rural home.\n\nFour years passed, and then the fine old house which had so long\nremained silent again showed signs of life. They had returned--the\nwidowed aunt and her beautiful niece.\n\nThe preparations for the wedding were immediately commenced, and\nMarian repaid my early devotion by offering me the highest mark of\nher confidence and regard.\n\nThe old tenderness came rushing back when I again beheld her more\nstately and more beautiful than ever. She told me it would be a\nquiet wedding--only a few friends, and I her only bridemaid. My\narrangements were soon completed, and I awaited anxiously the\nappointed time. Soon it was the day before the marriage. I went over\nto assist in the final preparations, and was to spend the night with\nMarian. The morrow would witness, in the case of my friend, the great\nevent of a woman's life--to be given away in marriage. I say of a\nwoman's life, because marriage can hardly have the same significance\nfor men; they are not given away.\n\nThe distinguished stranger who was so soon to call Marian his wife\nwas certainly unlike any of the men I had ever known; but I had known\nso few, and my knowledge of the world was so limited, that I did not\nfeel competent to pass judgment on him. Then there were such method,\nsuch calmness and system about the man, about the unbending aunt,\nabout Marian, and about the whole house, that I felt cold with a\nchilling sense of not being able to get warm again, though it was a\nlovely summer afternoon. More of nature and less of art, I thought,\nmight have warmed the approaching festivities.\n\nThe evening shadows were falling. We had just finished arranging and\nrearranging the costly bridal gifts, when Marian was summoned to\nattend her aunt.\n\nAmong the other presents was that grand conception, Gustave Dor\u00e9's\n_Wandering Jew_. This work of human genius seemed a strange companion\nfor the rare articles of luxury that surrounded it.\n\nI took up the book and went out upon the balcony. The softly-fading\ntwilight, the subdued spirit of the house, the reflective turn my own\nmind had taken, prepared me for impressions of the awful and sublime.\n\nIt is said that \"real genius always rises, and in rising it\nfinds God.\" Surely the force and truth of this thought were here\nexemplified; for who could look upon these scenes, so truthful and\nintense, without a feeling of awe and reverence?\n\nI was thus occupied, I know not how long, when suddenly Mr. Gaston\nrecalled me to myself. \"How absorbed you are, Miss Heartly! I have\nbeen watching you with much interest. Pray, has the book any bearing\nupon the coming events of to-morrow? Court beauties, I suppose,\" he\ncontinued carelessly, as he came toward me.\n\n\"Why!\" said I, \"you have returned early, Mr. Gaston. You cannot have\ntaken that delightful drive Marian proposed to you?\"\n\n\"No,\" he answered; \"I have no inclination for solitude; but you\nladies are so occupied with these time-killing nothings, these\nendless little arrangements so indispensable to your happiness, that\nwe lonely mortals are entirely ignored and forgotten.\"\n\n\"I think, sir, that calamity seldom befalls you,\" I replied, thus\nadding, perhaps, to vanity already sufficiently great.\n\n\"But the book?\" he continued, opening it listlessly. \"Oh! the old\nfable in a new dress. It is strange how women cling to the marvellous\nand impossible. They seem to have but two absorbing ideas--love and\nreligion. Extremes in either usually lead to the same pernicious\nresult. I suppose an idol is a necessity to them, and it matters\nlittle in which they find it.\"\n\n\"I do not understand you,\" I replied. \"Are you in jest, or are you\nseriously denouncing revealed religion?\"\n\n\"Revealed religion!\" he repeated. \"Is it possible that, at this stage\nof the world's advancement, _you_ still cling to that antiquated idea\nof Christianity?\"\n\nThe modern methods of fashioning a god to suit the impious desires of\nvain and conceited mortals was then unknown to me. I looked at the\nman with wonder and distrust. He read my confusion and hastened to\nexplain himself.\n\n\"Religion,\" he said, \"as you accept it, makes us cowards instead of\nmen. My reason is _my_ religion; I acknowledge no other guide.\"\n\n\"Ah! then,\" I exclaimed, \"how often must you stumble by the way.\"\nI turned to the most effective picture in the book. \"Here is an\ninstance of the vanity of human pride. Here we can see the end of\nman's boasted strength--the anguish of a lost soul hopelessly looking\nfor repose and peace.\"\n\n\"An imposing fable,\" he replied, \"wanting only a woman's faith to\ngive it substance and reality.\"\n\nI was rising to put an end to this unprofitable and distasteful\nconversation, when Marian joined us. My disturbed manner plainly\nannoyed her, and she evidently suspected its cause; for she addressed\nMr. Gaston in German quite earnestly. Soon turning to me he said,\n\"Pray, excuse me, Miss Heartly; I was not aware that you were a\nCatholic. I know your people feel most keenly what they profess. Of\ncourse you have already stamped me a condemned heretic.\"\n\n\"It is not for me to pass judgment on you,\" I replied; \"and if I did,\nmy opinion could be of very little value.\"\n\n\"Come, come!\" said Marian, \"this is a most unapt and gloomy subject\nfor my marriage eve; and the sun, too, has gone down sullenly. I hope\nthere is nothing prophetic in all this.\"\n\n\"What! growing serious now?\" I said, as I drew her arm within mine,\nand we went to look for the fiftieth time at the final arrangements\nfor the morrow's festivities.\n\nI could not, however, throw off the feeling of uneasiness that my\ninterview with Mr. Gaston had left. He had a way of cheapening one,\nso that, without knowing why, you fell immeasurably in your own\nestimation. This is never a comfortable condition to find one's self\nin, and it takes a good deal of nice logic to bring one back to one's\nnormal state.\n\nPerhaps it was the loftiness of his style that awed me; for he\nhad a magnificent way of carelessly throwing the world behind him\nand walking forth in a sort of solitary dignity. \"His manners are\ncourtly,\" Marian's aunt said, and certainly they possessed all the\ncold stiffness that characterized her particular circle; still, I\nfelt I had no real grounds for this feeling of distrust and aversion\nto Mr. Gaston, and I began to think it was rather ungenerous to\nhold him in so unfavorable a light. I could not shake off, however,\nan undefined dread of the approaching marriage. The apathy and\nindifference which had always been peculiar to my young friend did\nnot forsake her even now, when apparently on the very threshold of\nhappiness. I thought that intensity of feeling perhaps kept her thus\nsilent, for overpowering happiness has this effect sometimes. The\ndelusion was, however, speedily dispelled.\n\nThat night a sealed chapter in Marian's life was laid open to me, and\nI saw her as I had never seen or thought of her before.\n\nAfter locking the chamber-door, she seated herself by my side, and\nsaid, \"This is the first time in my life that I have known perfect\nfreedom; I mean a liberty to do and say what I like with a feeling of\nsecurity.\n\n\"You remember the 'Greek Slave.' Well, I am not unlike that delicate\ngirl chained in the market-place. Every inclination of my heart has\nbeen chained down and locked, and my aunt has kept the key.\n\n\"I was an uncomplaining, passionless child. In my cradle I received\nmy first lessons in self-control. As I grew older, I learned\nanother lesson, too unnatural for even a thoughtful child like me\nto understand. I was not needed here; I was considered only as a\ndesirable ornament for this great house. I might as well have been\nplaced upon a pinnacle and petrified at once, for all the childhood\nthat was allowed to take root within me.\n\n\"My aunt's domestic misfortunes had embittered her, and she had no\nchildren to soften the natural austerity of her soul. My mother, who\nwas her only sister, had, contrary to my aunt's wishes, married where\nher heart inclined. This was never forgiven or forgotten until she\nlay dead, and I was a wailing infant at her side.\n\n\"My father soon afterward perished at sea, and my aunt took me to\nher home.\n\n\"She was not designedly cruel; but she knew nothing of a child's\nrequirements. The freezing system seemed to her the most effectual\nmethod of crushing out a young, impulsive nature. There was danger I\nmight become rebellious, and hence she required the utmost meekness\nand submission.\n\n\"As soon as I came to understand the power of beauty, I saw that\nit was to mine I owed food and raiment; for it fed the exhaustless\nvanity of my aunt, with whom display was then, and still is, the\nmoving spring of her existence.\n\n\"I was a drawing-room child, kept for exhibition at stated intervals.\nThe tiny jewels on my neck and arms were hateful to me. My\nembroidered robe was a costly thing. I had given a young life for it.\n\n\"I had a mortal fear of losing my beauty. Our gardener's daughter--a\ncomely, cheerful-looking girl, whom I was always glad to see, for she\nmade the morning brighter with her fresh young face--had caught that\nloathsome disease, the small-pox. When she recovered, the change that\nhad come upon her so terrified me, that I was seized with a sensation\nas of coming danger. I shrank from the girl, as if she would be the\ncause of some future misery to me.\n\n\"She had a mother to whom she seemed infinitely more dear now than\nshe had ever been. But I, a lonely waif, what would become of me if I\nshould be transformed like her?\n\n\"It was not altogether for my own gratification that I desired to\nretain this beauty. It was not my own beauty. It belonged to my aunt,\nand was all I had to give her in return for what she gave me.\n\n\"I was not a child that saw angels in the skies, or that expected\nmanna to come down from heaven to feed me.\n\n\"Artificial and unsatisfying as my life has always been, I have a\nclinging desire to remain with it.\n\n\"At times I have had a vaguely conceived notion of one day getting\naway from it and of being free; but the bending and breaking system\nhas so subdued me that I might lose myself if left to the guidance of\nmy own free-will.\n\n\"Marriage is a solemn thing. Would you like to change places with me\nto-night, Mary?\"\n\nI could not say yes, and I dared not say no; for I saw that she was\nlosing courage, and beginning to hesitate about the important event\nso soon to transpire.\n\n\"That is a strange question, Marian dear,\" I replied. \"To-morrow\nought to be, and I hope will be, the happiest day of your life.\nSurely you must love this man when you have promised to be his wife?\"\n\n\"Oh! yes,\" said she, \"as well as I understand what it is to love. I\nsometimes tremble for fear I have not the qualities that make woman\nlovable and attractive. You forget how little I know of Edward Gaston.\n\n\"Our acquaintance began in a little German town, where he was\nstopping, for the purpose of establishing his claims to a disputed\ninheritance. He is an American by birth and education. He soon became\na constant visitor with us. My aunt and he were on the best of terms.\nMy own interest in him had never passed beyond the civilities of an\nordinary acquaintance until he again joined us at Naples, where he\nlost no time in making known the state of his feelings.\n\n\"My aunt seemed to have had some previous knowledge of his\npreference; but its announcement was to me a complete surprise.\n\n\"She was proud of her nice discrimination in the selection of\nher friends, and Mr. Gaston had come into our circle labelled and\nindorsed a gentleman.\n\n\"Her gracious consideration, however, of his offer, in no wise\nobscured her caution. Satisfied as to his worldly affairs, and well\nassured of his position at home, there was nothing wanting but my\nconsent, which was really the most trifling part of the arrangement.\nI accepted this marriage engagement as I would have accepted any\nother condition so mapped out for me.\n\n\"Business of a pressing nature which could be delayed no longer,\ncalled Mr. Gaston to America, and I did not see him again until our\nreturn a month ago.\n\n\"You see how little I know of him. Can you wonder that I am\nconstrained in his presence? Of course, every thing will be different\nwhen I come to know him better.\n\n\"But I have one cause of feverish anxiety. I am not above the petty\nsubterfuges almost incidental to a life like mine. A desire to hide\nmistakes committed through childish ignorance made me unscrupulous,\nas any member of a household who is watched and suspected must\nnaturally be. Habit may have made these little irregularities almost\na second nature, but my blood recoils from a wilful and deliberate\ndeception. I am afraid Edward is misled with regard to my aunt's\npecuniary condition.\n\n\"This life of seeming affluence, which has become as necessary to her\nas the air she breathes, drains heavily on her slender resources.\nSuch portion of her time as is not spent in her handsome carriage, or\nin drawing-room entertainments, is passed in a most frugal and even\nparsimonious mode of living, and it is only by an economy painful to\ncontemplate that she has kept things floating thus far.\n\n\"I cannot acquaint Edward with my aunt's existing embarrassments.\nShe is my only kinswoman; and misguided as she is, I have a tender\naffection for her. I hope to be able to offer her a home with us,\nwhen, as soon must be the case, the last act in this miserable farce\nshall have been played.\n\n\"Now, perhaps, you can understand why I thus passively submit to a\nmarriage that I would turn from if I could. I cannot openly say to\nMr. Gaston, 'I have no fortune, I hope you expect none;' even to\ncovertly approach the subject would be to impugn his motives, and I\ncertainly have no right to suspect him of harboring mercenary ones.\nStill, I wish he were acquainted with the truth; for the world, you\nknow, looks upon me as sole heiress of my rich aunt.\n\n\"I have no knowledge of what passed between Edward and my aunt at\nNaples, when our marriage was agreed upon; but I have a constant\ndread least he may have been deceived. I once mentioned to him, in\nconversation, that he would claim a portionless bride; but he seemed\nto take no notice of what I said, and I fear he still thinks my\naunt's circumstances to be in reality what they seem.\"\n\n\"In giving way,\" I replied, \"to such groundless fears, dear Marian,\nyou underrate your own worth. Think how many noble and honorable\nmen would be proud to call you wife, and in giving you a life of\nhappiness make amends for the past.\" Yet as I looked in the silver\nstarlight upon that lovely face, which had so attracted me in my\nchildhood, I could not but regret deeply and sadly that she was not\nof my faith; for then she might receive wiser counsel than I could\ngive from one of those whom Christ in his mercy has ordained to be a\nguide and a staff to weak and wavering souls.\n\nThe wedding breakfast was all that even Marian's fastidious aunt\ncould have desired. The few favored guests were of the most approved\ntype. It would seem as if a judicious instructor had given each\nof them a select number of words, which they used with exemplary\ncaution, and then retired to the contemplation of their own\nindividual greatness.\n\nAs to Marian, the despondency of the night before had quite left\nher, and there was a high and noble resolve in her manner that made\nme truly happy to behold, while it calmed, if it did not entirely\ndispel, my own gloomy forebodings. The serene expression of her sweet\nface would have drawn me nearer to her, if that were possible.\n\nHow I loved her, as she stood before me, beautiful in the purity\nof her white robe, and infinitely more beautiful in the chastened\nsecurity of her firm and lofty purpose--to be a true and honorable\nwife to Edward Gaston; to meet the conditions of her new life,\nwhatever they might be, with a woman's trust and confidence, and\nbetter still, with a woman's hope in the never-failing reward of duty\nfaithfully performed.\n\nI could have been positively gay through desire to sustain Marian,\nand to let her know, without telling her in words, how thoroughly I\nappreciated and how heartily I approved her noble intentions, her\ncourage and confidence; but as measured words and actions alone were\nallowed, I had to restrain myself. Still, the cooling process did not\ndiminish my ardor, and when I got Marian all to myself, in her room,\nI kissed her so approvingly, and was so extravagant in the expression\nof all that I felt, that she folded me with loving tenderness to her\nbreast, and kept me there so long that I felt with the quick beating\nof her warm heart she was giving me some of her own newly-found\ncourage.\n\n\"Whatever happens to me, Mary dear, in the extremity of any darkness\nthat may come upon me, I shall always know that you are true to me,\nthat you are still my friend.\"\n\nThe tears that fell upon her hand as she gently raised my head, were\nmy only answer, and she accepted them in the spirit in which they\nwere shed.\n\nIn returning to my ordinary duties, I had much to reflect upon, much\nthat made me still uneasy for Marian and her future, where so many\ndoubts and fears seemed hanging on the will of one human being.\n\nVague rumors of Mr. Gaston had reached us, that he was a man wholly\nwithout fortune, drifting on the surface of events; darker things,\ntoo, were whispered with an indirectness which gave them an uncertain\ncoloring. In my love for Marian, and in my fear for her, I could\nnot credit these suspicions; yet my anxiety to again see her, and\ndiscover for myself the truth or fallacy of these reports, was\nintense. Indeed, my state of anxious doubt was becoming intolerable\nwhen I received a letter from Marian, telling me she was already\ntired of travelling, and would return soon to make a last visit to\nher old home before leaving for her future and distant one.\n\nIt was agreed that they should spend the day after their arrival with\nus. I was so happy and so occupied in preparing for their reception,\nthat I had almost forgotten my previous anxiety in my present desire\nto have every thing ready and in perfect order.\n\nThe pleasure I felt in the prospect of having my darling with me\nso soon was dreadfully toned down by the consciousness of my own\ninability to satisfy her aunt's critical taste. I trembled as I\nthought of her scrutinizing glance; but I had a never-failing source\nof hope in my mother. Her good-natured hospitality was of such a\nmelting kind that I dared hope that even the rigid aunt might thaw\nunder it, which she really did, greatly to my relief and comfort.\n\nThe dinner passed off creditably. My tranquillity was now entirely\nrestored, and I had time to devote to Marian.\n\nUp to this moment I had viewed her through the medium of my excited\ncondition; now I was calmed, and, so far as the affairs of the day\nwent, contented.\n\nMarian's manner was restless and uneasy. My perception was keenly\nalive to the slightest difference between what she did and said now\nand to what she did and said formerly. So solicitous was I, that I\nthink the most trifling modulation in her voice had a significance\nfor me.\n\nMuch as I had looked forward to this reunion, much as I had desired\nit, now that Marian was with me, I shrank from being alone with her.\nI think if we had been that summer evening even in the solitude of a\nmountain fastness, an intuitive delicacy would have kept both of us\nfrom speaking one word upon the only subject that filled our hearts.\n\nMy mother's humanizing influence was having its effect on the stately\nold lady. She was captured without knowing it. Mr. Gaston had gone\nout for a walk; so Marian and I were left alone. I tried to talk\nabout her new home, and repeated some things Mr. Gaston had told me\nbefore the wedding.\n\n\"Edward has changed his mind,\" said Marian, \"and has found it\nnecessary to make some different arrangements; so I really cannot\ntell much about our home. It is very far away; don't you think so,\nMary?\" I saw that her feelings were beginning to get the upper\nhand, and I did not dare trust myself to reply. I turned from her\nimmediately on the pretext of having forgotten some household duty.\nShe strolled out to the garden in a spiritless way.\n\nEvery thing was revolving itself in my mind, and I was beginning to\nreproach myself; perhaps if I had encouraged her to speak, it might\nhave lifted the load from her heart; another opportunity might not\nbe permitted us; and yet, bowed down as the poor girl was, it would\nnot have raised her in my esteem had she even with me disparaged her\nhusband. To cover him with a wife's forbearance was now one of her\nhard but imperative duties, and I knew she would not shrink from\nit. This must be a check to our confidence, a bridge over which my\nkindliest sympathy must never pass.\n\nUnmistakable evidences of a storm close at hand made me run to\nthe arbor where I had last seen Marian. She was not there. While\ndeliberating where I should next go, I heard Mr. Gaston's impatient\ntread. He stopped by a clump of trees near me, and in tones of\nsuppressed anger commenced upbraiding his defenceless wife.\n\n\"What did you mean by suggesting such a thing as that?\" he began;\n\"have you any right to dispense hospitalities, to propose or consider\nthem in that grand style of yours?\"\n\n\"In expressing the wish,\" replied Marian, \"that my aunt would be\nable to spend the winter with us, I had no intention of doing any\nthing beyond a natural act of gratitude; and I was not aware, Edward,\nthat your feelings had so changed toward her. I am sure she has done\nnothing to merit your displeasure.\"\n\n\"Nothing to merit my displeasure? You are a most creditable disciple!\nShe has made you like herself, truly. Is it nothing in your eyes\nthat she has always lived a life of nicely-arranged deception? Your\naccomplished aunt has conducted a forlorn hope with a woman's tact,\nand the victims of her trickery are expected to bow to her superior\nsagacity. In a burst of universal sympathy you propose to take this\nwreck of decayed grandeur to my house. This was a part of the plot, I\nsuppose.\"\n\n\"Edward,\" interrupted Marian, \"how dare you speak in this way of\nmy aunt, who has shown you so many marks of sincere regard? That\nshe has not husbanded her resources, I grant; but that misfortune\nrests entirely with her, she is the only sufferer. She made you no\npromises, gave you no reason to expect a fortune with me; this I have\nlearned since our marriage. Have no fear of the incumbrance. Dear as\nshe is to me, I would rather let her beg from door to door than see\nher a recipient of your bounty!\"\n\n\"Oh! you are proud now,\" he replied in a voice of withering scorn.\n\"Take care,\" he continued; \"you have not seen the end yet. Make\nyourself ready to depart. I want to leave this house instantly.\"\n\n\"Edward,\" she said, \"however you choose to afflict me, whatever\ntortures you have in store for me, do not, I beseech you, subject me\njust yet to the pity of those I love, of those who love me. These\npeople are my truest friends. I would not make them sharers of my\nmisery. Spare me a little longer.\"\n\n\"Your fine speeches and these people are alike objects of\nindifference to me. Make yourself ready; I am going.\"\n\nShe made a movement to obey him; but turning round again, she said,\n\"Edward\"--the voice and tone I shall never forget; it was as if all\nshe had ever valued in life had whispered a last farewell--\"Edward,\nas I had hoped to give you a wife's unfailing duty, to be trustful,\nloving, and true; so I had hoped you would give me a husband's\nprotection, and perhaps a husband's love.\"\n\n\"I am not fond of scenes,\" he interrupted; \"your requirements are\nof so nice and delicate a nature that I would be quite incapable of\ngratifying them; so I shall not trouble myself to make the attempt;\nand for the future, spare yourself any unnecessary display of\nsentiment.\"\n\nI could not have left the arbor without being seen. Marian passed\nby slowly, not to the house, but in an opposite direction, and Mr.\nGaston started for the lower end of the garden. I caught a glimpse of\nhim as he turned an angle of the walk. A wicked look had settled on\nhis handsome face, as if dark spirits were urging him on.\n\nA peal of thunder, prolonged and terrible, startled me. I ran to the\nhouse. The lightning was truly awful, and peal following peal of\nthunder made one shudder and long for human companionship. I had lost\nMarian in the gloom and darkness. She was not in the house; I did not\nsee her in the garden. I went out into the storm in search of her.\n\nI found her standing quite alone in sad and listless silence. Can\nit be, I thought, that death has no terrors for one so gifted and\nso young? She seemed imploring that doom which the most abject and\nmiserable would flee from if they could. I knew then, as well as I\nknew afterward, that she would have welcomed death that night without\none single regret.\n\n\"Marian, dear,\" I said, approaching her, \"how can you remain alone,\nand exposed in this manner, when every thing about you is quaking\nwith fear?\"\n\n\"I do not heed the storm,\" she answered; \"I like it, it is so\nwonderful.\"\n\n\"Come, come, darling! Why, the rain has drenched you,\" I replied,\nputting my arm about her and leading her to the house.\n\nThe storm had set in furiously. There was no leaving the house that\nnight. I resolved that Marian should sleep with me; so I went to Mr.\nGaston and told him I regretted our limited accommodations obliged me\nto offer him a temporary bed in the parlor.\n\nWhen I told Marian of this arrangement, she seemed relieved. \"I am\nglad to spend the night here and with you, Mary,\" she said. \"All is\nso quiet and peaceful.\"\n\nQuiet and peaceful! The greater storm in her own breast made her\nforget the contending elements without.\n\nMy aversion to Mr. Gaston was, I believe, heartily reciprocated, and\nhe must have chafed at my influence over Marian. He took her away\nfrom her home, never to return, on the very next day. They sailed for\nCuba shortly afterward.\n\nThe crisis Marian had feared for her aunt soon came, and she went,\nwith the remnant of her fortune, to live in some western town.\n\nSeven years had rolled by since all this, and Marian was fast passing\ninto the shadows we like to call up when the world is hushed around\nus and, we are thinking--thinking.\n\nI was married, and laughing children were crowding out these earlier\nremembrances.\n\nAn affection of the throat, from which my husband was suffering,\nrendered the best medical advice necessary. I accompanied him to New\nYork, where I found--let me pause in telling it, to do reverence to\nthe unseen hand that led me there--Marian.\n\nIn this lonely stranger how little do I behold of my childhood's\nearliest pride!\n\n\"From Clifton?\" said the physician thoughtfully, after examining my\nhusband's case. \"I have a patient, a strange case; she is paralyzed,\nand her mental faculties are stunned. A Cuban family brought her\nhere and placed her under my care. Her husband had committed a\nforgery, and had fled the country to escape arrest. She is an\naccomplished lady, I should judge. She was left in Havana quite poor\nand friendless. I have been led to speak to you about her because she\nis always writing two words--Mary and Clifton. The Spanish lady who\nbrought her here knew nothing of her former history.\"\n\nI was silent during this recital, and so white that the doctor\noffered me water. I thanked him, and expressed a wish to go to my\nfriend immediately.\n\n\"I cannot return to the hospital this morning,\" he said; \"but I will\ngive you my card, which will admit you to the lady at once.\"\n\nThere I found her, a silent, faded figure, sitting still, and for all\npurposes of life quite dead.\n\nI was awed as I stood before her. I sat down and took her poor,\nneglected hand in mine. She looked at me and made a feeble attempt\nto gather back her hair which had fallen in great disorder about\nher shoulders. I rose to do this for her. It was still glossy and\nbeautiful as ever. I began to arrange it in the fashion she had worn\nit seven years before. She took my hand from her head, laid it in\nher lap, chafed it, then reverently raised it to her lips. I could\nrestrain my tears no longer, and I hid my face in the folds of her\nfaded dress. She turned me toward her and wiped the tears from my\ncheek.\n\n\"You are going home with me, Marian darling,\" I said; \"to live always\nin our own old home.\"\n\n\"I know it,\" she whispered; \"I have been waiting for you so long, so\nvery long.\"\n\nThis was the first time she had spoken to me. The nurse had told me\nthat she spoke occasionally, but always in an absent and incoherent\nmanner.\n\nSea-bathing was recommended; but the doctor was of the opinion that\nher mind would never recover its original vigor.\n\nI would like him to see her as she left me this morning, calm and\nbeautiful, when the bell of the convent, where she is teaching\nGerman, summoned attendance.\n\nMy religion is no longer strange to her. She has accepted it as the\ncrowning blessing of her life, and with a thankful spirit she speaks\nof the chastening hand that led her to this security and peace.\n\n\n\n\nEXULTENT SION FILI\u00c6.\n\n    \"Who is this that cometh from the desert, flowing with\n    delights, leaning on the arm of her Beloved?\"\n\n                                          CANTICLES viii. 5.\n\n    Who is this from the wilderness coming,\n      From the desert so arid and bare,\n    On her own most Beloved One leaning--\n      Who is this so chaste and so fair?\n\n    Yes, out of a wilderness coming,\n      A desert of darkness and sin;\n    Lo! the Bridegroom, the promised, the glorious,\n      Lo! a Queen who is holy within!\n\n    See! her veil is thrown back from her features,\n      Arrayed in the lustre of light,\n    Like silver clean washed from the dross of the mine,\n      Like a lily she dawns on the sight--\n\n    Like a lily whose fair leaves encompass her stalk,\n      With an odor so piercing and sweet,\n    That the world, overpowered, feels ashamed of its pride,\n      And vanquished kneels down at her feet.\n\n    In the desert had tarried the Bridegroom of old\n      Forty days, forty nights, in his love,\n    Alone, while she who was dearest to him\n      In grief like a silver-winged dove,\n\n    Hid away in the deep, secret clefts of the rock,\n      Wailed his absence, and brooded so long,\n    And pined for his countenance, pined for his voice\n      To answer again to her song--\n\n    \"Now winter is past, the rain over and gone;\"\n      The flowers, too, have their banners unfurled,\n    While she waits for his promise; she knows he will come;\n      And he comes--the Light of the world!\n\n    To lead back each wandering sheep to his fold,\n      Who had waited so long in the porch;\n    To bring back to the dim world his darling, his rose,\n      His bride in her beauty, the church;\n\n    To open her gates that all may go in,\n      Not a wanderer left out in the cold,\n    The supper awaiting, the King's marriage feast,\n      With its Host and its chalice of gold.\n\n                                          SOPHIA MAY ECKLEY.\n\n\n\n\nMR. GLADSTONE AND THE IRISH FARMERS.\n\n\nThe long-expected bill for the settlement of the land question in\nIreland was introduced into the British Parliament a short time\nago by Mr. Gladstone in an explanatory speech of rare perspicuity\nand methodical statement. So fascinating, indeed, is the premier's\neloquence, so candid his confessions of the injustice of English law\nas at present existing in Ireland, and of the baleful consequences\nwhich have flowed from its operations in the agricultural interests\nof the people of the sister island, that for the time we forget how\nfar short are the measures he now proposes, in the form of an act of\nparliament, of the necessities of the case before him, and to which\nall his logic, rhetoric, and pathos form but the graceful prelude.\nTurning from the speech and carefully looking over the sixty-eight\nclauses of the proposed act, we are forcibly struck by the inadequacy\nof the proposed remedy for the terrible and manifold evils which have\nso long afflicted the tillers of Irish soil; and if, as Mr. Gladstone\nasserts, his object is not only to do justice to this long-oppressed\npeople, but to silence for ever the clamors and pacify at once the\nalmost chronic discontent of the country, it requires very little\nacumen to foresee that his scheme, even if not modified for the worse\nin its passage through either house, will be a failure, particularly\nas regards the latter results.\n\nThe head of the British cabinet, with all that ability and knowledge\nof public affairs which justly entitle him to be ranked foremost\namong living English statesmen, seems to have failed alike to\ncomprehend the magnitude of the abuses he would correct and to\nappreciate the wishes and expectations of the great majority of the\nIrish people. Whether through that obliquity of mental vision which\nhas always characterized English public men when attempting to deal\nwith Irish grievances, or from a dread of failure if he attempted to\ninaugurate a more radical change in the present relations between\nlandlord and tenant--and from a remark in his late speech, the latter\ncause would seem to be the most probable--he has been led into a\ncourse of policy which, while gaining him no allies in the opposition\nranks, will undoubtedly lessen his influence with a large portion of\nthe liberal party in both kingdoms. \"By fixity of tenure,\" says Dr.\nTaylor, \"is now clearly understood, in Ireland, that the right of the\ntenant to his land is to continue as long as the rent is paid, and\nthat the rent is to be adjusted at fixed periods, according to the\naverage price of produce;\" a statement fully indorsed by the Irish\npress and reiterated by the people at their recent numerous public\nmeetings. But the present bill contemplates no such thing, either in\nexpression or by implication; and lest it might so be understood, the\npremier in his speech devoted much of his time to demonstrate the\nfallacy and danger of such doctrines.\n\n    \"As I understand it,\" he says, \"the thing itself amounts to\n    this--that every occupier, as long as he pays the rent that\n    he is now paying, or a rent to be fixed by a public tribunal\n    of valuation, is to be assured, for himself and his heirs, an\n    occupation of the land that he holds without limit of time,\n    subject only to this condition, that with a variation in the\n    value of produce--somewhat in the nature of the commutation of\n    title act--the rent may vary somewhat slightly and at somewhat\n    distant periods. The effect of that is that the landlord would\n    become a pensioner and rent-charger upon his own estate.\n    The legislature has a perfect right to reduce him to that\n    condition, giving him proper compensation for any loss he may\n    sustain in money; the state has a perfect right to deal with\n    his social status, and to reduce him to that condition, if it\n    thinks fit. But then it is bound not to think fit unless it can\n    be shown that this is for the public good. Now, is it for the\n    public good that the landlords of Ireland, in a body, should be\n    reduced by an act of parliament to the condition, practically,\n    of fund-holders, entitled to apply on a certain day from year\n    to year for a certain sum of money, but entitled to nothing\n    more? Are you prepared to denude them of their interest in the\n    land? Are you prepared to absolve them from their duties with\n    regard to the land? I for one confess that I am not; nor is\n    that the sentiment of my colleagues.\"\n\nHere then is the issue at once raised, and as Mr. Gladstone's\nviews will receive the sanction of Parliament, we apprehend that\nthe proposed act, no matter how impartially executed, will fail to\nsatisfy the popular wants in Ireland. It cannot be denied that the\ngreat underlying principle of the tenant-right agitation is the\nconviction among the masses of the farmers and peasants of that\ncountry that the soil whereon they expend their labor, that others\nmay reap the profits, was and is rightfully their own; that it was\nforcibly and treacherously wrested from their ancestors by a foreign\nand hostile faction, whose descendants now claim to possess it, and\nwho wring from them the fruits of their toil, justly belonging to\nthe cultivators and their families. They do not, however, desire\na reconfiscation of this property; but they do demand a guarantee\nfrom the laws, under which they are content to live, that as long as\nthey pay a fair rent they shall not be disturbed in their holdings.\nThe question of leases for a term of years and compensation for\nimprovements, though very important in itself, is merely secondary to\nfixity of tenure. That once guaranteed, in the Irish and not in Mr.\nGladstone's sense, the impetus which would be given to the farming\nindustry of the country would be so great that time and economy only\nwould be required to establish a large class of small land _owners_\nin fee, thus virtually undoing the spoliations of former days, and\ndividing up the large estates now devoted principally to pleasure or\npasturage, and held by a few persons who neither reside in, know,\nor care for the nation from which they draw such exorbitant rents.\nThe entire land of Ireland consists of nearly sixteen million acres\nof arable land, and five millions more susceptible of cultivation,\nowned absolutely by less than six thousand persons, thus giving to\neach proprietary an average of thirty-five hundred acres, independent\nof mountain, bog, and riparian lands, all more or less useful for\nthe sustenance of human life. Then the majority of those owners,\nincluding the representatives of the very large estates almost\nwithout exception, are absentees who in the aggregate draw from the\nsoil an annual revenue estimated at forty millions of dollars; not a\ntithe of it is ever returned to the country in any manner, except in\nthe form of receipts. We find that the tenants from whom this large\nforeign tribute is exacted number over six hundred thousand heads of\nfamilies, representing at least three and a half million of souls,\nonly one in thirty of whom holds a lease of any sort, the remainder\nbeing entirely dependent politically and socially on the will of\nthe landlord, or his agents and bailiffs. This anomalous state of\naffairs in a country supposed to be at least comparatively free is\nheightened by the fact that the views and aims of the landlord class\nand those of the tenantry, which ought to coincide on all matters\naffecting the national good, are decidedly the reverse of each other.\nAs a whole, the religion, politics, and traditions of the owners of\nthe soil have always placed them in opposition to their tenants and\ndependents; so firmly, indeed, that even the demands of patriotism\nand the allurements of pecuniary gain, powerful for most men, have\nfailed to swerve the Irish landlord from his blind and bigoted\npurpose of repressing the laudable enterprise, and of ignoring the\ncommonest rights, of the people from whom he derives his wealth and\nposition. In countries like Belgium, Scotland, or Switzerland, where\nmanufactures are encouraged and capital is abundant, this slavish\nrelationship between landlord and tenant would be a secondary\ngrievance; but in Ireland, which is essentially an agricultural\ncountry, the enormity of the evil cannot well be over-estimated.\n\"About two thirds of the population of England,\" said the late W.\nSmith O'Brien, \"are dependent on manufactures and commerce, directly\nor indirectly. In this country (Ireland) about nine tenths of the\npopulation are dependent on agriculture, directly or indirectly.\" \"An\nancient vassal,\" said Van Raumer, a distinguished German traveller,\nwho some years ago visited Ireland, \"is a lord compared with the\npresent tenant at will, to whom the law affords no defence;\" and a\nrecent decision in chancery declares that \"if a tenant holding from\nyear to year makes permanent improvements in the lands which he\nholds, this raises no equity as against the landlord, though he may\nhave looked on and not have given any warning to the tenant.\"\n\nBut we have a more recent authority on the condition of the Irish\nfarmers of to-day in the person of the special commissioner of the\n_London Times_, who certainly cannot be accused of over-partiality\nin describing the condition of that much oppressed class. Writing\nfrom Mullingar under date September 14th, 1869, he says, \"By far the\nlargest portion of the country is still occupied by small farmers,\nwho legally are merely tenants at will, though they have added much\nto the value of the soil by building, draining, fencing, and tillage,\nand though they have purchased their interests in numerous instances,\nand it is probable they will long maintain their ground, though the\narea they hold is being diminished. The existing law is not a rule\nof right to this body of men in their actual position; it exposes\nwhat in truth is their property, the benefits they have added to the\nland, to be confiscated by a summary process; it sets at naught the\nequitable right acquired by a transfer for value with the assent of\nthe landlord.\" From Cork, after a month's further investigation, he\nagain writes, \"As for the landed system of the country as a whole,\nit is, in its broadest outlines, essentially the same as that which\nI have so often described, except that its vices are very prominent.\nSpeaking generally, the same religious differences divide the owner\nand the occupier of the soil; the absenteeism is too prevalent; there\nis the same wide-spread insecurity of tenure; the law in the same way\nupholds the power of the landlord, and disregards the just claims of\nthe tenant; there is the same creation of vast rights of property\nin the form of improvements, by the peasantry, unprotected by the\nleast legal sanction, and liable, nay, exposed to confiscation;\nvague usage similarly is the only safeguard against frequent and\nintolerable injustice.\" Conceding to Mr. Gladstone and his colleagues\nthe greatest honesty of intention in the introduction of the present\nbill, and aware of the powerful and not over-scrupulous opposition\nwhich any remedial measure advocated by them must encounter from the\ntory and landed classes, yet in view of such patent abuses as stated,\nas well as from the assurances of Mr. Bright and others--supposed\nto be in the confidence of the ministry, we had a right to expect a\nmeasure more general, emphatic, and sweeping in its reforms. Still,\nas the bill will be passed substantially as presented, with perhaps\nthe addition of a few unimportant amendments likely to be offered\nby the Irish members, it is important to examine in detail its main\nfeatures as far as they relate to what is defined in the preamble as\n\"security of tenure.\"\n\nThe first subdivision of the bill provides for the loaning of\npublic moneys to landlords and tenants on the following conditions:\nWhere the landlord is willing to sell and the tenant to purchase a\nparticular farm, then in his actual occupancy, at a price agreed\nupon between the parties, the government will advance the tenant\nthe necessary funds; and when the landlord is only willing to part\nwith his estate in bulk, the actual occupiers of four fifths, and\nany person or persons not occupiers joined with them, may become\npurchasers of the whole, and a similar advance will be made. In\nother words, the government takes the place of the selling landlord,\npays him indirectly the price agreed upon, and reimburses itself by\nannual instalments from the tenant, now become the owner, until the\nentire purchase money is paid off. This seems favorable enough for\nthe enterprising tenant, and to any other than Irish landlords would\noffer strong inducements to dispose of a portion, at least, of their\nunwieldy and often heavily encumbered estates, and would promote the\nmultiplication of moderate sized and better cultivated farms; but\nas we are aware of the hostility of that unpatriotic class to every\nthing tending to the elevation of their tenantry to a position of\ncomparative equality, we have little hope of the efficacy of this\nprovision. Indeed, Mr. Gladstone seems also of this opinion; for\nin his late speech in allusion to the subject, he says, \"I myself\nhave not been one of those who have been disposed to take the most\nsanguine view of the extent to which a provision of that kind would\noperate.\" Purchasers of reclaimed land not occupied are to have\nthe same privileges as occupiers of cultivated lands. The landlord\nlikewise is to have his share of the public money for the purpose of\nreclaiming waste lands adjoining his estate, and in some instances,\nfor paying off the compensation claims of his out-going tenant. All\nthese loans, securities, repayments, and annuities are to be under\nthe direction of the Irish Board of Works at Dublin.\n\nThe legal machinery for carrying these and subsequent clauses of\nthe bill into effect will consist of two classes of courts. One of\narbitration, consisting of appointees of the parties interested,\nwhose decision shall have all the force of law, and from which there\nshall be no appeal. The other will be a regular court of law, with\nvery extensive equity jurisdiction, composed, in the first instance,\nof a civil bill court, presided over by an assistant barrister of\nsessions; an appeal court, composed of two judges of assize, who may\nreserve important cases for trial before the court for land cess in\nDublin. Taking into consideration the relative wealth and personal\ninfluence of the parties litigant, we might hope for a less expensive\nand complicated mode of procedure; but as the law's delays are still\nas proverbial on the other side of the Atlantic as on this, it is\nperhaps the least objectionable plan that could be devised. Much\ncertainly will depend on the independence and humanity of the courts;\nfor while they will be bound by the principles laid down in the bill,\nit is authorized--\n\n    \"On hearing of any dispute between landlord and tenant in\n    respect of compensation under this act, either party may make\n    any claim, urge any objection to the claims of the other, or\n    plead any set-off such party may see fit, and the court shall\n    take into consideration any such claim, objection, or set-off,\n    and also any such default or unreasonable conduct of either\n    party as may appear to the court to affect any matter in\n    dispute between the parties,\" etc., and give judgment on the\n    equities of the same.\n\nThe bill then proceeds to secure and define the tenure of all holders\nof agricultural land, dividing them into four classes: holders by\nthe custom of Ulster, by customs analogous to that of Ulster in\nthe other provinces, tenants from year to year and at will, and\nlease-holders generally.\n\nThe custom of Ulster, derived strangely enough from the terms\nof James I.'s charter to the undertakers in 1613,[40] as well\nas from traditional usage, consists mainly of the right of the\nout-going tenant to compensation from his landlord for all permanent\nimprovements he may have made on the land, or that he has actually\npaid for to his predecessor, whether with or without the consent\nof his landlord; or the tenant may elect to sell the same with his\ngood-will of the farm to the best purchaser. This custom, covering\nabout a moiety of the 3,400,000 acres of Ulster, is to be formally\nrecognized as law only in that portion of the country, and in each\nindividual case where it now actually exists. But when \"the landlord\nhas, by a deliberate and formal arrangement with an occupier, bought\nup the Ulster tenant right, it shall not be pleaded against him;\"\nand where the tenant has so sold to the landlord or to the incoming\ntenant his right, he shall be debarred from all other compensation\nunder the act. The value of this custom, though heretofore only\npartially recognized, will be perceived from the fact that, though\nUlster is by no means the most fertile section, the average annual\nvalue of its lands is from four to four and a half dollars per acre\ngreater than the other portions of the country. Why this custom, so\nmanifestly beneficial to all classes, should only be made general in\nUlster, but not throughout the island, it is difficult to determine.\n\nThere are also customs in other parts of the country which have\nbecome traditional, and are said to resemble somewhat that of Ulster;\nbut to what extent they prevail, or of their exact nature, we are\nnot informed. They are commonly supposed to include the right of\ncompensation for improvements of a certain sort, and the sale of the\ngood-will by the out-going tenant. These, however, are not regarded\nwith the same degree of fairness; for they can only be pleaded when\nthe landlord by his own act severs the relation between himself and\ntenant; and when pleaded, all arrears of rent or damages to the farm\nmay be claimed as an off-set; they are forfeited by ejectment for\nnon-payment of rent, or by sub-letting or subdividing the holding,\nand are extinguished by the acceptance of a lease of thirty-one years\nor upward. This is the first attempt we notice in the bill to induce\nthe landlords to grant leases, and we regret to find that throughout\nits entire length, with the exception of one clause, there is nothing\nat all prohibitory in its provisions. What good reason can exist for\nthe preservation of the custom of Ulster under a lease, while those\nof the other three sections are bartered away for that privilege? Is\nthis not another evidence of the partiality of a reform which should\nbe as comprehensive as the evils to be eradicated are wide-spread?\n\nThe most important part of the bill is that which relates to the\nyearly tenant and tenant at will; for it affects by far the largest\nand most defenceless class of Irish farmers. Out of six hundred\nthousand heads of families who derive their existence directly from\nthe soil, five hundred and eighty thousand, or nearly ninety-seven\nper centum of the whole, are of this class, and are liable at any\ntime to be thrown on the charity of the world by the edict of a\nlandlord or his agent, deprived not only of their sole means of\nlivelihood, but of whatever benefits they may have conferred on their\nlittle holdings by their hard labor and well-earned money. It is\nuseless now to dwell on the horrible calamities which have resulted\nfrom the wholesale evictions of these unfortunate people, or on what\nfamine, pestilence, death, and too frequently agrarian crime, have\nyear after year flowed from the uncontrolled barbarities practised\non them by Irish landlords, armed with the terrors of law. The\nwailings and maledictions of the homeless and expatriated have so\nlong resounded through both hemispheres, that their very echoes have\nstartled the ears of their persecutors into something like attention.\n\"We have,\" says Mr. Gladstone from his place in the House of Commons,\n\"simplified the law against him, [the tenant,] and made ejectment\ncheap and easy.\"[41] This large class, therefore, if not receiving\nthat adequate protection to which they are justly entitled, will,\nunder the operation of the proposed act, have their interests placed\nbeyond jeopardy in such a manner as, compared with their present\npractical outlawry, will commend Mr. Gladstone to their gratitude.\nHaving no custom to plead, and consequently very little probability\nof obtaining leases, the landlord can still eject them; but he must\ndo so on a year's notice, duly stamped and dated from the previous\ngale day, and for proper cause, such as non-payment of rent or the\nrefusal of the tenant to accept another holding equal in value to\nthe one desired by the landlord. If the landlord acts without such\ncause, the tenant will be entitled to damages against him at the\ndiscretion of the court, exclusive of compensation for improvements\nand reclamation of land. The maximum measure of damages for wanton\nejectment is set down in the bill as follows:\n\n    Holdings valued at \u00a310              7 years' rent.\n       \"        \"      \u00a310 to \u00a350       5   \"     \"\n       \"        \"      \u00a350  to \u00a3100     3   \"     \"\n       \"        \"      \u00a3100 and upward  2   \"     \"\n\nIn any case the tenant upon ejectment will be entitled to\ncompensation for improvements, from which arrears of rent may be\ndeducted. It is the wise and beneficent intent of the bill to place\nthis helpless class under the special protection of the court, and\nmake it the object of large equity jurisdiction conferred; and\nit even holds out a release to the landlord of these penalties,\nproviding he gives to his yearly tenant a lease of at least\ntwenty-one years' duration.\n\nThe regulation of the tenure of lease-holders generally is most\njudicious, and the only compulsory one in the bill. In future all\nleases shall be submitted to, and the terms, as regards rents and\ncovenants, approved by, the court, before their validity will be\nrecognized. Heretofore, Irish leases have been made exclusively\nfor the benefit of one party, and the ingenuity of the lower grade\nof the legal profession seems to have been taxed to the utmost to\ndevise restrictions on husbandry. We have copies of several of those\ninstruments of recent execution before us, and they certainly smack\nmore of the pre-_magna-charta_ era than of the present enlightened\ncentury. A petition presented to the House of Commons at its last\nsession, from the inhabitants of the parish of Clonard, county of\nMeath, set forth that tenants there \"are charged with a penalty of \u00a35\nfor every tree, and every perch of hedge cut, injured, or destroyed;\"\nthey are to break no land without permission of the landlord,\nand even then only such land and in such manner as the landlord\nspecified; a fine of \u00a310 is exacted for \"each acre or part of acre\nassigned, let, underlet, or let in con-acre or otherwise, or meadowed\nwithout formal written permission;\" they are not to remove or cause\nto be removed any top-dressing, compost, or manure of any sort, nor\nany hay, straw, corn in the straw, holm, or fodder of any sort, nor\nany turnips, mangel-wurzel, or other green crop of any kind, under\npenalty of \u00a35 per load or part of load; and the top-dressing, manure,\netc., are to remain on the land at the termination of the tenancy,\nand are to be the property of the landlord. The Earl of Leitrim, a\nvery large landed proprietor in the north, probably not considering\nthe above restrictions sufficiently onerous, has had inserted in\nhis numerous leases clauses whereby the tenants are required to\npreserve his fish and game; and without his permission in writing\nthey are not to make any new roads, fences, or drains, nor to build\nup or alter houses or buildings, nor to grow two white grain crops\nin succession, nor to have beyond a certain maximum of tillage, nor\nto break up permanent grass-fields, nor to set potatoes where there\nhas been grass the year before,[42] nor to cut turf, etc.; and to\nsurrender their leases at _any time_ at six months' notice, or in\ncase any of them be imprisoned by any civil or criminal process for\na term exceeding fourteen days! But Edward Henry Cooper, who is\nsupposed sometimes to honor Markie Castle with his presence, requires\nnot only the observance of all the above conditions on the part\nof his serfs, but binds them to become informers and prosecutors\nin their _own names_ against any poachers who may be found in the\nleaseholds; and they are also to _procure evidence_ (how is not\nstated) against their neighbors who might kill a hare or spear a\nsalmon on their premises. The farmers who have the happiness of\nliving under this philanthropist are required \"to submit all disputes\nand differences touching trespass or measuring to, and abide by the\nfinal award of\"--Edward Henry Cooper or his agents; a very impartial\ntribunal, no doubt! The above extracts may be taken as specimens\nof the restrictions which surround even the most favored class of\nIrish farmers of the present day, and which, being made with all\nthe forms of law, backed by the certainty of the strict enforcement\nof the penalties, must have a direct and ruinous tendency to check\nimprovement and limit the scope of improved cultivation of lands.\n\nThe term improvements, so frequently met with in the bill, is defined\nto mean such as are suitable to the character of the holding and add\nto its letting value, such as buildings, reclaimed land, manures, and\ntillage, and the old rule of law, which presumed all improvements\nmade by the landlord unless proved to the contrary, is reversed in\nfavor of the tenant. No existing improvement will be paid for if not\nmade within twenty years previous to the passage of the act, except\npermanent buildings and reclaimed land, nor where by the terms of a\nlease the holder agreed to make the improvements at his own expense.\nIn the future no claim will be allowed for improvements made contrary\nto the terms of the letting, or for such as are not required for\nthe due cultivation of the farm, nor when the landlord agrees to\nmake them and does not neglect to do so, nor where the tenant, as\npart of the consideration of the lease, agrees to do them at his\nown charge. But whatever the tenant pays to the out-going tenant\nfor compensation, with the sanction of his landlord, he shall be\nreimbursed on the termination of his tenancy.\n\nSuch, in brief, is an outline of the law under which the farmers of\nIreland will have to live for some years to come. Although not all\nthey demand and have a right to expect, it is nevertheless a great\nimprovement on the present system, if system it may be called, under\nwhich they have so long tried to exist. Whatever is valuable in the\nlocal customs will be substantially preserved and legalized; the\ntenant will have some remote prospect of becoming a purchaser, and\nthe tenant at will, a leaseholder. Compensation for improvements is\nguaranteed to every one capable of paying his rent, and the luxury of\nevictions, if not destroyed, is made an expensive one for landlords.\nWe cannot expect that this measure, if passed in its best form, will\nwholly stop agitation in Ireland, but we trust and believe that it\nwill largely conduce to the wealth and industry of her people.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[40] The said undertakers shall not devise or lease any part of their\nlands at will, but shall make certain estates for years, for life, in\ntail or in fee simple.--_Art._ 12th, _charter_ of A.D. 1613.\n\n[41] \"In the number of farms, from one to five acres, the decrease\nhas been 24,147; from five to fifteen acres, 27,379; from fifteen to\nthirty acres, 4274; while of farms above thirty acres, the increase\nhas been 3670. Seventy thousand occupiers with their families,\nnumbering about three hundred thousand, were rooted out of the land.\nIn Leinster, the decrease in the number of holdings not exceeding\none acre, as compared with the decrease of 1847, was 3749; above one\nand not exceeding five, was 4026; of five and not exceeding fifteen,\nwas 2546; of fifteen to thirty, 391; making a total of 10,617. In\nMunster, the decrease in the holdings under thirty acres is stated\nat 18,814; the increase over thirty acres, 1399. In Ulster, the\ndecrease was 1502; the increase, 1134. In Connaught, where the labor\nof extermination was least, the clearance has been most extensive.\nThere in particular the roots of holders of the soil were never\nplanted deep beneath the surface, and consequently were exposed to\nevery exterminator's hand. There were in 1847, 35,634 holders of from\none to five acres. In the following year there were less by 9703;\nthere were 76,707 holders of from five to fifteen acres, less in one\nyear by 12,891; those of from fifteen to thirty acres were reduced\nby 2121; a total depopulation of 26,499 holders of land, exclusive\nof their families, was effected in Connaught in one year.\"--Captain\nLarcom's report for 1848, as quoted in Mitchel's _Last Conquest of\nIreland_, (_Perhaps_.) Dublin, 1861.\n\n[42] The productiveness of the land when properly tilled is _four_\ntimes greater than when under pasture.\n\n\n\n\nTHE ASSOCIATION FOR BEFRIENDING CHILDREN.\n\n\nA new association has entered the field of charitable labor in this\ncity bearing the modest title at the head of this article. It has\nbeen organized and is recommended to the public by ladies whose names\nare a guarantee of its success. The sphere of its charitable work is\namong poor children of degraded parents. It is not known, except to\nthe few practical workers among the poor, that there exists in New\nYork a pauper class nearly if not quite as destitute and degraded\nas that which is found in the great capitals of Europe. There are\npersons here who are born in this lowest social stratum, and will\nnever rise from it without help. Their lives begin, are passed, and\nend in what seems to be hopeless degradation. The portions of the\ncity where this class of its population will be found are those\nbordering on the rivers, on either side, extending as far north as\nFifty-ninth street. Children born in this class inherit the vices and\ndiseases of their parents, as well as their poverty. They exhibit\na precocity in debauchery which no one can appreciate who has not\nbeen brought into contact with them. They inhale with their first\nrespiration a fetid atmosphere. They have an instinct for vice and\ncrime. Many of them escape the penalties of the criminal code simply\nbecause they are so young that the law overlooks them. They come\ninto the world with the child's instinct to look to its parent as\nthe source of authority, and a model for imitation. This authority\nis, for the most part, exerted to compel the commission of offences,\nand the model is a finished example for the grossest sins. With such\ninfluences from without, co\u00f6perating with natural and inherited\ntendencies to vice, it is easy to see with what fearful rapidity the\nchild will be driven along in evil courses. If education begins, as\nis claimed, with the first outcry of the infant, what a training is\ninaugurated here!\n\nThere is another class of our population, not strictly a pauper\nclass, but which is raised but little above it. The persons who\ncompose it earn a scanty living by fitful labor, and are exposed to\nall the temptations which beset extreme poverty. They easily fall\ninto vicious habits, squander their earnings, and their children\nare left without care, to subsist as best they may. These children,\nequally with those of the class still lower, are in need of every\nthing which a judicious charity can supply. The section of the city\nwhere more of these little outcasts, and their wretched parents,\nmay be found than in any other of equal dimensions, is that bounded\nby Bank street on the south, Sixteenth or Seventeenth street on\nthe north, the Ninth avenue and the river. Out of this section St.\nBernard's parish has been carved, and it was here that, a few months\nago, the small beginning was made from which the new organization has\nsprung. On the seventh day of September last, a few ladies met at\nSt. Bernard's church, to open an industrial school for girls. Notice\nthat the school would be commenced on that day had been given in the\nchurch on the Sunday preceding. No children came at the hour named,\nand the ladies, with one of the priests of the parish, went out into\nthe lanes and alleys to compel them to come in. About twenty-five\ngirls were gathered in the large upper room in the church edifice\nduring the forenoon. They presented a pitiful spectacle of extreme\npoverty and degradation. They were clad in filthy rags, and, young\nas they were, the faces of many of them bore traces of a course of\nvice and crime in which sad progress had already been made. It was\nclear from this first day's experiment that there was an instant and\nurgent duty to be performed, in reaching and reclaiming children of\nthis class. The ladies, therefore, resolved to hold the school on\nTuesday and Friday mornings in each week, from ten to twelve o'clock.\nThe large room in the church was placed at their disposal. On the\nsecond school-day, fifty girls attended, and the number soon reached\none hundred. The character and magnitude of the work which these\nladies had, almost unconsciously, undertaken began to dawn on them.\nThe school had filled up with hardly any effort on their part. The\nchildren were in need of every thing. They must be clothed and fed.\nThey must be gently led away from evil practices and taught the very\nalphabet of new and better lives. A few dollars were collected at\nonce and materials for clothing purchased. Garments were cut out, and\nthe children soon taught to assist in making them, and the articles\nwere distributed as they were needed. This has been continued until\nevery child who has attended the school has received a complete\noutfit, including a new pair of shoes. But the girls came hungry\nas well, and must be fed. At the close of the school on each day,\na substantial meal was served; and on Thanksgiving and Christmas\ndays, generous dinners were given to two hundred children, for which\nturkeys in abundance were provided. The first step in any efficient\ncharitable work among the destitute is, of course, to provide for\nphysical wants. We must begin with the body. \"First the natural,\"\nand \"afterward that which is spiritual,\" is the divine order. The\nsoul is to be reached through the body, or rather, so closely united\nare the two, that they are both acted upon by the care bestowed\nupon either. The normal cravings of the body, when unsatisfied,\nbecome diseased and the fruitful source of vicious indulgences. The\nhunger which demands but cannot get proper food, will demand and get\nsustenance hurtful to body and soul. The little child who leaves a\nmiserable shelter in the morning, cold and hungry, will spend the\nfirst penny bestowed in charity by a careless giver at a rum-hole\nmade familiar by errands for liquor at the command of a drunken\nparent, where even a penny will buy what, for the moment, answers for\nboth food and clothing. Little girls of twelve, and even younger,\nhave come to this school in the morning whose only breakfast has\nbeen the liquor which they could buy for a cent, and who had already\ncontracted intemperate habits.\n\nWith children of this class, then, the first step toward moral\nimprovement is the self-respect which they put on with their first\nwarm, clean dress, and the satisfaction which follows a meal of\nwholesome food. This first step, however, leads to the next, direct\nreligious instruction; the \"line upon line and precept upon precept\"\nby which the child's soul is to be instructed and purified.\n\nIt is hardly necessary to say that these children are virtually\nheathen in the midst of a Christian civilization. They have received\nlittle or no religious instruction. They are the offspring of parents\nwho, for the most part, are Catholics in name, but who have long\nsince lost grace and abandoned the sacraments of the church. And yet\nthey readily take religious impressions, and are not without those\nfirst Christian ideas which expand rapidly with patient teaching.\nIt has been the practice at the school to spend a little time each\nmorning in instructing the girls in the catechism; in repeating\nappropriate verses of Scripture, in committing simple hymns to memory\nand singing them in unison. The ladies who opened, and have conducted\nthis school for the past six months, have not been discouraged\nbecause they have not already achieved magnificent results. They\nknew when they began that the salvation of these children, for this\nworld and the next, was to be \"worked out;\" that moral improvement\ncomes by \"little and little;\" that no sincere charitable effort is\never lost; that nothing can be lost but opportunities; and that even\na cup of cold water given to one of these little ones will not fail,\neither of its reward or of its effect for good. So far from being\ndiscouraged, what has already been accomplished with limited means\nand in a casual way has far exceeded their expectations. The work has\nbeen growing under their hands from the start. The little company of\nragged girls, who came reluctantly the first morning, has expanded\ninto a school numbering one hundred and fifty, who are eager for the\ninstruction offered to them. They manifest the utmost affection for\ntheir teachers. They show signs of improvement in every way. Many\nof them give unmistakable evidence of having commenced a new and\nuseful career. One girl who was found wandering in the street on the\nfirst day was asked by one of the ladies if she ever went to mass;\nshe said \"No.\" \"Why not?\" said the lady. She replied with a bold\nstare, \"Oh! I am a _bad_ girl.\" On being told by the lady that she\ndid not believe she was so bad, the girl replied, her eyes filling\nwith tears, \"Well, I _would_ go if I had any thing to wear but these\nrags; but we've been awfully knocked about since father died, and\nmother says we're all going to hell, soul and body.\" This Maggie is\nnow one of the best and brightest in the school, and an efficient\nassistant of the teachers. Others are emulating her example. In fact,\nso much has already been done, that the ladies who commenced are\nirresistibly committed to a more efficient prosecution of the work.\nThey see in it possibilities for good which do not allow them to stop\nshort of the more thorough organization which they have attempted in\nforming \"The Association for Befriending Children.\" They feel that a\nnecessity is laid upon them to make secure the good already attained,\nand that they would be recreant to their duty as Christians if they\ndid not go on to the more perfect results plainly within their\nreach. The necessity of such an organized charity has been shown in\nthe rough outline which has been given above of the destitution of\nthese children. Notwithstanding all the charitable associations for\nchildren, under the names of \"Industrial Schools,\" \"Protectories,\"\n\"Orphan Asylums,\" etc., there are at least twenty thousand children\nin the city outside of any such institution, whose necessities are\neven greater than those within them. In its circular the association\nsays that it\n\n    \"does not intend to relieve parents from their just\n    responsibility for their children, simply because they are\n    poor. The possession of children, and the duty of maintaining\n    them, are conducive among many parents, contending with extreme\n    poverty, to habits of industry and sobriety. But any one\n    who knows even a little of the very degraded portion of our\n    population, is aware that there are multitudes of children in\n    this city utterly abandoned by their parents, and exposed to\n    every form of vice, or rather who are actually being trained,\n    by precept and example, in habits of debauchery. Such children\n    the association desires to bring under the influence of daily\n    instruction, to minister to their daily necessities, to\n    educate them for useful employments.\"\n\nSuch, then, in brief, are the aims of this association.\n\nThe first step toward realizing them has already been taken. Aided\nby the liberality of a few gentlemen, the association has rented the\nbuilding No. 316 West Fourteenth street, which is admirably adapted\nto the purposes of a home for those who may be received as inmates,\nfor a longer or shorter term, combined with a day-school for others.\nThere is room for fifty of these inmates, and for at least three\nhundred more day-scholars. The house is under the charge of a matron\nand assistants in every way fitted to care for, control, and teach\nthe children, who find their highest reward in this opportunity to\nrescue and elevate these little girls. The new and most important\nfeature of this charity is that it combines an asylum, a protectory,\nan industrial school, and common school in one institution. It\nencircles in its arms those who are so low that they are overlooked\nby all other charities. It finds, after all, that \"the ninety and\nnine\" have gone astray, and it seeks to bring them back to the\nfold. It completely removes from evil influences those who are most\nexposed, and shelters and fosters them till new habits are formed,\nand seeds of good are implanted and germinate. It gives to all food\nand clothing. It instructs all in the rudiments of knowledge. It\ngives the girls such industrial instruction as will enable them\nto enter on the various employments which society offers to their\nsex. Such a home-school the association plants in the midst of\nthese utterly necessitous children. There should be one or more of\nthem established in every parish in the city; and if the Christian\nliberality of Catholics be not found wanting, such a result will be\naccomplished. At present the association must be sustained in the\nimmediate attempt which has been made. Responsibilities have been\nassumed which must be met by generous donations. Surely the ladies\nwho are willing to give their best energies to this glorious work,\nas well as their portion of the money needed, will not appeal to the\npublic in vain.\n\n\n\n\nFRA BERNARDINO OCHINO.\n\n\nThe blessed Bernardine, the glory of Sienna and of the Franciscan\norder, had a sad counterpart in him who forms the subject of this\nsketch. Fra Bernardino Ochino, one of the conspicuous scandals of\nthe sixteenth century, was a son of Domenico Tommassino, of Sienna.\nHe received his surname from the Via del Oca, which contained the\nresidence of his obscure parents. Having taken the habit of the\nObservantines, he left his convent to study medicine at Perugia.\nHe there formed a friendship with Giulio de' Medici, afterwards\nClement VII. Returning to his order, he received successive places\nof dignity; but whether dissatisfied with these, or really seeking a\nmore perfect life, he again left it to embrace the austere rule of\nthe Capuchins, then for the first time established in Sienna. Few\ndetails remain of this portion of the life of Ochino, and historians\ndiffer in explaining the motives of this change. Whatever they might\nhave been, it is certain that his fame as a preacher was acquired\nshortly after his entrance in the Capuchin order. His reputation\ngrew daily. The most exacting critics gave him unqualified praise.\nSadoletus ranked him with the greatest orators of antiquity. The\nBishop of Fossombrone addressed him the most flattering sonnets, and\nCharles V. was heard to exclaim that the spirit and unction of Fra\nBernardino could melt the very stones. The over-fastidious Bembo had\nsaid of the preachers of his day, \"Why should I go to listen to their\nsermons? One hears nothing but the subtle doctor disputing with the\nangelic, and, finally, Aristotle called in to settle the question.\"\n\nNevertheless, Ochino stood even the test of Bembo's criticism. For\nthe latter wrote from Venice to the Marquis of Pescara, April 23d,\n1536:\n\n    \"I send inclosed to your illustrious lordship the letters\n    of our reverend Fra Bernardino, whom I have heard with\n    inexpressible pleasure during the too short period of this\n    Lent.\"\n\nTo the parish priest he wrote:\n\n    \"Do not neglect to force Fra Bernardino to eat meat. For,\n    unless he suspend his Lenten abstinence, he cannot resist the\n    fatigue of preaching.\"\n\nThis last remark of Bembo reveals to us something of Ochino's way of\nlife at that time. He had, indeed, adopted those severe austerities\nwhich, according to the unanimous doctrine of the saints, though\noften the means of advancement in the supernatural life, yet, when\nundertaken or persevered in from an ill-advised spirit, generally\nlead to ruin, and become at once food and clothing for the most\ndiabolical pride. The famous preacher travelled always on foot,\nbare-headed and unshod. He slept at night beneath the trees that\ngrew on the wayside, or, if under the roof of some noble host, on\nthe pavement of the guest's chamber. As he begged from door to door,\nin the crowded cities, the throng knelt, awed by his wan features\nand fiery eye, and the thin emaciated frame, which seemed barely\nto support the coarse brown habit of his order. At the tables of\nthe nobility he did not vary the least detail of his penitential\nabstinence, eating from only one dish, and never even tasting wine.\n\nWhen he preached, says a contemporary, the churches could not contain\nhis hearers, and a great crowd followed him wherever he went. Nor was\nhis preaching without fruit. The infamous Aretino either underwent\nor feigned a conversion, and wrote to the pope, at the instance of\nOchino, begging pardon for his libels against the papal court. In the\nsame letter, dated from Venice, April 21st, 1537, he says that Bembo\n\"has sent a thousand souls to paradise by transferring from Sienna\nto this Catholic city Fra Bernardino, a religious as humble as he is\nvirtuous.\"\n\nWhile at Venice, Ochino procured a convent and installed there a\ncommunity of Capuchins. In June, 1539, by invitation of the municipal\nassembly, he preached at Sienna. This he did again in the following\nyear, with great success and fruit. It was on this occasion that he\nintroduced the devotion of the Quarant' Ore. It appears, however,\nthat instead of the blessed sacrament, the usual object of this\ndevotion, Fra Bernardino exposed for veneration the crucifix. In\na letter to the confraternity of St. Dominic, preparatory to the\nintroduction of this pious practice, he writes:\n\n    \"You are asked in charity to join with many others in\n    accomplishing two very pious and holy works--the first of\n    which consists in inviting and encouraging one another, with\n    a holy love, to do penance with a true contrition, a sincere\n    confession, and entire satisfaction, joining spiritual and\n    corporal alms with fasts strictly kept and holy prayer, in\n    order to meditate on the transformation of the soul in Christ,\n    her well beloved; and, humbly prostrate at his sacred feet, to\n    expose to him our particular spiritual wants and those of all\n    our brethren, encouraging and aiding our soul, by good will,\n    to clothe herself with those divine virtues, faith, hope, and\n    charity.\"\n\nThe remainder of the letter sets forth in detail the arrangements for\ncarrying out the public ceremonies of the Quarant Ore, all breathing\nthe fragrance of Catholic piety. Yet it is more than probable that\nthe first plague-spots had already become visible in his character.\nBoverio, the Capuchin annalist, still praises him, thus sketches this\nportion of our history, and says that Fra Bernardino was\n\n    \"endowed with sagacity, good manners, and practical skill in\n    management gained by a long and varied experience, gifted with\n    a penetration and generosity of soul fit for the greatest\n    enterprises, of an exterior so modest and retiring that every\n    one recognized in him a rare stamp of virtue and sanctity; an\n    admirable preacher, whose eloquence won souls, so that, by\n    unanimous approval, in the third chapter of the entire order,\n    he was elected general, in 1538. He governed the order with\n    such good sense, prudence, and zeal for the observance of the\n    rules, himself giving an example of every virtue, that his\n    brethren applauded the choice of such a man. He visited all the\n    convents, nearly always on foot. His exhortations to poverty,\n    to observance of the rule, and other virtues were made with\n    such admirable eloquence that the reputation which he had\n    acquired both at home and abroad could not but increase; he\n    enjoyed such great confidence with kings and princes that they\n    employed him in the most difficult undertakings; the pope held\n    him in the highest esteem; so much so, that it was necessary to\n    have recourse to the pope in order to obtain him for preacher;\n    the largest churches did not suffice to hold the throng of his\n    hearers, so that temporary porticoes had to be erected, many\n    even raising the tiles of the roof and climbing into the church\n    to hear him. While preaching at Perugia, in 1540, he settled\n    the most angry feuds. At Naples, having recommended from the\n    pulpit some pious work, the alms collected amounted to five\n    thousand sequins.\"\n\nTo this we may add that when three years, his term of office, had\nexpired, Fra Bernardino was re\u00eblected. Yet, despite all this fair\nappearance, things had not gone well in his heart. His passions,\nrestrained from sensual outbreaks and left more free in other things,\ndeveloped pride, and confidence in his own judgment, to the contempt\nof others. The desire of gaining souls yielded slowly and almost\nimperceptibly to the ambition of the orator. Moreover, he drew\nfrom the works of Luther that fatal tendency to find in Holy Writ\na response to the dictates of private passion and prejudice. It is\nsaid that, while preaching at Naples, in the church of San Giovanni\nMaggiore, he had been incited by Valdes to insult Paul III., because\nthe holy father had not decorated him with the purple. Certain it\nseems to be, that Valdes was intimately associated with the friar,\nand helped to fill his heart with ambition and his head with the\ndoctrines of the Swiss and German heretics. The viceroy, Pedro de\nToledo, being informed that he was teaching the Lutheran novelties,\ncomplained to the ecclesiastical authorities; but Ochino either\nfairly stood the test of inquiry, or concealed his real opinions\nunder astute forms of speech. The latter is probably the case; for\nthe Dominican Caracciolo, in his MS. life of Paul IV., says,\n\n    \"Since he\"--Ochino--\"concealed within himself the venom of his\n    doctrines under the appearance of an austere life, (a fair\n    cloak,) and because he pretended to thunder against vice, the\n    number of persons was small who could detect the cunning of the\n    fox. Nevertheless there were some who discovered it; and among\n    the first, as I have learned from my elders, could be cited our\n    venerable fathers Don Gaetano and Don Giovanni; but they saw it\n    more clearly in 1539, when Ochino, preaching in the pulpit of\n    the cathedral, uttered many propositions against purgatory,\n    indulgences, and the ecclesiastical laws about fasting, etc.;\n    and, what is worse, the impious monk was accustomed to present\n    as an interrogation that which St. Augustine has said in a\n    simply negative form, as in the following passage: _Qui fecit\n    te sine te, non salvabit te sine te?_--thus giving his audience\n    to understand that faith alone suffices, and that God saves us\n    without any good works on our part to co\u00f6perate with his; just\n    the contrary of that which St. Augustine really teaches.\"\n\nCaracciolo further narrates that systematic means were secretly taken\nto spread these doctrines of Ochino, and that clandestine meetings\nof those infected contributed to this end. Yet Fra Bernardino still\nkept his fair fame, and maintained perfectly his Catholic exterior;\nfor the ensuing year witnessed the public devotions at Sienna to\nwhich we have before alluded. It was at Venice, in 1541, that he was\nfor a time suspended from preaching. This was not due to any plain\nand palpable errors of doctrine. For, although accusations against\nhim had been made by several persons, he had in a private interview\nrelieved the nuncio's present suspicions, if not his forebodings of\nthe future. The temporary prohibition to preach was caused by the\ndistrust of the nuncio, which was greatly aggravated by an allusion\non the part of Ochino to the arrest of Giulio Terenziano. The latter\nwas a theologian of Milan, an avowed and contumacious preacher of\nheresy, whom the nuncio had silenced in the previous year. From the\npulpit Ochino appealed to the Venetians against such an exercise of\nauthority. He placed himself on the same footing with Terenziano, and\ncried, \"What have we done, O Venetians? What plots have we arranged\nagainst you? O Bride and Queen of the Sea! if you cast into prison,\nif you send to the gallows, those who announce the truth to you, how\nshall that truth prevail?\" Nevertheless, in three days the nuncio\nrestored to him his faculties, owing to the pressure brought to bear\nby the friends and admirers of the monk.\n\nAfter the close of Lent in 1542, Ochino gathered at Verona many of\nthe Capuchins of the Venetian province, and taught them his errors\nwith all that subtlety of argument and eloquence of persuasion which\nseems to have characterized both his private and public speaking.[43]\nHe had now passed the zenith of his career and was fairly started on\nhis downward course. The luxury which he had ordered Fra Angelo to\nuse in rebuilding the convent at Sienna, was so openly against the\nletter and spirit of his rule that many devout persons looked for his\nspeedy punishment. St. Cajetan Tiene had prevented him from preaching\nat Rome. Among the number of those greatly alarmed for his safety was\nAngela Negri de Gallarate, a friend of the Marquis del Vasto, the\nlatter at this time an intimate friend and private correspondent of\nOchino. This excellent lady, after hearing Fra Bernardino at Verona,\nwhere he commented on the epistles of St. Paul, predicted that he\nwould fall into heresy. It soon became only too manifest. His disgust\nfor prayer, his absence from the choir, his weariness in assisting\nat the sacred mysteries shocked his brethren, so long edified by his\npious bearing and assiduity in these good works. Among others, Fra\nAgustino, of Sienna, gently reproved him, saying, \"When you go to\nadminister the sacrament without prayer, you remind me of a rider\nsetting forth without stirrups; take care that you do not fall.\" Fra\nBernardino, whose soul was withering for want of that celestial dew\nwhich falls only in the calm evening stillness of prayer, all worn\nand jaded as he was with earthly labors, and, alas! success, could\nonly answer, that he did not cease praying who kept on doing good.\n\nHe was now engrossed with secular things, giving counsel in the\naffairs of princes; and so completely was his time occupied, that he\nrequested the holy father to be relieved from the daily recitation\nof the divine office. At this same period he entered into friendly\nrelations with the heretics, and eagerly read all their works.\n\nThe pope still had hopes of holding him back, invited him to Rome,\nand even dreamed of giving him the purple. This brought affairs to\na crisis. Before accepting or rejecting the invitation, Ochino took\ncouncil with his friends. Giberti, the holy Bishop of Verona, sent\nhim to consult Cardinal Contarini, at Bologna. The latter was too\nill to hold a long conversation, and Ochino left him immediately to\nseek Peter Martyr Vermigli, at Florence. This visit to Peter Martyr,\nwho, already rotten to the core, was shortly to fall, convinced the\nCapuchin that his doctrines could not stand the censorship of Rome,\nand that, if he went there, he must be prepared to renounce them.\nThis conviction and the urgent advice of Peter Martyr decided him to\nleave Italy immediately. On the 22d of August, 1542, he writes to the\nMarquis of Pescara, detailing his anxieties and the causes of his\nflight.\n\n    \"I have learned,\" he writes, \"that Farnese says I have been\n    summoned to Rome for having preached heresy and scandalous\n    things. The Theatine Puccio, and others whom I do not wish to\n    name, have spoken so as to cause people to think that, if I had\n    crucified Christ, they could not have made more noise about it.\"\n\nFurther on he shows consciousness of the sensation he is creating.\n\"These men,\" he says, \"tremble before a poor monk.\"\n\nFlight being determined upon, he took refuge, first, with Catharine\nCibo, Duchess of Camerino. Thence he fled to Ferrara.\n\nHere he received letters of introduction to the principal heretics\nof Geneva. On his way across the Apennines he had taken with him Fra\nMariano, a saintly lay-brother, of whose dove-like tenderness and\nsimplicity sweet anecdotes are told, recalling the early memories\nof Assisi. Mariano, under the impression that they were going to\npreach to the heretics, agreed to lay aside the religious habit; but,\non learning the fraud which Ochino had practised on him, sought to\nrecall his unfortunate superior. The haughty orator was proof to the\ntears and entreaties of his humble brother, and the latter finally\nturned back alone, carrying the seal of the order, which the apostate\nhad kept to the last.\n\nArrived at Geneva, Ochino was welcomed by the heretics as a great\naccession.\n\nCalvin wrote to Melancthon, \"We have here Fra Bernardino, the famous\norator, whose departure has stirred Italy as it has never been\nmoved before.\" Prayers for him, indeed, were offered throughout\nItaly. Among the Capuchins--who, it is said, came near being\nsuppressed--great pains were taken to eradicate the evil germs\nsown by Ochino; and Fra Francesco, vicar of Milan, renouncing his\nheresies, expiated them by a severe penance. Cardinal Caraffa, who,\na few years later became Paul IV., publicly lamented the apostasy of\nOchino in most eloquent terms, contrasting the austere Capuchin with\nthe unfrocked preacher, and calling on the erring son to return to\nhis mother. He promised in this case, moreover, kind treatment from\nthe pope, who had always shown great favor to Ochino.\n\nIn a letter from Geneva, in April, 1543, the apostate sought to\njustify his career and to explain his later course of action.\nThis letter, addressed to Muzio, begins with that allusion to\nyouthful enthusiasm, which has since become the threadbare apology\nof those who fling away the cowl. He describes his life among the\nObservantines in the words of the apostle, \"I made great progress\nin the Jews' religion, above many of my equals in my own nation,\nbeing more zealous for the traditions of my fathers.\" (Galat. i.\n14.) But very soon he was enlightened by the Lord to the following\neffect: \"That it is Christ who has satisfied for the sins of his\nelect, and has merited for them paradise, and that he alone is their\njustification; that the vows pronounced in the religious orders are\nnot only invalid but impious; and that the Roman Church, although of\nan exterior splendid to carnal eyes, is none the less an abomination\nin the sight of God.\" This, he would have us believe, took place\nbefore his entering the Capuchin order. This doctrine of the vanity\nof good works, of the sinfulness of monastic vows, his excuse for\nabandoning both, was rooted in his mind during those years of\nrugged asceticism, while he still preached prayer and penance, as\nwe have seen at Sienna! A liar or a hypocrite? Perhaps neither. For\nthe remainder of the letter is full of that fanatical declamation\nagainst Antichrist and the harlot of Babylon, and all that railing\ncant in which weak brains and over-excited imaginations have, ever\nsince, found expression and relief. The magistrates of Sienna also\nreceived a pointed letter, in which Ochino set forth his doctrine on\njustification. The letter is in very much the same style as that to\nMuzio.\n\nPoor, despised Carlstadt, when he saw his hopeful pupil upset (as he\nthen supposed) the pope and cast the church to the winds, thought\nthat surely Luther would not assume to himself infallible authority\nand supreme jurisdiction. In this he was mistaken, as he found to\nhis cost. For men who aid in rebellion against lawful authority\ntoo often find themselves a prey to usurpers; and the Bible, torn\nfrom the anointed hands of its only rightful interpreter, became\nsimply a slave; its sacred text an exordium for every fanatic and an\naccomplice to every scoundrel. The position which Ochino took was the\nsame as that of all other heresiarchs, from him whom St. Polycarp\naddressed as \"the first born of Satan,\" down to the very latest. He\nconstantly applied to himself the language which only one apostle\ndared to use. Although he did not profess to have seen the third\nheaven, yet he did profess to be thoroughly competent to teach and\ndetermine the Christian revelation. Under these circumstances, it is\nnot strange that he soon found himself in bad odor at Geneva, where\nan authority, equally respectable, and likewise acknowledging the\nright of private examination, nevertheless burned alive poor wretches\nwho were so unfortunate as not to agree with it. After founding the\nItalian Church at Geneva, and there publishing several works, so\noutrageous in their character as to draw condemnation even from some\nProtestant historians, Ochino became embroiled with the Calvinists.\nThe natural result of these quarrels was his excommunication and\nbanishment by the latter. He fled with a woman to whom he had been\nsacrilegiously married. At Basle, he published his sermons. Thence he\nwas called to preach at Augsburg, where he enjoyed great popularity\nand a salary, until the invasion of Charles V. compelled him to\nflee with Stancari of Mantua. Having met, at Strasburg, his old\nfriend, Peter Martyr, who, meanwhile, had openly apostatized, he\njourneyed with him to England, and there preached to the Italian\nrefugees. On the death of Edward VI., he returned to Switzerland,\nand was chosen pastor of the exiles of Locarno, who had obtained\nfrom the Senate the use of a church and their native language. But\nas at Geneva, so at Zurich, the right of private judgment involved\nnot merely the right to believe as one might list, but also the\nright, if one were able, to force every body else to believe in\nlike manner. Ochino was accused of anti-trinitarianism and also of\nsanctioning polygamy, and obliged to swear that he would live and\ndie in the faith of--what? who? The Catholic Church, whose demand on\nthe human intellect is at once a command to believe and a reason for\nbelieving, backed by the pledged word of Jesus Christ? No! Ochino had\nrejected her authority. He now swore to live and die in the teaching\nof Zwinglius. This oath, however, seemed to lose its force in a few\ndays. For he shortly attacked what he had sworn to defend, and, in\nhis _Laberinto_, denied almost every article of the Christian faith.\nBanished from Switzerland, he fled, in the dead of winter, with his\nfour children, into Poland, where he soon afterward earned universal\ncontempt, by publicly countenancing King Sigismund in a projected\nbigamy. Bullinger, whom Ochino had called the \"pope of Zurich,\" says\nof him, \"He is far advanced in the science of perdition, and an\nungrateful wretch toward the senate and the ministers, full of malice\nand impiety.\" Beza also characterizes him as \"_Bernardinum Ochinum,\nmonachum magni nominis apud Italos, et auctorem ordinis Capucinorum,\nqui in fine se ostendit esse iniquum hypocritam_. Bernardino Ochino,\na monk of great name among the Italians, founder of the Capuchins,\"\n(this a mistake,) \"who finally showed himself to be a wicked\nhypocrite.\"\n\nFrom these words of Beza, Boverio has sought to infer that the\napostate finally repented and was restored to the Catholic communion.\nHe has also introduced testimony to prove that Ochino was poniarded\nat Geneva, after professing the Catholic faith and confessing to\na priest. But historians seem to favor the tradition recorded by\nGraziani, who says, \"_Ochinus Polonia excessit, ac omnibus extorris\nac profugus, cum in vili Moravi\u00e6 pago a vetere amico hospitio esset\nacceptus ibi senio fessus cum uxore ac duabus filiabus, filioque una\npeste interiit_. Ochino died in Poland a universal outcast, after\nhaving accepted the hospitality of an old friend, in an obscure\nvillage of Moravia. Here, worn out with age, he perished, together\nwith his wife, two daughters and son, in one pestilence.\"\n\nTo rehearse the various opinions of Ochino would be a difficult\nand thankless task. Like most of the reformers, he taught the\ntotal depravity of human nature and human reason, and, in order to\nestablish the motives of faith, appealed to private illumination,\nassuming for the disciple what he denied to the teacher.\n\nBesides this miserable travesty of the Christian distinction between\nthe natural and supernatural orders, there is in his doctrine\nscarcely one point of resemblance to the Catholic faith. Having cast\naway the ballast that had steadied his earlier years, the power which\nhad carried him on such a brilliant course proved his ruin. His\nignominious death did not excite enough pity to cause itself to be\nremembered. He disappeared a lonely and abandoned wreck.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[43] Among those who yielded to his fatal and seductive influence\nwas Fra Bartolomeo Coni, guardian of the monastery of Verona, who\nafterward became a heretic.\n\n\n\n\nOLD BOOKS.\n\n\nI.\n\nLet the world run after new books; commend me to the enduring\nfascination of old ones--not old only in authorship, but old in\nimprint, in form and comeliness, or perhaps _un_comeliness!\n\nWhat value is there in gilded edges and Turkey leather, which must\nbe handled so gingerly, compared with the sturdy calfskin, ribbed\nand bevelled, which has outlived generations of human calves? and\nwhat is tinted hot-press to the page grown yellow in the atmosphere\nof centuries? The quaintly spelt word, the ornamented initial\nwhich begins each chapter, and the more elaborate ornamentation of\ndedication and title-page--all so poor now as works of art, yet in\ntheir day masterpieces of handicraft--there is a spell in them! till\nfrom that olden time\n\n           ... \"a thousand fantasies,\n    Begin to throng into my memory.\"\n\n                                                    _Comus._\n\nA heavy quarto lies here bearing impress on its exterior, _Workes of\nLvcivs Ann\u00e6vs Seneca. Both Morall and Naturall. Translated by Thomas\nLodge, D. of Physicke_; and within is a long Latin dedication to the\n_Illvstrissimo D. Thom\u00e6 Egertono, Domino de Ellismere, etc., etc.\nLondon, 1614_.\n\nNot so very old either; but within that time what changes have\npassed over the world! How often has ambition or popular discontent,\nor perchance honest resistance, revolutionized nations, and swept\naway the boundaries of kingdoms! How often some power, seemingly\ninadequate to the effect, has changed the currents of human thought,\nand exalted or degraded not only individuals, but aggregate masses\nof humanity, as effectively as the earthquake convulses, and then\ndepresses or upheaves the visible surface on which they dwell!\n\nWhat changes also in the especial surroundings of this individual\nvolume! What improvements in the petty affairs of domestic life,\nthe little arrangements of the household; in the union of science\nand mechanical art to produce necessaries and superfluities;\nin refinements of sentiment and manners; in a better relation\nbetween rulers and the ruled; and, to sum up all, in a more just\nappreciation by each individual of what he owes to himself and to his\nfellow-creatures!\n\nAll through the wide extent of this past time history and legends\nstretch back their ramifications, like paths through some vast\nextended landscape. In some places clear and well defined, and easily\nfollowed; again, leading through tangle and uncertainty, and at more\nthan one point brought to an abrupt termination, beyond which all\nvestige of a way is lost. We tread here in thought a space of time\nwhich has been passed over by millions and millions--that countless\nthrong of the nameless whose steps have left no foot-print--and where\nto a few only has been accorded the privilege of marking, by deed\nor word, the spot whereon they stood. It is the buried city of the\nimmaterial world--where is uncovered to us noble deeds, and lofty\naspirations, and holy purposes; and in darker spots are wrecks of\nhopes, and hearts, and immortal souls, to which all the wealth gone\ndown in ocean counts as nothing.\n\nTo retrace again and again these paths, so often indistinct and so\noften awakening an interest they fail to gratify; to remove with\npatient toil here the doubt and there the untruth which encumber\nthem, and anon to clear away some obstacle and open to sight a\nnew vista, has been at all periods the occupation and the richest\nintellectual enjoyment of some of the most gifted minds, who accepted\ntheir ample reward in the simple success of their labors. Even the\nmore humble wanderer through the mazy labyrinth, whose limited scope\nit is only to gaze and wonder, finds a charm in such investigations\nwidely different from any other mental pursuit. It is the charm of\na common humanity--the recognition and acknowledgment of a chain,\ninvisible and intangible, and in a measure undefinable, but too\nstrong ever to be broken, which unites each to the other the whole\nhuman family. It is not religion--neither philosophy; for in many a\nland, despite the barbarous precepts of a so-called religion, and\nwhere philosophy was never heard of, it vibrates in the savage heart\nto the necessities of the stranger. Its first link is riveted in our\ncommon origin; and its mysterious existence widely and wisely asserts\nitself in the interest with which, for human creatures, is ever\ninvested the affairs of human kind.\n\nFurthermore, it is this great social bond which attracts us to the\npersonages of fiction, and always precisely in proportion as they\nassimilate to real life; and since even the most successful creations\nof fancy can hardly fail to fall short, in some point, of realities,\nso truth itself, properly presented, will always possess attractions\nbeyond any fiction.\n\nBut it is not in battle-fields and conquests, nor yet in the\nimpassioned eloquence or astute wisdom of senates and council\nchambers, that we hold closest communion with the buried of long\nago; it is in that homely every-day life which we are ourselves\nliving; in the little pleasures, regrets, and loves; in the\nannoyances, successes, and failures; in the very mistakes and\nimprudences which made up the _ego ipse_ so like our own that we\nfind companionship. How they return to life again in all these\nthings! and we enter into their most private chambers--the doors\nare all open now--and read their most private thoughts. We know\nthem better than did their contemporaries; and they suffer a wrong\nsometimes in this ruthless unveiling which our heart resents. Now,\nit is proper that truth should ultimately, even on earth, prevail;\nand that the traitorous soldier and unscrupulous courtier, after\nhaving lived their lives out in ill-gotten wealth and undeserved\nhonor, should wear in history their true colors; that even a woman's\nmisdeeds, when they touch public interest, should be brought to meet\na public verdict; but then these little private endurances--the\nlife-long struggle with poverty here, the unavailing concessions to\nunreasonable tyranny by home and hearth there, the martyrdom of life,\nas it may be called, which they so carefully guarded from sight--how\nit is all paraded now to the world, and passed from book to book!\n\nAnd yet it takes all this to make up the entire truthful portrait.\nIndeed, so very far does it go to modify our opinions of them, that\nthe judgments formed without it must be oftentimes very erroneous.\n\n\nII.\n\nHad our old book but a tongue, what tales it might tell of the life\nafter life which has passed before it!\n\nSince the date of its printing, 1614, twelve sovereigns have worn\nthe English crown; for in that year James I. was upon the throne of\nhis mother's enemy. Eleven years before, when a messenger was sent\nto him in Scotland with an announcement of the death of Elizabeth\nand his own accession, the tidings found him so poor that he was\nobliged to apply to the English secretary, Cecil, for money to pay\nhis expenses to London. His wants multiplied rapidly. From his\nfirst stopping-place he sent a courier forward to demand the crown\njewels for his wife; and a little further on another messenger\nwas dispatched for coaches, horses, litters, and, \"above all, a\nchamberlain much needed.\"\n\nThis journey of James was a very unique affair. Honors were scattered\nso lavishingly that knighthood was to be had for the asking; and a\nlittle pasquinade appeared in print, advertising itself--_A Help to\nMemorie in learning Names of English Nobility_.\n\n    \"At Newark-upon-Trent (says Stow) was taken a cut-purse, a\n    pilfering thief all gentleman outside, with good stores of\n    gold about him, who confessed he had followed the court from\n    Berwick; and the king, hearing of this gallant, did direct a\n    warrant to have him hanged immediately.\"[44]\n\nAnd so began at the very outset the spirit which said afterward,\n\"Do I make the lords? Do I make the bishops? Then God's grace--I\nmake what likes me of law and gospel!\" So outspoke the king; who\nis described by those who went to meet him as \"ill-favored in\nappearance, slovenly, dirty, and wearing always a wadded dagger-proof\ndoublet.\"\n\nThese eleven years of his reign had been fruitful in troubles of all\nkinds. The death of his son Henry, and the alleged, but never proven\nschemes of Lady Arabella Stuart to gain the throne, made a portion\nof them; and all were aggravated by that spectre, conjured up by his\nreckless extravagance, and which haunted him to the last moment of\nhis life--an empty purse. When his daughter Elizabeth was married to\nthe Palatine of Bohemia, the fireworks alone of London cost seven\nthousand pounds; and when my Lord Hargrave accompanied the bride to\nthe Rhine and brought back a bill of thirty thousand pounds, the\nking, having neither gold nor silver to pay with, gave him a grant\n_to coin base farthings in brass_.\n\nKing James, in a book which he wrote on _Sports_, advocates all\nactive exercises, and one of his own greatest pleasures had always\nbeen hunting. When so engaged, every thing else was forgotten,\nand hence arose a grievance by no means trifling to his English\nsubjects--he and his courtiers, his companions in the chase, not\nunfrequently quartered themselves in some district where game\nabounded, until the provisions of the locality were absolutely\nexhausted. There is a story told of him that, while hunting at\nRoyston, his favorite hound Jowler was missed one day, and the next\nhe reappeared with a paper fastened on his neck, upon which was\nwritten--\n\n    \"Good Mister Jowler, I pray you speak to the king, for he hears\n    you every day, (and he doth not so us,) that it will please his\n    majesty to go back to London, for all our provision is spent.\"\n    ... \"however, (says the courtier,) from Royston he means to go\n    to New-Market, and from thence to Thetford.\"[45]\n\nHow much further he might have been led to hunt, is unknown; for\nthere Lord Hay, who loved hounds, and horns also, promised no more to\nimportune his majesty, and his more sedate counsellors succeeded in\ngetting him back to business. In the mean time, in the more weighty\nmatters of politics and religion, where the ambitious nobles of\ntwo countries intrigued and plotted for power over a monarch easily\nimposed upon, discord and contention reigned, until in 1614 they seem\nto have reached their height.\n\nAnd so stood the world, old book! into which thou wert launched. Guy\nFawkes and his crew had been swept from the earth; but in the Tower\nof London this year lay a more noble company, accused of the same\ncrime--treason. There was Earl Grey, and Lord Cobham, and Sir Walter\nRaleigh, besides some others. These three had been tried, convicted,\nsentenced to die, and taken to the scaffold; and at the last moment\nreprieved and committed to the Tower. At the last moment it was, and\nit came near being a minute too late; for James wrote his order in\nsuch haste that he forgot to sign it, and the messenger was called\nback; then when this one man on horseback reached the place of\nexecution, the great crowd gathered there prevented his being seen\nor heard for a long time, and the axe was just ready for the fatal\nstroke. On what a chance hung three lives! But what availed their\nadded years? Earl Grey is dying now in that Tower; and Lord Cobham,\nnever very strong in intellect, has grown weaker still in captivity;\nand so, after a little time, he is suffered to wander out; and he\ngoes to a miserable hovel in the Minories, and climbs a ladder to a\nloft, and lies down on straw--to die of very destitution.\n\nThree years hence King James will want money even more than he does\nnow; and he will call Sir Walter Raleigh from his cell, and place\nhim at the head of a fleet; for Sir Walter--who has been to the\nnew world in years long gone by--insinuates that _there_ gold is\nto be had for the digging. He fails to get it, though; and on his\nreturn to England, he is seized, and, with only the shadow of a just\ntrial, executed; partly on the old sentence, but more to please the\nSpaniards, whom he came in conflict with abroad.\n\nAnother life is this year pining itself away in that Tower--the Lady\nArabella Stuart; a woman descended from royalty, Henry VII., in the\nsame degree as King James himself, and therefore to be feared. Many\nyears ago charges of conspiracy against the government were brought\nagainst her, and she was placed in confinement. She contrived to\nescape, and with her husband, Lord Seymour, attempted to reach\nFrance. By some mischance they were separated in their flight; he\nreached the coast of Flanders in safety, but the little vessel in\nwhich she had embarked was pursued, overtaken, and the unhappy\nfugitive compelled to return. Love and hope bore her up bravely for a\ntime; but she is sinking at last, and it is recorded that September\n27th, 1615, she died there.\n\nHigh above all this misery merry notes were heard; for in 1614, was\na grand marriage and banqueting such as London had not seen--no, not\neven at the bridal of the king's own daughter. The story is sadder\nthan any fiction, a \"sad o'er true tale\"--as follows:\n\nSome years before this, the Lady Frances Howard, daughter of the Earl\nof Suffolk, beautiful and accomplished, though still a mere child\nof thirteen years, was married to the Earl of Essex, a few years\nolder. The ceremony was merely to secure the alliance; for the young\ncountess returned to her home and her embroidery, and the earl to\nthe university. Four years after, he went to claim the bride whose\nimage had doubtless oftentimes stolen between him and his books; \"but\n(says the chronicle) his joy was overcast: he found her cold and\ncontemptuous, and altogether averse to him.\"\n\nA change had come over the lady. She had met her evil genius in the\nunprincipled favorite of King James, the Lord Rochester, who on his\nside was vain of his conquest. At this point Lady Frances is an\nobject of pity; for she was the victim of a usage of courts which\nmakes and mars the most solemn of all contracts without the least\nregard to individual bias; a usage which is responsible for some of\nthe blackest crimes of history; but, O woman! from thy first steps\ndownward how rapid is the descent; wandering thoughts, folly--crime!\nSuch was the story of Lady Frances. Pity changes to horror at her\nsubsequent career, and the unscrupulous vindictiveness which she\ndisplayed toward all those who strove to arrest her course. Most\nconspicuous among such was Sir Thomas Overbury, the bosom friend of\nLord Rochester himself. He had more than once aided their meetings,\nand--so said gossip--had even penned the epistles which won her;\nbut he became alarmed at the length to which their ventures were\ncarried; and when the next step proposed was a divorce from the Earl\nEssex, he gave Rochester much good advice and solemn warning that\nhe withdrew his aid in future. This was reported to the countess,\nand his doom was sealed. She failed in several attempts to involve\nhim in individual disputes, whereby, as she hoped, a duel might\nhave closed his life; she failed in having him sent in a public\ncapacity abroad; she succeeded, however, in having him implicated in\ndisloyalty and committed to the Tower, when shortly after he suddenly\ndied. A divorce was now sought on some trifling pretext; and as no\nremonstrance was offered by Earl Essex, it was soon obtained; and in\norder that she might not lose rank, King James created Rochester Earl\nof Somerset.\n\nAnd now, with nothing to mar their felicities, London was ablaze\nwith bonfires over their marriage celebration.\n\n    \"The glorious days were seconded by as glorious nights, when\n    masques and dances had a continual motion; the king affecting\n    such high-flying festivities and banqueting as might wrap\n    up his spirit and keep it from earthly things.... Upon the\n    Wednesday following was another grand masque, got up by the\n    gentlemen of Prince Charles's household; and this so far\n    surpassed the other, that the king caused it to be acted again.\n    Then, January 4th, the bride and bridegroom with a crowd of\n    nobles were invited to a treat in the city, where my lord mayor\n    and aldermen entertained them in scarlet gowns. After supper\n    was a wassail, a play, and a dance.... At three in the morning,\n    they returned to Whitehall. On Twelfth-day the gentlemen of\n    Grey's Inn invited the bride and bridegroom to masque.\" (Roger\n    Coke.)\n\nA brilliant triumph, soon to meet with a dark reverse. Scarcely a\nyear had passed, when a new candidate for the king's favor appeared\nin Villiers, afterward created Duke of Buckingham; and the weak\nmonarch, readily attracted by a new face, was very soon anxious to\nrid himself of Somerset. Enemies of the still beautiful countess were\nnot slow to avail themselves of the royal mood; nor was it difficult\nto find in her questionable career a pretext for suspicion. With\nconsent of the king, they were conjointly accused of having caused\nthe death of Sir Thomas Overbury by poison, and sent to the Tower. It\nis recorded that Earl Somerset was hunting with the king at Royston,\nand actually sitting beside him when the warrant was served; and when\nhe appealed to his royal master to forbid the indignity, King James\nonly answered,\n\n\"An' ye _must_ go, mon; for if Coke sent for _me_, I must go.\"\n\nAfter the examination of some three hundred witnesses, Sir Edward\nCoke reported that the countess had used unlawful arts to separate\nherself from Earl Essex, and to win the love of Rochester, and that\nthey had together plotted the death of Sir Thomas Overbury. Some\nof the inferior actors in the tragedy were condemned and executed;\namong them Mrs. Turner, who had in former years been governess to\nthe countess, and who had once persuaded her to consult a wizard\nor fortune-teller--from whence came the charge of \"unlawful arts.\"\nThe unhappy principals were repeatedly questioned, and exhorted\nto confess; but with no avail. The countess at times made some\nadmissions, but none which implicated the earl or seriously\nconvicted herself; and we are fain to believe they arose rather\nfrom her unmitigated misery, and the harassing importunities of her\njudges, than from conscious guilt. They were at length restored to\nliberty--at least to the liberty of banishment from court; liberty to\nreturn to their country-seat and remain there; and there, a writer of\nthat day tells us, \"they lived in the same house many years without\nexchanging a word with each other.\"\n\nKing James seems to have devoted no small portion of his time to\nadvancing the interests of Cupid--if love it could be called, where\nlove there was none. Sir Edward Coke had himself an only daughter,\nwhom the king assigned to Viscount Purbeck, brother of the Duke of\nBuckingham. The wife of Coke, Lady Hatton, was a very Xantippe; and\nthe eloquence of the great jurist, which could sway multitudes, and\ncheck or change the course of political events, was totally powerless\nwithin the walls of his own castle. Lady Hatton wisely opposed this\nmatch, to which her daughter was averse; but in this case the king\nas well as Sir Edward had decided, and for once she was obliged to\nyield; \"the king doing the matter (says an old writer) as if the\nsafety of the nation depended on its completion.\" Lady Hatton had\none retaliation within her reach, and she took it; she gave orders\nthat at the wedding \"neither Sir Edward Coke nor any of his servants\nbe admitted.\"[46]\n\nHow fared at last the hapless Lady Purbeck, the heiress of thousands\nand thousands? She had the misery to see the husband _not_ of her\nchoice become in a short time hopelessly insane; while his brother,\nunder pretence of looking after his affairs, left her, at times,\nalmost penniless. Her letters to this unprincipled miscreant, written\noftentimes under bodily as well as mental suffering, are truly\ntouching. In one of them she says,\n\n    \"Think not to send me again to my mother. I will beg my bread\n    in the streets, to all your dishonors, rather than more trouble\n    my friends.\" (Letter in the Caballa.)\n\nSuch were the tales of wretchedness within the precincts of a court.\n\n\nIII.\n\nThe career of King James and his son after the insolent and\nunscrupulous Buckingham appeared to lead or drive them, as the case\nmight be, seems scarcely the actual history of sane men. When the\ndownfall of Somerset left him supreme master, he seems to have taken\npossession of both king and palace. He soon sent for his kindred from\nall parts of the country; and their arrival is thus described:\n\n    \"... the old countess, his mother, providing a place for them\n    to learn to carry themselves in a court-like garb. He desired\n    to match them with wives and husbands, inasmuch as his very\n    female kindred were enough to stock a plantation. So that King\n    James, who in former times so hated women, had his lodgings\n    replenished with them; ... little children did run up and down\n    the king's lodgings like little rabbits; ... for the kindred\n    had all the houses about Whitehall, like bulwarks and flankers\n    to a citadel.\" (Weldon.) #/\n\nThe most amusing event--or rather the most amusing absurdity in the\nannals of that period, or one might say of any other period--was the\nexpedition of Prince Charles to Spain, in 1623, to bring home a wife.\n\nLord Bristol was at the court of Philip IV., negotiating a marriage\nbetween the infanta, his sister, and Prince Charles, and endeavoring\nto secure for him her magnificent dower; when Buckingham, thinking\nhe was gaining too much credit by his labors, felt desirous of going\nhimself to the spot and taking a part in the matter.\n\nHow was this to be accomplished? His wits never failed him. He\napproached Charles with a general lamentation over royal marriages,\nwhere the parties meet first at the altar--too late to retreat--and\nsuggested to him the advantages and romance of presenting himself in\nperson to the infanta, and bringing her home a bride. Charles was\ncharmed with the quixotic notion, and they adjourned to the palace\nto obtain the king's consent. He at first flatly refused; then\nconsented. The next day he fell into a passion of tears, and prayed\nto be released from his promise; for he feared the dangers of the\njourney, and the false reports and suspicions it might give rise to\namong his subjects. Charles was persuasive, the duke indignant and\ninsolent, and once more the king told them to go. In the words of a\nhistorian--\n\n    ... \"So he said he would send Sir Francis Cottington and\n    Endymion Porter with them; and he called Cottington in and told\n    him that baby Charles and Stenie (as he always called them) had\n    a mind to go to Spain and bring the infanta; and Cottington\n    being pressed to speak of it, said it was both unsafe and\n    unwise; whereupon the king wept again, and said, 'I told you\n    so! I told you so!' Then Buckingham abused them all.\"\n\nAfter another storm of words, it was decided that they should go in\ndisguise, with only these two attendants. Their incognito was very\npoorly carried out; for at Gravesend they were suspected by giving\ngold coin, and at Canterbury they would have been arrested, had\nnot Buckingham taken off his false wig and privately made himself\nknown to the mayor. Finally they reached Dover, where they found\nCottington, who had gone on before, in readiness with a vessel, and\nthey set sail for the French coast.\n\nIn Paris, a Scottish nobleman who had somehow received intimation of\ntheir being there, called late one night on the English ambassador,\nand asked if he had seen the prince. \"What prince?\" \"Prince Charles,\"\nwas the reply; but it was too incredible for belief. Yet while in\nParis, although not considering it worth their while to visit the\nBritish ambassador, they contrived to gain admission, without being\nrecognized, to a court dancing-party, where Charles saw for the first\ntime the fascinating Princess Henrietta.[47]\n\nThe consternation in England when their departure, so unbefitting\nroyalty, was discovered, can scarcely be imagined. The king ordered\nprayers to be offered for their safe return; but no allusion made to\ntheir destination. A gentleman of that day, named Meade, writing to a\nfriend, tells this story:\n\n    \"The Bishop of London, you know, gave orders, as from the king,\n    that they pray for the safe return of the prince to us; and no\n    more. An honest, plain preacher here prayed 'that God would\n    return our noble prince to us, and no more!' thinking it all a\n    piece of the prayer.\"\n\nMeanwhile these two knights-errant, or, as the king said, \"sweet boys\nand dear venturous knights, worthy to be put in a new romanzo,\"[48]\ncontinued their journey. At last, at the close of an evening in\nMarch, two mules stopped at the house of my Lord Bristol in Madrid,\nand the riders alighted. _Mr. Thomas Smith_ went in first with a\nportmanteau under his arm--then _Mr. John Smith_ was called in; and\nbefore the amazed diplomatist stood the heir to the British crown and\nthe Marquis of Buckingham. He stared as if he had seen two ghosts;\nbut he presently took Prince Charles to a bed-chamber, and dispatched\na courier to inform his father of his safe arrival.\n\nThe Spanish court took the matter in its most chivalrous light, as\nthe impulse of a lover; although rather puzzled how to arrange a\nreception in a case which certainly had no precedent. The Spanish\npeople were enthusiastic. The infanta blushed charmingly at such\nunheard-of homage, and began to study English. King James sent over a\ntroop of courtiers for a retinue, who proved a rough set--\"jeering at\nthe cookery and the religion, and making themselves odious.\"[49] The\nSpanish prime minister was soon disgusted with Buckingham, and would\nhave been still more so if he could have understood all his swearing\nwords--\"which fortunately he cannot, (says a contemporary,) because\nthey are done in English.\"\n\nThe letters which passed between this precious couple and the king\nat home are amusing. A want of money was his majesty's normal\ncondition; and the pitiless way in which they seemed to ignore it, by\nmaking constant requisitions on his purse, is surprising and amusing\neffrontery. Prince Charles writes,\n\n    \"I confess you have sent me more jewels than I'd have use for\n    but here, seeing so many. Some that you have appointed me to\n    give the infanta, in Stenie's opinion and mine are not fit for\n    her. I pray your majesty send more for my own wearing.\" #/\n\nThen Buckingham defines more precisely their necessities.\n\n    \"Though your baby himself hath sent word what needs he hath,\n    yet will I give my poor and saucy opinion what will be fittest\n    to send. Sire, he hath neither chain, or hat-band; and pray you\n    consider how rich they are here, and since your chiefest jewel\n    is here, your son, I pray you let loose these after him. First,\n    your best hat-band of the Portugal diamond, and the rest of\n    the pendants to make up a necklace to give his mistress. Also\n    the best rope of pearls, with a rich chain or two for himself,\n    and some other jewels, not to deserve that name, that will\n    serve for presents and save your purse. They never had so great\n    occasion to get out of their boxes as now.\"\n\nKing James found consolation in believing that they would soon return\nwith the infanta and her dower; so he strove his best to supply them,\nand touched on smaller matters. He besought baby Charles and Stenie\nnot to forget their dancing, though they\n\n    \"should whistle or sing, one for the other, for the lack of\n    better music; ... but you must be as sparing as you can in your\n    spending, for your officers are put to the height of their\n    speed.... I pray you, my baby, take care of being hurt if you\n    run at tilt.\" (Letters in Ellis Collec.)\n\nDifficult as it was for the king to satisfy their pecuniary demands,\nand desirous though he was to act on Prince Charles's frequent\nsuggestion, to \"consult no counsel, but leave all to Stenie and me,\"\nhe received from them some proposals which rather exceeded his powers\nof acceptance; one of which was nothing less than that, to please\nSpain, he should acknowledge the pope's spiritual supremacy![50]\nProbably at this point some little vision of the people of England\nflitted over him; for he replied that he had made a great many\nconcessions already, and added--\n\n    \"Now, I cannot change my religion as a man changes his shirt at\n    tennis.\"\n\nThe end of their expedition, and of the negotiations with Spain,\nare well known. After meeting the most honorable hospitality, they\nraised objections which they never intended to have removed, and made\npromises which they never meant to fulfil; and returned home without\nthe infanta, and without her dower, to reject with insult the Spanish\nalliance and lay the blame on Spain.\n\nKing James died like any common mortal, in the most literal\nacceptation of the phrase. The same slight cold passing into mortal\nsickness, the household called up in alarm at day-dawn, the same\nhugging on to the dear old life. The countess, mother of Buckingham,\n\"ran with a draught and a posset;\" he took the draught and applied\nthe posset, but it was too late--and the prince, as Charles I.,\nsucceeded him.\n\nCharles had married the sister of the French king, the Princess\nHenrietta, whose dancing had captivated his youthful fancy on his way\nto Spain; but some little discord and confusion had crept into the\nmusic and dancing of their English home. He had promised religious\nfreedom for herself and her household. Her retinue was very numerous,\nand, with different religious creeds and widely different social\nhabits, it is not surprising that year by year a sort of estrangement\nseemed to grow up between them. His majesty ascribed this to foreign\ninfluence; and he resolved to rule his own household, and in that\nvery expressive phrase--_make a clean sweep_.\n\n    \"One fine afternoon the king went unannounced to the queen's\n    side of the house, and finding some Frenchmen dancing and\n    curvetting in her presence, took her hand and led her to his\n    own lodgings; ... then my Lord Conway called forth the French\n    bishop and others, and told them the king's pleasure was that\n    all her majesty's servants of that nation, men and women, old\n    and young, with three or four exceptions, should depart the\n    kingdom. The bishop stood on, that he could not go unless the\n    king his master commanded; but he was told the king his master\n    had nothing to do in England.... The women howled and wept as\n    if they were going to execution; but it did no good, they were\n    thrust out and the doors locked.\"[51]\n\nBuckingham was charged with their transportation and shipping at\nDover; and his master wrote--\n\n    \"Stick not long in disputing with them, Stenie; but drive them\n    away like wild beasts--and the devil go with them.\"\n\nBut an ambassador was dispatched to the French court with\nexplanations.\n\nThe civil wars which desolated the kingdom under Charles I., and\nstained the soil of England with English blood, are familiar to all.\nBuckingham fell by the knife of an assassin. Whether sadly unwise or\nfearfully criminal, the king expiated his mistakes with his life. He\nwas seized and imprisoned; and after a trial condemned and executed.\nHis queen, Henrietta, with her children, all except one, were in\nFrance for safety. His little daughter, the Princess Elizabeth, was\nin England, and at his request was conducted to him the last evening\nof his life. Then, says Whitlock,\n\n    \"it was sad to see him--he took the princess in his arms and\n    kissed her, and gave her two diamonds; and there was great\n    weeping.\"\n\nThere is preserved, in several collections of old poetry, a long and\npathetic elegy, written by King Charles at Carisbrook Castle, where\nhe was imprisoned; it is entitled, _An Imploration to the King of\nKings_, and he sadly says therein--\n\n    \"The fiercest furies that do daily tread\n    Upon my grief, my gray, discrowned head,\n    Are those that owe my bounty for their bread.\n\n    But sacred Saviour! with thy words I woo\n    Thee to forgive, and not be bitter to\n    Such as thou knowest do not know what they do.\"\n\nThe _Commonwealth of England_, whose first grand state seal dated\n1648, came virtually to its end at the death of its founder in 1658;\nand a few years later Charles II. was called from exile to the throne\nof his fathers.\n\nHe is called the _merrie_ monarch; but very far from _merrie_ was\nthe nation under his rule--dissensions and discontent pervaded it\nin every direction. The truth is, that the prominence given in\nbrief histories to this epithet, the madcap frolics of his court,\nthe witty and unprincipled nobles, and the uncommon array of female\nbeauty which made up the surroundings of his own indolence and love\nof pleasure, lead to a sort of general idea that all England was\none grand carousal. A nearer view changes the scene. The religious\ncontests between conformists and non-conformists, which began in\n1662 and lasted some twenty-six years--the fruitful harvest planted\nin preceding years of anarchy and fanaticism--present pictures of\npersecution and suffering such as enter only into religious warfare;\nand which, perhaps, it is most charity to refer to the importance\nwhich the opposing parties attach to their subject. During these\ntwenty-six years it is computed that the penalties which were\ninflicted amounted to between twelve and fourteen millions sterling,\nand the sufferers for conscience' sake numbered 60,000. Homeless, and\nhungry, and penniless, they wandered about or were immured in jails;\nand contemporary writers (Defoe, Penn) assert that from 5000 to 8000\nperished \"like sheep, in those noisome pest-houses.\" Surely that was\nnot the day of _merrie_ old England, beyond the precincts of the\ncourt.\n\nCharles was succeeded by his brother, James II., who was soon\ndeposed, and William, Prince of Orange, who had married his daughter\nMary, was invited to the throne. Next to these came another daughter\nof James, Queen Anne; and with her expired the line of the Stuarts.\nThe dark fortunes of Mary Stuart rested in some form on all her\ndescendants.\n\n\nIV.\n\nIn what quiet library, in what lordly mansion, was this old book\nsafely stored away through all these changing scenes of pageantry\nand splendor, of riot and bloodshed? Who was he that first received\nit, new and comely, from the hands of _William Stanly, printer_,\n(who is saved to fame in a little corner of the title-page,) and\nwhat name is this, written on the margin in ink, embrowned now and\nalmost obliterated, which evidently was once intended to establish\nownership? The dedication to my Lord of Ellismere bespeaks for it a\nplace with the noble and learned; who among them found time then to\nseek\n\n    \"how to liue wel and how to die wel, from our Seneca--whose\n    diuine sentences, wholesom counsailes, serious exclamations\n    against vices, in being but a heathen, may make us ashamed\n    being Christians.\" (Translator's preface.)\n\nWhat statesman, by lamplight perhaps, when the toils of the day were\nover, turned these very pages, and drew a rule for his steps from\nthe maxims of the Roman? Hadst thou but a tongue, old book, what\ntales thou mightest tell! Where wert thou when that pestilence, the\nplague, swept from London 100,000 of its inhabitants? or where when\nits career was checked by that other horror, the great conflagration?\nwhen the bells from a hundred steeples tolled their own requiem, and\nthe number of houses in London was diminished by 13,000.\n\nOne hundred years had passed over it when George I. ascended the\nEnglish throne; then came Georges II., III., and IV., King William\nand Queen Victoria. Under the two first, no small portion of the\ntroubles, both at home and with foreign nations, were traceable to\nthe plots and intrigues of the last solitary scion of the house of\nStuart; and with George III. a new war boomed over the Atlantic. At\nlast it was finished; and at the somewhat mature age of two hundred\nand fifty-six years, but still in good condition, our time-honored\nvolume has crossed the ocean to find a new home under the stripes and\nstars. One more exponent, in its silent eloquence, of that\n\n    \"Vit\u00e6 summa brevis\"\n\nwhich the Roman poet warns us is not to be counted on.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[44] Letters in Sir Henry Ellis's Collec.\n\n[45] Letter of Lascelles to Earl Shrewsbury.\n\n[46] Stratford.\n\n[47] Wotton Reliq. (Sir Henry Wotton, once secretary to Raleigh.)\n\n[48] Ellis Collec.\n\n[49] Howell.\n\n[50] Hardwicke State Papers.\n\n[51] Letter of John Porry in Ellis Col.\n\n\n\n\nTHE VATICAN COUNCIL.\n\nNUMBER FOUR.\n\n\nAnother month of the Vatican Council has passed by without any public\nsession. There has not been a general congregation since February\n22d, when the twenty-ninth was held. This absence of grand public\nceremonials has driven some of the newspaper correspondents to turn\nelsewhere in search of sensational items. We are no longer inundated,\nand at times amused, by column after column of newspaper accounts\nnarrating speeches and events in the council that had scarcely any\nexistence, except in the fertile imaginations of the writers. The\noutward calm in Rome has produced its effect in no small extent in\nthe newspaper world.\n\nThis calm, however, is by no means the calm of inaction. Quite the\ncontrary. At no time were the fathers so assiduously engaged in the\ndeep study of the matters before them, or more earnestly occupied\nwith their conciliar labors.\n\nWe stated in our last number that they were then engaged in the\ndiscussion of the subjects of discipline, on which several\n_schemata_, or draughts, had been drawn up by preparatory committees\nof theologians, in anticipation of the council. The discussion was\ncontinued, on February 19th, with six speakers, on the 21st with\nseven speakers, and was closed on the 22d with seven other speakers,\nwhen the fourth _schema_, or draught, on discipline, was referred,\nas the preceding ones had been, to the appropriate committee or\n_deputation_ on matters of discipline.\n\nThus, within two months, since the congregation of December 28th,\nwhen the discussion began, one _schema_ on faith and four on\ndiscipline had come up before the bishops; and there had been in all\none hundred and forty-five speeches delivered on them. The experience\nof those two months had made several points very clear:\n\nFirst, the _schemata_, or draughts, as prepared by the theologians,\ndid not prove as acceptable to the bishops as perhaps their authors\nhad expected. On the contrary, the bishops subjected them to a very\nsearching examination and discussion, criticising and weighing every\npoint and every expression; and seemed disposed, in measure, to\nrecast some of them entirely.\n\nSecondly, the mode in which this examination had so far been\nconducted might, it was thought, be improved, both in its\nthoroughness and in the length of time it occupied. So far, all the\nprelates who wished had spoken one after another. The sittings of the\ncongregations usually lasted from nine A.M. to one P.M., and became a\ngreat trial of the physical endurance of many of these aged men. The\nprelates could not refrain from asking each other, What progress are\nwe making? How long will this series of speeches last?\n\nAgain, many of the speakers, unwilling to occupy the attention of the\ncongregation too long, strove to condense what they wished to say,\nand sometimes omitted much that might have thrown additional light on\nthe subject, or would be material for the support of their views. Yet\nhow could this be avoided without extending the discussion beyond the\nlimits of endurance.\n\nStill more, many prelates, whose mature and experienced judgments\nwould have been most valuable, would not speak; some, because they\nwere unwilling to increase the already large number of speakers;\nothers, because their organs of speech were too feeble to assure\ntheir being heard throughout a hall which held over a thousand\npersons in by no means crowded seats.\n\nThese points had gradually made themselves manifest, and, as we\nintimated in our last article, the question had been raised, how\nthese difficulties could be met. Some suggested a division of\nthe prelates into a number of sections, in each and all of which\nthe discussions might go on at the same time. But, after much\nconsideration, another method was resolved on, and was announced in\nthe congregation of the 22d of February as the one to be followed in\nthe examination and discussion of the next _schema_, or draught, to\nbe taken up by the council.\n\nThe main points of these additional regulations are the following:\nWhen a _schema_ comes before the council for examination, instead\nof the _viv\u00e2 voce_ discussion, which according to the first system\nwould take place in the congregations, before sending it to the\nproper committee, if necessary, the cardinals presiding shall fix\nand announce a suitable time, within which any and every one of\nthe fathers, who desires to do so, may commit his views on it to\nwriting, and shall send in the same to the secretary of the council.\nAny amendments, additions, and corrections which he may wish to make\nmust be fully and clearly written out. The secretary must, at the\nend of the appointed time, transmit to the appropriate committee,\nor _deputation_ of bishops, all the remarks on the _schema_. The\n_schema_ will be examined and remodelled, if necessary, by the\ncommittee, under the light of these written statements, precisely\nas would be done if the members had before them the full report\nof speeches made in the former style before the congregation. The\nreformed _schema_ is again presented to the congregation, and with\nit a summary exposition of the substance of the remarks and of the\namendments proposed. \"When the _schema_, together with the aforesaid\nsummary, has been distributed to the fathers of the council, the\nsaid presidents shall appoint a day for its discussion in general\ncongregation.\" In parliamentary usage, this corresponds to having the\ndiscussion, not on the first, but on the second reading of a bill.\n\nThis discussion must proceed in the strict order of topics, first\ngenerally; that is, on the _schema_ wholly or in part, as it may have\nbeen brought before the congregation; then on the several portions of\nit, one by one. The speakers who wish to take part in the discussion\nmust, in giving in their names as before, state also whether they\nintend to speak on the _schema_ as a whole, or on some special parts\nof it, and which ones. The form of amendment, should a speaker\npropose one, must be handed in, in writing, at the conclusion of his\nspeech. Of course, the speakers must keep to the point in debate.\nIf any one wanders from it, he will be called to order. The members\nof the reporting committee or deputation will, moreover, be free to\nspeak in reply, during the debate, as they judge it advisable.\n\nThe last four of these by-laws are the following:\n\n    XI. \"If the discussion be unreasonably protracted, after the\n    subject has been sufficiently debated, the cardinals presiding,\n    on the written request of at least ten bishops, shall be\n    at liberty to put the question to the fathers whether the\n    discussion shall continue. The fathers shall vote by rising or\n    retaining their seats; and if a majority of the fathers present\n    so decide, they shall close the discussion.\n\n    XII. \"When the discussion on one part of a _schema_ is closed,\n    and before proceeding to another, the presiding cardinals\n    shall take the votes of the general congregation, first on the\n    amendments proposed during the discussion itself, and then on\n    the whole context of the part under consideration.\n\n    XIII. \"The votes, both as to the amendments and as to the\n    context of such part, will be given by the fathers in the\n    following mode: First, the cardinals presiding shall require\n    those who assent to the amendment or text to rise; then, by a\n    second call, shall require those who dissent to rise in their\n    turn; and after the votes have been counted, the decision of\n    the majority of the fathers will be recorded.\n\n    XIV. \"When all the several parts of a _schema_ have been\n    voted on in this mode, the cardinals presiding shall take\n    the judgment of the fathers on the entire _schema_ under\n    examination as a whole. These votes shall be given _viv\u00e2\n    voce_, by the words, PLACET or NON PLACET. But those who think\n    it necessary to add any condition shall give their votes in\n    writing.\"\n\nIt is already evident that the first provision of these by-laws or\nregulations is attaining its purpose. At the congregation of February\n22d, when they went into force, a certain portion of a new _schema_,\nor draught, on matters of faith, was announced as the next matter\nregularly coming up for examination, and the space of ten days was\nassigned within which the fathers might write out their criticisms,\nand propose any emendations or amendments to it, and send such\nwritten opinions to the secretary. There was no limit to hamper the\nbishops in the fullest expression of their sentiments. They might\nwrite briefly, or at as great length as they deemed proper. Moreover,\nin writing, they would naturally be more exact and careful than\nperhaps they could be in speeches often made extempore. There would\nalso be less liability of being misunderstood. Moreover, many more\ncould and probably would write than would have spoken. It is said\nover one hundred and fifty did so write on this first occasion; so\nthat, in reality, as much was done in those ten days as under the old\nsystem would have occupied two months. The second portion, touching\nthe debate before the congregation, will of course be effective and\nsatisfactory. And it is confidently hoped that the third portion, as\nto the mode of closing the debate and taking the vote, will, when the\ntime comes for testing it, be found equally satisfactory.\n\nIn our previous numbers we have avoided falling into the very error\nof the correspondents which we have repeatedly blamed; we have not\npretended to have succeeded in getting a glimpse behind the curtain\nwhich veils the council, and so to have qualified ourselves to speak\nwithout reserve of the matters treated by the fathers in their\nprivate debates. Even had circumstances brought some knowledge of\nthis to us, it would be under obligations which would effectually\nprevent our touching on it in these articles. But we can be under no\nsuch obligation in regard to questions which, if we are correctly\ninformed, have not come, at least up to the present time, before\nthe congregations of the council. There is one such question which\nexcites universal attention, perhaps we should rather say universal\ntalk, outside the council--the infallibility of the pope. It has\nbecome in Europe the question of the day. Books have been written\non it, pamphlets discussing it are issued every week, and England,\nFrance, Germany, and Spain have been deluged with newspaper articles\nupholding it or attacking it--articles written with every possible\nshade of learning and of ignorance, and in every degree of temper,\nfrom the best to the worst. The articles are what might be expected\nwhen the writers are of every class, from erudite theologians down\nto penny-a-liners, and when, if some are good and sincere Catholics,\nmany are by no means such. Protestants have written on it, some in\nfavor of the doctrine (!), most of them against it. The bitterest and\nmost unfair articles, however, have been and are those written by the\npolitical opponents of the church; though how this precise question\ncan come into politics, any more than the existence of religion, the\ndivinity of the Saviour, the infallibility of the church, or any\nother point of doctrine, we cannot see. But in Europe, if religion\ndoes not go into politics, politics, or at least politicians and\npolitical writers, have no scruples in going into religious matters.\nIn fact, the most advanced party of \"_progress, and enlightenment,\nand liberty_\" proclaim that there should be no religion at all,\nthat it narrows the intellect by hampering freedom of thought, and\nenslaves man by forbidding him to do much that he desires; and\nas they think mankind should, on the contrary, be free from all\nits trammels; and as they hold it to be their special mission to\neffect this liberation, they systematically omit no occasion of\nattacking religion. For them, one point is as good as another; the\ninfallibility of the pope will do as well as the discovery that\na crazy nun, subject to furious mania, was confined in a room so\nsmall that the sides of it only measured twenty feet one way and\ntwenty-three the other, and so low that one had to stand on a step to\nreach the window. Any thing will serve this class of writers. And,\nunfortunately for religious news, much of what appears in the press\nof Europe, and must gradually be infused, in part at least, into the\npress in the United States, is from such pens, and is imbued or is\ntinged with their spirit.\n\nWe would not do justice to Rome and the council if we omitted to\nmention a very interesting event with which the council is connected,\nif only as the occasion. We mean the Roman Exposition of Arts, as\napplied to religious purposes. It was opened by the pope three weeks\nago.\n\nThe traveller arriving in Rome by the railway cannot fail to be\nstruck with wonder at the view which opens before him the instant\nhe steps out of the door of the central station. Just across the\nsquare, huge dark masses of rough masonry rise before him. Some are\nonly twenty or thirty feet high, and their tops are covered with\nthe herbage or bushes that grow on the soil, wafted thither by the\nwinds of centuries. Others are still higher, and are connected by\nwalls equally old, some broken, some nearly entire. Here and there\nimmense arches of masonry, a hundred feet high in the air, still span\nthe space from pier to pier, and bear a fringe of green herbage.\nEvery thing tells you of the immensity of the building, or group\nof buildings which men erected here in ages long gone by. But even\nstill, as you see, portions of these walls and arches are used. Not\nevery pier is a mere isolated ruin; not under every arch can you\nlook and see through it a broad expanse of blue Italian sky. Modern\nwalls are joined to these piers; the ancient walls too are turned to\naccount; irregular roofs, some high, some low, come against them.\nHere, through the high openings in the original wall, men are busy\ntaking in or delivering bundles of hay from the store-house they\nhave constructed. There, through doorways and windows of more modern\nshape, you see that another portion is made to serve as barracks\nfor soldiers. Other buildings stretch away northward and westward,\nschools, orphanages, and a reformatory, as you see by their various\ninscriptions. But though of more recent date, they have not lost all\nconnection with the ruins; for the ground all along shows traces\nof the original constructions in the fragments of broken columns\nand in patches of the ancient masonry, which between and beyond\nthem continues ever and anon to rise in outlying masses. But in the\ncentre, where the strong masonry rises higher than elsewhere and is\nbest preserved, there spreads a wide roof surmounted by crosses at\nthe gables. To the eastward, the ruins seem to die away in a long and\nnot very high line of buildings, evidently cared for and inhabited.\nThe walls are covered with plaster, and the windows are glazed, and\nprotected by shutters. Over the ridge of the roof you may see the\nlofty summits of some cedars that are growing in a court-yard or\ngarden within.\n\nThese are the mighty remnants of the Baths of Diocletian, commenced\nby that emperor in the year 302. Built at the period when Rome was\nat the zenith of her wealth and luxury, it far exceeded all other\nbuildings of its class in the seven-hilled city, both in vastness\nand in grandeur. It was undertaken in a time of the most cruel\npersecution of the church, and the Christians who were condemned\nto imprisonment and hard labor, because they would not deny their\nLord, were brought here day after day from many a prison, and\nfettered like convicts, and were made to labor in erecting this pile\ndevoted to pride, and luxury, and debauchery. Many an account of the\nmartyr Christians of that age tells of old and young men and women,\ncondemned for their faith, and sent to die here a lingering death of\nmartyrdom. Many a soul passed from this spot straight to heaven. For\nwho hath greater love than he who giveth his life for his friend?\nMany a prayer of Christian faith, of holy resignation, of ardent hope\nof a better life, was here uttered day after day, and hour after\nhour, all the years the work lasted. The antiquarian still finds\nhere and there the bricks which believing hands marked with a cross,\nthe outward expression of the prayer of their hearts, offering their\nlabors and sufferings, endured for his sake, to Him who for their\nsakes labored and suffered on the cross. It is estimated that more\nthan forty thousand Christians toiled at the work. It was in these\nruins, if we mistake not, that was found one of the marble tablets\ninscribed with an encomium of Diocletian, for having purged the world\nof that vile and hateful superstition called Christianity.\n\nIn this vast pile of buildings, thirteen hundred feet from east to\nwest, and twelve hundred from north to south, there were halls,\ncourt-yards surrounded by ample porticoes, pools for swimmers,\nthousands of baths, libraries, galleries of painting and sculpture,\nportions set aside for philosophic discussion, other portions for\ngymnastic exercises and games, and every thing that Roman luxury or\nRoman debauchery called for, and Roman wealth could provide.\n\nThe first dismantling and partial destruction of the buildings seems\nto have occurred when Alaric sacked Rome. Yet even a century later\nportions of them were still used for the original purpose as baths.\n\nIt is needless to say how they suffered still more, by alternate\nviolence and neglect, for many centuries afterward. Often it was\noccupied by soldiers as a stronghold, and it suffered at their hands,\nas by alterations here and there they strove to make the place more\ndefensible. Often it was assailed and taken, and then suffered still\nmore, as whatever could be was toppled over in anger. And when the\nsoldiers left it quiet, rain and winds and storms continued the work\nof destruction. In the sixteenth century all this property was owned\nby Saint Charles Borromeo. He gave it to the pope, Pius IV., who\ndetermined to construct a church, if possible, in the midst of these\nruins, and so put them under the guardianship of that very religion\nwhich gave so many martyrs toward their construction. The pontiff\ncommitted the task to Michael Angelo, who executed it in a manner\nwhich won an admiration next to that gained by his great work at St.\nPeter's.\n\nAmid the ruins there stood a vast hall, three hundred and twenty-five\nfeet long and sixty feet broad. Its massive walls were perfect, and\nthe vast arch of masonry that covered it, at the height of over one\nhundred feet, though weakened by the exposure of centuries, still\nstood unbroken. The Caldarium stood near by on one side, and the\nold natatio, or swimming room, joined it on the other. Both still\npreserved their vaulted roofs. Michael Angelo united them, and,\npreserving the walls and the massive monolith columns of red Egyptian\ngranite, which were all standing, skilfully produced a noble church\nin the form of a Greek cross, which is known as St. Mary of the\nAngels. One loves to pass an hour in that vast, quiet, and attractive\nchurch, under the olden arch, now protected from the weather by an\nadditional tiled roof, viewing the exquisite statues of saints,\nand the masterpieces of painting, the originals, some of them, of\nthe mosaics over the altars of St. Peter's, or listening to the\nCistercian monks who serve the church as they slowly and reverently\nchant the divine office at their stated hours of day and night.\n\nOn the eastern side, toward the Pretorian Camp, war had done its most\ndestructive work. Here Michael Angelo found the ruins so entirely\nbeaten down that most of the space had been devoted to gardens,\nthough encumbered indeed by sundry picturesque mounds of masonry.\nHere, using the materials at hand so far as they would serve, he\nerected a monastery for the Cistercians, a plain quadrangular\nbuilding, inclosing an open space about four hundred feet square.\nTo each side of this the building presents a portico, or arcade,\nwhich thus forms a cloister, supported by twenty-five columns of\ntravertine. No work of that great architect and artist exceeds this\ncloister in its simplicity, and the exquisite beauty of form and\nproportion in all its parts. In the centre of the yard is a majestic,\never-flowing fountain, throwing its stream of water aloft. This falls\ninto an ample marble reservoir beneath, whose waters ripple and\nsparkle in the sunlight as the gold-fish are darting to and fro into\nthe shade of water-lilies or out to court the beams of the sun. By\nthis basin the architect planted with his own hand four young cedars,\nwhich throve apace. Three of them are still standing, historic trees.\nTwo are strong and vigorous, though three centuries old; a third is\nin the decrepitude of old age, shattered and broken by the winds, but\nstill bravely struggling to the last to raise its topmost branches\nupward toward heaven. The fourth perished some years ago, and has\nbeen replaced by another, younger one, which a good Cistercian, they\nsay, obtained by securing in time and carefully nursing a young shoot\nof the old tree itself.\n\nAround the cloister are the cells of the brethren. They seem to have\na curious fancy of fastening placards on their doors. You can see\nhalf a dozen of them of different sizes. On some doors the sheet of\npaper is apparently fresh and clean, and is still securely fastened\nby four tacks, or by wafers under the corners. On other doors some of\nthe tacks have fallen out, or the wafers have lost their hold, and\nthe paper hangs dangling by a single corner. The winds have blown\nit until it is torn. The rain has moistened and caused it to curl.\nThe upper portion hangs loosely over, half hiding the writing on it.\nYou approach and stretch out your hand to lift it up, that you may\nread what a Cistercian had placarded on the door of his cell. It is\nall a delusion! There is no paper! Some painter, quitting the world,\nretreated to this community. In its quietude and silence, and in its\npenitential life, he found again peace and tranquillity of soul, and\nthe gayety of his youth came back to him. He took a boyish pleasure\nin playing this clever artistic practical joke on the strangers whom\ncuriosity, or other motives, from time to time, brought to look\nat the interior of a Carthusian monastery. He died peacefully and\npiously years ago, but the brethren have not ceased to enjoy the joke\nhe perpetrated.\n\nWhat a practical lesson of the power with which God rules the\nworld! In this spot where a cruel and sanguinary emperor persecuted\nand martyred Christians by the thousands, and boasted that he had\nexterminated the Christian church, the ruins of his vast work owe\ntheir preservation to the sacred power of a Christian church. Where\nluxury, and the pride of the world, and every form of sensuality were\nwont to seek their gratification, now meek and humble white-robed\nCistercians who have renounced the world and its pomps and sins, and\nare vowed to poverty, chastity, and obedience, work and study in\nsilence, fast austerely, and make the hours of day and the hours of\nnight holy by prayer and chanting of psalms. The heathen empire of\nRome has passed away, but the church it tried to destroy lives in\nperpetual youth. Rome has lost her heathen power of ruling with the\nsword the bodies of men from the Pillars of Hercules. But through\nthat very Christianity Rome has received and wields a far higher\npower than the sword could give. She guides the consciences and\nminds of men, not only through the provinces of her olden temporal\nempire, but beyond their limit, in lands where the eagle of a Roman\nlegion was never raised, and in countries of whose existence the\nRoman emperors never dreamed. To the thoughtful mind the Cistercian\nmonastery and the noble church of St. Mary of the Angels but typify\nthe glory of Christian Rome, built amid the ruins of her olden\nheathen power.\n\nThe proposal, made originally by whom we know not, of opening an\nexposition of religious art at Rome during the sittings of the\ncouncil, was immediately taken up with enthusiasm. His Holiness\nassigned the garden of this noble cloister as the best adapted site\nto be found in Rome, except at a large expense. The Cistercians\nwithdrew temporarily to other buildings close by, and gave up their\nown beautiful place to architects and workmen. The cloister, or broad\nopen arcade, which runs round the square garden was chosen to form\nthe outer gallery or halls, altogether about twelve hundred feet\nlong by twenty broad. Within this outer gallery, and just touching\neach side in the middle, is a series of sixteen rooms, all of the\nsame size, and of the same irregular, or rather rhomboidal, shape,\nforming, as it were, a broad polygon of sixteen sides. Within this\npolygon is the central portion of the garden, still unoccupied, with\nits gravelled walks, its green sward, its rose-trees and flowering\nplants, its ever-gushing fountain, the ample basin receiving the\nwater, the glistening gold-fish, and the majestic cedars of Michael\nAngelo. The arcade has, of course, its own covering. The sixteen\nrooms of the polygon are roofed with glass, to let in the flood of\nlight, and a few feet below the glass is another roofing, or awning,\nto soften its intensity and to mitigate the heat of the direct rays\nof the sun. Large openings in the partition walls allow free passage\nfrom room to room, all around the polygon; and where it touches the\narcade or outer halls, other doors allow you to pass to them, or by\nopposite doors you may pass out to walk in the garden.\n\nThe exposition was opened on the 17th of February by the pope\nhimself, in the presence of the commission for the exposition, a\nnumber of cardinals, some three hundred of the bishops, and a large\nconcourse of clergy and laity. He made an impromptu discourse,\ntouching chiefly on the true progress which art has made under the\ninspiration of religion and the patronage of the church, and in\nillustration referred to some of those unrivalled works of religious\npainting and sculpture which are found in Rome.\n\nNothing could be more appropriate to the assembling of so many\nbishops and priests and pious laymen in Rome, drawn by the council,\nthan this exposition. Go when you will, you will find many of all\nthese classes spending hours in studying a collection of religious\nworks of every kind, such as most of them have never seen. In size\nand extent this exposition cannot, of course, compare with those vast\nones of London and Paris. They sought and received objects of every\nkind. This admits nothing that is not devoted to, or in some way\nconnected with, religion. It would correspond, therefore, with one\nsection of the Paris Exposition of 1867. Considered in this light,\nit does not, as a whole, fall below it; in several respects it is\nsuperior.\n\nWe have not the space now to enter into a detail of the many and\nmultifarious objects offered for examination. Every art seems\nrepresented. For what is there that cannot be made to give glory to\nGod? Still, we may glance at a few of the chief groups.\n\nThe exterior arcade is chiefly devoted to sculpture and paintings. Of\nthe former there are here and elsewhere in the exhibition over two\nhundred and fifty pieces, in marble, in plaster, or metal, or wood. I\ndo not count the hundreds of sweet little things in terra cotta, nor\nthe many objects in ivory. Tadolini, Benzoni, Pettrich, and a hundred\nother artists from Rome, and other parts of Italy, Germany, and\nFrance, have sent the work of their chisels. As a whole, this group\nof subjects stands far higher in point of good art than was looked\nfor. Some of the statues are of a high order. We may instance a\ngroup of heroic size by Tadolini, representing the Archangel Michael\novercoming Lucifer, after the painting by Guido, and two life-size\nMadonnas by Pettrich, all of which, we understand, will be forwarded\nto the United States. There is in one of the French rooms a plaster\ncopy of the statue of the holy Vianney, curate of the village of\nArs, near Lyons, in France, who died a few years ago in the odor of\nsanctity, and who, the Catholics of France are confident, will in due\ntime be canonized. He is robed in soutane, surplice, and stole, and\nis kneeling in prayer, his face turned upward toward heaven. I do not\nspeak of the style and execution, which are good; but of the face,\nwhich attracts every one. It is said to be a perfect likeness. Thin,\ngaunt, with features sharp and exaggerated by the lack of flesh,\nrather ugly than otherwise, there is an expression of simplicity,\nof piety, of kindness, of earnestness, which makes it far more than\nbeautiful, a face that grows in sweetness as you look on it. And yet\nstudy the individual features, forehead, eyebrows, nose, mouth, chin,\ncheek-bones, the chief lines and wrinkles. They are precisely the\nsame as on the repulsive face of Voltaire! What different expressions\nwere given to the same features by the calm piety, the love of God\nand our neighbor, the spiritual peace dwelling in the soul of the\nsaintly priest, and the pride, and envy, and passions, and the\nbitter, hopeless or despairing unbelief of the apostle of evil.\n\nAs we examine these statues, so good in their execution and so\ntruly religious in their type, one cannot but feel a regret that in\nthe United States we are such strangers to the use of them in our\nchurches and chapels and oratories. Here and there are found, indeed,\ncasts in plaster of Paris, sometimes in _papier-mach\u00e9_. But how few\nreal works of merit in materials and in style! If the clergy who\nare at work building our churches, and some of the laymen who are\nseconding them in this work, could only see those statues of our Lord\non the cross, or bearing the cross and sinking under its weight,\nor healing the blind, or blessing little children; or those sweet\nones of the Mother and Divine Child, in various positions; or of the\nBlessed Virgin, of St. Joseph, of Saint Cecilia, Saint Agnes, and\nof so many other saints and groups representing religious subjects;\nsurely among them, in marble, in iron, bronzed, silvered, gilt, or\nilluminated with polychrome, and such a variety in size and in cost,\nthey would understand the void in our churches, and would each do his\npart to supply it.\n\nEspecially would this be the case with the stations of the way of the\ncross. No devotion is more tender and consoling, and at the same time\nnone more strengthening to true piety and the practice of virtue,\nthan this pilgrimage of faith, in which we accompany our Lord, and,\nas it were, stand by his side, during the several scenes of his\nsufferings down to his death on the cross and his burial. No devotion\nis more popular, because none better suited to the faithful of every\ncondition and class. Would it not be well if the engravings of those\ndifferent scenes, so often found--we had almost said, disfiguring the\nwalls of our churches, could give way to some of those basso-relievos\nand alto-relievos of France, of Italy, and of Germany, such as we see\nhere? The love of the beautiful and striking is innate in man. Even\nthe child feels it; and in manhood, use and education but develop and\nincrease the satisfaction it gives. While we smiled, we could not\nbut sympathize in some measure with the Italian sculptor who, on his\ndying-bed, pushed away a crucifix which a pious attendant wished to\nplace in his hands. \"Not that, not that! it makes me angry,\" he said;\n\"it is horrid! Give me the other one; it is well made. That will\nexcite devotion.\" Let children be taught, in a way they will love, to\nthink often, to know, to realize, even from their tenderest years,\nwhat the loving and merciful Saviour suffered for man. Lessons well\nlearned at that tender and innocent age seldom fade from the mind\nand heart in after years. And no way of teaching that lesson is more\neffectual than the one we indicate.\n\nThere are more than five hundred paintings in the exposition. Of\nthese perhaps two hundred are by the old masters, and have been\nplaced here by their owners.\n\nThese embrace paintings by the divine Raffaele, as the Italians\ncall him, Domenichino, Annibale Carracci, Correggio, Maratta, Carlo\nDolce, Salvator Rosa, Murillo, Leonardo da Vinci, Guido Reni, Rubens,\nVandyke, Ribeyra, Del Sarto, and a host of other old masters,\nItalian, German, Flemish, and Spanish, whom we need not name. There\nwe may gaze with rapture on the excellence of art inspired by\nreligious thought. It is a fact not to be overlooked or forgotten,\nin these days of irreligion, that the best paintings which the best\nartists ever painted were all produced when they brought their powers\nto represent a religious subject. In painting, and in other things\ntoo, he works best who works in the spirit of religion and the fear\nof God.\n\nThe larger number of the paintings are of later date, many of them\nby living artists. To our eye, certainly not trained to criticism,\nmany of them appear worthy of high praise. But we believe the general\nverdict is not so favorable to them as to the statuary. Still, we\nmust remember that here they have to compete side by side with\nthose old paintings of the highest order. The contrast between their\nfreshly laid colors and the colors of older paintings, toned down by\nage, if not somewhat faded, is so strong and striking that this very\ndifference, often no real difference on the part of the painters, is\nset down as a defect to be censured. The portrait of the pope, by our\nAmerican artist Healy, is undoubtedly the best likeness of the Holy\nFather in the exposition.\n\nWhat we said of the statuary we may repeat with equal reason of\nreligious paintings. How easy it would be to adorn our churches\nand chapels with these books of the eye, one glance at which often\nteaches more than a sermon. The artists at home capable of producing\na religious painting worthy of being placed in a church are few,\nperhaps might be counted on one's fingers. European painters capable\nof giving an original ask such prices for their work as generally to\nput them as far beyond our means as if they were to be painted at\nhome. Even at that, their conception and treatment of a subject will\nscarcely stand comparison with approved works of the best masters who\nhave already treated the same subjects. But there is a large class\nof painters here who devote themselves to copying and reproducing\nthose old paintings, on every scale as to size. The execution of many\nof them is good, and the prices for which the artists are willing\nto work seem very low. It is wonderful how much painting, and good\npainting, five hundred dollars well laid out in Rome will obtain.\nSeveral of our clerical friends, who have visited Rome this winter,\ncarry back with them evidences of this fact.\n\nNext to the paintings should come the stained glass, which is superb,\nand is offered at a price which seems really astonishing--about five\ndollars a square foot for the richest kind, with life-size figures.\n\nThe large windows, from several competing manufacturers, are so\nmounted that the light shines through them, and you can examine\nat full leisure and carefully the wondrous effects of united\nbrilliancy and softness in these works of peculiarly Christian art.\nThe art of painting on glass, which many, up to a recent period,\nthought entirely lost, has revived in this century, and seems fast\napproaching the perfection which it attained in the middle ages.\nThere is one marked difference observable between the old windows\nand some of the work here. The ancients displayed their skill in\ncombining together thousands of minute pieces of glass of different\ncolors, so as to make up a picture in its proper colors and its\nlights and shadows. The modern artists have attempted the task of\nproducing the picture on a single large sheet of glass. This would\nfree it from the single defect almost unavoidable in this work--the\nstiffness of the figures. But the earlier attempts presented such\nvariation in the perfections of the several colors used as to be\nfailures, in point of that brilliancy and play of light which\nconstitute the charm of this work. The source of the defect was to\nbe found in the laws of nature, on which every work, and this work\ndirectly, depends. The general mode of procedure in which glass is\ncolored is this: The subject is painted on the surface of a sheet\nof glass with metallic paints. The glass is placed in an oven and\nslowly and carefully raised to that point of heat at which it grows\nsoft. The particles of metal constituting the colors sink into the\nglass and become portions of its substance. The difficulty was found\nto spring from the great difference in the rate and manner in which\nthe colors would sink into the softened substance. What would give\nsome colors perfectly, would leave others imperfect; and continuing\nthe work until these were perfect, would often destroy the first. But\npatient study and careful work have overcome these difficulties to a\ndegree which we did not expect. There are full-size figures here in\nstained glass rivalling those of the middle ages in brilliancy, and\npossessing the freedom of a painting on canvas.\n\nThe perfection of the Gobelins tapestry is almost incredible. A\nlarge canvas, twenty-five feet by ten, presents the Assumption by\nTitian, and near it is a life-size figure of our Lord in the tomb.\nIt is a sermon but to look on the cold, rigid body of him who bore\nour transgressions. There are specimens of photography, some showing\nlife-size figures, of oleography, lithography, chromo-lithography,\nengravings on copper, for which Rome cannot be excelled, on steel,\nand on wood. In many of these branches France and Germany rival, if\nthey do not surpass Italy. But Rome stands unrivalled in mosaics, of\nwhich there are here exquisite specimens.\n\nIn architecture, we find plans of churches and colleges, very full\nand clear, but not striking; designs for the interior of chapels and\nsanctuaries, of a far higher order of art, several miniatures of\nchurches; a fac-simile in white marble of the front of St. Peter's,\nand another in wood, on the scale of about one inch to ten feet,\nshowing the entire exterior of the church front and dome in all its\ndetails, the colonnades, fountains, and square before it, and so\nconstructed that it can be opened in several ways, in order to give\nan equally correct and minute view of the interior with all its\nornamentation. You may recognize every painting and statue in the\nbasilica. It took years of patient labor to make this model, and it\nis said to have been sold to an Italian prince for twenty thousand\ndollars. What a pity such a work should be shut up in some palace in\nthe city where every one can go to the real St. Peter's. It should\nrather be sent to distant countries, where thousands, who will never\ngo to Rome, might be able to obtain from it a far clearer conception\nthan any books can give of the form and splendor of this great\ntemple, which is deservedly the pride and the glory of the Christian\nworld.\n\nIn music, there are organs with the latest and best improvements,\nharmoniums, Alexandre organs of various powers and many stops, and\nchimes and church-bells hung on a new patent system, by which a mere\nboy can swing easily and ring loudly a bell of nearly a ton weight.\nAs for texts of church music, you may turn over the parchment leaves\nof huge folio graduals and antiphonaries, in which the good old monks\nof past ages wrote the Gregorian notes and the words so large and so\nclear as to be easily read in the choir, even at the distance of ten\nfeet. There are later ones printed nearly as large, and collections\nof modern church music from Italy, Germany, and from France.\n\nEcclesiastical vestments abound in the exposition. Rome, Milan, and\nother cities of Italy are represented by the most celebrated of\ntheir manufacturers. France has sent a multitude from Paris, Lyons,\nGrenoble, Montpellier, Nismes, and elsewhere. Others have come from\nGermany and from Spain. Here are copes and chasubles, dalmatics,\nantipendiums, and veils, of the richest material and exquisite\nworkmanship. You can examine the ample yet light and pliable\nvestments of Italy, the rich and stiffer ones of France, the narrow\nand scantier form of Austria, and the heavier ones from Spain, that\nought never to wear out. In the matter of vestments you are taught\na lesson of history. For here, carefully preserved in large glass\nwardrobes, are shown the vestments used six hundred and eight hundred\nyears ago, if not a thousand years ago, in St. Peter's, in St. Mary\nMajor's, in St. John Lateran's, and in the cathedral of Anagni.\n\nThe emperors of the Holy Roman Empire, as it was called, which sprung\ninto existence in the ninth century, and died in the convulsions\nof Europe consequent on the French revolution, were bound to come,\nif circumstances allowed it, to Rome, to receive their royal\nconsecration in St. Peter's at the hands of the pope. On such\noccasions, the emperor was admitted for that time into the sanctuary,\nwore a deacon's dalmatic, and chanted a gospel. Here you may look at\nthe identical dalmatic which they wore a thousand years ago. It is of\nsilk, and the figures which decorate it were worked with the needle,\nin gold thread. Near by are copes, and chasubles, and mitres faded\nand worn; which still give evidence of the art and care in making\nthem, the richness of the materials used, and of the skill of the\nembroidery and painting which decorated them. What will the modern\nchasubles and copes around us, now so fresh and splendid, look like\nin A.D. 2500?\n\nChurch vessels of every class are equally abundant. Chalices, pixes,\ncruets, censers, incense-cups, crosses, crucifixes, ostensories,\ncroziers, every thing that can be thought of, are here, often in\ntheir richest forms. There are chapelles for priests, and chapelles\nfor bishops. Altar candlesticks and candelabra of every size and\ngraceful form tempt you. Perhaps the most interesting in a scientific\nand also a pecuniary view, is the large collection of all those\nvessels made of bronze aluminium, of a light gold color, and not\nliable to tarnish. The weight is light, and the prices low.\n\nThere are altars of marble, of cast-iron, of bronze gilt, and of\nwood colored and illuminated, the last-named truly beautiful, and\nthey would well replace some of those far more costly constructions\nsometimes to be met in our churches.\n\nAltars lead us to candelabra, candlesticks, and chandeliers; and\nhere they are displayed in every size, from an immense chandelier\nto be suspended in a church, of metal gilt, ornamented with angels\nand religious emblems, and bearing sixty-five lights, down to the\ntasteful bongie, or tiny candlestick which an acolyth holds in his\nhand when he attends a bishop at the altar. Altar candlesticks and\ncandelabra seem a specialty with the French artists. The graceful\ncurve of the outlines, the appropriateness and suggestiveness of the\ndecoration, and the ease with which all these pieces may be combined\nto produce on the altar a whole simple and tasteful, or rich and\nsplendid, can scarcely be conceived. They bring to their work the\nspirit of the children of Israel in the desert, offering their gold\nand jewels to Moses for the ornamentation of the tabernacle of the\nMost High. Man can never do too much to testify his homage and his\nloving obedience to God.\n\nIn Christian bibliography the chief Catholic publishers have done\nwell. The polyglott press of the Propaganda exhibits many of its late\npublications; among others an accurate _fac-simile_ of the Codex\nVaticanus of the Scriptures, and a volume containing the Lord's\nPrayer in two hundred and fifty languages, in the proper characters\nof each language, where it has any. The volume presents one hundred\nand eighty different forms of type. Salviucci, of Rome; Pustet, of\nRatisbon; Dessain, of Malines, and many others exhibit well printed\nand richly bound copies of their chief publications. Vecco & Co., of\nTurin, show the eighteen volumes they have already printed of the new\nedition of the _Magnum Bullarium_. Victor Palm\u00e9, of Paris, displays\nan enormous line of folio volumes, the _Acta Sanctorum_ of the great\nBollandists, the republication of which he has just finished in\nfifty-eight volumes. To this he adds his edition of the _Ideologia_,\nby the professors of Salamanca, his _Gallia Christiana_, his edition\nof _Annales Baronii_, and the introductory volume of a new edition of\nthe _Collectio Maxima Conciliorum_, which he has just commenced.\n\nIt was sad not to find the veteran Migne here, and to think of that\nsad conflagration which consumed the work of a lifetime. He had\nundertaken, and after fifty years of steady persevering labor, was\nfinishing the greatest bibliographical achievement of the publishers\nof this century. The twelve or thirteen hundred large volumes he\nhad published in his collection, embracing all the fathers, Greek\nand Latin, ample courses of Scripture, theology, and canon law,\nencyclop\u00e6dias, history, theologians, preachers, etc., would have\npresented the largest and most imposing array of volumes--almost a\ncomplete theological library in itself. Great as was his loss, that\nto the clergy was greater.\n\nWe mention last a collection which every visitor to the exposition\nhurries to see first, as most deserving of his attention, the\ncollection of articles which the Holy Father himself directed\nshould be sent here from the Sixtine Chapel: 1. The famous tiara\npresented to him by the Queen of Spain. The three crowns on it are of\nbrilliants and pearls, the roses are rubies and emeralds, the ball on\nthe summit is of rubies, and the cross above of diamonds. As a work\nof art, it is considered a _chef-d'\u0153uvre_ of grace and elegance,\nand does honor to the artists of Spain. 2. A chalice of gold covered\nwith brilliants and diamonds. These diamonds and brilliants were a\npresent from Mehemet Ali. 3. A large golden ostensory, of Byzantine\nstyle, the rays of which are studded with brilliants, from the same\ndonor. 4. A large processional cross of gold, the staff of silver\ngilt. The cross is of an elegantly flowering Gothic form, and is\nadorned with precious stones and enamel. It was made to order in\nFrance, and is a present from the Marquis of Bute. Chalices, mitres,\nvestments, cruets, an ancient MS. missal, exquisitely illuminated\nand richly bound, with many other objects, make up a large list of\narticles which His Holiness has sent to give additional interest to\nthe exposition. Others have acted in the same spirit; and certainly,\nif the number, the richness, and the exquisite taste and elegance of\nthe articles displayed can effect it, the exposition is a success.\nThe attendance has been pretty fair, and as the governmental outlay\nhas been but small, may prove remunerative. The exhibitors will\ncertainly succeed in introducing their works to the religious world\nfar more generally than they could have ordinarily looked for. And\nthe visitors seem all satisfied that each repeated visit to the\nexposition is a renewed and increased pleasure. We may perhaps\nendeavor next month to be able to write more at length of the more\nprominent articles in the exposition, with reference to the needs of\nour American churches.\n\n\n\n\nNEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n\n    AN ESSAY IN AID OF A GRAMMAR OF ASSENT. By John Henry Newman,\n    D.D. 1 vol. 12mo. New York: The Catholic Publication Society.\n    1870.\n\nIt would be quite impossible without exceeding proper limits to give\nany thing more than an incomplete sketch of the plan of this able\nwork; it must, of course, be read in full to be appreciated.\n\nAt the outset three states of mind are distinguished, assent,\ninference, and doubt, corresponding to the external actions of\nassertion, conclusion, and interrogation, though not necessarily\naccompanying them. The subject of the essay is, as its name implies,\nprincipally the first of these; doubt being merely alluded to, and\ninference treated in its relation to assent, and only that species\nbeing considered at length which is not strictly demonstrative. The\nvarious modes in which assent exists, and in which it is formed, are\nthe first objects of examination.\n\nThe division made here of assent, and which recurs throughout the\nwork, is into real and notional, the former relating to propositions\nwhose terms, in the words of the author, \"stand for things external\nto us, unit and individual,\" the latter \"for what is abstract,\ngeneral, and non-existing;\" and this last is distinguished under the\nnames of profession, credence, opinion, presumption, and speculation,\nwhich terms are necessarily used in senses somewhat different from\nthose ordinarily attached to them.\n\nThe strength of real assents in comparison to notional ones is\nshown, and the difference in this point of view between assent and\ninference; the latter being clearest in purely abstract matters.\nNot but that assent is always unconditional or absolute; still, its\nmaterial, when real, is so much more vividly apprehended that the\nassent elicited is much more energetic and operative. Thus also when\nnotional assents become real, as they may in consequence of some\nspecial circumstances, their hold upon the mind and control upon\naction is much increased.\n\nThis subject is illustrated by a discussion of religious assents,\nwith special reference to the being of God, and to the Holy Trinity;\nit is shown that the former truth, and the constituent parts of the\nlatter, can be, and usually are, the objects of real assent, though\nthe latter in its completeness or unity can only be notionally\napprehended; and though the definition of the Divine Being may give\nonly a notional idea. The implicit assent which unlearned Christians\ngive to all the definitions of the church is also explained.\n\nThe absolute and unconditional character of assent is next treated,\nand it is shown that it has this character even when given without\ngood grounds, or when those grounds are forgotten; and that it is not\nnecessarily conceded to convincing proofs, and may disappear while\nthe inference which led to it still remains. Without this character\nthe act is not assent at all, or at least is only that notional form\nof it called by the author opinion, which he defines as assent to\nthe probable truth of a proposition. The possibility and continual\noccurrence of full assent without intuition or demonstration is\ndefended against those who, though really they have no doubt about\nsome theoretically uncertain matters, yet \"think it a duty to remind\nus that, since the full etiquette of logical requirements has not\nbeen satisfied, we must believe those truths at our peril.\"\n\nThe distinction is drawn between simple or unconscious assent and the\nconscious, reflex, or complex assent, as the author calls it, which,\nwhen the thing believed is true, has the name of certitude, and is\nirreversible or indefectible. In simple assent we do not give any\nplace, or in any way incline mentally to the opposite belief, though\nwe may examine the grounds of our own for various reasons; but when\nwe are certain, we explicitly refuse to admit any thing opposed to\nit. The occurrence of false or supposed certitudes does not suffice\nto prove the non-existence of real ones; and certitude is not to be\nconfounded with infallibility, which is a faculty applicable \"to all\npossible propositions in a given subject matter,\" while certitude is\n\"directed to this or that particular proposition.\"\n\nThe next part is the discussion of the act of inference. In its most\nperfect or formal state it can be used without limitation only upon\nabstractions; it \"comes short of proof in concrete matters, because\nit has not a full command over the objects to which it relates, but\nmerely assumes its premises.\" Hence, even when what we do assume is\ntrue, as shown in an earlier part of the work, processes of inference\nin concrete matters may easily end in mysteries. In many cases it\ncannot profitably be used, owing to the labor required for taking\naccount of all the circumstances, as well as the real difference\nof the first principles from which our syllogisms proceed. We\nare, therefore, obliged to resort to informal inference, in which\narguments and probabilities are estimated in the mass, and have a\ndifferent force to different individuals, according to the character\nin them of what Dr. Newman calls the illative sense. He concludes by\ntreating of the exercise of this combining and directing faculty in\nits application to religious inferences, both in natural and revealed\nreligion, and shows that by means of it we may fairly arrive at\ncertitude regarding Christianity, and that such a method is at least\nas likely to succeed as more formal demonstrations. The lawfulness\nand reasonableness of assent in religious matters, as well as in\nothers, without such demonstrations, may be regarded as one of the\nmain objects of the work, though by no means its only one.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    DE L'UNIT\u00c9 DANS L'ENSEIGNEMENT DE LA PHILOSOPHIE AU SEIN\n    DES ECOLES CATHOLIQUES D'APR\u00c8S LES RECENTES DECISIONS DES\n    CONGREGATIONS ROMAINES. Par le P. H. Rami\u00e8re, S.J. Paris, 1862.\n\nF. Rami\u00e8re is well known as the head of the admirable confraternity\nof \"The Apostleship of Prayer,\" and the author of a number of\nexcellent works on spiritual subjects, and also on the great\nreligious questions of the day. We have recently been indebted to\nhim for some extremely able essays in defence of the rights of the\nHoly See, for which he has received the eulogium of the Holy Father\nhimself. The work whose title is given above has been sent to us by\nthe reverend father himself, we presume on account of the article\ntranslated, with some preliminary observations of our own, from F.\nVercellone, on the ideology of St. Augustine, which appeared in a\nrecent number; and we beg to thank him for his kindness. We had not\nbefore had the pleasure of reading it, although it has been eight\nyears published. We have read it with attention, and, we are happy to\nsay, with much satisfaction. The learning and logical force of the\nauthor command our respect, and his calmness, candor, impartiality,\nand truly Christian charity win our esteem, throughout the whole\ncourse of his argument. The argument is divided into three parts. In\nthe first part, the author sustains the possibility and the great\nimportance of unity in philosophical instruction, and lays down the\nconditions by which it can be obtained. In all that he says under\nthis head we fully and cordially concur with him. In the second\npart, he discusses traditionalism; and here again we find ourselves\nin perfect agreement with all his positions. In the third part, he\nattacks the grand difficulty of the origin of rational cognition,\nand, of course, discusses the vexed question of ontologism. It would\nbe a futile effort to attempt a critical appreciation of this part of\nF. Rami\u00e8re's work in a brief critical notice, and we will not attempt\nit. An opinion on these very grave and much controverted topics,\nin order to be worth attention, must be supported by elaborate\narguments, and based on deep and patient study of all the principal\nauthors, ancient and modern, whose works are the great sources\nof philosophical knowledge. We agree perfectly with F. Rami\u00e8re,\nthat thorough discussion, carried on in the spirit of moderation,\ndirected by a pure love of truth, and regulated by obedience to the\nauthority of the church, is the only road by which we can attain\nto that degree of unity in philosophical doctrines which prevails\namong all truly orthodox theologians in respect to dogmatic and\nmoral theology. We desire to see this discussion go on, and hope for\na good result from it; and as a necessary preparation, we cannot\ntoo earnestly insist on the necessity of a more thorough study of\nscholastic philosophy than has been common among those who have\nwritten on these subjects in the English language. Both in theology\nand philosophy, we hold it as certain that we must follow the great\nfathers and doctors of the church as our guides and masters, or go\nastray and lose our labor. The essential truths of philosophy must be\ncontained in that system which the church authorizes, and in which\nshe trains up her clergy.\n\nAs we understand them, there is no difference between F. Vercellone\nand F. Rami\u00e8re on this point. We are not authorized to speak for\nDr. Brownson, who is the great philosophical writer among American\nCatholics; but we think he would agree with us fully in this\njudgment; and that the passage in a contrary sense, quoted by F.\nRami\u00e8re, is to be regarded as one of those _obiter dicta_ which\nhis mature, deliberate wisdom would not ratify. We cheerfully\nacknowledge that the doctrine which F. Rami\u00e8re so lucidly exposes\nas the Thomistic doctrine of the origin of cognition is sufficient\nas a basis of rational certitude and natural theology, and we\nare perfectly agreed with him that this is the main point to be\nsecured. As for the profound and difficult, and therefore intensely\ninteresting and attractive, questions which relate to the nature of\nthe intellectual light itself, and the objective truth seen by its\naid, it does not seem to us that they have yet been as thoroughly\ndiscussed as they need to be, in order to bring the various schools\ninto a closer agreement. This is certainly so as respects philosophy\nin the English language, which is yet in its cradle, and we think it\nis true universally. Of course, the great question to be settled\nat the outset is, how far the boundary of philosophical doctrine,\nas rendered certain by the consent of the great doctors, intrinsic\nevidence, and the decisions of the supreme ecclesiastical authority,\nextends; and where opinion begins. The true understanding of the\nfamous decisions of 1861 is absolutely necessary to this end, so far\nas ideology is concerned; and F. Rami\u00e8re has given an explanation\nof their sense and intention which perfectly agrees with that of F.\nVercellone in a supplement to the article which we translated. It is,\nnamely, the intuition of the essence of God, and created things in\nthat essence, as the natural, intellectual light of reason, which we\nare forbidden to affirm.\n\nAre we, therefore, required, as an only alternative, to adopt the\nPeripatetic philosophy as taught by the Thomists? It would seem that\nthis has not yet been sufficiently proved. The works of Gerdil,\nVercellone, and others, who profess to find in Plato, St. Augustine,\nSt. Bonaventure, St. Anselm, and other great authors, a philosophical\nwisdom which supplies a want not fully satisfied by St. Thomas,\nhave not yet been marked by any note of disapprobation. It is true\nthat F. Rami\u00e8re tells us that Gerdil changed his opinions in his\nlater years. But F. Vercellone denies this, on the authority of\nCardinal Lambruschini. F. Rami\u00e8re is extremely tolerant of opinions\ndiffering from his own, where he thinks he has only a greater\nprobability on his side. He does not censure the following of these\ngreat authors, or discourage the study of them; but he thinks they\nare misunderstood, and that a better study of them would result in\nmaking us all Peripatetics and Thomists. Let us by all means, then,\nespecially those who have youth, strength, and leisure, study the old\nmasters of philosophy more deeply than we have done, and truth and\nunity will be the gainers. F. Rami\u00e8re protests strongly, however,\nagainst the high esteem which some Catholic writers have expressed\nfor Gioberti. As it happens that one of our correspondents has done\nthe same in the present number, we feel bound to assure F. Rami\u00e8re,\nand our readers generally, that we detest, as much as any one can,\nthe rebellious conduct of Gioberti toward the sovereign pontiff,\nthat we have no sympathy with his hatred of the Jesuits, and condemn\nevery thing in his works which the Holy See intended to censure when\nthey were placed on the Index. Nevertheless, as F. Perrone has had\nthe generosity to place his name on the list of illustrious Catholic\nwriters, we do not think it improper to give him credit for the\ngenius he undoubtedly possessed, or the true and elevated teachings\nwhich his works may contain. Even if the worst things said against\nhim be true, there is no reason why we should not make use of every\nthing good in his works, as we do in those of Tertullian, Photius,\nand the Port Royal divines.\n\nIn conclusion, we recommend and applaud F. Rami\u00e8re's essay as a\nspecimen of that kind of discussion which he so strongly advocates,\nwith the most ardent sympathy in his desire that sound philosophy\nmay go hand in hand with theology, to deliver the world from the\ndestructive influence of scepticism, sophistry, and every species of\nerror.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    GUYOT'S GEOGRAPHICAL SERIES. By Professor Arnold Guyot. New\n    York: Charles Scribner & Co.\n\nSince Humboldt gave his scientific facts to the world, and Ritter\ngeneralized upon them, the study of geography has been converted from\nan exercise of the memory upon unrelated facts to a science whose\nlaws of mutual dependence of cause and effect hold good in common\nwith other physical sciences. But it has remained for the American\nmind to generalize the later scientific discoveries of Maury, Hugh\nMiller, Livingstone, Kane, and others, and, adding them to former\nachievements, give the results in the modern school geographies.\nThe very number of these text-books presented by aspiring authors\nand publishers to the public is an encouraging symptom to the lover\nof improvement in knowledge, though sadly annoying to the practical\nteacher, who is so frequently urged to change the text-books in the\nhands of his pupils.\n\nThe series before us is evidently the result of the profoundest\nresearch united to a practical knowledge of the best manner of\npresenting facts to young minds. None but an enthusiast in physical\nscience, a good expounder of original ideas, and a polished English\nscholar could have given so complete a series of text-books to our\nschools and teachers. The language in which the facts are presented\nis one of the chief recommendations of the books; for nothing\nmore certainly impresses itself upon the youthful mind than the\nlanguage of the text-books used in schools, affecting the habits\nof thought and expression in all after-life. With a view also to\nthe varied peoples among whom these books would be adopted, and\nin answer to the demands of the age and period, a world-wide and\ncatholic spirit seemed to animate the author when treating the\nsubject of the governments and religions of different sections and\npolitical divisions. Facts, as generally understood, are fairly\nstated. Opinions based upon those facts judiciously withheld. Some\nimprovements might be made in the execution of the maps, and also in\nthe text of the primary book, the style of which is weak and careless\ncompared with the rest of the series. But the illustrations, and\nprint, and style of getting up are equal, if not superior, to any\nbooks of the kind published.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    STATUTES OF THE SECOND SYNOD OF THE DIOCESE OF ALBANY. 1869.\n    Troy: Scribner & Co. Received from P. J. Dooley, 182 River\n    street, Troy.\n\nWe have read this beautifully printed document with great pleasure,\nand we will cite several of the statutes, which have in our opinion\na special importance, giving, however, only their import in our own\nlanguage, without quoting _verbatim_ the Latin text, which is easily\naccessible to those who are interested in ecclesiastical matters.\n\n1. Confessors and pastors are commanded to teach their spiritual\nchildren the evil and danger of attending the sermons and religious\nexercises of sectarians, and not to permit it under any pretext.\n\n2. The faithful, especially heads of families, are admonished to\nexclude non-Catholic versions of the Bible, and all kinds of noxious\nbooks and papers, from their houses, and to make use of good and\nCatholic books and periodicals.\n\n3. All who are concerned in the publication of books relating to\nreligion and the divine worship are admonished not to venture to\npublish any thing without the license of the ordinary. The desire is\nalso expressed that clergymen will not publish any thing whatever\nwithout the previous consent of the bishop. It is announced that\nseveral members of the episcopal council will be designated as\ncensors of books. In the recent bull of Pope Pius IX., abrogating all\nprevious laws inflicting the censure of excommunication reserved to\nthe pope, and promulgating anew the causes of incurring this censure,\nthe authors and publishers of books _de rebus sacris_, who put forth\nsuch books without the permission of the ordinary, are declared\nto incur the censure of excommunication _lat\u00e6 sententi\u00e6_. It is,\ntherefore, of the utmost importance that regulations should be made\nand published in every diocese, prescribing to authors and publishers\nthe conditions under which the ordinary permits the publication\nof books _de rebus sacris_, and the Bishop of Albany has given an\nexcellent example, which we hope will be universally followed.\n\n4. The faithful are to be seasonably exhorted to sustain the\nsovereign pontiff in maintaining his temporal authority by their\ncontributions.\n\n5. Pastors are earnestly exhorted to use earnest efforts to extirpate\nthe vice of intemperance, which is the cause of such immense scandals.\n\n6. The necessity of sustaining Catholic schools, and the dangers\nof theatrical exhibitions, immodest dances, and festive amusements\nor exhibitions intended for the benefit of pious causes, such as\npicnics, fairs, and excursions, are noticed.\n\n7. Priests will be subjected to an annual examination _in scriptis_,\nbefore theological examiners, during the first five years after their\nordination.\n\n8. The faithful are to be sedulously warned and exhorted not to\ncontract mixed marriages.\n\nThese are only a few of the great number of excellent statutes,\nentirely in accordance with the decrees of general councils, the\nplenary and provincial councils of the United States, and the decrees\nof the Apostolic See, enacted by this admirable synod, which is\nindeed worthy of the best days of the church.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    THE SUN. By Anedee Guillemin. From the French, by A. L.\n    Phipson, Ph.D. With fifty-eight illustrations.\n\n    WONDERS OF GLASS-MAKING IN ALL AGES. By A. Sanzay. Illustrated\n    with sixty-three engravings on wood.\n\n    THE SUBLIME IN NATURE; compiled from the descriptions of\n    travellers and celebrated writers. By Ferdinand de Lanoye; with\n    large additions. New York: Charles Scribner & Co. 1870.\n\nThe above are the titles of three beautiful volumes, the latest\nadditions to the \"Illustrated Library of Wonders,\" now being\npublished by Messrs. Scribner. These little books must prove highly\ninteresting, especially to the young, and are very well adapted for\npremiums. The illustrations are well executed, and give additional\nvalue to the books.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    NATURAL HISTORY OF ANIMALS. By Sanborn Tenney and Alby A.\n    Tenney. Illustrated by five hundred wood engravings, chiefly of\n    North American animals. New York: Charles Scribner & Co. 1870.\n\nA very useful book, well adapted to aid parents and teachers in\ninteresting the young in the delightful and important study of\nnatural history.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    DIALOGUES FROM DICKENS. For School and Home Amusement. Arranged\n    by W. Eliot Fette, A.M. Boston: Lee & Shepard.\n\nThe dialogues contained in this volume have been selected for\nthe most part, and we think very judiciously, with a view to\nthorough, unalloyed amusement. There are, doubtless, other portions\nof Dickens's works no less characteristic, full of tenderness and\npathos, over which we fain would linger, and to which we gladly\nreturn again and again; these, however, we prefer to peruse alone,\nand at leisure. But for an evening's entertainment in company,\ncommend us to the good fellowship the compiler has here selected for\nus--the Wellers, Dick Swiveller, Bob Sawyer, Mark Tapley, Sairey\nGamp, etc., etc.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nBOOKS RECEIVED.\n\n    From PATRICK DONOHUE, Boston: The Charlestown Convent; its\n    Destruction by a Mob, on the night of August 11th, 1834; with a\n    history of the excitement before the burning, and the strange\n    and exaggerated reports relating thereto; the feeling of regret\n    and indignation afterward; the proceedings of meetings, and\n    expressions of the contemporary press. Also, the Trials of\n    the Rioters, the testimony, and the speeches of counsel; with\n    a review of the incidents, and sketches and record of the\n    principal actors; and a contemporary appendix. Compiled from\n    authentic sources. Pamphlet: Price, 30 cents.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nCORRIGENDA.\n\n    In our last number, the English translation of the _Stabat\n    Mater_ was ascribed to our unknown correspondent, G. J. G., at\n    whose request it was published. A note since received from the\n    same correspondent informs us that G. J. G. is not the author,\n    as we inferred incorrectly from his previous communication, but\n    some other person unknown to him.\n\n    Two errors were also inadvertently passed over in the article\n    in reply to _The New Englander_. The first was the omission of\n    Baden and Bavaria from the table at the top of page 112. The\n    populations of these countries in millions are, respectively,\n    Protestant, 0.47; and 1.23; Catholic, 0.93 and 3.18, and their\n    rates 16.2 and 22.5, as given in the previous tables. The\n    addition of these would increase the Catholic average more than\n    the Protestant; but the second error, namely, a wrong placing\n    of the decimal point in the product for Sweden and Norway, when\n    corrected, more than compensates for this, making the true\n    result of this table--\n\n    Protestant                         9.5\n    Catholic                           7.9\n\n    The sums of the Catholic and Protestant populations in the\n    above cases, as in others also, do not exactly equal the totals\n    elsewhere given, on account of the difference of date between\n    the latest censuses available, as well as the existence of\n    other religious bodies.\n\n    A review of _Janus_, which we had expected to publish in our\n    last number, but which was delayed by the illness of the\n    writer, will be given in our next. We are also expecting to\n    receive soon the English translation of Dr. Hergenroether's\n    _Anti-Janus_, by Mr. Robertson.\n\n\n\n\nTHE\n\nCATHOLIC WORLD.\n\nVOL. XI., No. 63.--JUNE, 1870.\n\n\nMR. FROUDE'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND.[52]\n\n\nIf we accept general encomium and popular demand as criteria of\nexcellence, it is evident that Mr. Froude must be the first historian\nof the period. That, with a vivid pen, he possesses a style at\nonce clear and graphic; that his fulness of knowledge and skill\nin description are exceptional; that his phrase is brilliant, his\nanalysis keen, and that with ease and spirit, grace and energy,\npictorial and passionate power, he combines consummate art in imagery\nand diction, we have been told so often and by so many writers that\nit would seem churlish not to accord him very high merit. Then, too,\nMr. Froude is very much in earnest. Whatever he does he does with\nall his might, and in his enthusiasm often fairly carries his reader\nalong with him.\n\nBut, in common with those who seek, not literary excitement, but the\nfacts of history, we go at once to the vital question, Is the work\ntruthful? Is it impartial? If not, its author's gifts are perverted,\nhis attainments abused, and their fruits, so bright and attractive\nto the eye, are filled with ashes.\n\nImpartial! Difficult indeed, is the attainment of that admirable\nequilibrium of judgment which secures perfect fairness of decision,\nand whose essential condition precedent is the thorough elimination\nof personal preference and party prejudice. And here is the serious\nobstacle in writing a history of England; for there are few, very\nfew, of the great historical questions of the sixteenth century that\nhave not left to us living men of to-day a large legacy of hopes,\ndoubts, and prejudices--nowhere so full of vitality as in England,\nand in countries of English tongue. Not that we mean to limit such\na difficulty to one nation or to one period; for it is not certain\nthat we free ourselves from the spell of prejudice by taking refuge\nin a more remote age. It might be thought that, in proportion as we\ngo back toward antiquity, leaving behind us to-day's interests, the\nhistorian's impartiality would become perfect. And yet, there are\nfew writers of whom even this is true. Reverting historically to the\ncradle of Christianity, it cannot be asserted of Gibbon.\n\nNor can it be said even of modern historians of nations long extinct,\nin common with which one might suppose the people of this century\nhad not a single prejudice. Take, for instance, all the English\nhistorians of ancient Greece, whose works (that of Grote being an\nhonorable exception) are so many political pamphlets arguing for\noligarchy against democracy, elevating Sparta at the sacrifice of\nAthens, and thrusting at a modern republic through the greatest of\nthe Hellenic commonwealths. If Merivale is thought to treat Roman\nhistory with impartiality, the same cannot be said of many modern\nEuropean writers, who, disguising modern politics in the ancient\ntoga and helmet, cannot discuss the Roman imperial period without\nattacking the C\u00e6sars of Paris, St. Petersburg, and Berlin.\n\nThe great religious questions which agitated England in the sixteenth\ncentury are not dead. They still live, and for the Anglican, the\nPuritan, and the Catholic have all the deep interest of a family\nhistory. It might, therefore, be unreasonable to demand from Mr.\nFroude a greater degree of dispassionate inquiry and calm treatment\nof subjects that were \"burning questions\" in the days of Henry and\nElizabeth, than we find in Milman and Gillies, when they discuss the\npolitical life of Athens and Laced\u00e6mon. So far from exacting it, we\nshould be disposed to be most liberal in the allowance of even a\nstrongly expressed bias. But after granting all this, and even more,\nwe might yet not unreasonably demand a system which is not a paradox,\na show at least of fairness, and a due regard for the proprieties of\nhistorical treatment.\n\nMr. Froude's first four volumes present the history of half the\nreign of Henry VIII., a prince \"chosen by Providence to conduct the\nReformation,\" and abolish the iniquities of the papal system.\n\nThe historical Tudor king known of all men before the advent of\nMr. Froude with his modern appliances of hero-worship and muscular\nChristianity, \"melted so completely\" in our new historian's hands\nthat his despotism, persecution, diplomatic assassinations,\nconfiscations, divorces, legalized murders, bloody vagrancy laws,\ntyranny over conscience, and the blasphemous assumption of spiritual\nsupremacy are made to appear as the praiseworthy measures of an\nascetic monarch striving to regenerate his country and save the world.\n\nThere was such a sublimity of impudence in a paradox presented with\nso much apparently sincere vehemence that most readers were struck\nwith dumb astonishment. A fascinated few declared the deodorized\ninfamy perfectly pure. Some, pleased with pretty writing, were\ndelighted with poetic passages about \"daisies,\" and \"destiny,\" \"wild\nspirits\" and \"August suns\" that \"shone in autumn.\" Many liked its\nnovelty, some admired its daring, and some there were who looked upon\nthe thing as an enormous joke. All these formed the great body of\nreaders.\n\nOthers there were, though, who declined to accept results which\nwere violations of morality, and verdicts against evidence obtained\nby systematic vilification of some of the best, and the elevation\nof some of the worst men who ever lived, and by a blind idolatry\nincapable of discerning flaw or stain in the unworthy object\nof its worship; who saw Mr. Froude's multifarious ignorance of\nmatters essential for a historian to know, and his total want of\nthat judicial quality of mind, without which no one, even though\npossessed of all knowledge, can ever be an historian. They resolved\nthat such an historical system as this was a nuisance to be abated,\nand that the new and unworthy man-worship should be put an end to.\nAccordingly the idol was smashed;[53] and in the process, the idol's\nhistorian left so badly damaged as to render his future availability\nhighly problematical.\n\nThe Scotch treatment was of instant efficacy; for we find Mr. Froude\ncoming to his work on the fifth volume in chastened frame of mind\nand an evidently corrected demeanor. He narrates the reigns of Mary\nand Edward VI. with style and tone subdued, and in what musicians\ndesignate as _tempo moderato_.\n\nWith the seventh volume we reach the accession of Queen Elizabeth.\nWe opened it with some curiosity; for it was understood from Mr.\nFroude, at the outset of his historical career, that he intended to\npresent Elizabeth as \"a great nature destined to remould the world,\"\nand that he was prepared to visit with something like astonishment\nand unknown pangs all who should dare question the immaculate purity\nof her virtue. It is not improbable that the contemplation of the\nstrewn and broken fragments of the paternal idol materially modified\nthis purpose--a change on which Mr. Froude must more than once have\nfervently congratulated himself as he gradually penetrated deeper\ninto the treasures of the State paper collections, and stared with\nstiffened jaw at the astounding revelations of Simancas.\n\nWe need not wonder that the historian altered his programme; and\nthat instead of going on to the \"death of Elizabeth,\" to record the\nhorrors of that most horrible of death-bed scenes, he should close\nhis work with the wreck of the Spanish Armada.\n\nThe researches of our American historian, Motley, were terribly\ndamaging to Elizabeth; and in the preparation of his seventh volume,\nMr. Froude comes upon discoveries so fatal to her that he is\nevidently glad to drop his showy narrative and fill his pages with\nletters of the Spanish ambassador, who gives simple but wonderfully\nvivid pictures of scenes at the English court.\n\nFuture historians will doubtless take heed how they associate with\nthe reputation of the sovereign any glory they may claim for England\nunder Elizabeth, remembering that she was ready to marry Leicester\nnotwithstanding her strong suspicion, too probably assurance, of his\ncrime, (Amy Robsart's murder,) and that in the language of one of Mr.\nFroude's English critics, \"She was thus in the eye of heaven, which\njudges by the intent and not the act, nearer than Englishmen would\nlike to believe to the guilt of an adulteress and a murderess.\"\n\nBut Mr. Froude plucks up courage, and, true to his first love, while\nappearing to handle Elizabeth with cruel condemnation, treats her\nwith real kindness.\n\nWe have all heard of Alcibiades and his dog, and of what befell\nthat animal. Mr. Froude assumes an air of stern severity for those\nfaults of Elizabeth for which concealment is out of the question--her\nmean parsimony, her insincerity, her cruelty, her matchless\nmendacity--while industriously concealing or artistically draping her\nmore repulsive offences.\n\nBut we have not started out to treat Mr. Froude's work as a whole.\nA chorus of repudiation from the most opposite schools of criticism\nhas so effectually covered his attempted apotheosis of a bad man\nwith ridicule and contempt that no further remark need be made on\nthat subject. As to Elizabeth, the less said the better, if we are\nfriendly to her memory.\n\nCareful perusal of Mr. Froude's first six volumes will convince any\ncompetent judge that he is not a historian, but, as yet, only in\ntraining to become one. He plunged into a great historical subject\nwithout the requisite knowledge or the necessary preparation. In\nhis earlier volumes his very defective knowledge of all history\nbefore the sixteenth century led him into the most grotesque\nblunders--errors in general and in details, in geography,\njurisprudence, titles, offices, and military affairs. So far from\nmeriting the compliment paid him, of accurate knowledge, acquired in\nthe \"course of his devious theological career,\" of the tenets and\npeculiar observances of the leading religious sects, it is precisely\nin such matters that he seriously fails in accuracy.\n\nWith a half-grasp of his material, Mr. Froude totally fails to make\nit up into an interesting consecutive narrative. He lacks, too,\nthe all-important power of generalization, and, as has been aptly\nremarked, handles a microscope skilfully, but is apparently unable\nto see through a telescope. Heroic and muscular, his over haste to\nproduce some startling result came near wrecking him in the morning\nof his career.\n\nWhile his work was in course of publication, our historian wrote from\nSimancas a sensational article for _Fraser's Magazine_, in which he\nannounced some astounding historical discoveries, which only a few\nweeks later he was only too glad to recall. The trouble was that\nhe had totally misunderstood the Spanish documents on which his\ndiscovery was grounded.\n\nAlong with his apparent incapacity for sound and impartial judgment,\nthere is an evident inability in Mr. Froude to distinguish the\nrelative value of different state papers, and the most striking proof\nthat he is still in his apprenticeship as a writer of history, is\nhis indiscriminate acceptance of written authorities of a certain\nclass. Historical results long since settled by the unanimous\ntestimony of Camden, Carte, and Lingard, the three great English\nhistorians of the seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth centuries\nrespectively, are thrust aside by Mr. Froude and made to give way\nto some MS. of doubtful value or questionable authenticity. The\nterm \"original document\" magically invests every writing falling\ninto his hands with all the attributes of truth. When he finds a\npaper three hundred years old, he gives it speech and sets it up as\nan oracle. Nor can the simile be arrested here; for, treating his\noracle with the tyrannic familiarity of a heathen priest, the paper\nMumbo Jumbo must speak as ordered, or else be sadly cuffed. It is a\npuerile idea to imagine that when the historian has found a mass of\noriginal historical papers, his labor of investigation is ended, and\nhe has but to transcribe, to put his personages on the stage, let\nthem act and declaim as these writings relate, and thus place before\nthe reader the truthful portrait of bygone times. Far from it. It\nis at this point that his work really begins. He must ascertain by\ncomparison, by sifting of evidence, by many precautions, who lies and\nwho speaks truth. In matters of Elizabethan diplomacy, for instance,\nthe truth floats not on the surface. A royal dispatch gives orders,\nbut it does not give motives. And even if the motives are stated, is\nit certain they are truly stated? A minister is explicit as to what\nhe wishes done; but he does not say why he wants it done, nor what\nresults he looks for. Cases numberless will suggest themselves as to\nthe difficulties of such documents. Very few of these difficulties\nhave any terrors for Mr. Froude. Commencing his investigation with\nhis theory perfected, it is with him a mere choice of papers. Swift\nis the fate of facts not suiting his theory. So much the worse for\nthem, if they are not what he would have them to be; they are cast\nforth into outer darkness.\n\nMr. Froude has fine perceptive and imaginative faculties--admirable\ngifts for literature, but not for history. Precious, if history\ndepended on fiction, not on fact. Invaluable, if historic truth\nwere subjective. Above all price, where the literary artist has the\nprivilege of evolving from the inner depths of his own consciousness\nthe virtues or the vices wherewith it suits him to endow his\ncharacters. But alas! otherwise utterly fatal, because historic truth\nis eminently objective.\n\nIt is well said that to be a good historical student, a man should\nnot find it in him to desire that any historical fact should be\notherwise than it is. Now, we cannot consent to a lower standard in\nlogic and morality for the historian than for the student; and thus\ntesting Mr. Froude, it is not pleasant to contemplate his sentence\nwhen judged by stern votaries of truth. For we have a well-grounded\nbelief that not only is it possible for Mr. Froude to desire an\nhistorical fact to be otherwise than it is, but that he is capable\nof carrying that desire into effect. It is idle to talk of the\njudicial quality of an historian who scarcely puts on a semblance of\nimpartiality.\n\nIn matters of state, Mr. Froude is a pamphleteer; in personal\nquestions he is an advocate. He holds a brief for Henry. He holds a\nbrief against Mary Stuart. He is the most effective of advocates,\nfor he fairly throws himself into his case. He is the friend or the\nenemy of all the personages in his history. Their failure and their\nsuccess affect his spirits and his style. He rejoices with them or\nweeps with them. There are some whose misfortunes uniformly make\nhim sad. There are others over whose calamities he becomes radiant.\nHe has no unerring standard of justice, no ethical principle which\nestimates actions as they are in themselves, and not in the light of\nsympathy or repulsion.\n\nIt must be admitted, nevertheless, that Mr. Froude makes up an\nattractive-looking page. Foot-notes and citations in quantity,\nimposing capitals and inverted commas, like little flags gayly\nflying, all combine to give it a typographical vivacity truly\ncharming. Great as are his rhetorical resources, he does not despise\nthe cunning devices of print. Quotation-marks are usually supposed\nto convey to the reader the conventional assurance that they include\nthe precise words of the text. But Mr. Froude's system is not so\ncommonplace. He inserts therein language of his own, and in all these\ncases his use of authorities is not only dangerous but deceptive.\nHe has a way of placing some of the actual words of a document in\nhis narrative in such a manner as totally to pervert their sense.\nThe historian who truthfully condenses a page into a paragraph saves\nlabor for the reader; but Mr. Froude has a trick of giving long\npassages in quotation-marks without sign of alteration or omission,\nwhich we may or may not discover from a note to be \"abridged.\"\n\nOther objectionable manipulations of Mr. Froude are the joining\ntogether of two distinct passages of a document, and entirely\nchanging their original sense; the connection of two phrases from two\ndifferent authorities and connecting them as one; and the tacking of\nirresponsible or anonymous authorities to one that is responsible,\nconcealing the first, and avowing the last.\n\nThen his texts, and the rapid boldness with which he disposes of\nthem; cutting, trimming, clipping, provided only that he produce an\nanimated dialogue or picturesque effect which may cause the reader to\nexclaim, \"How beautifully Mr. Froude writes!\" \"What a painter!\" \"His\nbook is as interesting as a novel!\" And so it is; for the excellent\nreason that it is written precisely as novels are written, and mainly\ndepends for its interest upon the study of motives. A superior\nnovelist brings characters before us in startling naturalness--his\ntreatment, of course, being subjective, not objective; arbitrary, not\nhistorical. Mr. Froude, with his great skill in depicting individual\ncharacter and particular events, follows the novel-writer's method,\nand may be said to be the originator of what we may designate as the\n\"psychological school\" of history. This power gives him an immense\nadvantage over all other historians.\n\nWhile they are burning the midnight lamp in the endeavor to detect\nthe springs of action by the study of every thing that can throw\nlight upon the action itself, he has only to look through the window\nwhich, like unto other novelists, he has constructed in the bosom of\nevery one of his characters, to show us their most secret thoughts\nand aspirations. One may open any of Mr. Froude's volumes at random\nand find an exemplification of what is here stated. Here is one:\n\n    \"It was not thus that Mary Stuart had hoped to meet her\n    brother. His head sent home from the border, or himself brought\n    back a living prisoner, with the dungeon, the scaffold, and\n    the bloody axe--these were the images which a few weeks or\n    days before she had associated with the next appearance of her\n    father's son. Her feelings had undergone no change; she hated\n    him with the hate of hell; but the more deep-set passion paled\n    for the moment before a thirst for revenge.\" (Vol. viii. p.\n    267.)\n\nHere are depicted the tumultuous workings of a wicked heart; its\nhopes, fears, passions--nay, even the very images that float\nbefore the mind's eye. And this Mr. Froude asks us to accept for\nhistory--ascertained fact.\n\nOur historian takes unprecedented liberties with texts and citations.\nNow he totally ignores what a given person says on an important\noccasion. Now he puts a speech of his own into the mouth of the same\ncharacter. Passages cited from certain documents cannot be found\nthere, and other documents referred to have no existence. In a word,\nMr. Froude trifles with his readers and plays with his authorities,\nas some people play with cards.\n\nThere are not many passages of Mr. Froude's work free from some one\nof these serious objections. To specify them would require at least\nas much matter as he uses; for he offends as often in suppression as\nin assertion. Nevertheless, to the extent of our limited space we\nwill point out a few, and as Mr. Froude's early volumes have been so\namply commented upon, we will confine our examination to the latter\nhalf of the work, with special reference to his treatment of\n\n\nMARY STUART.\n\nMost historians begin at the beginning. But our latest historical\nschool has resources heretofore unknown, and quietly anticipates that\nordinary point of departure. Mary Stuart is formally brought on to\nMr. Froude's historical stage in the middle of the seventh volume,\nand the reader might be supposed to take up her story without a\nsingle preconceived opinion. Doubtless, the average reader does so\ntake it up, unsuspicious of the fact that his judgment is already\nfettered and led captive. In volume iv. p. 208, Mary of Guise is\ndescribed as lifting her baby out of the cradle, in order that Sir\nRalph Sadlier \"might admire its health and loveliness.\"\n\n    \"Alas! for the child,\" says Mr. Froude; \"born in sorrow and\n    nurtured in treachery! It grew to be Mary Stuart; and Sir Ralph\n    Sadlier lived to sit on the commission which investigated the\n    murder of Darnley.\"\n\nThere is nothing very startling in this. The reader's mind absorbs\nthe statement, and goes on. In the next volume, (vol. v. p. 57,)\nwhile deeply interested in the military operations of the Duke of\nSomerset, we are told _en passant_:\n\n    \"Thursday he again advanced over the ground where, fourteen\n    years later, Mary Stuart, the object of his enterprise,\n    practiced archery with Bothwell ten days after her husband's\n    murder.\"\n\nConsummately artistic!\n\nThe reader has not yet reached Mary Stuart; her history is not yet\ncommenced; he supposes his mind, as regards her, to be a mere blank\npage, and yet our historian has already contrived to inscribe upon\nthe blank page two facts, namely, she was the murderess of Darnley,\nand she was guilty of adultery with Bothwell. No evidence has been\noffered, no argument presented. With graceful and almost careless\n_disinvoltura_, Mr. Froude has merely alluded to two incidents,\none of which is a fable, and lo! the case against Mary Stuart is\ncomplete. For these are the two great accusations upon which the\nentire controversy hinges, a controversy that has raged for three\ncenturies. Very clever! Very clever indeed!\n\nGive but slight attention to Mr. Froude's system and you will find\nthat his treatment of the historical characters he dislikes is after\nthe recipe of Figaro: \"Calomniez, calomniez, il en reste toujours\nquelque chose;\" and that under the sentimentality of his \"summer\nseas,\" \"pleasant mountain breezes,\" \"murmuring streams,\" \"autumnal\nsuns,\" patriotic longings, and pious reveries, there is a vein of\npersistent and industrious cunning much resembling that of Mr. Harold\nSkimpole, who is a perfect child in all matters concerning money,\nwho knows nothing of its value, who \"loves to see the sunshine,\nloves to hear the wind blow; loves to watch the changing lights and\nshadows; loves to hear the birds, those choristers in nature's great\ncathedral\"--but, meantime, keeps a sharp look-out for the main chance.\n\nIndirection and insinuation are effective weapons never out of Mr.\nFroude's hands. In an allusion or remark, dropped apparently in the\nmost careless manner, he will, as we see, lay the foundation of a\nsystem of attack one or two volumes off and many years in historical\nadvance of his objective point. In like manner, at page 272, vol.\ni., we are told \"three years later, when the stake recommenced its\nhateful activity under the auspices of Sir Thomas More's fanaticism.\"\nThus the way is prepared for the accusation of personal cruelty,\nwhich Mr. Froude strives, in vol. ii., to lay at More's door.\nMore's greatness and beautiful elevation of character are evidently\nunpleasant subjects for our historian, and he grudgingly yields him\na credit which he seeks to sweep away in the charge of religious\npersecution, specifying four particular cases: those of Philipps,\nField, Bilney, and Bainham.\n\nThese cases have been taken up _seriatim_ by a competent critic, (the\nreader curious to see them may consult the appendix to the October\nnumber _Edinburgh Review_ 1858,) who demonstrates that Mr. Froude's\npretended authorities do _not_ tell the story he undertakes to put\nin their mouth, and that he is guilty of such perversions as are\nexceedingly damaging to his reputation.\n\nIn introducing Mary Stuart, Mr. Froude vouchsafes no information\nwhatever concerning her mind, manners, disposition, or education.\nIt is certainly desirable to know something of the early years and\nmental development of a character destined to fill so prominent a\npart in the great events of the period, and to become one of the most\ninteresting personages in history. She is thus presented: \"She was\nnot yet nineteen years old; but mind and body had matured amidst the\nscenes in which she passed her girlhood.\" (Vol. vii. p. 268.) This\nis at once a very remarkable statement and a mild specimen of Mr.\nFroude's command of ambiguous language. Very close and philosophical\nobservers have, we think, already noticed the phenomenon indicated;\nand although it might not at once occur to every one that young girls\nusually mature amidst the scenes of their girlhood, yet it was hardly\nworth the effort of a philosophic historian to give us information so\ntrite. But we suspect Mr. Froude of a deeper meaning, namely, that\nmind and body were then--at eighteen years--matured, and had attained\ntheir full growth. It means that, or it is mere twaddle.\n\nThus, we are to understand that Mary Stuart, at the tender age of\neighteen, was abnormal and monstrous.\n\nMr. Froude drives his entering wedge so noiselessly that you are\nscarce aware of it, and in the development of the story he strains\nall his faculties to paint the Queen of Scots, not only as the worst\nand most abandoned of women, but as absolutely destitute of human\nsemblance in her superhuman wickedness. That such is the effect of\nhis portraiture, is well expressed by an English critic--a friend\nof Mr. Froude, but not of Mary: \"A being so earthly, sensual, and\ndevilish seems almost beyond the proportions of human nature.\"\n(London _Times_, September 26th, 1866.)\n\nMr. Froude then gives us a portrait of the young Scottish queen, in\nwhich he says, \"In the deeper and nobler emotions she had neither\nshare nor sympathy;\" and herein, Mr. Froude explains, \"lay the\ndifference between the Queen of Scots and Elizabeth.\" Again we must\nregret that our author has told us nothing of Mary Stuart's youth, so\nthat we might judge this matter for ourselves. Her life in France was\nby no means devoid of interest. She was admired and beloved by all.\nShe had reigned there as queen, and young as she was, her opinions\nwere respected in high councils.\n\nThrockmorton, a clever and experienced diplomatist, was near Mary in\nFrance, for many years, and, with the fullest means of information,\nadvised Elizabeth day by day concerning her. She is the subject of\nscores of his dispatches, with none of which, however, are we favored\nby Mr. Froude. Throckmorton thus announces to Cecil Mary's condition\nafter the death of King Francis:\n\n    \"He departed to God, leaving as heavy and dolorous a wife as\n    of good right she had reason to be, who, by long watching with\n    him during his sickness, and by painful diligence about him,\n    especially the issue thereof, is not in the best time of her\n    body, but without danger.\"\n\nBut Mr. Froude, who is ready to reveal for our entertainment the\ninmost thoughts of this \"dolorous wife,\" enlightens us with the sole\ninformation that \"Mary was speculating before the body was cold on\nher next choice.\" Throckmorton, all unconscious of the annoyance he\nmust give a nineteenth century historian, again writes to Cecil:\n\n    \"Since her husband's death she hath shown, and so continueth,\n    that she is of great wisdom for her years, modesty, and also of\n    great judgment in the wise handling herself and her matters,\n    which, increasing in her with her years, cannot but turn to\n    her commendation, reputation, honor, and great profit to her\n    country.\"\n\nHe continues:\n\n    \"I see her behavior to be such, and her wisdom and queenly\n    modesty so great, in that she thinketh herself not too wise,\n    but is content to be ruled by good counsel and wise men.\"\n\nAs a general rule, Mr. Froude is not economical of \"birth, parentage,\nand education\" essays. Yet, while managing to bestow them on very\nsecondary personages, he has none for Mary Stuart. Latimer and John\nKnox are favored in this respect, and even to the bastard son of\nHenry VIII.--\"the young Marcellus,\" as Mr. Froude proudly calls\nhim--are devoted nearly three full pages of gushing enthusiasm\nconcerning his youthful dispositions and early studies. He was, alas!\n\"illegitimate, unfortunately;\" \"_but_ of beauty and noble promise.\"\n(Vol. i. 364-6.)\n\nSoon we see the resources of the psychological school. Mr. Froude\ninforms us (vol. vii. p. 369) that Mary was going to Scotland \"to\nuse her charms as a spell;\" \"to weave the fibres of a conspiracy;\"\nto \"hide her purpose until the moment came,\" and \"with a purpose as\nfixed as the stars to trample down the reformation.\"\n\nHad it been possible for Mr. Froude to produce one word of testimony\nfrom France concerning Mary Stuart's youth that was not of respect,\npraise, and admiration, from friend or foe, he surely would not have\nfailed to cite it.\n\nIn this dilemma, he quotes Randolph, (vol. vii. p. 369,) to show \"her\ncraft and deceit;\" adding, \"Such was Mary Stuart when, on the 14th of\nAugust, she embarked for Scotland.\"\n\nBut Randolph at that time had never seen Mary Stuart, and the date\nof his letter cited by Mr. Froude is _October_ 27th. Under these\ncircumstances it becomes interesting to know what Randolph's opinion\nof Mary really was before she left France. Randolph writes to Cecil,\n_August_ 9th, referring to Mary's preparations for departure, \"That\nwill be a stout adventure for a sick, _crazed_ woman.\"\n\nEven for a sea voyage, Mr. Froude continues to prefer a microscope\nto a telescope. The consequence is, that out of an escort of Mary's\nthree uncles, all her ladies, including the four Marys, more than\na hundred French noblemen, the Mareschal d'Amville, Brant\u00f4me the\nhistorian, and other distinguished men, a doctor of theology, two\nphysicians, and all her household retinue, he can discern no one but\nChatelar, who was, as a retainer of d'Amville, in that nobleman's\nsuite. And so we read, \"With adieu, belle France, sentimental verses,\nand a passionate Chatelar sighing at her feet in melodious music,\nshe sailed away over the summer seas.\" Which we must in candor admit\nto be a sweetly pretty passage. But in the next paragraph Mr. Froude\nputs away sentimentality, means business, and throws a bright light\non a previous line: \"Elizabeth could feel like a man an unselfish\ninterest in a great cause.\" Here is the paragraph, it is admirable in\nevery respect.\n\n    \"The English fleet was on her track. There was no command\n    to arrest her; yet there was the thought that 'she might be\n    met withal;' and if the admiral had sent her ship with its\n    freight to the bottom of the North Sea, 'being done unknown,'\n    Elizabeth, and perhaps Catharine de' Medicis as well, 'would\n    have found it afterward well done.'\" (Vol. vii. p. 370.)\n\nOf course, it would have been \"well done;\" because \"in the deeper\nand nobler emotions Mary had neither share nor sympathy;\" whereas\nElizabeth and Catharine de' Medicis had.\n\nThe undisputed record of Mary's arrival in Edinburgh is, that her\nsurpassing beauty and charm of address, arising not so much from her\ncourtly training as her kindly heart, created a profound impression\non a people who already reverenced in her the daughter of a popular\nking, and of one of the noblest and best of women.\n\nMr. Froude thus renders this record: \"The dreaded harlot of Babylon\nseemed only a graceful and innocent girl.\" (Vol. vii. p. 374.) In\ncommon fairness, Mr. Froude should have given some adequate idea\nof the condition of the country this inexperienced young queen was\ncalled to rule. This he fails to do. It was such that the ablest\nsovereign, with full supply of money and of soldiers--and Mary Stuart\nhad neither--would have found its successful government almost\nimpossible. The power of the feudal aristocracy had declined in\nEurope everywhere but in Scotland; and everywhere but in Scotland\nroyal power had been increased. For centuries the Scottish kings had\nstriven to break down the power of the nobles, which overshadowed\nthat of the crown. One of the results of this struggle is quaintly\nrecorded in the opening entry of Birrel's _Diurnal of Occurrents_:\n\n\"_There has been in this realm of Scotland one hundred and five\nkings, of whilk there was slaine fyftie-six._\"\n\nAnother result was greater aristocratic power and increased anarchy.\nThe Scotch feudal nobles had never known what it was to be under\nthe rule of law, and there was as yet no middle class to aid the\nsovereign. Among their recognized practices and privileges were\nprivate war and armed conspiracy; and the established means of\nridding themselves of personal or public enemies was assassination.\nIn all history we find few bands of worse men than those who\nsurrounded the throne of Mary Stuart. Cruelty, treachery, and cunning\nwere their leading characteristics. Some of them were Protestants\nin their own peculiar way, and, as John Knox says, referring to the\ndisposition of the church lands, \"for their own commoditie.\"\n\nPersonally, they are thus described by Burton, the latest historian\nof Scotland, a bitter opponent of Mary Stuart:\n\n    \"Their dress was that of the camp or stable; they were dirty\n    in person, and abrupt and disrespectful in manner, carrying on\n    their disputes, and even fighting out their fierce quarrels, in\n    the presence of royalty.\"\n\nIn view of the picturesque statement that Mary Stuart went to\nScotland with a \"resolution as fixed as the stars to trample down\nthe Reformation,\" her first public acts are of great interest. Mr.\nFroude states them so imperfectly (vol. vii. p. 374) that they make\nbut slight impression. The friends of her mother and the Catholic\nnobles expected to be called into her councils. Instead of them, she\nselected the Lord James (her half-brother) and Maitland as her chief\nministers, with a large majority of Protestant lords in her council.\nShe threw herself upon the loyalty of her people, and issued a\nproclamation forbidding any attempt to interfere with the Protestant\nreligion which she found established in her realm. She did not plead,\nas Mr. Froude states, that she might have her own service in the\nroyal chapel, but claimed it as a right expressly guaranteed. \"The\nLord Lindsay might croak out texts that the idolater should die the\ndeath.\" (Vol. vii. p. 375.)\n\nThat was a truly energetic \"croak\"! Listen to it, (not in Froude.)\nWhen service in the queen's chapel was about to begin, Lindsay, clad\nin full armor and brandishing his sword, rushed forward shouting,\n\"The idolater priest shall die the death!\" The almoner fortunately,\nfor himself, heard the \"croak,\" took refuge, and after the service\nwas protected to his home by two lords; \"and then,\" says Knox, \"the\ngodly departed with great grief of heart.\"\n\nThe interview between Queen Mary and John Knox is narrated by Mr.\nFroude in such a manner as to tone down the coarseness of Knox's\nconduct, and lessen the brilliancy of the dialectic victory of\nthe young Scotch girl over the old priest and minister. She first\ninquired about his _Blast against the Regiment of Women_, in which he\ndeclares--\n\n    \"This monstriferous empire of women, among all the enormities\n    that do this day abound upon the face of the whole earth, is\n    most detestable and damnable. Even men subject to the counsel\n    or empire of their wives are unworthy of all public office.\"\n\nMr. Froude describes Knox as saying, \"Daniel and St. Paul.\" He ought\nto know that a Scotch Puritan could not have said _Saint_ Paul.\nMacaulay never makes such mistakes. \"Daniel and St. Paul were not\nof the religion of Nebuchadnezzar and Nero.\" (Vol. vii. p. 376.)\nIncorrect. Knox having first modestly likened himself unto Plato,\nthus states his own language:\n\n\"I shall be alse weall content to lyve under your grace as Paull was\nto lyve under Nero.\" It is hard to say which is greater, the man's\nvanity in comparing himself to St. Paul, or his intolerable insolence\nin likening, to her face, the young queen to the bloodiest of all\nRoman tyrants. William Cobbett, a writer of sturdy and unadulterated\nEnglish, in referring to some such performance as this on the part\nof Knox, calls him \"the Ruffian of the Reformation.\" We strongly\nsuspect, though, that Knox did not use language so gratuitously\noffensive. His account of the interview was written years afterward.\nHe was self-complacent and boastful, and in other places says that\nhe caused the queen to weep so bitterly that a page could scarce get\nher enough handkerchiefs to dry her eyes. Before Mary, Knox claimed\nthat Daniel and his fellows, although subjects to Nebuchadnezzar\nand to Darius, would not yet be of the religion of the one nor the\nother. Mary was ready with her answer, and retorted, \"Yea; but none\nof these men raised the sword against their princes.\" Mr. Froude, of\ncourse, reports this reply in such a manner as to spoil it; adding,\n\"But Knox answered merely that 'God had not given them the power.'\"\nNot so; for Knox strove by logical play, which he himself records, to\nshow that resistance and non-compliance were one and the same thing.\n\"Throughout the whole dialogue,\" says Burton, \"he does not yield the\nfaintest shred of liberty of conscience.\" But Mary kept him to his\ntext, repeating, \"But yet they resisted not with the sword.\" And\nthen, this young woman, who, Mr. Froude assures us, came to Scotland\nwith \"spells to weave conspiracies,\" \"to control herself and to hide\nher purpose,\" blunderingly tells Knox that she believed \"the Church\nof Rome was the true church of God.\"\n\nOne would think it no very difficult task for a man of age and\nexperience to see through an impulsive girl of nineteen, whose face\nmirrored her soul. And yet, Mr. Froude informs us triumphantly, three\nseparate times, that \"Knox had looked Mary through and through.\" In\nthis connection we have one of our historian's best efforts, to which\nwe ask special attention.\n\n    \"Knox had labored to save Murray from the spell which his\n    sister had flung over him; but Murray had only been angry at\n    his interference, and, 'they spake not familiarly for more\n    than a year and a half.'\" (Vol. vii. p. 542.)[54]\n\nPray notice the cause of this estrangement. Mr. Froude is very\nexplicit here. Look at it. This innocent Murray is under a spell.\nAll heart himself, he saw no guile in his sister. But Knox warned\nhim against the sorceress, _and that was the cause of the coolness\nbetween them_. On this point there can be no mistake, and we now\npropose to place John Knox on the stand and with his eyes to look\nMr. Froude \"through and through.\" In the parliament of 1563, Murray\nhad the \"Act of Oblivion\" passed, in which he managed to reserve\nfor himself and his friends the power to say who should or should\nnot profit by its provisions. With this act he was dangerous to all\nwho opposed him, and was consequently all-powerful. Under these\ncircumstances, John Knox pressed Murray, now that he had the power,\nto establish the religion, namely, pass in a constitutional manner\nthe informal act of 1560, and legalize the confession of faith as the\ndoctrine of the Church of Scotland.\n\nNow call the witness, John Knox:\n\n    \"But the erledom of Murray needed confirmation, and many things\n    were to be ratified that concerned the help of friends and\n    servants--and the matter fell so hote betwix the Erle of Murray\n    and John Knox, that familiarlie after that time they spack nott\n    together more than a year and a half.\"[55]\n\nThus, if we may believe Knox himself, it was Murray's preference for\nhis own \"singular commoditie\" over the interests of the kirk of God\nwhich caused that \"they spake not familiarly together for more than\na year and a half.\" Of \"spell\" and \"enchantress\" no word. We refrain\nfrom comment.\n\nOne remark as to the \"spell\" Mary had flung over Murray. Even\nfrom Mr. Froude's pages may be wrung the unwilling admission that\n\"the stainless Murray\" was neither more nor less than the paid and\npensioned spy of Elizabeth. Here is another dispatch of Throckmorton,\n(Elizabeth's ambassador at Paris,) _not_ referred to by Mr. Froude:\n\n    \"The Lord James came to my lodgings _secretly unto me_, and\n    declared unto me at good length all that had passed between the\n    queen, his sister, and him, and between the Cardinal Lorraine\n    and him, the circumstances whereof he will declare to your\n    majesty particularly when he cometh to your presence.\"\n\nThis business call of Lord James was made during Mary's preparations\nto leave France for Scotland. He followed it up with a confidential\nvisit of some days to Elizabeth, who allowed him not to depart\nempty-handed. Unsuspicious of his treachery, Mary heaped honors and\nriches upon him, made him her first lord of council, and created him\nsuccessively Earl of Mar and Earl of Murray. And we are asked by Mr.\nFroude to believe that over such a personage as this \"spells\" might\nbe successfully flung by the victim of his treachery.\n\n\nTHE MURDER OF RICCIO.\n\nThe introduction of Riccio by Mr. Froude (vol. viii. p. 120) is a\ngood specimen of his best art. There is an accusation in every line,\nan insinuation in every word; yet when he is through, the reader is\nleft in total ignorance of the Italian's real position. Mr. Froude\ncalls him Ritzio, which is a piece of affectation. The name has\nheretofore been written Rizzio and Riccio. Ritzio, to the English\neye, it is true, very nearly represents the Italian pronunciation\nof Rizzio. The man's name was Riccio, as is well determined by one\nletter of his, and two of his brother Joseph, all still in existence\nand perfectly accessible to Mr. Froude.\n\nHis age, variously stated from thirty to forty, is never put at less\nthan thirty. Mr. Froude gives no figure, and calls him \"the youth;\"\nby which you may, if you choose, understand eighteen or twenty. His\nreal employment is concealed, and at p. 247, vol. viii., he is called\n\"a wandering musician.\" Riccio was a man of solid acquirements,\nable and accomplished. He succeeded to the post formerly held by\nRaulet--that of secretary for the queen's French correspondence--and\nwas thoroughly versed in the languages as well as in the troubled\npolitics of the day. He was, moreover, devotedly loyal, and inspired\nMary with entire confidence in his integrity. Sir Walter Scott\n(_History of Scotland_) says that a person like him, \"skilled in\nlanguages and in business,\" was essential to the queen, and adds,\n\"No such agent was likely to be found in Scotland, unless she had\nchosen a Catholic priest, which would have given more offence to her\nProtestant subjects,\" etc.\n\n\"The queen,\" says Knox, \"usit him for secretary in things that\nappertainit to her secret affairs in France and elsewhere.\"\n\n\"That he was old, deformed, and strikingly ugly, has been generally\naccepted by historians,\" says Burton.\n\nHaving, it appears, no access to these three Scotch historians, Mr.\nFroude is thrown on his own resources and evolves, \"He became a\nfavorite of Mary--he was an accomplished musician; he soothed her\nhours of solitude with love-songs,\" etc., etc.\n\nIn his statement of the circumstances of the plot for the murder,\nMr. Froude dwells complacently on every injurious insinuation\nagainst Mary Stuart. Referring to a calumnious invention, falsely\nattributed to Darnley, (vol. viii. p. 248,) he is of opinion that\n\"Darnley's word was not a good one; he was capable of inventing\nsuch a story;\" that \"Mary's treatment of him went, it is likely,\nno further than coldness or contempt;\" but nevertheless he strives\nto convey the worst impression against her. If Mr. Froude has a\n\"vivid pen,\" he also has a light one. He glides delicately over the\ncharacter of the conspiracy to kill Riccio, and manages to veil the\nreal motives. Riccio was assassinated on the ninth of March. Nearly\na month previous, on the thirteenth of February, Randolph writes to\nLeicester, for Elizabeth's eye, (the letter need not be sought for in\nFroude,)\n\n    \"I know that there are practices in hand, contrived between\n    father and son, (Lennox and Darnley,) to come to the crown\n    against her (Mary Stuart's) will. I know that if that take\n    effect which is intended, David, (Riccio,) with the consent\n    of the king, shall have his throat cut within these ten days.\n    Many things grievouser and worse than these are brought to my\n    ears; _yea, of things intended against her own person_, which,\n    because I think better to keep secret than to write to Mr.\n    Secretary, I speak of them but now to your lordship.\"\n\nAnd yet all this was but a part of the conspiracy.\n\nRandolph is an authority against whom objection from Mr. Froude is\nimpossible. Nevertheless, he ignores this letter and many others\nfully confirming it, (vol. viii. p. 254,) thrusts out of sight the\nreal motives, which were political, and industriously works up\nnotorious inventions aimed at Mary Stuart's character.\n\nLooking at it as a mere work of art, and without reference to the\nfacts, the murder scene is admirably described by Mr. Froude. (Vol.\nviii. p. 257, _et seq._) One serious drawback is his insatiable\ndesire for embellishment. For the mere purpose of description none is\nneeded. The subject is full to overflowing of the finest dramatic\nmaterial. The result of Mr. Froude's narration is very remarkable. He\nskilfully manages to centre the reader's sympathy and admiration on\nthe assassin Ruthven, and, with device of phrase and glamour of type,\nplaces the sufferer and victim of an infamous brutality in the light\nof a woman who is merely undergoing some well-merited chastisement.\nThe whole scene as pictured rests on the testimony of the leading\nassassin, (Ruthven,) from a London _editio expurgata_; for Chalmers\nshows (vol. ii. p. 352) that the account given by Ruthven and Morton,\ndated April 30th, is the revised and corrected copy of what they\nsent to Cecil on the 2d of April, asking him to make such changes\nas he saw fit before circulating it in Scotland and England. Their\nnote of April 2d still exists; but Mr. Froude does not allude to\nit. Thus we have the story from the chief murderer, corrected by\nCecil and embellished by Mr. Froude, who, while admitting that \"the\nrecollection of a person who had just been concerned in so tremendous\na scene was not likely to be very exact,\" (vol. viii. p. 261,)\nnevertheless adopts the version of that person in preference to all\nothers. Why not exercise the most rudimentary prudence and plainest\njudgment by controlling Ruthven's recital by that of another?--for\nthere are several. And if, after all, we must perforce have\nRuthven's, why not give it as it is, sparing us such inventions as\n\"turning on Darnley as on a snake,\" and \"could she have trampled him\ninto dust upon the spot, she would have done it.\" Mr. Froude is all\nhimself here. \"Catching sight of the empty scabbard at his side, she\nasked him where his dagger was. He said he did not know. '_It will\nbe known hereafter; it shall be dear blood to some of you if David's\nbe spilt._'\" This is a specimen of able workmanship. According to\nKeith, Mary's answer was, \"It will be known hereafter.\" According to\nEllis, Mary had _previously_ said to Ruthven, \"It shall be dear blood\nto some of you if David's be spilt.\" Now, let the reader observe that\nMr. Froude takes these two phrases, found in two different authors,\naddressed separately to two different persons, reverses the order\nin which they are spoken, and puts them into one sentence, which he\nmakes Mary address to Darnley! Do you see why so much industry and\ningenuity should be exerted? _Because in this form the phrase is a\nthreat of murder_; and thus the foundation is laid broad and deep in\nthe reader's mind for the belief that from that moment Mary has a\ndesign upon Darnley's life.[56]\n\nOne thing Mr. Froude does state correctly. We mean Mary's words\nwhen told that Riccio was dead. In her fright, anguish, and horror\nshe ejaculated, \"Poor David! good and faithful servant! May God\nhave mercy on your soul!\" To those who know the human heart, this\ninvoluntary description of the precise place poor David occupied in\nMary's esteem is more than answer to Mr. Froude's indecent note at\npage 261, and his malevolent insinuations on all his pages. Mary\nstruggled to the window to speak to armed citizens who had flocked\nto her assistance. \"Sit down!\" cried one of the ruffian lords to\nher. \"If you stir, you shall be cut into collops, and flung over the\nwalls.\" A prisoner in the hands of these brutal assassins, after the\nunspeakable outrages to which she had been subjected, Mr. Froude\nyet has the admirable art of placing her before his readers in the\nlight of a wicked woman deprived of her liberty for her own good.\nWhen night came, Ruthven called Darnley away, and the queen was left\nto her rest in the scene of the late tragedy; and, adds Mr. Froude\nwith beautiful equanimity, \"The ladies of her court were forbidden\nto enter, and Mary Stuart was locked alone into her room, amidst the\ntraces of the fray, to seek such repose as she could find.\" This is\ntrue, and in that blood-stained place she passed the night alone.\n\n\"They had caged their bird,\" goes festively on our historian;\nbut they \"knew little of the temper which they had undertaken to\ncontrol.\" (\"Undertaken to control\" is here positively delicious!)\n\"Behind that grace of form there lay a nature like a panther's,\nmerciless and beautiful.\" (Vol. viii. 265.) We have seen a panther's\nskin admired, but we never before heard that the animal had a\nbeautiful nature. Such are the reflections suggested to Mr. Froude's\nsympathetic mind by the horrible scenes he has just described.[57]\nOne instinctively trembles for those lambs, the lords, with such a\n\"panther\" near them. All this time Mr. Froude takes no further notice\nof Mary's physical condition than to treat the necessary results,\nwhich, almost miraculously, were not fatal, as \"trick and policy.\"\n(Vol. viii. 266.) The queen was then in the sixth month of her\npregnancy, and the possible consequences of the horrible tragedy thus\nthrust suddenly before her eyes were not unforeseen. The conspirators\nin their bonds had _expressly provided for the contingency of her\ndeath_. When Mary escapes from the band of assassins, Mr. Froude\nwould have been utterly inconsolable but for the fact that her\nmidnight ride gives him (vol. viii. p. 270) the opportunity of\nexecuting (_tempo agitato_) a spirited fantasia on his historic lyre\nin his description of the gallop of the fleeing cavalcade.[58] It\nsounds like a faint echo of B\u00fcrger's _Lenore_. Then he gives credit\nwithout stint to Mary's iron fortitude and intellectual address. He\nis entirely too liberal in this regard. Instead of riding \"away,\naway, past Seton,\" she stopped there for refreshments and the escort\nof two hundred armed cavaliers under Lord Seton, who was advised of\nher coming. Then, too, the letter she \"_wrote with her own hand_,\nfierce, dauntless, and haughty,\" to Elizabeth, and which Mr. Froude\nso minutely describes--\"The strokes thick, and slightly uneven\nfrom excitement, but strong, firm, and without sign of trembling!\"\nThis insanity for the picturesque and romantic would wreck a far\nbetter historian. The prosaic fact is, that although, as Mr. Froude\nstates, the letter may be seen in the Rolls House, _Mary Stuart did\nnot write it_. It was written by an amanuensis, the salutation and\nsignature alone being in her hand. This question was the subject of\nsome controversy, during the past year, in Paris and London, and\nMr. Wiesener, a distinguished French historical writer, requested\nMessrs. Joseph Stevenson and A. Crosby, of the Record Office, to\nexamine the letter and give their opinion. Their reply was, \"The body\nof the document is most certainly not in Mary's handwriting.\" But,\nafter all, there was no occasion for controversy, and still less\nfor Mr. Froude's blunder. If he had ever read the letter, he would\nhave seen that Mary wrote, \"Nous pensions vous \u00e9crire cette lettre\nde notre propre main afin de vous faire mieux comprendre, etc. _Mais\nde fait nous sommes si fatigu\u00e9e et_ si mal \u00e0 l'aise, tant pour avoir\ncouru vingt milles en cinq heures de nuit etc., que _nous ne sommes\npas en \u00e9tat de le faire_ comme nous l'aurions souhait\u00e9.\" It was her\nintention to have written this letter with her own hand, but on\naccount of fatigue and illness could not as she would have desired.\n\"Twenty miles in two hours,\" says Mr. Froude. Twenty miles in five\nhours, modestly writes Mary Stuart. Fortunately, we have been warned\nby Mr. Froude against testimony from that \"suspected source!\"\n\nWe close, for the present, with one specimen (not by any means the\nworst) of Mr. Froude's historical handicraft, which exemplifies his\npeculiar system of citation. He professes to give the substance of\na letter of Mary Stuart published in Labanoff. (Vol. vii. p. 300.)\nHere is the letter, side by side with Mr. Froude's version of it. We\nselect this out of numerous cases, for the reason that Labanoff is\nhere more readily accessible than other authorities treated in like\nmanner by Mr. Froude.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nMR. FROUDE'S STATEMENT\n\n_of the contents of a letter of April 4th, 1566, from Mary Stuart to\nQueen Elizabeth_. (See vol. viii. p. 282.)\n\n\"In an autograph letter of passionate gratitude, Mary Stuart placed\nherself, as it were, under her sister's protection; she told her\nthat, in tracing the history of the late conspiracy, she had found\nthat the lords had intended to imprison her for life; and if England\nor France came to her assistance, they had meant to kill her. She\nimplored Elizabeth _to shut her ears to the calumnies which they\nwould spread against her, and with engaging frankness she begged that\nthe past might be forgotten_; she had experienced too deeply the\ningratitude of those by whom she was surrounded _to allow herself to\nbe tempted any more into dangerous enterprises_; for her own part,\nshe was _resolved never to give offence to her good sister again;\nnothing should be wanting_ to restore the happy relations which had\nonce existed between them; and should she recover safely from her\nconfinement, she hoped that in the summer Elizabeth would make a\nprogress to the north, and that at last she might have an opportunity\nof thanking her in person for her kindness and _forbearance_.\n\n\"This letter was sent by the hands of a certain Thornton, a\nconfidential agent of Mary Stuart, who had been employed on messages\nto Rome. 'A very evil and naughty person, whom I pray you not to\nbelieve,' was Bedford's credential for him in a letter of the 1st\nof April to Cecil. He was on his way to Rome again on this present\noccasion.\n\n\"The public in Scotland supposed that he was sent to consult the pope\non the possibility of divorcing Darnley, and it is remarkable that\nthe Queen of Scots at the close of her own letter desired Elizabeth\nto give credit to him on some _secret_ matter which he would\ncommunicate to her. She perhaps hoped that Elizabeth would now assist\nher in the dissolution of a marriage which she had been so anxious to\nprevent.\"\n\n\nTRANSLATION OF THE ORIGINAL LETTER.\n\n                                 \"EDINBURGH, April 4, 1566.\"\n\n[The opening paragraph of formal compliment acknowledges reception of\nElizabeth's \"favorable dispatch\" by Melville.]\n\n\"When Melville arrived, he found me but lately escaped from the hands\nof the greatest traitors on earth, in the manner in which the bearer\nwill communicate, with a true account of their most secret plot,\nwhich was, that even in case the escaped lords and other nobles,\naided by you or by any other prince, undertook to rescue me, they\nwould cut me in pieces and throw me over the wall. Judge for yourself\nthe cruel undertakings of subjects against her who can sincerely\nboast that she never did them harm. Since then, however, our good\nsubjects have counselled with us, ready to offer their lives in\nsupport of justice; and we have, therefore, returned to this city to\nchastise some of its people guilty of this great crime.\n\n\"Meantime, we remain in this castle, as our messenger will more fully\ngive you to understand.\n\n\"_Above all other things_, I would especially pray you carefully to\nsee that your agents on the Border comply with your good intentions\ntoward me, and, abiding by our treaty of peace, expel those who\nhave sought my life from their territory, where the leaders in this\nnoted act are as well received as if your intention were the worst\npossible, (_la pire du monde_,) and the very reverse of what I know\nit to be.\n\n\"I have also heard that the Count (Earl) of Morton is with you. I\nbeg of you to arrest and send him to me, or at least compel him\nto return to Scotland, by depriving him of safeguard in England.\nDoubtless he will not fail to make false statements to excuse\nhimself; statements which you will find neither true nor probable. I\nask of you, my good sister, to oblige me in all these matters, with\nthe assurance that I have experienced so much ingratitude from my\nown people that _I_ shall never offend by a similar fault. And to\nfully affirm our original friendship, I would ask of you in any event\n(_quoique Dieu m'envoie_) to add the favor of standing as godmother\nfor my child. I moreover hope that, if I should recover by the month\nof July, and you should make your progress as near to my territory as\nI am informed you will, to go, if agreeable, and thank you myself,\nwhich above all things I desire to do. (Then follow apologies for\nbad writing, for which, she says, her condition must excuse her, the\nusual compliments in closing a letter, and wishes for Elizabeth's\nhealth and prosperity.)\n\n\"Postscript. I beseech your kindness in a matter I have charged the\nbearer to ask you for me; and furthermore, I will soon write you\nspecially, (_et au reste je vous dep\u00e9cherai bient\u00f4t expr\u00e8s_,) to\nthank you and to know your intention, if it pleases you, to send me\nsome other minister, whom I may receive as resident, who would be\nmore desirous of promoting our friendship than Randal[59] has been\nfound to be.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWe leave the reader to form his own estimate of this method of\nwriting history. Instead of a letter of \"passionate gratitude,\"\nwritten spontaneously, as insinuated, it turns out to be the answer\nto a dispatch (whether written or verbal, it matters not) transmitted\nby Elizabeth through Melville. Mary's attitude and language are\ndignified and independent, and the missive, so far from having any\nprayer for forbearance in its tone, is plainly one of complaint and\nwarning to Elizabeth, couched, it is true, in terms of politeness.\nThe main subject, \"above all other things,\" is the hospitable\nreception accorded to Riccio's murderers in England, and Elizabeth is\ndelicately but emphatically reminded of her duty and of the violation\nof it by her border agents. The passages of Mr. Froude's version\nmarked in italics _have no existence_ in Mary's letter, and are of\nhis own invention. Mary Stuart says that she has experienced so much\ningratitude from her own (people) that _she_ would never offend any\none by similarly sinning. (_J'ai tant eprouv\u00e9 l'ingratitude des miens\nque je n'offenserai jamais de semblable p\u00e9ch\u00e9._) Mr. Froude makes of\nthis that she had experienced too deeply the ingratitude, etc., \"to\n_allow herself to be tempted anymore into dangerous enterprises_.\"\n\nWhat dangerous enterprises? The murder of Riccio? Was she guilty\nof that too? Was it her midnight escape? Mr. Froude alone has the\nsecret! And then the postscript? Randolph had not only offended, but\ndeeply injured her, and she wishes Elizabeth to understand that he\nmust not be sent back to Scotland.\n\nIt is found \"remarkable\" that Mary, in her postscript, desires\nElizabeth to receive communication of some verbal matter (_not\nsecret_, as Mr. Froude states) from the messenger. But the same\nrequest occurs twice in the body of the letter. Mr. Froude is,\nof course, accurately informed as to the hidden meaning of the\npostscript, and settles the matter with what \"public opinion\nsupposed,\" and his usual \"perhaps.\"\n\nThis is also an invention of Mr. Froude. He supposes the supposition!\nThen, too, his \"evil and naughty person\" is uncalled for; for we\nknow that it was Bedford's business, as it is Mr. Froude's calling,\nto judge any messenger of Mary Stuart to be \"evil and naughty.\" In\nall this, the intelligent reader will see that, as at page 261, vol.\nviii., Mr. Froude lays the foundation of a plan of revenge by Mary\nagainst Darnley, so he here strives to fasten upon her the resolution\nof obtaining a divorce, all going to make cumulative evidence to be\nused when we come to the Darnley murder. \"Deep, sir, deep!\"\n\nBut there is a more serious aspect to this matter. For three\ncenturies this Mary Stuart question has been a vexed one among\nhistorians, and the never-ending theme of acrimonious controversy.\nWhat prospect is there of reaching any solution if the subject\ncontinues to be treated as we find it in the work before us?\n\nSo far from settling any question in dispute, or even solving any\nof the numerous secondary problems underlying the main issue, Mr.\nFroude, by his violent partisanship, tortured citation, paltering\nwith the sense while tampering with the text of authorities,\nattribution of false motives and a scandalous wealth of abusive\nepithets, greatly grieves the most judicious of those who condemn\nMary Stuart, inspires with renewed confidence those who believe\nthat she was a woman more sinned against than sinning, and begets\nthe conviction that the cause must be bad indeed which needs such\nhandling.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[52] _History of England from the Fall of Wolsey to the Death of\nElizabeth._ By James Anthony Froude, late Fellow of Exeter College,\nOxford. 12 vols. New York: Charles Scribner & Co.\n\n[53] See _Edinburgh Review_ for January and October, 1858.\n\n[54] Mr. Froude's reference for this citation is Knox's _History\nof the Reformation_, which is somewhat too general. The reader is\nadvised to look for it in vol. ii. p. 382.\n\n[55] We regret that we have not room for the short discourse Knox\nmade to Murray on the occasion of their parting.\n\n[56] The reader may see at p. 376, vol. viii., where he tells of the\nmurder of Darnley, how effectually Mr. Froude cites his own invention\nas an historical fact: \"So at last came Sunday, eleven months exactly\nfrom the day of Ritzio's murder; and Mary Stuart's words, that she\nwould never rest until that dark business was revenged, were about to\nbe fulfilled.\"\n\n[57] His style is never so sparkling with bright enjoyment as when\nrecounting some insult or outrage to Mary Stuart.\n\n[58] \"The moon was clear and full.\" \"The queen with incredible\nanimosity was mounted _en croup_ behind Sir Arthur Erskine, upon a\nbeautiful English double gelding,\" \"the king on a courser of Naples;\"\nand \"then away, away--past Restalriug, past Arthur's Seat, across\nthe bridge and across the field of Musselburgh, past Seton, past\nPrestonpans, fast as their horses could speed;\" \"six in all--their\nmajesties, Erskine, Traquair, and a chamberer of the queen.\" \"In two\nhours the heavy gates of Dunbar had closed behind them, and Mary\nStuart was safe.\"\n\n[59] His name was Randall--not Randolph, as he was, and is, usually\ncalled.\n\n\n\n\nDION AND THE SIBYLS.\n\nA CLASSIC, CHRISTIAN NOVEL.\n\nBY MILES GERALD KEON, COLONIAL SECRETARY, BERMUDA, AUTHOR OF \"HARDING\nTHE MONEY-SPINNER,\" ETC.\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\n\"Let us show her the marble likeness,\" suggested Paulus, in an eager\nwhisper, with the air of a child devising mischief.\n\nWhile they were discussing this topic, a gentle knock was heard at\nthe door, and then a very pretty girl of about fifteen, with an\nopen, sweet countenance, and a remarkably modest, cheerful bearing,\npresented herself, carrying a sort of tray with various articles for\nsupper arranged thereon.\n\n\"May I come in? I am Benigna,\" said the girl, courtesying.\n\n\"Come in, Benigna,\" said the Greek lady.\n\n\"Come in,\" added Agatha, in Latin, but by no means with so good an\naccent as her mother's. \"You seem like your name; you seem to be\nBenigna.\"\n\nThe girl looked at the beautiful child with a sweet, grateful smile,\nand immediately proceeded to prepare a table and three covers for\nsupper.\n\n\"Do you know Greek?\"[60] asked Aglais.\n\n\"No, lady,\" replied the daughter of the house. \"My father is quite a\nscholar; he was one of the secretary slaves in the great house before\nhe got his freedom, and my mother has learnt much from him; but I\nhave been brought up to help mother in the inn, and never had time to\nlearn high things.\"\n\nAgatha clapped her hands, and exclaimed,\n\n\"Then I'll talk my bad Latin to Benigna, and she shall make it good.\"\n\nThe girl paused in her operations at the table, and said,\n\n\"I thought Latin came naturally to one, like the rain, and that it\nwas Greek which had to be worked out, and made, just as wine is.\"\n\nThe landlady, carrying various articles, entered as her daughter\nuttered this valuable observation, and she joined heartily in the\nlaugh with which it was greeted. Benigna gazed round for a moment in\namazement, and then resumed her work, laughing through sympathy, but\nvery red from the forehead to the dimples round her pretty mouth.\n\nThe supper-table was soon ready.\n\nPaulus, at whom the hostess had frequently looked wistfully, now\nremarked that they all felt much gratitude for the kindness they were\nreceiving, and never could forget it. Crispina, who was going out at\nthe moment, did not reply, but lingered with her hand upon the door;\nthe other hand she passed once across her eyes.\n\nThen the Greek lady observed,\n\n\"Good hostess, these are the apartments you intended for some\nbarbarian queen, I believe?\"\n\n\"Yes, my lady; for Queen Berenice, daughter-in-law of King Herod\nthe Idum\u00e6an, called Herod the Great, with her son Herod Agrippa, a\nwild youth, I understand, about eighteen years old, and her daughter\nHerodias.\"\n\n\"I heard the tribune qu\u00e6stor, who commands the pr\u00e6torians, plead for\nus with your husband,\" continued Aglais; \"and I suppose that the\nqu\u00e6stor's generous eloquence is the cause of our being received into\nyour house at all. But this does not account for your extraordinary\nkindness to us. We expected to be barely tolerated as inconvenient\nand unwelcome guests, who kept better customers away.\"\n\n\"Inconvenient and unwelcome!\" said Crispina, who seemed ready to cry,\nas, looking around the little group, her glance rested again upon\nPaulus.\n\n\"Whereas,\" resumed Aglais, \"you treat my dear children as if you were\ntheir mother. Why are we so fortunate as to find these feelings in a\nstranger?\"\n\nThe hostess paused a moment. \"Honored lady,\" said she, \"the reason\nis, that I once was the nurse of a youth whom I loved as if he were\nmy own child; and it seemed to me as if I saw my brave, beautiful,\naffectionate nursling again when I saw your son; but so long a time\nhad passed, I nearly fell with fright and astonishment.\"\n\nAgatha went to the bust of Tiberius, lifted it, and, pointing to the\nmarble image, said in a low, tender voice,\n\n\"You nursed him?\"\n\nA little cry of dismay escaped the lips of our hostess.\n\n\"No one ever thought of looking beneath,\" said she. \"My daughter and\nI arrange and dust the room. I must remove my poor boy's image. He is\nindeed forgotten by most people now; but it might harm us, and alas!\nalas! could not help him, if this silent face, that never smiles at\nme, never talks to me any more, were to be discovered. Do not speak\nof this to any body, I beg of you, good lady, and my pretty one. You\nwill not?\" added she, smiling, but with tears in her eyes as she\nlooked at Paulus. \"I feel as though I had reared you.\"\n\nThey said they would take care not to allude to the subject at all,\nexcept among themselves, and then Aglais remarked,\n\n\"You speak in sorrow of the youth whom you nursed. Is he then dead?\"\n\n\"_Eheu!_ lady, he is dead nearly twenty years; but he was just about\nyour son's age when they put him to death.\"\n\n\"Put him to death? Why was he put to death, and by whom?\" asked\nAglais.\n\n\"Hush! M\u00e6cenas and the emperor ordered it to be done. Oh! do take\ncare. The whole world swarms with spies, and you may be sure an inn\nis not free from them. Things have been more quiet of late years.\nWhen I was young, I felt as if my head was but glued to my shoulders,\nand would fall off every day. As for Crispus, did I not make him\ncautious how he spake?\"\n\n\"But your foster-son?\"\n\n\"Ah poor boy! Poor young knight! He was mad about the ancient Roman\nliberties; a great student, always reading Tully.\"\n\n\"Was that his crime?\" demanded Aglais.\n\nThe hostess wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her _stola manicata_,\nand said, in a tone little above a whisper, looking round timidly,\nand closing the door fast,\n\n\"Why, Augustus came suddenly one day into a _triclinium_, where he\ncaught a nephew of his trying to hide under a cushion some book which\nhe had been reading. Augustus took the book, and found that it was\none of Tully's. The nephew thought he was lost, remembering that it\nwas Augustus who had given up Cicero to Mark Antony to be murdered.\nThere the emperor stood, fastened to the page, and continued reading\nand reading till at last he heaved a great breath, and, rolling up\nthe book on its roller, laid it softly down, and said, '_A great\nmind, a very great mind, my nephew_;' and so he left the room.\"\n\n\"Then it was not your foster-son's admiration of Cicero that caused\nhis death?\"\n\n\"My foster-son was not Augustus's nephew, you see; but _eheu!_ how\ndifferent a case!--the nephew of a former rival of Augustus. Nor\nused the emperor's nephew to talk as my poor child would talk. My\nfoster-son used to say that for Augustus to have given up Tully, his\nfriend and benefactor, to be murdered by Mark Antony, in order that\nhe, Augustus, might be allowed to murder somebody else, and then to\ndiscover that neither he nor the human race could enjoy justice, nor\nsee peace, nor have safety, till this very same Antony should be\nhimself destroyed, was not a pretty tale. Cicero had sided against,\nand had resisted Julius C\u00e6sar; yet Julius had given back his life to\na man of whom Rome and the civilized world were proud. The same Tully\nhad sided _with_, not against, Augustus, and had been the making of\nhim; yet the life which a noble enemy had spared and left shining\nlike a star, a base friend stole, and suffered to be quenched; and\nthis for the sake of a monster who, for the sake of mankind, had to\nbe very soon himself destroyed. This was not a nice tale, my poor\nPaulus used to say.\"\n\n\"Nor was it; but your Paulus?\" cried Aglais. The travellers all held\ntheir breath in surprise and suspense.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"What! the youth whom that bust represents, and whom Augustus put to\ndeath, was called Paulus?\"\n\n\"Yes. They said he had engaged in some conspiracy, the foolish dear!\nBut now, lady, I have been led, bit by bit, into many disclosures,\nand I beseech you--\"\n\n\"Fear not,\" interrupted Aglais; \"I cannot but cherish a\nfellow-feeling with you; for, although I have something to ask of\nthe emperor, it is justice only. I, too, look back to experiences\nwhich are akin to yours. My son yonder, whom the marble image of your\nfoster-son so strikingly resembles, bears the same name, Paulus; and\nthe name of his father was that which headed the first list of those\nwho, the Triumvirate agreed, should die.\"\n\n\"Permit me, now, to ask once more who you are, lady?\" said Crispina.\n\"I know well the names upon that list.\"\n\n\"My husband,\" replied the Greek widow, \"was brother of the triumvir\nLepidus.\"\n\n\"The triumvir was our master,\" answered the landlady; \"and alas! it\nis too true that he, the triumvir, was timid and weak, and his son,\nabout whose image you have asked me, knew not, poor youth, when he\nso bitterly blamed Augustus for sacrificing Tully to Mark Antony,\nthat his own father had given up a brother--that brother whom you\nmarried--in the same terrible days, and just in the same kind of\nway.\"\n\n\"Whose bust, then, do you say is this which is so like my son?\" asked\nAglais.\n\n\"The bust of your son's first cousin, lady. My foster-son's father\nwas your husband's brother.\"\n\n\"No wonder,\" cried Agatha, \"that my brother should be like his own\nfirst cousin!\"\n\n\"No,\" said Aglais; \"but it is as surprising as it is fortunate that\nwe should have come to this house, and have fallen among kind persons\ndisposed to be friends, like our hostess, her good husband, and\nlittle Benigna yonder.\"\n\n\"There is nothing which my husband and I would not do,\" said\nCrispina, \"for the welfare of all belonging to the great \u00c6milian\nfamily, in whose service we both were born and spent our childhood;\nthe family which gave us our freedom in youth, and our launch in life\nas a married couple. As for me, you know now how I must feel when I\nlook upon the face of your son.\"\n\nA pause ensued, and then Aglais said,\n\n\"Your former master, the triumvir, wrote to my husband asking\nforgiveness for having consented to let his name appear in the list\nof the proscribed, and explaining how he got it erased. Therefore,\nlet not that subject trouble you.\"\n\n\"I happen, on my side, to know for a fact,\" answered the hostess,\n\"that the one circumstance to which you refer has been the great\nremorse of the triumvir's life. The old man still mumbles and\nmaunders, complaining that he never received a reply to that letter.\nHe would die happy if he could but see you, and learn that all had\nbeen forgiven.\"\n\nBefore Aglais had time to make any answer, the landlord appeared,\ncarrying a small _cadus_, or cask, marked in large black letters--\n\n    L. CARNIFICIO\n     S. POMPEIO\n         COS.\n\nBenigna had previously set upon a separate _mensa_, or table,\naccording to custom, fruits, and fictile or earthen cups.\n\n\"I thought so!\" cried good Crispus. \"Women (excuse me, lady, I mean\nmy wife and daughter) will jabber and cackle even when ladies may be\ntired, and, as I sincerely hope, hungry. Do, Crispina, let me see the\nladies and this young knight enjoy their little supper. This Alban\nwine, my lady, is nearly fifty years old, I do assure you; look at\nthe consul's name on the cask. Benigna, young as she is, might drink\nten _cyathi_ of it without hurt. By the by, I have forgotten the\nmeasure. Run, Benigna, and fetch a _cyathus_ (a ladle-cup) to help\nout the wine.\"\n\n\"Jabber and cackle!\" said the hostess. \"Crispus, this lady is the\nwidow, and these are the son and daughter of Paulus \u00c6milius Lepidus.\"\n\nThe landlord, in the full career of his own jabber, was stricken\nmute for a moment. He gazed at each of our three travellers in turn,\nlooking very fixedly at Paulus. At last he said,\n\n\"This, then, accounts for the wonderful likeness. My lady, I will\nnever take one brass coin from you or yours; not an _as_, so help me!\nYou must command in this house. Do not think otherwise.\"\n\nAnd, apparently to prevent Aglais from answering him, he drew his\nwife hastily out of the room, and closed the door.\n\nBenigna was left behind, and, with winning smiles and a flutter\nof attentions, the young girl now placed the chairs, and began to\ncackle, as Crispus would have expressed himself, and to entreat the\nwanderers to take that refreshment of which they stood so much\nin need. They all had the delicate and graceful tact to feel that\ncompliance with the kindness which they had so providentially found\nwas the only way to return it which they at present possessed.\n\nIt is historical to add that appetite gave the same advice. Their\nhunger was as keen as their tact. During supper the mother and son\nspoke little; but Agatha, both during the repast and for some time\nafterward, kept up a brisk conversation with Benigna, for whom the\nchild had taken an inexpressible liking, and from whom she drew,\nwith unconscious adroitness, the fact that she was engaged to be\nmarried. That sudden affection of sympathy which knit the soul of\nDavid to that of Jonathan seemed to have bound these two together.\nThe landlady's considerate daughter at length advised Agatha to defer\nfurther communications until she should have a good night's rest.\nPaulus seconded the recommendation, and left his mother and sister\nwith their Greek slave Melena and with Benigna, and retired to his\nown bedroom. This chamber overlooked the _impluvium_, or inner court,\nwhence the incessant plash of the fountain was heard soothingly\nthrough his lattice-window, the horn slide of which he left open. The\nbedroom of the ladies, on the other hand, overlooked the garden and\nbee-hives, to which Crispina had alluded. The sitting apartments,\nopening into each other, in one of which they had supped, stood\nbetween; all these rooms being situated in the projecting west wing,\nwhich they entirely filled. Thus closed the day which had carried to\ntheir destination the travellers from Thrace.\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\nNext morning when they met at the _jentaculum_, or breakfast, there\nwas a marvellous improvement in Agatha's looks. She had been the\nearliest out of bed; had seen from her window, under a brilliant\nsunshine, the beautiful landscape unroll itself in the various forms\nwhich the landlady had truly though inadequately described; and she\nthen had run down into the garden.\n\nIn due time--that is, very soon afterward--she had been chased by\nthe bees, had fled, screaming and laughing, with the hood of her\n_ricinium_ drawn completely over the head by way of helmet against\nthe terrible darts of her indignant pursuers, and had been received\nin the arms of Benigna, who had heard the cry of distress and had\nflown to the rescue, brandishing a long, reedy brush, like the\nmosquito brushes of modern times. Rallying in a bower of trellis-work\ncovered with ivy, whence a wooden staircase led up to the first\nfloor of the house, by way of a landing or platform, over which rose\nanother bower clad in the same ivy mantle--facing round, I say, upon\nher enemy at the foot of this staircase, she had soon ventured once\nmore into the garden with Benigna, and the two girls, jabbering and\ncackling much, had gathered a large nosegay of autumnal flowers.\nWith this booty, which Benigna had made so big that Agatha could\nhardly hold it in her small and elegant hands, the latter damsel\nhad returned to the bower, had seated herself upon a bench, and had\nbegun to sort the flowers in the relative positions which best showed\ntheir tints. Here she relied upon gradation, there upon contrast.\nHer delicate Greek taste in the performance of this task drew\nexclamations of delight from Benigna.\n\n\"There!\" the innkeeper's daughter would cry; \"how pretty! That is the\nway! That so, and then that, and that! They look quite different now!\nExactly! I never imagined it!\"\n\nWhen Agatha had finished the arrangement to her own satisfaction, an\nexploit which was nimbly achieved, \"Now, Benigna,\" said she, with her\npretty foreign accent, \"sit down here; just do, and tell me all about\nevery thing.\"\n\nBenigna stared, and Agatha proceeded,\n\n\"So you are engaged to become the wife of a very good and handsome\nyouth, who in himself is every thing that can be admired, except\nthat, poor young man! he is not very courageous, I understood you to\nsay. Now, that is not his fault, I suppose. How can he help feeling\nafraid if he does feel afraid?\"\n\nAt this moment the voice of Crispina was heard calling her daughter\nto help in preparing the breakfast, and Benigna, whom Agatha's last\nwords had thrown into some confusion, as the same topic had done the\nprevious evening, made an excuse and ran away, with the light of\nroses vivid in her cheeks.\n\nAgatha remained, and looked out upon the garden, and beyond it upon\nthe sweet country, with its varied beauty. She remained listening\npeacefully and dreamingly to the hum of bees, the twittering of\nbirds, the voices and footsteps in the inn, and inhaling the perfumes\nof the nosegay which she had arranged, and the cool freshness of that\npleasant morning hour, when the sun behind her and behind the house\nwas throwing the shadows of buildings, sheds, trees, and cattle in\nlong lines toward the Tyrrhenian Sea. While thus calmly resting,\nadmiring, and musing, a lady in a dark robe of poil, (_gausapa_,)\nwith a very pallid face and large black eyes, stood suddenly in\nthe doorway of the bower, and blocked out the lovely prospect. The\nstranger smiled, and, holding out a bunch of flowers, said,\n\n\"My pretty young lady, I see that the offering I have been culling\nfor you has lost its value. You are rich already. May I sit down in\nthis pleasant shady place a moment to rest?\"\n\n\"Yes, you may, certainly,\" said Agatha.\n\n\"I suppose,\" resumed the stranger, \"that you belong to this house, my\nlittle friend? I am a stranger, and merely lodging--\"\n\n\"We are lodging, too, and strangers,\" answered Agatha.\n\n\"From your accent,\" continued the other, \"I judge you to be Greek.\"\n\n\"Mother is,\" replied Agatha; \"but brother calls himself a Roman\nknight, and even noble.\"\n\n\"I knew it!\" cried the lady; \"you have it written in your\ncountenance. I, too, am a noble lady; my name is Plancina. Have you\never seen Rome?\"\n\n\"Never.\"\n\n\"Ah! how you will be enchanted. You must come to see me. I have a\nhouse in Rome; such a pretty house, full of such curious things! Ah!\nwhen you see Rome, you will hold your breath with wonder and delight.\nI will make you so happy when you come to see me in my pretty house.\"\n\n\"You are a very kind, good lady, I should think,\" quoth Agatha,\nlooking up from her flowers, and gazing long at the pallid face and\nthe large black eyes; \"and if we go to Rome, I and my mother will\nvisit you, perhaps.\"\n\n\"My house is among the willows and beeches of the Viminal Hill,\" said\nthe lady. \"Remember two things--_Viminal Hill_, with its beeches\nand its willows, and _the Calpurnian House_, where the Piso family\nhave lived for generations. My husband, Piso, has had great losses\nat dice. I am rich enough to spend a fortune every year for half a\ncentury, and we have still at our house all the pleasures that can be\nthought of. What pains I will take to amuse you! You cannot conceive\nthe splendors, dresses, games, sports, shows, and beauties of Rome;\nthe theatres, the circus, the combats, the great wild beasts of all\nsorts from all countries, the dances--\"\n\nAs she pronounced the word \"dances,\" a youthful male voice was heard\nat a little distance, saying, \"While they change horses here, we will\nstretch our limbs by a stroll in the garden behind the inn. Make\nhaste, worthy innkeeper; order your servants to be brisk.\"\n\nAnd almost at the same moment a brilliantly beautiful, dark,\neastern-looking girl, in a Syrian costume, appeared at the entrance\nof the bower. Behind her came sauntering the youth whose voice had\nbeen heard. He was of about Paulus's age, had an olive complexion,\nwas sumptuously dressed, and exhibited a strong family likeness in\nface to the girl. Last followed a woman in middle life, appareled in\ncostly robes, suited to travel, haughty, languid, and scornful of\nmien.\n\nPlancina and Agatha looked up and surveyed the new-comers. The\nbrilliant damsel remained at the entrance of the bower examining its\noccupants with a hardy, unabashed glance; whereupon Plancina, after a\nmoment's pause, occasioned by the interruption, resumed and concluded\nher sentence thus,\n\n\"No, you can form no idea of the gayeties of Rome; the games, the\nshows, the theatres, the glories, the pleasures, the jests, the\n_dances_.\"\n\n\"But all your good dances come from foreign lands--from the east,\nindeed,\" interrupted the damsel, nodding her head repeatedly and\nsneeringly; \"you must admit that.\"\n\n\"Not _all our good_ alone,\" answered Plancina sternly, noticing that\nthe woman in middle life smiled approvingly at the girl who had\nobtruded the remark; \"not _all our good_ alone, but _all_. The office\nof the outside world is to try and amuse Rome.\"\n\n\"And what is Rome's office?\" asked the damsel.\n\n\"To be amused by them, if she can,\" answered the Roman.\n\n\"Come away, Herodias,\" said the haughty, languid, and\nscornful-looking woman; and the two strolled down the middle walk of\nthe garden. The youth who had come with them lingered a moment or two\nbehind, standing in the middle of the gravel-walk and gazing straight\ninto the bower, while he flirted a sort of horse-whip around the\nheads of one or two tall flowers which were growing outside along the\nborder of the walk.\n\nPlancina looked steadily at him, and he at her. The lad withdrew\nafter a few moments, without a change of feature.\n\n\"What starers!\" muttered Agatha.\n\n\"They have a talent for it, indeed,\" said Plancina. \"A hardy family,\nputting one thing with another. I think I know who they are. The\nmother, if she were the mother, called the daughter, if she were\nthe daughter, Herodias. My husband thinks of going to Syria, and\nindeed Tiberius has offered him the procuratorship of Judea; but he\nwould not condescend to go in any smaller capacity than as prefect\nof Syria. An acquaintance of ours, _young Pontius Pilate_, wants\nto get the procuratorship. The minor office would be a great thing\nfor _him_. But my husband, Piso of the Calpurnians, cannot stoop to\n_that_. I may meet yonder family again.\"\n\n\"Those people are looking back,\" observed Agatha, who had paid very\nlittle attention to her companion's speech.\n\nPlancina rose, and, going to the entrance of the bower, honored the\nstrangers with a steady glance. The scornful-looking foreign woman in\nsumptuous apparel met it for a moment, and then turned away. Her son\nand daughter turned away at the same time.\n\n\"Ah! they are gone,\" murmured Agatha; \"they do not like you to gaze\nso at them.\"\n\n\"It is but a Roman,\" returned Plancina, \"looking at barbarians. They\nalways shrink in that curious manner. And why this Greek lunacy?\"\nmuttered she; \"and why this Attic mania?\"\n\n\"Attic what?\" asked the half-Greek girl.\n\n\"Nothing, my dear,\" replied Plancina; \"only you are not Greek, you\nknow; your father's race and the name you bear settle that question;\nyour very mother is now, and has long since become, a Roman citizen;\nyou must always prefer Rome to Greece; never forget that rule, or you\nand yours will perish.\"\n\nAgatha opened wide the ingenuous young eyes, and seemed to be most\nseriously alarmed.\n\nPlancina smoothed her pale brows, which had been frowning; and\ncontinued with a stern smile,\n\n\"I am only giving you a friend's warning. Your mother and brother\nhave a suit to urge at court. There exists a pestilent Greek faction\nwhich are all doomed to destruction; tell your mother that you must\nall beware of being mixed up with them, and you will escape their\nperdition. A Greek, like your mother, with something to ask, is\npeculiarly liable to make the mistake of seeking Greek friends. If\nshe do, she is utterly lost, however powerful may seem the prince who\npatronizes the accursed cabal.\"\n\nAgatha shrank and trembled, murmuring like an echo Plancina's last\nadjective--_exitiabilis_.\n\n\"Do not stare at me so, my little dear,\" continued Plancina. \"There\nis the Prince Germanicus. Only for him--every body knows it, and\nevery body says it; the thing is no secret--Piso, my husband, would\nbe now prefect of Syria; and like Crispus Sallust, when I was a\nlittle girl, would have recovered ten times the fortune out of which\nhe has been cheated at dice. I am called a rash, violent, and an\nuntamable woman. The moment, however, that any body gives you any\ninformation about court parties and political factions, every thing\nI am saying will be mentioned. I do not hide my disgust. Foreign\nbarbarians of all sorts swarm; they creep through postern doors;\nthey privately influence all the destinies of that world of which\nRomans have the name publicly of being masters. We are trodden\nunder the feet of Greeks, Jews, and Chaldeans; the first beat us by\ngenius, by eloquence, and artistic skill, by general intellectual\nforce and subtlety; the second by superstition-inspired obstinacy,\nby incredible and unspeakable importunity, by steadfastness in\nsordid servility, by sorcery, divination, necromancy, and delusion;\nnot all delusion, I grant you; for I myself have seen the demons of\nThrasyllus, the Babylonish Greek.\"\n\n\"What!\" cried Agatha, \"seen demons? And what does a Babylonish Greek\nmean?\"\n\n\"A Greek initiated in the Babylonish mysteries.\"\n\n\"And who is Thrasyllus?\"\n\n\"A magician.\"\n\n\"What is that?\"\n\n\"A man who calls demons and spirits of the air, as you would call\nyour pet birds, and they come to him.\"\n\n\"May the unknown God love me!\" cried Agatha, shuddering. \"What are\nthe demons like?\"\n\n\"Not like our sculptures, believe me,\" answered Plancina. \"I dare not\ntell you; I have seen what no words can say.\"\n\nShe paused, shrugged her shoulders, and then added,\n\n\"Some forms were like the human, with red fire in the veins\ninstead of blood, and white fire in the bones instead of marrow;\neyes they possessed that had no comfort in them. They had the air\nof being utterly without interest in any thing, only that their\neyes were filled with fear; yet it seemed to me with knowledge,\ntoo: unspeakable fear, immense knowledge; wells and pools they\nappeared, full of fear and knowledge. When they glanced upon you,\nthere were pale rays of hatred strangely combined with an expression\nof indifference, fear, knowledge, and hatred. If you looked at the\neyes, when they looked not at you, you saw nothing but an expression\nof fear and knowledge; but when they did look at you, you saw fear,\nknowledge, and hatred too. All these faces mocked without smiling,\nand scoffed without enjoyment. Something, I thought, was dripping\ndown the wan cheeks, and there was a look of fixed surprise long\nago, of long-past astonishment--the trace left, and the feeling\ngone. The emotion of boundless amazement had once been there; the\nsigns of it were left all over the countenance, but, if I may so\nspeak, petrified--an immedicable scar, an ineffaceable vestige. The\ncharacter of the countenance was that of a dead astonishment--the\nastonishment was dead; it was no longer an active sentiment. It had\nbeen some boundless wonder; the greatest which that creature had ever\nexperienced, and the event which had caused it had apparently been\nthe most serious which that being had ever known.\"\n\n\"What a truly tremendous description!\" exclaimed Agatha.\n\nThe other made no reply; and before any further conversation could\noccur between them, a young man, in the dark-brown habiliments of a\nslave, entered the garden from the inn, and after a hasty glance in\nvarious directions, approached the bower. His features were very\ngood; he was well made, of a pleasing address, and had a look of\nuncommon intelligence. He possessed, in a small degree, and a humble\nway, that undefinable air of elegance which mental culture sheds over\nthe countenance; but with this advantage he betrayed certain symptoms\nof awkwardness and timidity. Standing at a little distance from the\ndoor of the arbor, he made a low bow to Plancina, and said he was the\nbearer of some commands.\n\n\"Commands from whom?\" she demanded.\n\nHe answered, bowing low again, by merely stating that his name was\nClaudius.\n\nPlancina instantly rose, and took leave of Agatha, enjoining her\nnot to forget the warnings and counsels she had given. Agatha then\nsaw her hastily re\u00ebnter the hotel, followed by the handsome slave.\nThereupon, buoyantly recovering her spirits, which the presence and\nthe words of this woman had depressed, she ascended the staircase to\nthe landing overhead, where she was joined by her mother from the\nroom within.\n\nAgatha immediately told Aglais every thing which had passed between\nher and Plancina.\n\n\"I don't think, my dear child, we shall be likely to trouble her in\nher nice house among the willows and beeches of the Viminal Hill,\"\nsaid Aglais; and as Paulus now came out upon the landing, a second\nedition of the narrative was produced for his information.\n\n\"Germanicus,\" said he, \"is more like the last of the Romans than\nin any sense reprehensible or degenerate in his tastes. His love\nfor Greece and his admiration for Athens are an honor to his\nunderstanding. They are nothing else. This has nothing to do with\npreferring barbarians and barbarous influences. My education,\n_edepol!_ has to be completed; but I am educated enough to know that\nRome goes for schooling to Greece as much as ever she did. Was not\nJulius C\u00e6sar himself what they call a _Gr\u00e6culus_? I rather think\nhe was even deeper than Germanicus in Greek lore; but, therefore,\nall the more fitted for Roman command. The Romans continued to be\nbarbarians long after the Greeks had become the teachers of the\nworld; and were it not for Greece, they would be barbarians still.\nAs for warning us not to dare to make friends for ourselves of this\nperson or that, or of any who appreciate intellect--for this means\nto appreciate Greeks--it is like warning us to remain friendless, in\norder that we may the more easily be crushed. It is the wolf's advice\nto the sheep, to send away her dogs; but I am more dog than that\nmyself. This pale, beetle-browed lady ought to have enjoined those to\nbe timid who know how. Dare do this! Dare do that! For my part, I am\nnot afraid to do any thing that I think right.\"\n\nHis mother pressed Paulus's hand affectionately, and his sister's\nhigh spirit, which had cowered under the dreadful conversation of\nPlancina, shone in her eyes as she smiled at him.\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\nMeanwhile, in the large room within, breakfast had been prepared\nfor the wanderers on a table drawn opposite to and near the open\nfolding-doors of the arbor where they were conversing; and the\nlandlady now summoned them to partake of that repast.\n\nAfter breakfast, at which Crispina herself waited on them, Agatha\nasked where Benigna was.\n\nThe landlady smiled, and stated that a friend of her daughter's had\ncalled, and was doubtless detaining her, but she would go at once\nand bring the girl.\n\n\"On no account,\" interposed Aglais; \"Benigna, I dare say, will unfold\nto my daughter all about it by and by. Unless you have some pressing\nbusiness to take you immediately away, will you kindly inform us of\nthe news, if there be any, and let us sit in the arbor while you tell\nus?\"\n\nAccordingly they went into the bower on the landing overlooking the\ngarden, and Crispina told them the news.\n\nIn the first place, she told them that the emperor's expected visit\nto Formi\u00e6 was delayed on account of the state of his health. It was\nnow thought he would not arrive for two or three days more, whereas\nhe was to have entered Formi\u00e6 that very morning. Crispina added, that\nit would not surprise her if he did not come for a week yet.\n\nIn the second place, Queen Berenice with her son, Herod Agrippa,\nand her daughter Herodias, who were to have occupied those very\napartments, had arrived at the inn, but had now gone forward.\n\n\"Mother,\" said Agatha, \"those must have been the persons who, an hour\nago, looked into the arbor below this one, when that pale woman was\ntalking to me. The elder called the younger Herodias.\"\n\n\"The same,\" continued the landlady. \"Finding that they cannot be\naccommodated in my house, young Herod has proposed to proceed with\nall their train to Formi\u00e6, where--royal though they be--they will be\nnobody's guests; and as there is not a place of public entertainment\nin that town, and the weather is delightful, he says they will pitch\ntwo or three tents, and one splendid pavilion of silk, on the verge\nof the green space outside of Formi\u00e6, where the games are to be\nheld.\"\n\n\"Only fancy!\" cried Agatha, clapping her little hands.\n\nThirdly, Crispina told them, with fifty gossiping details, that\nthe entertainments to be given in honor of the emperor and the\nopulent knight Mamurra, from whom the town took its name, would\nbe stupendous. Formi\u00e6, we may mention, was frequently called\n_Mamurrarum_, or _urbs mamurrana_, from the colonel or chiliarch\nMamurra. This gentleman had devoted his boyhood and youth to the\ncause of Julius C\u00e6sar, and afterward of Augustus in the civil wars;\nhad gained considerable military reputation, and, above all, had\namassed enormous wealth.\n\nHe had long since returned to his native Formi\u00e6, where he had built a\nsuperb palace of marble, good enough for an emperor. In that palace\nthe emperor was now to be his guest. He and Agrippa Vipsanius, the\nfounder of the Pantheon, had long before been among those by whom, in\ncompliance with the often-announced wish of Augustus, not peculiarly\naddressed to them, but generally to all his wealthy countrymen,\nAugustus had expended incalculable sums in adorning Rome with public\nedifices, for which costly materials, and the science and taste of\nthe best architects, had alike been employed. As Augustus himself\nsaid, (for himself,) \"They had found it of bricks, and were leaving\nit of marble.\"\n\n\"I have read verses by Catullus upon this knight Mamurra,\" said\nAglais.\n\n\"So you have, my lady,\" replied Crispina. \"Well, he has just knocked\nup a circus in the fields adjoining Formi\u00e6, and is preparing to\nexhibit magnificent shows to his neighbors and to all comers, in\nhonor of the emperor's visit to the town of the Mamurras and the\nMamurran palace. Tiberius C\u00e6sar, who is also to be the knight's\nguest, promises to use this same circus, and to give entertainments\nof his own there, and Germanicus C\u00e6sar, before marching north to\nfight the Germans, and drive them out of north-eastern Italy, is to\nreview at Formi\u00e6 the troops destined for that expedition, as well as\nthe great bulk of the pr\u00e6torian guards under Sejanus. The guards are\nuncertain what portion of them the C\u00e6sar may take with him northward.\"\n\n\"Mother, we shall see the shows, we shall see the shows!\" cried\nAgatha.\n\n\"Oh! and I am so slow. There is another ingredient yet in my wallet\nof tidings,\" exclaimed Crispina; \"and only think of my almost\nforgetting to remember it.\"\n\n\"Remember not to forget it,\" said the Greek girl, holding up her\nfinger with an admonishing and censorious look at the landlady.\n\"What is this particular which you have, after all, not forgotten to\nremember?\"\n\n\"My charming little lady, it is a particular which concerns the land\nof your mother, and the people of Greece; for seldom, say they, has\nthat land or people sent to Rome any body like him.\"\n\n\"You accused yourself of being slow; but now you gallop. Like whom?\"\n\n\"Like this noble young Athenian.\"\n\n\"Galloping still faster,\" rejoined Agatha.\n\n\"What noble young Athenian?\"\n\n\"This Athenian, gifted as his countryman Alcibiades, eloquent as our\nown Tully, acute and profound as Aristotle, honorable as Fabricius,\ntruthful as Regulus, and O ladies! with all these other excellencies,\nbeautiful as a poem, a picture, a statue, or a dream!\"\n\n\"There's a description,\" quoth Agatha, laughing.\n\n\"More eloquent than precise, I think,\" said Paulus.\n\n\"Yet sufficiently precise,\" added Aglais, \"to leave us in no doubt\nat all who is meant by it. It must be young Dionysius; it must be\n_Dion_.\"\n\n\"That is the very name!\" exclaimed the hostess.\n\n\"My mother knows him,\" said Paulus. \"My sister and I have often heard\nof him; so have thousands; but we have not seen him. It is he who\ncarried away all the honors of the great Lyceum at Athens on the left\nbank of the Ilissus.\"\n\n\"The right bank, brother,\" said Agatha; \"don't you remember, the day\nwe embarked at the Pir\u00e6us somebody showed it to us, just opposite\nDiana Agrotera, which is on the left bank?\"\n\n\"It is all the same,\" said Paulus.\n\n\"Mother, just tell Paulus if left and right are all the same,\" said\nAgatha. \"That is like Paulus. They are not the same; they never were\nthe same.\"\n\n\"All the ladies at the Mamurran palace,\" resumed the hostess, \"make\ntoilets against him.\"\n\n\"Toils, you mean,\" said Paulus.\n\n\"Yes, toils,\" continued the hostess. \"They are intended as toils\nfor him; they are great toils and labors for the poor girls; the\n_ornatrius_ and they are toilers for the fair dames themselves.\"\n\n\"It is all the same,\" again quoth Paulus.\n\n\"And how do these toilets prosper against Dionysius the Athenian?\"\n\n\"They tell me he is not aware of the admiration he excites--is\ntotally indifferent to it.\"\n\n\"Base, miserable youth!\" cried Paulus, laughing. \"These Roman dames\nand damsels ought to punish him.\"\n\n\"You mean by letting him alone?\" asked the landlady.\n\n\"No; that would kill him,\" returned Paulus with a sneer, \"being what\nhe is.\"\n\n\"Then how punish him?\" asked she.\n\n\"By pursuing him with their blandishments,\" answered Paulus; \"that\nis, if they can muster sufficient ferocity. But I fear the women are\ntoo kind here in Italy. I am told that even in the midst of the most\nfurious passions, and while the deadliest agonies are felt by others\naround them, their natural sweetness is so invincible that they\nsmile and send soft glances to and fro; they look more bewitching at\nmisery (such is their goodness) than when they see no suffering at\nall. Yes, indeed! and as the gladiators fight, they have a lovely\nsmile for each gash; and when the gladiator dies, their eyes glisten\nenchantingly. We have not these entertainments in Greece, and the\nGreek Dion must soon feel the superiority of the Roman to the Greek\nwoman. Pity is a beautiful quality in a woman; and the Greek ladies\ndo not seek the same frequent opportunities of exercising it as the\nItalian ladies possess, and, _eheu!_ enjoy.\"\n\n\"Is Paulus bitter?\" asked Aglais. \"Is Paulus witty?\"\n\n\"Talking of wit, my lady,\" pursued the hostess, \"none but our dear\nold Plautus could have matched this young Athenian, as Antistius\nLabio, the great author of five hundred volumes, has found to his\ncost.\"\n\n\"Labio! Why, that must be the son of one of those who murdered\nC\u00e6sar,\" exclaimed Paulus. \"My father met his father foot to foot at\nthe battle of Philippi; but he escaped, and slew himself when Brutus\ndid so.\"\n\n\"That was indeed this man's father,\" said Crispina. \"The son is\na very clever man, and a most successful practitioner in the law\ncourts. Wishing to mortify Dionysius, he said in his presence, at a\nreview of the troops at Formi\u00e6 yesterday, that he was grateful to the\ngods he had not been born at Athens, and was no Greek--not he!\n\n\"'The Athenians also entertain,' replied Dionysius, 'the idea which\nyou have just expressed.'\n\n\"'What idea?' asked Antistius Labio.\n\n\"'_That their gods watch over them_,' replied Dionysius. Ah my lady!\nyou should have heard the laughter at Labio; the very centurions\nturned away to conceal their grins. Some one high at court then took\nthe Athenian's arm on one side, and Titus Livius's on the other, and\nwalked off with them. Labio did not say a word.\"\n\n\"Pray can you tell us, good Crispina, whether Germanicus C\u00e6sar is to\nbe a guest of the knight Mamurra?\" asked Paulus.\n\nThe landlady said she believed he would be for a day or two, and that\nshe thought it was even he who had taken Dion's and Livy's arm, and\nwalked with them apart.\n\n\"It is some time,\" said Aglais, \"since Catullus indited those\nepigrammatic verses against the hospitable and opulent knight. This\nMamurra must be very old.\"\n\n\"Yet, my lady,\" replied Crispina, \"he has a ruddy face, a clear\ncomplexion, and downright black eyebrows.\"\n\n\"There is a wash called _lixirium_,\" said Aglais with a meaning smile.\n\n\"Ah! but,\" cried Crispina, laughing with no less knowing a look,\n\"that makes the hair yellow; and the brows of the knight are as black\nas the jet ornaments in your daughter's hair.\"\n\n\"You can tell us, no doubt,\" said Paulus, \"who those ladies must be\nthat came with Tiberius C\u00e6sar yesterday from that splendid mansion on\nthe Liris. They were in beautiful litters; one of sculptured bronze,\nthe other of ivory, embossed with gold reliefs.\"\n\n\"I know who they are, of course,\" said the landlady; \"they are\nhalf-sisters, the daughters of the late renowned warrior and\nstatesman, the builder of the Pantheon, Agrippa Vipsanius, but by\ndifferent mothers. One of them was the wife of Tiberius C\u00e6sar.\"\n\n\"Was!\" exclaimed Paulus; \"why, she's not a ghost?\"\n\n\"She is, nevertheless; her husband has another wife,\" said the\nlandlady; adding, in a low voice, \"a precious one, too; the emperor\nhas required him to marry the august Julia.\"\n\n\"The august!\" murmured Aglais contemptuously, with a shrug of the\nshoulders; \"getting old, too.\"\n\n\"I am sure,\" resumed the landlady, \"no one can describe the\nrelationships of that family. Agrippa Vipsanius, you must know,\nmarried three times. His second wife was Marcella, daughter of\nAugustus's sister, Octavia; and this Marcella became the mother of\nthe elder of the two ladies whom you saw. Well, while this Marcella\nwas still living, but after she had had a daughter called Vipsania,\nAugustus made Agrippa put her away to marry, mind you, this very\nsame august Julia, Augustus's own daughter, and therefore Marcella's\nfirst cousin. This Julia, who had just become a widow, having lost\nher first husband Marcellus, is the mother of the other lady whom you\nsaw, who is called Julia Agrippina, and who thus came into the world\nthe second cousin of her own half-sister. Well, Agrippa, the father\nof both girls, leaving the august Julia a widow for the second time,\nTiberius C\u00e6sar marries Agrippa's eldest daughter Vipsania, and has a\nson by her, called Drusus; and now, while Vipsania is still living,\nAugustus makes Tiberius put her away to marry the aforesaid august\nJulia, the mother of the younger daughter, Julia Agrippina, who is\nTiberius's first and likewise second cousin.\"\n\n\"I can hardly follow you in the labyrinth,\" said Aglais.\n\n\"No one can, my lady, except those who make a study of it,\" said the\nlandlady, laughing; \"but it's all true. Julia, Augustus's daughter,\nis the wife of the father of both these girls, first cousin to\nthe eldest of them, mother and cousin-in-law of the younger, and\nhas now also been made wife to the husband of the elder, her own\nfirst cousin, and become the sister-in-law of her own daughter and\ncousin-in-law to the younger.\"\n\n\"Medius fidius!\" cried Paulus, staring stupidly, \"what a tremendous\ntwisted knot! Julia's daughter, half-sister, and second cousin is\nput away, that the half-sister's husband may marry the half-sister's\nstepmother and second cousin, or something like that.\"\n\n\"Or something like that,\" continued Crispina; \"but there is no end\nto it. Tiberius C\u00e6sar is now father-in-law and brother-in-law to one\nwoman, and the husband and stepfather-in-law to another, while the\nmother of the younger half-sister becomes the sister-in-law of her\nown daughter.\"\n\nAt this moment Agatha, who was opposite the outer door of the\nembowered landing, leading down by a flight of stairs into the\ngarden, through the other arbor before mentioned, suddenly exclaimed,\n\"There's Benigna walking in the garden with a man!\"\n\nThey all looked, and saw Benigna and a young man, wearing a brown\ntunic and slippers, in a distant alley of fig-trees, talking\nearnestly as they strolled together. Crispina smiled and said, \"I\nmust really tell you that my Benigna's betrothed lover came here\nunexpectedly at daybreak. He has obtained a week's holiday, and will\nspend it, he vows, in the inn. We have had to use some skill, I\npromise you, in finding room for him. He is to sleep in a big trunk\nwith the lid off, stowed away in the angle of a corridor behind a\ncurtain. He is a very good and well-instructed youth, knows Greek,\nand is severely worked as one of the secretaries of Tiberius C\u00e6sar,\nwhose slave he is, as I think Benigna has mentioned to my little Lady\nAgatha yonder.\"\n\n\"When is the marriage of dear Benigna to take place?\" asked Agatha.\n\n\"Of course the poor young man,\" replied Crispina, \"cannot marry until\nhe gets his freedom. Whenever Tiberius C\u00e6sar allows him to shave his\nhead, and put on the _pileus_, (cap of liberty,) we shall have a\nmerry wedding.\"\n\n\"What sort of master is Tiberius C\u00e6sar?\" asked Paulus.\n\nThe landlady said she was thankful she did not personally know him;\nbut she had never heard any complaint of him made by Claudius, her\nfuture son-in-law.\n\n\"Your future son-in-law, Claudius!\" exclaimed Agatha in amazement.\n\"Then it was your future son-in-law who had something to say to that\nDame Plancina, with the pale face and black eyebrows?\"\n\n\"Not that I know of, my little lady,\" returned the hostess.\n\n\"Ah! but he had, though,\" persisted Agatha. \"He came to the arbor\ndoor, and distinctly stated, with a low bow, that he had commands\nfor that lady; and then she said from whom; and he said, my name\nis Claudius; that is what he said; and then she jumped up in a\nremarkable fluster and went into the house, and he followed her. But\nthen why she should jump up in a fluster, because a slave said his\nname was Claudius, I can't imagine,\" concluded Agatha, pondering.\n\nThe hostess looked surprised.\n\n\"I think it could not be because a slave's name was Claudius,\" she\nsaid; \"nor do I understand it.\"\n\n\"Is that your demon-seeing dame, Agatha?\" asked Paulus, stretching\nhimself; \"for I have a notion that when I parried the fellow's blow\nwho wanted to cut me down in so cowardly a fashion, you know--\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"There was a female scream; do you remember it?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Well, I have been thinking the woman who screamed was a woman whom\nyour description of that fierce dame in the arbor exactly fits. If\nso, she was in the train of Tiberius, and of those ladies of whom our\ngood hostess has just given us such an interesting genealogical and\nmatrimonial account.\"\n\n\"Then perhaps the commands for Plancina were from Tiberius C\u00e6sar,\"\nquoth Agatha.\n\nCrispina shook her head, but appeared a little serious. A short\nsilence followed. Paulus broke it by asking the landlady to get\na letter forwarded for him to the military tribune, Velleius\nPaterculus, at Formi\u00e6. \"I wish,\" he said, \"to take advantage of the\ndelay in the emperor's visit, and to see the country, to fish in the\nriver, to move about far and near; provided Paterculus, to whom I\nhave given a promise to report myself, has no objection.\"\n\nThe hostess brought him some _liviana_, or second-class paper, the\nbest she had, some cuttle-fish ink, and a reed pen, told him to\nwrite his letter, and undertook to transmit it at once by a runner\nbelonging to the hostelry. She then left the room.\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\nThe letter was sent, and in the course of the forenoon the\n_tabellarius_, or letter-carrier of the inn, returned from Formi\u00e6.\nCrispina brought him to Paulus, who was in an avenue of the garden\nwatching some players as they contested a game of quoits or _discus_.\nThis avenue connected the garden proper with the open country\nwestward, terminating in a cross-hedge of myrtle, through which a\nlittle wicket or trellis gate opened. \"The man has brought no letter\nback,\" the hostess said, signing at the same time to the messenger to\ndeliver the particulars of his errand.\n\nHe had found the tribune, he said, and had given him the letter and\nasked for an answer. The tribune was at the moment inspecting a\nbody of troops. He read the note, however, and immediately took out\nof his belt both his _stylus_ and _pugillaria_, or hand-tablets;\nwhen the pr\u00e6torian prefect Sejanus, happening to pass, entered into\nconversation with him, and the messenger then saw Velleius Paterculus\nhand to Sejanus Paulus's letter. After reading it, the general\ngave it back, said something in Greek, and went away. The tribune\nthereupon told the bearer that he would send an answer during the day\nby a messenger of his own. Paulus thanked the man, who then withdrew.\n\nOur hero, who had prepared his fishing-tackle, a portion of which he\nhad in his hand, remarked that it was vexatious to lose so fine and\nfavorable a day. \"Moreover, why should I be a prisoner?\" he suddenly\nexclaimed. \"I have a triple right to my personal liberty, as Roman\ncitizen, knight, and noble. And what have I done to forfeit it? What\nhave I done except parry the blow of an assassin whom I neither\ninjured nor provoked?\"\n\n\"Hush!\" murmured Crispina; and just then Cneius Piso, having a\nbandage round his head, and leaning on the arm of Plancina, was seen\npassing into the inn before them from another part of the garden.\n\nThe landlady stood still a moment, till the two figures had\ndisappeared, when she said, with a slight motion of the thumb in the\ndirection of Piso, \"He reports himself quite well now except for a\nheadache. He and his lady leave us in an hour for Rome, and I hope I\nmay say both _vale_ and _salve_. You ask what you have done. Have you\nnot come to Italy to claim rights which are indisputable?\"\n\n\"Is that reason?\"\n\n\"It is a thousand reasons, and another thousand, too. Alas! do\nnot deceive yourself, as your namesake and cousin did, about the\ncharacter of the world.\"\n\nAt the door of the inn they separated, she to attend to the\nmultifarious business of her household, and he to loiter\npurposelessly. After a little reflection, he went quite through the\nhouse by the _impluvium_, and the central corridor beyond it, and\nlooked into the public room, or _atrium_. At one table a couple of\ncenturions sat playing dice with the _tesser\u00e6_, and shouting the\nnames of half a dozen gods and goddesses, as their luck fluctuated.\nAt another table a powerfully built, dark, middle-aged man, having\na long, ruddy beard streaked with gray, upon whom Asiatic slaves\nwaited, was taking a traveller's repast; his slaves helping him\nto costly wine, which he drank with a grimace of dissatisfaction,\nbut in formidable quantities. Other groups were dotted round the\nlarge apartment. In order not to draw needless notice, for all eyes\nturned to him for a moment, except those of the two dice-throwing\nand bellowing centurions, Paulus seated himself behind an unoccupied\ntable near the door. While idly watching the scenes around him, he\nthought he heard his name pronounced in the passage outside. He\nlistened, but the noise in the room made him uncertain, and the voice\noutside was already less audible, as of one who had passed the door\nwhile speaking.\n\nPresently he heard, in a much louder tone, the words, \"Why, it is\nnot our carriage, after all. Let us return and wait where we can sit\ndown.\" And the speaker again passed the public room, coming back,\napparently, from the porch.\n\nPaulus happened to be sitting close to the door, which was open; a\ncurtain, as was common, hanging over the entrance. This time, in\nspite of the noise in the dieta, a word or two, and a name, though\nnot his own, struck him. He fancied some one said, \"No harm to her;\nbut still, not the brother--the sister, my trusty Claudius.\"\n\nWhere had Paulus heard those tones before? In itself, what he had\noverheard was a sufficiently harmless fragment of a sentence.\nNevertheless, Paulus rose, left his table, lifted aside the\ndoor-curtain, and went into the corridor, where he saw Cneius Piso\nand Plancina, with their backs to him, walking toward the end of the\npassage opposite the porch, but he nearly stumbled against a young\nman going the other way. This person, who was good-looking, in both\nsenses of the word, wore the sober-colored _exomis_, or tunic, the\nlong hair, and the slippers of a slave. He had in his right hand a\nstylus; in his left, tablets of citron-wood, open and covered with\nblue wax, on which he was reading, with his head bent, some note\nwhich he had made there.\n\n\"It is my fault, noble sir,\" said he; \"I was stooping over these and\ndid not observe you; I beg you to pardon my awkwardness.\" And he\nbowed with an air of humility.\n\n\"It is I, rather, who am to blame,\" said Paulus, scanning steadily\nthe features of the slave, who had made his apology with a look of\nalarm, and in exaggerated accents of deprecation.\n\nShortly after this incident, while Paulus, who had not returned to\nthe _atrium_, was leaning dreamily over the balustrade of the inn's\ncentral court, and watching the fountain in the impluvium there,\nhe was struck heavily on the shoulder from behind by an open hand.\nTurning round slowly, he beheld a man in the very prime of life, who\nwas entirely a stranger to him.\n\n\"I was told I should find you here, excellent sir,\" said the stranger.\n\nPaulus took in, at a glance, his dress and general appearance. He\nhad a thick brown beard, neatly trimmed, and open, daring, large\nblue eyes, in which there was nothing whatever sullen or morose; yet\na sort of wildness and fierceness, with a slight but constant gleam\nof vigilance, if not subtlety. On the whole, his face was handsome;\nit was conspicuously manful, and, perhaps, somewhat obdurate and\npitiless.\n\nHis stature was good without being very lofty. He had broad\nshoulders, rather long, sinewy arms, a deep chest, and, altogether,\na figure and person not lacking any token of agility, but more\nindicative of huge strength.\n\nHe wore sandals, the laces of which crossed each other up his mighty\nlegs, which were otherwise bare, and a white woollen _diphera_\ncovered his shoulders, and was belted round his waist.\n\n\"And who told you that you would find me here?\" asked Paulus; \"for a\nfew minutes ago I did not know I should find myself here.\"\n\n\"There goes the youth who told me,\" answered the other pointing, and\nat the same moment Paulus saw the slave, against whom he had walked\nin the passage, cross on tiptoe an angle of the court-yard, and\nvanish through a door on the opposite side.\n\n\"Claudius,\" continued the stranger, \"is an acquaintance of mine, and\nchancing to meet him as I entered the hostelry, I asked for you.\"\n\n\"And pray who are you, and what do you want with me?\" asked Paulus,\nafter the slave, who must, he now felt sure, be the Claudius to whom\nBenigna was betrothed, had disappeared.\n\n\"Who am I?\" returned the stranger; \"a good many people know my name,\nand my person, too. But that matters not for the present. Your second\nquestion is more immediately important. 'What do I want with you?'\nTo deliver to you a letter; nothing more. Understanding that I meant\nto stroll out in this direction, the distinguished tribune, Velleius\nPaterculus, requested me to hand you this.\"\n\nAnd he produced from a fold in the breast of his white woollen tunic\na letter, having a written address on one side, and a thread round\nits four ends, which thread was knotted on the side opposite to that\nbearing the superscription. The knot was secured by a waxen seal,\nupon which the scholarly writer had, in imitation of the deceased\nminister M\u00e6cenas, impressed the engraving of a frog.\n\nPaulus opened it and read what follows:\n\n\"To the noble Paulus \u00c6milius Lepidus, the younger, Velleius\nPaterculus sends greeting:\n\n\"Go where you like, amuse yourself as you like, do as you like--fish,\nride, walk, read, play, sing--provided you sleep each night at the\nPost House of the Hundredth Milestone, under the excellent Crispina's\nroof. Be careful of your health and welfare.\"\n\n\"So far so good,\" said Paulus; \"I am a prisoner, indeed, but with\na tolerable long tether, at least. I am much obliged to you for\nbringing me the letter.\"\n\n\"Imprisonment!\" observed the other. \"I have heard a knot of\ncenturions, and also soldiers unnumbered, talk of your imprisonment,\nand of the blow with which it seems to be connected. You are a\nfavorite, without knowing it, among the troops at Formi\u00e6. One fierce\nfellow swore, by quite a crowd of gods, that your blow deserved to\nhave freed a slave, instead of enslaving a knight; that is, to have\nfreed you had you been a slave, instead of enslaving you, who are\nalready a knight.\"\n\n\"I feel grateful to the soldiers,\" said Paulus. \"You are doubtless an\nofficer--a centurion, perhaps?\"\n\n\"Well, they do speak freely,\" replied the stranger, \"and so do I;\ntherefore you have made a fair guess; but you are wrong.\"\n\n\"Ah! well,\" said Paulus; \"thanks for your trouble, and farewell. I\nmust go.\"\n\n\"One word,\" persisted the other. \"I am a famous man, though you do\nnot seem to know it. The conqueror in thirty-nine single combats at\nRome, all of them mortal, and all against the best gladiators that\never fought in circus or in forum, stands before you. At present I\nam no longer obliged to fight in person. I keep the most invincible\n_familia_ of gladiators that Rome has hitherto known. You are aware\nof the change of morals and fashions; you are aware that even a\nsenator has been seen in the arena. Some day an emperor will descend\ninto our lists.\" (This, as the reader knows, really happened in\nthe course of time.) \"Join my family, my school; I am Thellus, the\nlanista.\"\n\n\"What!\" cried Paulus, his nostrils dilated, and his eyes flashing.\n\"In Greece, where I have been bred, gladiatorial shows are not so\nmuch as allowed by law, even though the gladiators should be all\nslaves; and because some senator has forgotten the respect due to\nthe senate and to himself, and has no sense either of decency or\nhumanity, you dare to propose to me, the nephew of a triumvir, the\nson of an honorable and a famous soldier--to me, the last of the\n\u00c6milians, to descend as a gladiator into the arena, and to join\nyour school, _mehercle!_ of uneducated, base-born, and mercenary\ncut-throats!\"\n\nThe lanista was so astounded by this unexpected burst of lofty\nindignation, and felt himself thrust morally to such a sudden\ndistance from the stripling, at least in the appearance of things,\nthat he uttered not one word for several instants. He glared in\nspeechless fury at the speaker, and when at length he found voice and\nideas he said,\n\n\"Do you know that I could take you in these unarmed hands, and tear\nyou limb from limb where you stand, as you would rend a chicken--do\nyou know that?\"\n\n\"I do not,\" said Paulus, in slow and significant accents, facing\nround at the same time upon the lanista with deliberate steadiness,\nand looking him fixedly in the face; \"but if you even could, it would\nsuit my humor better to be murdered where I am by a gladiator than to\nbe one.\"\n\n\"By the Capitoline Jove!\" cried Thellus, after another rather long,\ndoubtful pause, laughing vehemently, \"when I place your skill of\nfence, about which I have heard a particular account, by the side of\nyour high spirit, you really do make my mouth water to number you\namong my pupils. I have not a man in my _familia_ whom you would\nnot, when a little addition to your years shall have perfected your\nbodily vigor, stretch upon the sand in ten minutes. But what mean\nyou, after all? You do not wish to hurt my feelings, because I make\nyou a friendly offer in the best shape that my unlucky destiny and\nstate of life afford me the means of doing? Do you, then, so utterly\ndespise the gladiator? Have you reflected on it so deeply? Who,\nnevertheless, displays in a greater degree many of the severest and\nhighest virtues? Do you despise the man who despises life itself,\nwhen compared with honor in the only form in which honor is for him\naccessible? Answer that. Do you despise abstemiousness, fortitude,\nself-control, self-sacrifice, chastity, courage, endurance? Answer\nthat. Who is more dauntless in the combat, more sublimely unruffled\nwhen defeated, more invincibly silent under the agony of a violent\ndeath, accompanied by the hootings of pitiless derision, and _whose_\nderision, whose mockery, is the last sound in his ears? _Let that\npass._\n\n\"But who pays a dearer price for the applause of his fellow-men when\nit is his? Who serves them more desperately in the way in which they\ndesire to be, and will needs be, served? Who gives them the safe and\ncruel pleasures they demand more ungrudgingly, or under such awful\nconditions? Who comes forward to be mangled and destroyed with a\nmore smiling face, or a more indifferent mien? Who spurns ease, and\nsloth, and pleasure, and pain, and the sweet things of life, and\nthe bitter things of death, in order to show what manhood can dare\nand what manfulness can do, and in order to be thoroughly the man\nto the last, with the same constant and unconquerable mind, as the\nvery gladiator whom you thus insult? Women can often show _heroism_\nin pain while shrinking from danger; and, on the other hand, amidst\nthe general excitement and the contagious enthusiasm of an army in\nbattle, to fight pretty well, and then to howl without restraint in\nthe surgeon's hands, is the property of nearly all men. Some who face\ndanger badly endure anguish well; and many, again, who cannot support\npain will confront danger. But if you wish to name him who does both\nin perfection, and who practises that perfection habitually, you will\nname the gladiator. Nor is it pain of body alone, nor loss of life\nalone, which his calling trains him to undergo with alacrity. Are you\nsure that our motives are simply and solely that grovelling lust of\ngain which you imply? _Mercenary_ you dare to term us? Mercenary! The\ngambler is mercenary. Is the gladiator like your high-born voluntary\ngambler? Is the gladiator deaf to praise? Indifferent to admiration?\nReckless of your sympathy? Is he without other men's human ties and\naffections, as the gambler is? Has the gladiator no parents whom he\nfeeds with that blood which flows from his gashes? No wife whom he is\nall the time protecting with that lacerated and fearless breast? No\nchildren whom his toils, efforts, and sufferings are keeping out of\ndegradation, out of want, and out of that very arena which he treads\nwith a spirit that nothing can subdue, in order that those whom he\nloves may never enter it?\"\n\nWhile Thellus thus thundered with increasing and increasing\nvehemence, the clear-faced youth whom he addressed, and who had\nconfronted his words of menace without any emotion except that of\ninstinctive and settled defiance, was and appeared to be quite\noverwhelmed. Had Paulus been struck bodily, he could not have felt\nany thing like the pain he suffered. The words of the gladiator smote\nthe lad full to the heart, like stones shot from a catapult.\n\nThellus gazed thoughtfully at him during the pause which ensued, and\nthen resumed by exclaiming,\n\n\"Mercenary! that is, he takes pay. Does the author take pay? answer\nthat. Do the lawyer and soldier take pay? Does the magistrate take\npay? Does, or does not, the emperor take pay? Does the vestal virgin\nherself take pay? If the gladiator did, and suffered, and was all\nhe does, all he suffers, all he is, in mere sport, and at his own\npersonal expense, I suppose you would respect him. But I, Thellus--I,\nthe gladiator--I, the lanista--would scorn him, and spurn him, and\nspit upon him. Blame the community who go to these sports, and sit\nin shameless safety; blame the hundreds of thousands who succeed\nother hundreds of thousands to applaud us when we kill our beloved\ncomrades, and, at the same time, to howl and hoot over those same\nbrave friends whom we kill; blame those who, having cheered us when\nwe slew our faithful companions, yell at us in our own turn when we\nare slain; blame men for taking us when we are little children, and\nrearing us expressly to be fit for nothing else; blame men for taking\nthe little ones of captured warriors who have in vain defended their\nnative lands against the discipline and skill of Rome; blame men for\nmingling these poor infants in one college with the foundlings and\nthe slaves to whom law and positive necessity bequeath but one lot in\nthis life; blame those who thus provide for the deadly arena. Blame\nyour customs, blame your laws, blame your tyrannous institutions,\nagainst which the simplicity and trustfulness of boyish years can\nneither physically nor mentally struggle; blame, above all, your fine\ndames, more degraded--ay, far more degraded and more abased than the\nfamishing prostitutes who must perish of starvation, or be what they\nare; blame your fine dames, I say, who when, like the august Julia,\nthey import the thick silks of India, are not satisfied till they\npick them _thin_ and transparent before wearing them, lest their\ngarments should conceal their shame; and thus attired, pampered with\ndelicacies, gorged with food, heated with wine, surfeited with every\nluxury, reeking and horrible, know not what else to do to beguile the\nlanguid intervals of systematic wickedness, than to come to the arena\nand indulge in sweet emotions over the valiant and virtuous fathers\nof homes and hopes of families, who perish there in torture and in\nignominy for their pleasure.\"\n\n\"O God!\" cried young Paulus.\n\n\"Well may you,\" cried Thellus, \"be filled with horror. Ah! then,\nwhen will a god descend from heaven, and give us a new world? I\nhave one child in my home, a sweet, peaceful, natural-hearted,\nconscience-governed, loving little daughter. Her mother has gone\naway from me for ever to some world beyond death where more justice\nand more mercy prevail. The day when I lost her I had to fight in\nthe arena. _Eheu!_ She was anxious for me, she could not control\nher suspense; she saw the execrable Tiberius. Bah! do you think I'm\nafraid to speak? Of what should I be afraid? Thellus has been at the\nfuneral of fear; yes, this many a day,\" continued Thellus, raising\nhis voice; \"she came to the Statilian amphitheatre against my express\ncommand; she saw the execrable Tiberius, contrary to every custom,\nafter I had been victor in four fatal encounters, when I was worn\nout with fatigue, order me to meet a fresh antagonist; and looking\nup among the hundred thousand spectators, I beheld the sweet, loving\nface. I beheld the clasped and convulsive fingers. But, lo, who came\nforth to fight against me? Whom had the accursed man provided as\nmy next antagonist? Her only brother, poor Statius, whom Tiberius\nknew to be a gladiator, and whom he had thus selected for the more\nrefined excitement of the spectators to fight against Thellus; but,\nabove all, for his own more refined enjoyment, for the monster had\ntried and found my poor Alba incorruptible; and this was his revenge\nagainst a wretched gladiator and his faithful wife. Statius was no\nmatch for me; I tried to disarm him; after a while I succeeded,\nwounding him at the same time slightly. He fell, and his blood\ncolored the sand. I looked to the people; they looked to Tiberius,\nwaiting for the sign of mercy or execution. I was resolved in any\ncase not to be the slayer of Statius.\n\n\"The prince turned up his thumb, to intimate that I was to kill my\nwounded opponent. The amphitheatre then rang with a woman's scream,\nand the people, with one impulse, turned _down_ their hands. I bore\nStatius in my own arms out of the arena; but when I reached home, I\nfound my wife was near childbirth, delirious, and raving _against me_\nas the murderer of her brother. She died so, in my arms and in her\nbrother's. She left me my poor little Prudentia, who is dearer to me\nthan all this globe.\"\n\nAfter taking breath, he added, quoting Paulus's words,\n\n\"But we are a gang of base-born, uneducated, and mercenary\ncut-throats.\"\n\n\"Oh! forgive, forgive, forgive my words,\" exclaimed Paulus,\nstretching out both hands toward the gladiator.\n\nThellus took those hands and said,\n\n\"Why, I love you, lad. I love you like a son. I am not high-born\nenough to be father to the like of you; but it is not forbidden me to\nlove a noble youth who hates baseness and is ignorant of fear. I'll\ntell you more; but first answer me--are you of opinion, from what has\npassed between us, that Thellus is an uneducated man?\"\n\n\"I am afraid that you are better educated than I am.\"\n\n\"In any case,\" replied Thellus, \"I am ready to confess that the\nqualities and virtues exercised by gladiators are exercised for a\nwrong purpose, and in a wrong way. But tell me, why is bread made?\nYou will not say because bakers bake it. That would be a girl's\nanswer; it would be saying that a thing is because it is, or is made\nbecause it is made. Why is it made? Because it is wanted. Would\nbakers bake it if nobody ate it? If nobody wanted to live in a house,\nwould masons build any? or would there even be any masons? You could\nnot, I grant, have music if there were no musicians, if none wanted\nmusic. It is the gladiator, unquestionably, who does the fighting\nin the arena; but if none wanted the fighting, you would have no\ngladiators. I have told you how we are trepanned in helpless infancy;\nand not only reared, prepared, and fitted for this calling, but\nhopelessly unfitted for every other. We supply the spectacle--but who\ndesires the spectacle? It is not we; we are the only sufferers by it;\nwe detest it. But whatever in so dreadful and wicked a pastime can be\nnoble, courageous, unselfish, heroic, we the same, we the victims,\ngive and exhibit; and all the selfishness of it, all that is cowardly\nin it, all that is cruel, base, despicable, execrable, and accursed,\nsits on the benches, and applauds or yells in the wedges;[61] this\nyou, _you_, who go thither, and bring thither us, your victims, this\nyou produce, this is your contribution to it. Ours is honor, valor,\nskill, and dauntless death; yours, inhumanity, cowardice, baseness,\nluxurious ease, and a safe, lazy, and besotted life.\"\n\n\"It is true,\" said Paulus. \"Hideous are the pleasures, detestable\nthe glories of this gigantic empire; but _unless, as you say, a God\nhimself were to come down from heaven_, how will it ever be reformed?\"\n\n\"How, indeed?\" answered Thellus.\n\nLittle did they dream who a certain Child in Syria was, who had then\nentered his eleventh year!\n\n    TO BE CONTINUED.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[60] Greek, we may observe, was to the Romans of that age about as\nfamiliar as, and far more necessary than, French is to us. It was the\nvehicle of all philosophy, and the condition of all higher education.\nThe fashionable Romans used Greek phrases in conversation through\nvanity.\n\n[61] Juvenal, vi. 61.\n\n\n\n\nTHE POPE AND THE COUNCIL, BY JANUS.\n\n\nSince the apostolic bull convoking the General Council of the\nVatican, now in session, has been issued by Pius IX., an immense\nliterary activity has manifested itself in most countries about\nthe great and important questions which are supposed to claim the\nattention of that august assembly of the Catholic Church. Not only\nCatholic, but also Protestant reviews have engaged in various ways\nin the discussion of matters relating to the council. Very numerous,\nindeed, are the pamphlets--nay, books and volumes of greater\nimport--that have been published within the last ten months in Italy,\nBelgium, France, England, and Germany. It is particularly in this\nlatter country that publications concerning more or less the present\ncouncil have been most numerous, and prominent reviews have given\nable and elaborate notices of most of them. Several publications,\nof this character have been rendered accessible to Italian, French,\nand English readers, thus exhibiting the importance attached to them\noutside of Germany.\n\nIt is our present purpose to enter upon a closer examination of a\nwork which we have already briefly noticed in a former number, we\nmean the book, _The Pope and the Council, by Janus_, of which an\nauthorized translation appeared both in England and in this country.\n\nWe adduce this fact as a very peculiar one, which will cause still\ngreater surprise to the reader when he is informed that an authorized\nFrench translation appeared but a short time after the original\nitself.\n\nThe reader has already been told what he is to think of the\northodoxy of _Janus_, when his doctrines are judged by the criterion\nestablished by the church. But let us state here at once that we\nhave a right to apply the Catholic test to the doctrine set forth by\n_Janus_. For they, namely, the authors (p. 14,) expressly profess\nto be in communion with the Catholic Church, though \"inwardly\nseparated by a great gulf from those whose ideal of the church is an\nuniversal empire.\" The translator, too, presents _Janus_ as \"a work\nof _Catholic authorship_,\" and declares \"_the authors members of a\nschool, morally if not numerically strong, who yield to none in their\nloyal devotion to Catholic truth_!\"\n\nIn view of such declarations, we may proceed to inquire, What is the\naim of _Janus_? The authors can best answer this question; for, in\ntheir opinion, since the forgery of the Isidorian Decretals, about\nthe year 845, the primacy has been distorted and transformed.\n\n    \"The papacy, such as it has become, presents the appearance\n    of a disfiguring, sickly, and choking excrescence on the\n    organization of the church, hindering and decomposing the\n    action of its vital powers, and bringing manifold diseases in\n    its train.\"\n\nMoreover, _Janus_ boldly asserts _\u00e0 priori_ that the approaching\ncouncil will not enjoy that freedom of deliberation necessary to\nmake it truly \u0153cumenical.\n\n    \"The recently proclaimed council is to be held not only in\n    Italy, but in Rome itself; and already it has been announced\n    that, as the sixth Lateran Council, it will adhere faithfully\n    to the fifth. That is quite enough; it means this: that\n    whatever course the synod may take, one quality can never\n    be predicated of it, namely, that it has been a really free\n    council.\" (Pp. 345, 346.)\n\nThese extracts would be quite sufficient to show the aim of _Janus_,\nand his view of the \"pope and the council.\" How such harsh and\npreposterous language may be reconciled with _loyal devotion to\nCatholic truth_, and that _commendable piety_ which the authors of\n_Janus_ profess, we ask candid and impartial readers to decide.\n\n_Janus_ considers it to be true piety \"to expose the weak points\nof the papacy, denounce its faults, and purposely exhibit their\nmischievous results;\" appealing to a saying of St. Bernard, _Melius\nest ut scandalum oriatur, quam ut veritas relinquatur_. It is this\nintense love of truth which prompts _Janus_ \"to oppose, frankly\nand decisively, every disfigurement\" (p. 20) which the church has\nundergone for nearly a thousand years. \"_To ward off so fatal a\ncatastrophe_,\" with which the church is now threatened by the\ncouncil, the authors have attempted in this work to contribute to the\nawakening and direction of public opinion, (p. 27,) and have entered\nthis \"protest, based on history,\" and appeal to the \"thinkers among\nbelieving Christians,\" and are modest enough to hope that their\n\"labors will attract attention in scientific circles, and serve as a\ncontribution to ecclesiastical history.\" (Preface.)\n\nWe cannot, therefore, be surprised that a work with such a\n_scientific_ programme should have caused some sensation, even among\nCatholic theologians, many of whom were not slow to unmask the\n_historical representations_, and \"direct reference to original\nauthorities,\" of which _Janus_ makes such great parade. That\n_Janus_ was hailed with great delight, not only abroad but also in\nthis country, by an anti-Catholic press, and nearly all reviews or\nperiodicals, cannot be a matter of wonder, when we know that such\nallies as _Janus_ within our own pale are welcome to the enemies of\nthe church.\n\nIn England, _Janus_ was heralded by a grand preliminary and\nconcomitant flourish of trumpets. Every thing was done by a certain\nvery small but very zealous clique to give this book as great a\npublicity as possible.[62] The _North British Review_, the _Saturday\nReview_, and the _Academy_, have joined in one chorus of eulogy,\nexulting over the victory which they think _Janus_ has achieved.\nAmong the many admirers of _Janus_ in our country, suffice it to say\nthat one writer has been so fascinated by this \"_work, so entirely\nmade up of facts_,\" that he triumphantly exclaims, \"No one can help\nfeeling convinced of its veracity.\" Nay, more than this, the same\nreviewer pays a compliment to _Janus_ which, considering the source\nit comes from, involves a strange contradiction. It runs thus,\n\n    \"The author (_Janus_) shows himself throughout a _thorough_\n    Catholic, but an _earnest_ and liberal Christian, a learned\n    canonist, a faithful and discriminating historian.\"\n\nWithout further comments, we propose to meet _Janus_ and his admirers\nupon equal grounds, since it is their earnest wish\n\n    \"that the reader's attention should be exclusively concentrated\n    on the matter itself, and that, in the event of its evoking\n    controversy, no opportunity should be given for transferring\n    the dispute from the sphere of objective and scientific\n    investigation of the weighty questions under review.\" (P. 28.)\n\nWe have no reason to dread _that facts and \"original authorities\"\nmust and can speak for themselves_, and we too shall hope to see\nwhere the saying of Pope Innocent III. is verified, \"_Falsitas sub\nvelamine sanctitatis tolerari non debet_.\"\n\nIn presence of such a vast amount of matter as _Janus_ gives to his\nreaders, and we might say _en passant_ with such little semblance of\norder and system, it becomes necessary to confine our examination to\nthree leading points: 1. To the manner in which the investigation\nis conducted, or the scientific character of the work; 2. To the\northodoxy which the authors profess; 3. To the historical and\ncritical parts of the book.\n\n1. As is correctly stated in the \"Translator's Notice,\" the substance\nof the volume already appeared in a series of articles in the\n_Allgemeine Zeitung_, or Gazette of Augsburg, in March, 1869, under\nthe heading of \"The Council and the _Civilta_.\" In these articles,\n\"historical facts\" were brought forward, which called forth prompt\nand sharp answers from the Catholic reviews of Germany, where several\nfalsehoods were exposed and denounced as gross misrepresentations.\nWhen these articles were issued in their present form, the authors\nof _Janus_ took no notice of the exposure, but quietly dropped from\ntheir book these three mendacious statements. Not a word of apology\nor retractation was offered. An able theologian[63] has pointed out\nthese tactics of _Janus_; but, to our knowledge, no reply was given.\n\n    \"Our _Janus_,\" says the same critic, \"may feel quite at ease;\n    he will not be brought to the stake either for his historical\n    criticism, or even for his heresies; but he has branded himself\n    as a forger by the very act of spiriting away these lies, only\n    to come forward with a look of perfect innocence and palm off\n    upon the world others more numerous.\"\n\nIndeed, the new name of _Janus_, assumed by the authors, has also a\nfigurative meaning, inasmuch as a different face may be exhibited,\njust as the case may demand. _Janus_ declares his love and attachment\nto the church and the primacy, and regards it as a _complete\nmisapplication_ of the term _piety_ \"to conceal or color historical\nfacts and faulty institutions.\" (P. 20.)\n\nHence the inference will be legitimate to stigmatize as impious a\nmode of investigation which misstates and distorts historical facts,\nshaking at the very foundation both the church and the primacy. And\nthis is precisely what _Janus_ would accomplish, even contrary to\nhis own avowed intention. For, according to him, \"The primacy rests\non divine appointment;\" and still it has been transformed, and has\nbecome destructive to the church, rending asunder _that unity_ which\nto uphold and represent it had been instituted. (Pp. 18, 21.)\n\n    \"Since the ninth century, a transformation of the primacy,\n    artificial and sickly, the consequences of which have been the\n    splitting up of the previously united church into three great\n    ecclesiastical bodies, divided and at enmity with each other.\"\n\nIf such is the case, where, may we ask, is that primacy of _divine\ninstitution_ to be found?--that primacy ever-living and indefectible\nas the church herself. And yet, we have the word of _Janus_ for\nit, the primacy, divinely instituted as the centre of unity, has\nvirtually become extinct, and has failed to be the source and centre\nof unity. Did _Janus_ himself dare to face this inevitable and\nlogical conclusion?\n\n    \"The Roman bishops not only believed themselves to be in\n    possession of a divine right, and acted accordingly, but this\n    right was actually recognized by others.\" (P. 22.)\n\nHow is this profession to be reconciled with the following one, \"that\nthe form which this primacy took depended on the concessions of the\nparticular local churches\"?\n\nWhat the privileges were which Christ himself bestowed on the\nprimacy, _Janus nowhere_ attempts to state. Where, then, is his\nreason for asserting that the form which the primacy took depended on\nconcessions? Wherein consist the privileges inherent in the primacy\nby divine right, and which are those conceded by the local churches?\nUntil _Janus_ has distinctly defined these respective limits, with\nwhat show of logic and scientific process can he pronounce that for\neight centuries the primacy was _legitimately developed_, and since\nthe ninth century so fatally transformed and totally disfigured?\nTruly, if he had committed himself to any _precise_ theory,[64] he\nwould have exposed himself to an inglorious refutation; as it is now,\nhe has taken refuge in silence. And yet, in justice to himself, and\nin order to save his scientific reputation, _Janus_ was obliged to\ndefine these divine rights of the primacy before he could venture\nto say that they had been _fatally_ transformed; thus he is able\nto bring forward \"a very dark side of the history of the papacy.\"\nSuperficial minds may be ensnared by this deceitful procedure, but\nfair and scientific thinkers will rise indignantly and enter their\nsolemn protest against such an abuse of logic and history. Moreover,\nit is obvious that a primacy whose form, that is, rights inherent\nto it, are made dependent upon the consent of those over whom it\nis to be exercised, is illusory, and is a mere shadow. It is very\ndifficult to understand how such a novel mode of reasoning should\nhave escaped our authors, who have \"written under a deep sense of\nanxiety,\" and we fear that, by pledging their faith to such dogmas as\nthe infallibility of the church, and the divinely appointed primacy\nof St. Peter and his successors, in the person of the bishops of\nRome, they have either deluded themselves or hoped to delude others\nby hollow professions of faith and a hypocritical show of piety.\n\nThe authors, having thus left a wide and open field in which to lead\nastray and bewilder the minds of their readers, do not hesitate\nto assert, \"No one acquainted with church history will choose to\naffirm that the popes ever exercised a fixed primatial right in\nthe same way\" over the churches in different countries. Quite a\ncaptious and vague affirmation in each and every particular. Are\nwe to understand that, because the same primatial rights were not\neverywhere and uniformly exercised, there were no acknowledged rights\nof the primacy? And yet to this conclusion, however illogical,\nsuch a proposition would lead. If the Roman bishops have not at\nall times exercised the same rights over the churches in Egypt as\nover those of Africa or Gaul, it is simply owing to the different\ncondition of the various churches, where the exercise of such rights\nwas not necessary, and by the very nature of things varied to meet\nthe exigencies of the churches. What opinion would we form of a\nwriter--we may be permitted to use a familiar illustration--who, from\nthe fact that Congress did not at one time enforce the same article\nof our constitution in the State of Ohio as it did in Virginia,\nconcluded that this legislative body possessed not, or was not\nconscious of possessing, the same rights and power granted by the\nconstitution in Ohio as in Virginia? This is precisely what _Janus_\nwould induce his readers to believe regarding the rights of the\nprimacy. That the popes throughout the first centuries of the church\nexercised primatial rights, _Janus_ readily grants, and must grant\nfrom the position he assumes. Now, if the exercise of such rights\nover the various churches at different periods of the _ancient_\nchurch, taken _collectively_, _involve all those prerogatives_ which\nthe papacy has since claimed and enjoyed, we must of necessity infer\nthat the rights of the primacy, as understood and exercised at the\npresent period, are identical with those of the first eight centuries.\n\nThis we could prove by a \"work entirely made up of facts, and\nsupporting all statements by reference to the original authorities.\"\nYes, this has already been done by able and judicious historians;\namong the more modern ones we may appropriately challenge a careful\nperusal of the history of Dr. D\u00f6llinger,[65] in which a complete\nenumeration of the prerogatives exercised by the bishops of Rome\nover the whole church, both in the east and in the west, may be\nfound, together with a direct reference to many and unexceptionable\nhistorical facts. Under the present head we merely refer to the\naction of Pope St. Victor, in the second century, against the\nchurches of Asia Minor concerning the question of paschal celebration\nagainst the Quartodecimans; St. Stephen, against the Anabaptists\nin Africa; St. Cornelius, against Novatus and Felicissimus; St.\nDionysius, in the case of Paul of Samosata, Bishop of Antioch,\nwhen the Emperor Aurelian himself would not sustain him, and\nreferred to the Bishop of Rome for a final decision; all these\nstatements attested by such writers as Eusebius,[66] Socrates,[67]\nand Theodoret.[68] How about the appeal of the Montanists to the\nBishop of Rome, mentioned by Tertullian[69] himself? Did not Marcion\nrepair to Rome to obtain a reversal of the sentence passed against\nhim?[70] Did not that illustrious champion of faith, St. Athanasius\nof Alexandria, appeal to Pope Julius I. against the Arians, when\nthe Council of Sardica was convoked at the request of the pope\nin the year 343, and the supremacy of the Roman bishop solemnly\nacknowledged, to whom all must appeal for final sentence?[71]\n\n_Janus_, however, with this most conspicuous incident of history\nbefore him, says,\n\n    \"There is no mention of papal rights, or any reference to a\n    legally defined action of the Bishop of Rome in other churches,\n    with the single exception of the canon of Sardica, which never\n    obtained universally even in the west.\" (P. 23.)\n\nHaving produced one most remarkable instance of the application of\nthis canon of Sardica, we now must inform our readers that this same\n_canon_ of the Synod of Sardica was inserted in a Latin version of\na collection of canons known by the name of \"Prisca Collectio,\"[72]\nas early as the fifth century, and regarded as a code of laws\nattesting the tradition of the _ancient_ church, according to the\nmaxim of St. Vincent of Lerins, _Quod semper, quod ubique, quod ab\nomnibus creditum est_. In like manner did St. John Chrysostom, that\ngreat doctor of the eastern church, appeal to Pope Innocent I.,\nalthough his adversary, the usurper Theophilus, had sent delegates\nto Rome to gain the pontiff, who annulled all the acts of Theophilus\nand his party against the illustrious patriarch. The letter which\nSt. Chrysostom[73] wrote to the pope adds great strength to our\nargument. St. Cyprian, too, by whose authority our adversaries would\nfain triumph, sent the acts of synods held by himself to the Bishop\nof Rome for confirmation, and also asked St. Stephen to _depose_\nMarcion, Bishop of Arles, as being a partisan of Novatian, and to\nappoint another in his place. But we must ask pardon of the reader\nfor having already been too long in these references--though as yet\nwe have said nothing of the many acts and letters of Pope St. Leo\nthe Great--all of which demonstrate beyond the shadow of doubt that\nthe most ample exercise of _all primatial_ prerogatives was made\nin nearly all the churches of the Christian world. A rapid glance\nover the discourses and letters of the distinguished pontiff, in the\nvoluminous work of Ballerini, will corroborate our assertion in its\nwhole extent. What are we to think of these words of _Janus_, \"No one\nacquainted with church history will choose to affirm that the popes\never exercised a fixed primatial right\"? To us, it would seem nothing\nless than an appeal to the ignorance of his readers. A similar\nproceeding we notice in the following paragraph:\n\n    \"The well-known fact speaks clearly enough for itself, that\n    throughout the whole ancient canon law, whether in the\n    collections preserved in the eastern or the western church,\n    there is no mention made of papal rights.\"\n\nWe do not attribute such a confused and inaccurate knowledge to\n_Janus_, that he is not fully aware what all these collections\ncomprise. These collections or codes of law are pretty numerous,[74]\nboth in the Greek and in the Latin churches, and some of them contain\nbesides the \"Canones Apostolorum,\" not only many decrees of the\ncouncils, both particular and \u0153cumenical, that were held during\nthe third, fourth, and fifth centuries, but also the decretals of\nthe early popes. Thus, for instance, the collection made by the monk\nDionysius[75] comprises, in a chronological order, the decretals or\ndecrees of all the popes from St. Siricius, in the year 395, to\nSt. Anastasius II. in 486. Another Spanish collection of canons,\ncalled the _Liber Canonum_, is very comprehensive,[76] embracing the\ndecrees of all the synods that were held in the eastern and western\nchurches, together with the decretal letters of twenty popes from\nSt. Damasus to Gregory the Great. A similar collection of canons in\nAfrica was approved by the Synod of Carthage in 419. Now, according\nto our authors, in _all these collections_ \"no mention is made of\npapal rights, or any reference to a legally defined action of the\nBishop of Rome in other churches.\" Truly! we need but challenge an\nexamination of many decrees of synods, and of the official letters\nof the popes contained in these collections, and we shall find all\nprimatial rights fully exercised and universally acknowledged.\nWho does not know the splendid testimonies of the fathers in the\ncouncils of Ephesus and Chalcedon, both of which acknowledged in\ntheir acts the supremacy of the see of Rome! As to the many decretal\nletters of the popes, there are no more celebrated documents in\nearly history than the professions of faith given by Pope Celestine\nI. to the bishops of Gaul against Semipelagianism,[77] St. Boniface\nto the bishops of Illyria, St. Gelasius in a decree on _canonical_\nScripture and the well-known formula of Pope St. Hormisdas,[78]\nsubscribed to by the eastern bishops. By far the greater number of\nthese pontifical letters constituting those _collections_ imply one\nor another prerogative exercised by the bishops of Rome, who were\never conscious, even in _those early ages_, of being the supreme\nteachers and guardians of faith appointed by Christ himself. With\nwhat mien of self-sufficiency and confidence _Janus_ can style\na \"well-known fact,\" something of which just the very opposite\nresults from an inspection of historical records, is more than\nunintelligible in authors who make such ado about their scientific\nfairness. With a desire to save _Janus's_ reputation as a _learned\ncanonist_ and _faithful historian_, we must presume such a grave\nmisstatement wilful, and naturally enough he must have reckoned on\nreaders who have little or no knowledge of the \"ancient collections\nof the canons.\" Yet we must not fail to enter an energetic protest\nagainst these self-proclaimed \"scientific labors and contributions to\necclesiastical history.\" Is it by such unblushing assertions, without\nproof to sustain them, that the authors show their \"love and honor\nfor an institution\" which forms an essential part of the constitution\nof the church?\n\nThe whole introduction of this work, covering nearly thirty pages,\nexhibits a programme with summary indications, whence _Janus_\ninfers that with the present council the system of absolutism\nis to be crowned, and the church to come within the grasp of a\n\"powerful coalition.\" This great danger to the church the anonymous\nauthors feel in duty bound to avert, and to oppose this \"advancing\nflood-tide,\" in which we may discover another characteristic mode\nof warfare, since _Janus_ deems it necessary to \"assail a powerful\nparty, with clearly ascertained objects, which has gained a firm\nfooting through the wide ramifications of the Jesuit order.\" And this\nparty he can only attack by \"bringing forward a very dark side of the\nhistory of the papacy.\" Indeed, a singular mode of warfare, but one\nwhich presents no feature of novelty. Have not the Reformers of the\nsixteenth century, like most of their forerunners, concealed their\ntrue aim by attacking ostensibly the Curia, or some religious body,\nas Luther did the Dominicans, and in the seventeenth century did not\nthe Jansenists resort to a similar stratagem? Now, with such a clear\nprofession before us, why these assaults on the hierarchy and the\nchurch in general for the last thousand years? Why make the whole\nchurch accountable for the misdeeds and _menacing coalition_ of a\nparty? Why, as _faithful Catholics_, appeal, not to the council nor\nto the hierarchy, but \"to the thinkers among believing Christians\"?\n_Reformers_ before _Janus_ usually appealed from the popes to\ngeneral councils, but he surpasses them all by appealing neither to\nthe one nor to the other, but to the laity, who may even pronounce\non the \"reception or rejection of the council or its decisions.\"\nAssuredly no further arguments need be brought forward to satisfy\ncandid and discriminating minds that _Janus_ has ill succeeded in\nmasking his true purpose; nor can his professions of loving truth and\njustice stand the test of criticism, or the dignity of scientific\ninvestigation tolerate the insolent treatment it has suffered at the\nhands of _Janus_ and his school. For those among our readers who must\nbe shocked at seeing names of men distinguished for their learning\nand piety at a very critical period in Germany, quoted in support of\nthe opinions of this school of traitors, (pp. 16, 17,) we can say\nthat _Janus_, by attributing to such men a similarity of views with\nhimself, makes a gratuitous and bold assertion, corroborated by no\nreliable authority; only one name, that of the eccentric Baader,\nlends any probability to this impudent statement. But such names\nas Walter, Philipps, Hefele, Hagemann, Gfr\u00f6rer, and even D\u00f6llinger\nup to a certain time, renowned for their profound researches and\ncontributions to ecclesiastical history and jurisprudence, are\nstudiously omitted by _Janus_; nor would it have served his purpose,\nsince the eminent theologians just mentioned have undermined and\nexploded whatever scientific or historical basis Febronianism and\nGallicanism could boast of, and which _Janus_ would re\u00ebstablish. In\nsumming up our considerations on this point, we fully concur in the\nremarks of an able writer, that _Janus_\n\n    \"does his utmost to overthrow what is at present by far man's\n    strongest barrier against the rapid and violent inflowing\n    atheistic tide, without attempting to substitute another in its\n    place. If his book could exercise any real power, that power\n    would be put forth in favor of those whom the author agrees\n    with us in regarding as the most dangerous enemies of every\n    highest human interest.\"\n\nThis serious apprehension has been fully verified by the many\nadmirers _Janus_ has found in the hostile camp; nay, the apostate\nFroschhamer has even complimented _Janus_ publicly,[79] with only one\nrestriction, namely, that he has only gone half-way, and finds fault\nwith this inconsistency.\n\n2. We did not propose to content ourselves with the gratuitous\nassertion that _Janus_ is not \"throughout a thorough Catholic and\nearnest Christian;\" but we shall make it clear that he has already\nseceded from well-established points of doctrine, and even rendered\nhis scheme of reforming the church an impossible hypothesis. As\nwe have already stated, _Janus_ directs his attacks against a\n\"party\"--ultramontanism--which, he says, is \"essentially papalism.\"\n(P. 34.) But while professing to oppose an \"ultramontane scheme,\"\nhe finally arrives, by a very promiscuous array of _historical\nfacts_ and _scientific investigations_, at the conclusion that the\nentire church, led by the popes during the last thousand years, has\nbeen dragged into this gross error and devastating _torrent_ of\nultramontanism. By means of a _huge forgery_ the \"whole constitution\nand government of the church has been changed\"--that is, has become\na human institution, and lost its divine character. What, then, is\nthe result the writers of _Janus_ arrive at as to their own position?\n\"Inwardly a great gulf separates\" them from such a church and its\nchief pastor--that is, from Pius IX. and the episcopacy. For in\nanother place (p. 3) he affirms that the doctrines he attacks are\n\"identical with those of the chief head.\" Does it not follow from\nthese premises that _Janus_ excludes himself from this \"centre of\nunity,\" as the see of Rome has been called by St. Cyprian, Bishop\nof Carthage? Likewise St. Jerome, in his book against Rufinus, asks\nthe latter, \"Is your faith the faith of the Church of Rome? If so,\"\nhe adds, \"we are both Catholics.\" During the pontificate of St.\nHormisdas, from the year 514 to 523, two hundred and fifty bishops\nsigned a formulary sent them by the pope, in which they declared that\nthey who were not in all things in union with the apostolic see were\ncut off from communion with the Catholic Church.[80]\n\n    \"Sequentes in omnibus,\" says the text so forcibly, \"Apostolicam\n    Sedem et pr\u00e6dicantes ejus omnia constituta, spero ut in una\n    communione vobiscum, quam Sedes Apostolica pr\u00e6dicat, esse\n    merear, in qua est integra et verax Christian\u00e6 religionis\n    soliditas. Etiam sequestratos a communione Ecclesi\u00e6 Catholic\u00e6,\n    id est, non consentientes Sedi Apostolic\u00e6.\"[81]\n\nBy what right, then, or by what interpretation, we demand, can\n_Janus_ be called a \"thorough Catholic\"?\n\nThe unity and indefectibility of the church of Christ are essential\ndoctrines, most clearly and distinctly embodied in the sacred\nScriptures. But _Janus_ no longer admits them, as the following\npassages will show:\n\n    \"The previously united church has been split up into three\n    great ecclesiastical bodies, divided and at enmity with each\n    other.... When the presidency in the church became an empire,\n    ... then the _unity_ of _the church_, so firmly secured before,\n    was _broken_ up.\" (P. 21.)\n\nAccording to _Janus_, a \"great and searching reformation of the\nchurch is necessary;\" and, let it be understood, not in matters of\ndiscipline, which can vary, but in matters of faith--yes! in the most\nimportant points touching the divine constitution of the church.\n\n    \"The popes possessed none of the three powers which are the\n    proper attributes of sovereignty; neither the legislative, the\n    administrative, nor the judicial.\"\n\n    \"For a long time nothing was known in Rome of definite rights\n    bequeathed by Peter to his successors.\"\n\n    \"The bishops of Rome could neither exclude individuals nor\n    churches from the church universal.\" (Pp. 64, 66.)\n\nConfront these assertions with the few but remarkable facts already\ngiven from history, and what becomes of them?\n\n    \"There are many national churches which were never under Rome,\n    and never even had any intercourse with Rome.\" (P. 68.)\n\n_Janus_ then proceeds to give examples of such autonomous churches,\nand we confess that it has seldom been our lot to see any thing more\nvague and evasive.\n\nIn the first place, we refer to the letter of the Syrian bishops,\nwhich was read in the fifth session of the synod held in\nConstantinople in the year 536, by the Patriarch Mennas; moreover,\nthe profession which the Archimandrites and other Syrian monks sent\nto Pope Hormisdas, in which they plainly acknowledge and invoke the\nBishop of Rome as supreme guardian of the entire flock of Christ.\n\nIf the churches in Persia, in Armenia, and in Abyssinia, before they\nwere commingled and entangled with the different Gnostic sects\nand Monophysites, or Jacobites, were in union with the churches of\nAlexandria, of Antioch, and Constantinople, who, in their turn,\nrecognized the supremacy of the see of Rome, in what possible sense\ncan they be called _autonomous_? Frumentius had been ordained Bishop\nof Axuma, in Abyssinia, by St. Athanasius, Archbishop of Alexandria,\ntoward the year 326.[82] Will _Janus_ claim St. Athanasius as\nhis partisan respecting this autonomy? His attempt to claim the\nsame autonomy for the early Irish and British churches is no less\nhazardous, and we refer to Dr. D\u00f6llinger's history[83] for a\nrefutation of such claims. In this connection, however, it was only\nour purpose to prove from _Janus's_ own admission that the \"unity of\nthe church was broken up.\" Quite natural, too, since the \"centre of\nunity\" no longer preserved its divine mission and character!\n\nWe hasten to another grave charge against the orthodoxy of _Janus_,\nnamely, that he denies the primacy both in its divine institution\nand in its rights. The true primacy he reviles as \"papalism,\" and\nwould substitute a mere primacy of honor or \"presidency.\" For it\nwas only during a few centuries that the primacy had a _sound_\nand _natural_ development; since then it has become disfigured by\nhuman \"fabrications,\" and consequently exists no longer. Such being\nthe case, we are unable to discover even a supremacy of honor,\nlawfully exercised by the pope. We solicit a careful examination\nof the primacy as it appears in the _Ancient Constitution of the\nChurch_, and in the _Teachings of the Fathers_, (pp. 63-75,) and\nthe inevitable conclusion derived from those assumptions, sounding\nlike oracles of Delphi, will be this, the plenitude of power assumed\nand exercised by the Bishop of Rome over the whole church has no\nfoundation whatsoever, neither in the Scriptures, as interpreted\nby the fathers, nor in ancient tradition, but has been and still\nis an encroachment on the privileges of the particular churches, a\nusurpation exercised by force and oppression--in fine, an innovation\non the divine constitution given to the church by Christ. Every thing\nthat is advanced by _Janus_ purporting to trace historically the\norigin and causes of papal power and its \"unnatural development,\"\neven with that illustrious pontiff St. Leo the Great, (p. 67,)\ntaking up nearly two thirds of the volume, proves, if any thing,\nthat no special prerogative was given to St. Peter by Christ, and\nhence could not, of course, be \"hereditary in the line of Roman\nbishops.\" (P. 74.) The great _nightmare_ of _Janus_ is, indeed, the\npope's infallibility, or the supremacy of the Roman see in doctrinal\ndecisions; but while assaulting the former in a _p\u00eale-m\u00eale_ warfare,\nhe utterly destroys the primacy itself; though it would seem that\ninfallibility properly understood is but a corollary of the primacy\nitself. While professing to reject the doctrine of the \"papacy,\"\n_Janus_ discards a truly apostolic doctrine of the Catholic Church,\nand we cannot but suspect him of well-calculated dissimulation when\nhe says that the \"authors of the book profess their adherence to the\nconviction that the primacy rests on divine appointment.\" Contrast\nthis with the statements quoted, and we can hardly refrain from\nsentiments of abhorrence and indignation at such duplicity, as, on\nthe one hand, we find it stated that \"the ancient church found the\nneed of a bishop possessed of primatial authority,\" and, on the other\nhand, \"nothing was known of definite rights,\" and the \"same powers\nwere exercised by the bishop of Antioch, Jerusalem, or Alexandria.\"\n\nThe orthodoxy of _Janus_ and his abettors is impeachable in another\nno less serious point. The church has ever been conscious of her\nown infallibility, whereby she is protected from all error in\nteaching \"all truth to the nations;\" in other words, it has ever\nbeen firmly believed among Catholics that the _ecclesia docens_,\nor teaching church, succeeded to the divinely bestowed privilege\nof apostolic infallibility, and, whether congregated in council or\ndispersed throughout the world, is a true exponent of \"unity in faith\nand grace\" with her divine Founder. If this were not so, in what\npossible sense could the church be called \"a pillar and ground of\ntruth\"? Where would the assistance and guidance of the Holy Spirit\nhave any visible action or influence, if it be not to preserve her\n\"immaculate, holy, and pure\"? Hence, those beautiful images employed\nby the Apostle St. Paul, of the \"union of the body with the head,\" of\nthis truly _spiritual alliance of Christ with his spouse_, that is,\nthe church, through whose ministry the life of Christ descends from\nthe head to the members, Christ's life being nothing else but truth\nand grace.\n\nBut if we adopt _Janus's_ idea of the church, she has become as the\n\"harlot of Babylon,\" a depositary of falsehood and iniquity. For\nhe denies the unerring authority of \u0153cumenical councils under\nthe conditions in which it has always been received as a dogma by\nCatholic theologians. The oath of the bishops toward the apostolic\nsee, prescribed for many past centuries, is pronounced by _Janus_ as\nincompatible with \"that freedom of deliberation and voting\" which\nare essential to such an assembly. But, we may ask, does this oath\ninterfere in the least with the strict obligation of keeping the\nfaith intact and inviolable? Does this oath imply any violation\nof Catholic conscience? You might as well assert that the oath\ntaken by a member of Congress, or of a particular legislature, to\nsupport and abide by the constitution, interferes with his liberty\nof speaking and voting. In keeping with this hypothesis of _Janus_,\nall the councils that were held in the west, and universally\nacknowledged as \u0153cumenical, \"were perverted, and mere tools of\npapal domination--shadows of the councils of the ancient church.\" (P.\n154.) But the councils held in the east were truly \u0153cumenical,\nbecause the popes had _nothing_ to do with them, (pp. 63, 64;) but\nthe emperors, on the contrary, exercised all those prerogatives which\nthe popes afterward usurped; hence the councils in the west were but\na \"sham and mockery\" when compared to the _genuine_ \u0153cumenical\ncouncils held by the emperors, \"who sometimes trenched too closely\non this freedom.\" (P. 354.) Yet the weight of imperial power and\ndomination does not do away with that essential condition of an\n\u0153cumenical council. But with the popes the case is quite the\nreverse! Truly admirable logic of our _Janus_! He is not content with\nunprincipled expositions and illogical hypotheses, but resorts to\npositive _falsification_ of history when he says,\n\n    \"Neither the dogmatic nor the disciplinary decisions of these\n    councils (held in the east) required papal confirmation; for\n    their force and authority depended on the consent of the\n    church, as expressed in the synod, and afterward in the fact of\n    its being generally received.\"\n\nAnd again,\n\n    \"The popes took no part in convoking councils. All great\n    councils were convoked by the emperors; nor were the popes ever\n    consulted about it beforehand.\" (Pp. 63, 64.)\n\nWhat is the verdict of history on these points? That very\n_Latrocinium_ of Ephesus, in 449, which _Janus_ so adroitly would\nput among those councils that were regarded as \u0153cumenical, called\nforth a protest not only from Pope Leo the Great, but also from the\neastern bishops, because the ambitious Dioscorus assumed to himself\nthe right of presiding, and, as Prosper and Victor remark in their\nchronicles, \"usurped the prerogative of the supremacy.\" The most\nancient historians, Socrates, Sozomenus, and Theodoret, who continued\nthe church history of Eusebius, attest unanimously those prerogatives\nof the Roman bishop, which our authors would so boldly deny. Thus,\nSozomenus, in the third book of his history, chapter 10, says,\n\n    \"It is a pontifical law (\u03bd\u1f41\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2 \u0399\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u1f41\u03c2) that whatever has\n    been done without the judgment of the Roman bishop, be null and\n    void.\"\n\nSocrates, alluding to the Arian Synod of Antioch in \"Enc\u00e6niis,\" in\n431, by the adherents of Eusebius, Patriarch of Constantinople, and\nwhich pronounced the deposition of St. Athanasius, observes,\n\n    \"Neither Julius, the Bishop of Rome, was present, nor did he\n    send any one thither to take his place; though it is prohibited\n    by ecclesiastical law that any thing be decreed in the church\n    without the consent of the Roman pontiff.\"[84]\n\nWhen, therefore, St. Athanasius, together with Paul of\nConstantinople, Marcellus of Ancyra, and Asclepas of Gaza, sought\nthe protection of Pope Julius, the latter had their cause examined\nin a council held at Rome in 343, at which a great number of eastern\nbishops were present. Whereupon the pope declared the accused bishops\ninnocent, restored them to their sees, and severely censured those\nwho had concurred in the sentence of deposition against Athanasius\nand the other bishops. Let it be understood that the Arian bishops,\ntoo, on their part, had appealed to the same pope. The action taken\nby the Pontiff Julius in this grave affair is designated by the\nhistorian Socrates[85] as a \"prerogative of the Roman Church.\" In\nlike manner, Pelagius appealed to Pope Innocent I.; Nestorius, to\nPope Celestine, to whom St. Cyril of Alexandria had already reported.\n\nC\u00e6lestius, a disciple of Pelagius, already condemned by the Synod\nof Carthage, invoked the arbitration of Pope Zosimus;[86] Eutyches,\nhaving been excluded from the communion of the church by Flavian,\nPatriarch of Constantinople, appeals to Pope St. Leo, who in his turn\ncalls upon Flavian to give an account, which the latter does without\ndelay. The correspondence between Leo and Flavian on this point shows\nthe falsehood of _Janus's_ assertion, that the \"fathers had given the\nsee of Rome the privilege of final decision in appeals,\" (p. 66,)\nand that the \"bishops of Rome could exclude neither individuals nor\nchurches from the communion of the church universal.\" Who does not\nknow the remarkable words of St. Augustine, when Pelagius had been\ncondemned by the synods of Milevis and Carthage in 416, and still\npersisted to hold communion with the church? Pope Innocent ratified\nthe decrees of the synods, and the illustrious champion against\nPelagianism exclaims,\n\n    \"Two councils have already been sent to the apostolic see;\n    thence answer has been received; the case is terminated; may\n    the error too be ended.\"[87]\n\nVain, too, is the attempt of our authors to give dark colors to\nthe transactions between the fathers of the Council of Chalcedon\nand Pope St. Leo I. (P. 67.) Let us see what the fathers of this\ncouncil say to the pope, when they request him to sanction that\n_famous_ twenty-eighth canon, which the legates of Leo had refused\nto sanction. They say, \"Knowing that your holiness hearing (what has\nbeen decreed) will approve and confirm this synod and close their\npetition thus,\n\n    \"We therefore pray that by thy decrees thou wilt honor our\n    judgment, and we having in all things meet manifested our\n    accordance with the head, so also may thy highness fulfil what\n    is just. (\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03c9 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f23 \u03ba\u03bf\u03c1\u03c5\u03c6\u1f23 \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03c3\u1f76\u03bd \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03c0\u03bb\u03b7\u03c1\u1f61\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f78\n    \u03c0\u03c1\u1f11\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd.)\"[88]\n\nLeo I. did not sanction this twenty-eighth canon, for the very reason\nthat it implied, though in equivocal terms, that Rome obtained the\nprimacy on account of its political dignity.\n\nNor is it true that the fathers by this canon claimed \"equal rights\"\nfor the see of Constantinople; but merely _patriarchal_ rights and\nexemption from subordination to Alexandria and Antioch, as the\nsixth Nicene canon had ordained. Pope Leo I. in his letter[89] to\nthe Emperor Marcian affirmed that Constantinople was indeed an\n\"imperial,\" but no \"apostolic city.\" Compare this with the words of\n_Janus_, \"But when Leo had to deal with Byzantium and the east, he\nno longer dared to plead this argument.\" Anatolius, Patriarch of\nConstantinople at that period, previous to the Council of Chalcedon\nwas obliged to hold a synod in the presence of the papal legates,\nin which Leo's letter to Flavian was read and signed, and Eutyches\nsentenced and deposed. Even at the Council of Ephesus, in 431, St.\nCyril presided as plenipotentiary of Pope Celestine, who, upon a\nreport sent him by St. Cyril, had condemned the Nestorian errors\nin a synod held at Rome in 430, and summoned Nestorius to retract\nwithin ten days under pain of excommunication. How trivial, then, and\ncalculated to confuse the reader, must this remark of _Janus_ seem,\n\"At the two councils of Ephesus others presided.\" It is a well-known\nfact that the papal legates at the Council of Chalcedon declared that\nit was a high misdemeanor of the second assembly of Ephesus, in 449,\nand a crime in Dioscorus of Alexandria, that it was presumed to hold\na general council without the authority of the apostolic see; and\nDioscorus was accordingly deposed.\n\nThe Council of Chalcedon was not convoked before Pulcheria and\nMarcian had requested and obtained the consent of Pope Leo I., and at\nits termination the fathers said in their letter to the pope that he\nhad presided over them by his legates as the \"head over the members;\"\nand that the emperor had been present for the maintenance of decorum.\n\nWhy, then, allege such examples as the despotic actions of\nConstantius, against whom such great and distinguished bishops as\nSt. Athanasius, St. Hilary of Poitiers, and Lucifer, raised their\npastoral voice, when this same emperor so harassed the bishops at\nRimini and Seleucia in 359, aided by the cunning of Ursacius and\nValens, that they subscribed to an ambiguous but not heretical\nformulary. Wherefore, St. Jerome exclaims, \"Ingemuit totus orbis\net Arianum se esse miratus est.\" The purpose of _Janus_ in placing\nthese assemblies among other councils universally regarded as\n\u0153cumenical, appears, to say the least, suspicious! (P. 354, and\nTranslator's Notice.)\n\nWe might yet quote many examples to exhibit what must be styled\n_gross misrepresentation_ and _falsification_ of history on the part\nof _Janus_, when he thus plainly states that the popes were never\n_consulted_ when councils were convoked, nor _allowed_ to preside,\n_personally_ or by _deputy_--and \"it is clear that the popes did\nnot claim this as their exclusive right,\" (p. 63.) If any thing\nwere wanting to corroborate our argument, we need but allude to the\ndeclaration of the Patriarch Mennas of Constantinople, and many\nother eastern bishops. When the Emperor Justinian would continue the\ncouncil which was convoked with the express consent of Pope Vigilius,\nwho withdrew his permission after the emperor issued an edict on\nthe _three articles, (tria capitula,)_ the pope fled to Chalcedon,\nwhence he directed a letter to the whole church,[90] giving an\naccount of the deplorable state of things, adding that he had deposed\nthe haughty bishop, Theodorus of C\u00e6sarea, and suspended Mennas of\nConstantinople, with the bishops who took his part. The declaration\nmade by Mennas and other bishops, professing their entire submission,\naffords a most striking example of the supreme authority of the\napostolic see in the midst of such turmoil and religious disputes,\nthe pope being an exile and the bishops enjoying the protection of\nthe emperor; and hence not a vestige of coercion in their unqualified\ndeclaration, which we may be pardoned for subjoining here. It is as\nfollows,\n\n    \"Following the apostolic doctrine, and anxious to maintain\n    ecclesiastical unity, we are about to frame the present\n    declaration,[91] We receive and acknowledge the four holy\n    synods, ... and all other things that were decreed and written\n    in these same synods by common consent with the legates and\n    representatives of the apostolic see, not only in matters of\n    faith, but every thing that was so defined and enacted in all\n    other causes, judgments, constitutions, and ordinances we\n    promise hereby faithfully and inviolably to observe.\"[92]\n\nA circumstance which gives greater weight to this whole exposition\nis, that these councils were chiefly attended by eastern bishops,\namong them the patriarchs of Constantinople; and that the\nRoman pontiffs, though not personally present, still by their\nrepresentatives, who were not all bishops, exercised such high\nprerogatives. The emperors themselves recognized these rights of the\nsee of Rome both by their laws and public acts.[93]\n\nWe have been rather prolix, and have carried our examination further\nthan we intended; but it seemed necessary to sustain our charges\nagainst _Janus_ and his admirers by various and most unexceptionable\nauthorities from history, and the canons of the early councils. The\nsupremacy of the Bishop of Rome in _teaching_ and _governing_ the\nuniversal church, could not be exhibited in a more resplendent light\nthan in connection with general councils, those grand assemblies\nof the hierarchy of the church. Nothing, therefore, was better\ncalculated than the futile essays of the anonymous authors of _Janus_\nto depreciate and obliterate, if possible, these prerogatives of the\nRoman pontiffs in connection with \u0153cumenical councils, in order\nto lay the foundation of their hypothesis, that since the ninth\ncentury papal usurpation and ambition held high sway in the church,\n\"hindering and decomposing the action of its vital powers.\" How far\n_Janus_ has succeeded in finding such a _basis_ for _his edifice_ in\nhistory and in ancient canonical collections, how far his statements\nare supported by \"_reference_ to _original authorities_,\" the candid\nand judicious reader of church history will have been able to\ndecide. If _Janus_ asks the verdict of history for _his_ \"Ancient\nConstitution of the Church,\" that verdict cries aloud against such a\nmiserable caricature, and his appeal to past tradition is an appeal\nto ignorance or wilful prejudice. We have impeached his orthodoxy on\npoints of the very first importance, and in vain do we look for those\n\"original authorities\" which should verify his hypothesis of the\n\"ancient church.\"\n\nBefore summing up our arguments on this head, we will be allowed to\npoint out another serious and most pernicious error of _Janus_. He\nsays,\n\n    \"The force and authority of the decisions of councils depended\n    on the consent of the church, and on the fact of being\n    generally received.\" (Pp. 63, 64.)\n\nYet we must examine what is meant by this consent of the church; here\nis his theory:\n\n    \"When a council passes sentence on doctrine, it thereby gives\n    testimony to its truth. The bishops attest, each for his own\n    portion of the church, that a certain defined doctrine has\n    hitherto been taught and believed there; or they bear witness\n    that the doctrines hitherto believed, involve, as their\n    necessary consequence, some truth which may not yet have been\n    expressly formalized. As to whether this testimony has been\n    rightly given, whether freedom and unbiassed truthfulness\n    have prevailed among the assembled bishops--on that point the\n    church herself is the ultimate judge, by her _acceptance_ or\n    _rejection_ of the council or its decisions.\" (P. 334.)\n\nWhat a precious theory indeed of our authors! The teaching body\nin the church, or the hierarchy, are _mere_ witnesses in giving\ntestimony to the truth. But this testimony may ultimately be\nrejected; for whether such a testimony has been rightly rendered\nor not, is left to the decision of the church--consisting of the\nclergy and _laity_. Whence by a rigid conclusion it follows that the\n_highest tribunal_ of \"acceptance or rejection\" of the decisions of a\ngeneral council, is with the great mass of the faithful or \"thinkers\namong believing Christians.\" In view of such plain propositions,\nwe should like to be informed how inerrancy or infallibility can\nbe attributed to an \u0153cumenical council? We may then select any\ncouncil and doubt, as _thinking Christians_, \"whether freedom and\nunbiassed truthfulness have prevailed among the assembled bishops.\"\nAll certainty is excluded by such a theory, where the decisions of a\ngeneral council are only binding when accepted by the church outside\nof the council. This is nothing less than a complete negation of\ntraditional and sound Catholic doctrine--it is simply proclaiming\nthe broad Protestant dogma which grants the widest scope to the\nprivate judgment of the individual. In one direction have the authors\nof _Janus_ been consistent; for they purpose by their labors \"to\ncontribute to the awakening and direction of public opinion,\" which\nis the tribunal charged by _Janus_ to reject in advance the decrees\nof this council. (P. 345.) He himself makes an extensive use of this\ngreat privilege; for, according to him, since the ninth century\nthere were no truly \u0153cumenical councils; the whole church has\nbeen forced and cajoled into giving a wrong testimony. All councils\nsince the period just named have proclaimed the views and tenets of\na party as the constant belief of all Catholic Christendom. Such an\nissue _Janus_ would fain declare impossible. Alas! for his beautiful\ntheory, destroying with one hand what he would build up with the\nother.\n\n    \"The church in its totality is secured against false doctrine.\"\n\nThere is precisely the dilemma in which _Janus_ has involved himself.\nThe whole work from beginning to end is intended to show that the\nchurch has sunk into a labyrinth of errors, that she has radically\nchanged her ancient and divine constitution, that her centre of unity\nhas become disfigured and sickly, that her vital powers are in a\nstate of decomposition. Does all this not imply false doctrine? Has\nthe church not thereby fallen away from Christ and the apostles?\nPerhaps _Janus_ will say that it is only the _hierarchy_ that\n_erred_, not the \"thinkers among believing Christians,\" himself, of\ncourse, among the latter.\n\nWell may we inquire of _Janus_ and his _admirers_, What has become of\nthe promises made to the church by her divine Founder? Where is that\nspirit of truth to guide her through her pastors, the bishops united\nwith the supreme Head? Where is that firm rock against which the\ngates of hell shall not prevail?\n\nThese questions are so intimately connected with the whole divinely\nreared edifice of the church of Christ, that to deny what the\nauthors of _Janus_ have done is heresy in its worst form, as much as\nArianism, Pelagianism, or Nestorianism. We cannot withhold from our\nreaders the appreciation of a candid and thoughtful outsider on the\nposition _Janus_ has followed throughout his work:\n\n    \"If the liberal Catholicism of _Janus_ and his friends is\n    an infallible system, it is an infallible system which has\n    succumbed at once to a false pretence of infallibility on\n    one side and an openly-admitted fallibility on the other.\n    Now, infallibility which is beaten for centuries, _both_ by\n    a sham infallibility _and_ by admitted incapacity for true\n    infallibility, is infallibility of a very novel kind, very\n    difficult to imagine. It looks, at first glance, very like a\n    rather specially fallible kind of fallibility with a taste\n    for calling itself grand names. If _Janus_ and his friends\n    are right, no paradox of the Christian faith is half as great\n    as theirs, which maintains that the true infallibility of the\n    church has not only lain _perdu_ for centuries, but has been\n    impersonated by a growth of falsehood without any interposition\n    on the part of the divine source of infallibility. That, we\n    confess--with all our respect for the wish of _Janus_ to\n    enter a protest on behalf of liberty and civilization--we do\n    find a hypothesis somewhat hard even to listen to. A dumb\n    infallibility that cannot find its voice for centuries, even\n    to contradict the potent and ostentatious error that takes its\n    name in vain--is that the sort of divine authority to which\n    human reason will willingly go into captivity? But we might\n    sympathize with the authors of _Janus_, in spite of their\n    utterly untenable intellectual position, if they seemed to us\n    to have any clear advantage in moral earnestness and simplicity\n    over their opponents. But, while there is a certain school\n    of ultramontanes that simply and profoundly believes in the\n    infallibility of the pope, in spite of all the critical and\n    historical difficulties which the liberals ably parade and\n    sometimes even overstate, we find it hard to believe that the\n    latter believe cordially in any church infallibility at all.\"\n    (Quoted by the _Dublin Review_, January, from the _Spectator_,\n    November 6, 1869.)\n\n    TO BE CONTINUED.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[62] See _Dublin Review_ for January.\n\n[63] Rev. Dr. Scheeben in his pamphlet. Part iii.\n\n[64] The _negative account_ given in pp. 63-69 as the \"ancient\nconstitution of the church\" takes nothing from our argument.\n\n[65] London edition, 1840, vol. ii. pp. 204, 220.\n\n[66] H. E. v. 24, 25.\n\n[67] H. E. v. 22.\n\n[68] H\u00e6ret. fab., ii. 8, edit. Mansi, tom. i. p. 1003 sqq.\n\n[69] Adv. Prax. i.\n\n[70] Epiph. H\u00e6res. 42.\n\n[71] Socrat. H. E. ii. 15.\n\n[72] See Philipps's _Compend. of Can. Law_, vol. i. p. 45.\n\n[73] Galland, Bibl. t. viii. p. 569 sq.\n\n[74] See Ballerini, De Antiq. Collect. and Biblioth. Juris-Can. tom.\nii.\n\n[75] Died 536 A.D.\n\n[76] Migne, Patrol. tom. 84, gives this collection.\n\n[77] Denziger's Enchiridion, p. 29.\n\n[78] See Denziger, p. 47.\n\n[79] In the _Augsburg Gazette_, and in a separate pamphlet since\nissued.\n\n[80] See D\u00f6llinger's _History of the Church_, vol. ii. sect. iii. p.\n221.\n\n[81] Denzig. Enchir. p. 48.\n\n[82] Athanas. Apol. ad Constant. n. 31. Le Quien, Oriens Christian.\ntom. ii. p. 642.\n\n[83] Vol. ii. pp. 29, 35 sq.\n\n[84] H. E. 8. edit. Vales. tom. ii. p. 70, ch. 415.\n\n[85] H. E. ii. 15.\n\n[86] C\u00e6l. Symbol. ad Zosim. Mansi, tom. iv. pp. 325, 370.\n\n[87] August. Serm. 132, n. 10.\n\n[88] Ep. ad. Leon. 98, c. i. iv. Ball. edit. Harduin, tom. ii. pp.\n655-660.\n\n[89] Ep. 104, ad. Marc. c. iii.\n\n[90] (Vigil. Epist. ad Univ. Eccles. apud Mansi, tom. ix. pp. 50-61.)\n\n[91] Or petition, _libellus_.\n\n[92] Mansi, tom. ix. p. 62.\n\n[93] See D\u00f6lling. Ch. H. vol. ii. pp. 204, 205.\n\n\n\n\nTRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF THE REVUE DU MONDE CATHOLIQUE.\n\nTHE LITTLE WOODEN SHOE.\n\n\nJacques was a fisherman--a lucky one too. He had a little house,\nall his own, and, in it Jeanne who had been for seven years his\nwife, and Ange, the jolliest little scamp that ever romped about a\nfisherman's cottage. But these are not all his treasures. He has,\nbesides, a store of nets and a boat called the Fine-Anguille. The sea\nwas never yet too rough for either. For it never stormed until the\nFine-Anguille had come with her crew, snug and dry, to her mooring.\nThe captain of this frigate was Jacques; the mate--and what a mate he\nwas!--was Fanor, a Newfoundland, peer and prince of all dogs. Every\nbody knew the Fine-Anguille. Every body knew Fanor. And well it was\nfor many of them that they did. They had made his acquaintance under\nmemorable circumstances. For, when Fanor looked from his kennel at\nnight along the dark coast, he could see the glow of many a fireside\nwhich would have long been dark and cheerless if he had not rescued\nfrom the waves the strong arms that earned its fuel. Many a mother\nfelt something queer in her throat and in the corners of her eyes\nwhen she saw the great shaggy brute, and thought of a certain little\nhead that might long ago have been pillowed in the sea-weeds.\n\nBut when the feast of our Lady of Larmor came, ah! then Fanor was in\nhis glory. Did he walk in the procession? Of course he did! Did he\nnot know what was the proper thing for a respectable dog to do and\nwhere his right place was, after the banners? \"Ah!\" said Jacques,\n\"he's a Christian. He's no dog; he is almost a man.\"\n\nAfter Jacques, and Fine-Anguille, and the sea, Ange was the dearest\nfriend of this dog. Fanor paid the most delicate attentions to this\nlittle fellow. He kept back his strength and refrained from those\nboisterous leaps; he gave Ange a thousand tender caresses with his\ngreat cold nose and with his paw; and, when he licked his hands,\nhe scarcely moistened them. It was plain that he was in love with\nthis baby. And as for Jeanne, she loved nothing in the world besides\nJacques and Ange and the dog.\n\nFor you and me, and the thoughtless or busy world, what a grand sight\nto watch the sea in September! so deep, so dark, it falls and rises\nwith ever-increasing majesty. There is a menace in its ceaseless\nroll, its beauty is terribly grand, and from the shore we admire\nits strength and its immensity. But how differently it appears to\nthe poor fisher's wife! For her there is nothing to admire in the\nocean. For her it is only a source of anxiety and dread. How gloomy\nto her is the evening as it settles over this ever-tossing plain;\nhow her heart starts at the vague threats of the wind! This blue and\nwhite-crested mass is perhaps a shroud. Is there no moaning save that\nwhich the listless water makes? And, when the horizon lowers, is the\nwild call of the sea-bird the only strange cry that can be heard?\nAnd, as the wind sweeps from the stormy offing, we perhaps think it\nbeautiful. But to the fisher's wife it is dreadful. She fears for him\nwho toils in the abyss. What can a little shell like Fine-Anguille\nand a man and a dog do against the ocean?\n\nWe may say, \"How beautiful!\" But she cries, \"Holy Virgin! the sea is\ntoo high! Sweet Jesus! it blows too, too hard.\"\n\nOne day Jeanne was with Ange on the beach and Jacques was preparing\nFine-Anguille for fishing. Jeanne sat, knitting, by the water's side.\nAnge had kicked off one of his little wooden shoes, and with his\nrosy little foot was playing in the water. He laughed, he shouted,\nhe splashed the little waves that ran softly upon the sand. Ah! what\ngrand fun he was having.\n\nIt was evening. The setting sun bathed the entire coast in purple,\nand the water, still and peaceful, reflected this scene of splendor.\n\nAnge had tied a string to his little shoe and had thrown it out on\nthe water.\n\n\"Mamma,\" said he, \"look! see my Fine-Anguille! In a minute I am going\nto make a storm.\"\n\nAnd he splashed away with his bare foot.\n\nThe little shoe tossed from one side to another; finally it filled\nwith water. Jeanne looked up and said. \"Naughty boy! put on your\nshoe. Quick!\"\n\nJust then, somebody touched her shoulder. It was a stranger, from\nParis, perhaps. This seemed probable from the haughty air, which\npeople from the city always have, and also from his cold, harsh look\nand his pale countenance.\n\nJeanne was frightened.\n\n\"I want a boat,\" said this strange person, \"to go out into the\noffing.\" Jacques approached. \"If you like, sir, I am ready. Here,\nFanor!\"\n\n\"What! take that brute along with us? Horrid cur! He is filthy and\nsmells of old fish. I can't bear him for a companion.\"\n\n\"I will not go without my dog,\" said Jacques.\n\n\"Come!\" said the stranger, \"this beast is of no use. I will give you\na louis to leave the dog.\" Jacque looked at his wife hesitatingly.\nJeanne was pale. The stranger tossed the louis in his hand.\n\nJust then Ange cried, \"My shoe has gone to the bottom!\" And Jeanne\nsaid, \"Don't go without the dog.\"\n\nSoon the Fine-Anguille left the shore, and, breaking through the rosy\nwater, disappeared in the distance, like a faint cloud.\n\nJeanne turned again toward the house, carrying her child, whose\nlittle foot hung bare over her dress.\n\nWhen she reached the heights, she turned to scan the horizon. She saw\na thick gray band stretched along it. Seized with anxious foreboding,\nshe paused.\n\n\"Will it be fair?\" she asked of Father Lucas, the cow-herd. \"What\nsort of a night will they have over by the Thunder Rocks and the\nWhite Mare, and in the offing?\"\n\nFather Lucas, in turn, scanned the horizon. \"Fine-Anguille is a good\nsea boat!\" said he; and passed on with his cows.\n\n\"It is the wind!\" thought Jeanne, as Ange by an unconscious movement\ncovered his foot with her apron. \"It is the wind! God be merciful to\nus!\" Then she entered the house.\n\nAt ten o'clock gusts began to blow. The waves moaned piteously.\nJeanne could not sleep. But neither the moaning of wind nor wave\ncould disturb Ange as he lay wrapped snugly in his cradle. His mother\nstruck a light. One is not so much frightened when one can see\nclearly. Then it seems as if one could do any thing; but what can one\ndo against the wind?\n\n\"The wind! O my God! the wind,\" cried Jeanne. \"But, at any rate,\nFanor is with him!\"\n\nThen, as every thing creaked and moaned around her, she fell into a\nlight slumber. She saw the great sea with its frightful gulfs, its\nwhite yawning mouth and threatening rocks, and its deceitful shoals.\nShe saw her child on the beach, splashing the water with his naked\nfoot. She saw the little wooden shoe which had been ship-wrecked.\nThen she heard the voice of Ange murmuring, \"I'll make a storm!\"\n\nJeanne trembled.\n\nThen, as the roof of the cottage moved and creaked, she remembered\nhow the waves had entered the little shoe.\n\nAll at once she rose up and took Ange, fast asleep, in her arms. She\nthrew her cape over her shoulders. It was raining hard and the wind\nblew strongly. She lit a lantern; a sudden gust put it out, and she\nwas left in the black darkness. But the surf made so much noise that\nit served as a guide. She reached the beach in safety.\n\n\"Ange! O Ange! if Fine-Anguille has perished!\"\n\nThe belfry of Larmor stood black in the sombre night, and the sea\ndashed its white foam at the very steps of the church.\n\nJeanne seated herself on the damp sill, and, wrapping Ange in her\ncloak, waited with longing eyes, counting every wave.\n\nSlowly the day broke, and the storm abated as the sun rose. It\nshone first on the fortress of Port-Louis, then along the rest of\nthe coast; and Jeanne saw the little wooden shoe broken among the\npebbles--\"Broken! and yet so light! It ought to have floated!\"\n\nThen Jeanne saw the Fine-Anguille. Her sail was rent and tattered.\nHer broken mast hung half in the water. All that could be hoped was\nthat she might come in with the tide, and that Jacques would be able\nto avoid the rocks. Perhaps they still preserved their oars! As she\nlistened, she thought she heard them striking on the row-locks;\nbut no, it was the wind. The broken mast might still serve to hold\nthem off the rocks. Already she could hear Fanor's voice. But on\nthe heaving plain her glance could barely follow the little craft.\nFinally, as a sudden gust blew afresh, it disappeared altogether.\n\nJeanne closed her eyes. And, when they reopened, Jacques and Fanor\nwere beside her. Jacques was pale; Fanor with red, distended\nnostrils, and panting, shook the water from his shaggy coat.\n\n\"Wife,\" said Jacques, \"we have been very unlucky! We beat all\nnight against the wind. I wished to come in last evening after we\nhad doubled the citadel; I knew it would blow. But that fool of a\nParisian would see the offing! He is dead now. God have mercy on\nhim! I have never worked so hard in all my life! To lighten the boat\nhe wanted to drown Fanor. And when he saw the breakers, he would\njump overboard to swim. Fanor went after him and brought him to the\ngunwale; and, while I was lending him a hand, puff! we were all in\nthe water together. Holy Mother! how I did lay about me. I caught a\nplank. 'Hold on, Fanor!' said I. But Fanor had left the stranger and\nhad seized me by the collar. And so I made the shore. O the brave\nbeast! he's no dog; he is almost a man!\"\n\n\"And Fine-Anguille?\" said Jeanne.\n\n\"She will come in with the tide. She is as light as a wooden shoe.\"\n\n\n\n\nCARDINAL POLE.\n\n\nCardinal Pole was a representative man. As Archbishop of Canterbury\nhe stands in direct contrast to Cranmer. Each of these primates\nwas at the head of a host during a period of mortal conflict. They\nled respectively the forces of the old and of the new faith. Pole\nrepresented the Catholics of England, especially the wiser and better\npart of them. Cranmer was one of the feeblest and worst specimens of\nthe reformers. He had not even the unenviable merit of being true\nto his own principles. He could not stand the shock of battle, and\nthough a standard-bearer, he surrendered his colors in the hope of\nsaving his life. Pole, on the contrary, suffered persecution for\nrighteousness' sake, and the cruel fate of his mother and his near\nrelatives warned him but too plainly of the end that awaited him\nif he should ever come within reach of the tyrant. Let us trace\nhis history, though but in outline; for we shall find it full of\ninteresting matter, food for reflection, and lessons of piety.\nThere are many men of less importance and less merit whose lives\nare better known than his. One who enjoyed his friendship during\nmany years--Ludovico Beccatelli, Archbishop of Ragusa--has left us a\nrecord of his acts, and painted his character with a faithful hand.\nTo him principally, and to Cardinal Pole's own writings, we are\nindebted for what we have learned respecting him; for though much is\nto be found on the subject of his career in the pages of Lingard,\nStrype, Flanagan, Hume, Strickland, and Froude, it is to those higher\nsources especially, together with the state papers of the time, that\nevery one must remount who would obtain reliable information.\n\nIt was when Henry VII. had passed the middle of his reign, and\nAlexander VI. filled the papal chair, that Reginald Pole was born\nat Stowerton Castle in Staffordshire. His father was Sir Richard\nPole, (afterward Lord Montacute, or Montague,) a Welsh knight, and\nhis mother was Mary, Countess of Salisbury, daughter of that Duke of\nClarence whom Edward IV. drowned in a butt of Malmsey. He was the\ncousin also of Elizabeth, Queen of Henry VII. and mother of Henry\nVIII. He had thus all the advantages which people attach to high\ndescent, and no pains were spared to give him an education suited to\nhis rank and prospects. The monasteries were then schools for the\ninstruction of boys of good family, and to one of these Reginald was\nsent when a child. It was the Carthusian monastery at Shene, from\nwhence he was removed in time to Magdalen College, Oxford, where he\nlaid the foundation of his future learning, and was taught by the\ncelebrated Linacre, the preceptor of Prince Arthur, and physician to\nHenry VIII. and the Princess Mary.[94] His education was carried on\nat the cost of Henry; for which reason he often in after life spoke\nof the king with gratitude. He was but a boy when he obtained his\ndegree of B.A., and might (like Wolsey, who graduated at Oxford when\nfourteen years old) have been called the \"Boy Bachelor.\" He was also\nadmitted very early into deacons' orders; at seventeen he was made\nPrebendary of Salisbury; and at nineteen Dean of Wimborne and Exeter.\n\nThe reformation had not yet broken out. England was ruled without a\nparliament by the all-powerful minister Cardinal Wolsey; and Henry\nVIII., who had in 1513, when Pole was at Oxford, won the battle of\nthe Spurs and taken Tournay, appeared for a moment as a competitor\nfor the imperial crown on the death of Maximilian. It was part of\nhis good pleasure that Reginald Pole should be highly educated, and\naccordingly about the year 1520, when the youth was twenty years old,\nhe caused him to repair to the University of Padua to complete his\nstudies. Reginald resided in that seat of learning in great splendor.\nA numerous retinue attended him, and he enjoyed the society and\nesteem of many eminent persons, such as Bembo[95] and Sadolet.[96]\nHis morals were pure, his manners graceful, and his amiability made\nhim much beloved.\n\nAfter five years of university life, he returned to England, and was\nreceived by Henry with many marks of royal favor. But he shunned\nthe splendors and seductions of the court, and retired to a house\nthat had belonged to Dean Colet within the Carthusian monastery\nat Shene. Henry's erratic career had begun; and he was seeking to\nobtain a divorce from his faithful and virtuous wife, Catharine of\nAragon. Reginald earnestly desired to escape the complications that\nwere likely to ensue. He knew that a storm was gathering; and after\ntwo years of retirement at Shene, he obtained Henry's permission to\npursue his studies at the University of Paris.[97] He was not yet\npriests' orders, neither had he taken monastic vows. For this a\ncurious reason was assigned.\n\nAll the contemporaries of Queen Catharine affirm that she earnestly\ndesired a union in marriage between her daughter, the Princess Mary\nand Reginald Pole. His mother, the Countess of Salisbury, had always\nresided with Mary, and the biographers of Pole with one voice declare\nthat Mary had regarded him with favor from earliest childhood. We\nought not, however, to lay too much stress on this fact, since the\ndisparity of their ages was too great to admit of their being lovers\nat an early period of life. Reginald was sixteen years older than\nMary, yet it is not surprising that, when her proposed marriage with\nthe Emperor of Germany was broken off, and Reginald, having returned\nto England, appeared at court in his twenty-fifth year conspicuous\nfor the culture of his mind and the beauty of his person, the queen\nshould wish to see him become the husband of her child. He was of\nroyal blood, and very nearly resembled his ancestor Edward III. and\nhis great-uncle Edward IV. His portrait was taken by Michael Angelo\nfor that of the Saviour of men in the grand painting of the Raising\nof Lazarus. He revived, therefore, in his carriage and features the\nmemory of the heroic Plantagenets from whom he descended. Already\nrenowned for learning, and with a mind enriched with travel and\nresidence in foreign lands, he had frequent opportunities of seeing\nthe lovely Mary who would probably one day be Queen of England.\nLady Salisbury still lived with her, and she was both her relative\nand friend. The princess showed great partiality for the noble and\naccomplished Reginald; and at a much later period a marriage was\nproposed between them as a matter of state convenience, but without\nits being very long or seriously entertained.[98]\n\nReginald was not suffered to remain long in peace at the University\nof Paris. An order arrived requiring him to procure opinions\nfavorable to the divorce, in concert with Langet, the brother of the\nBishop of Bayonne. The task was ungrateful to him, full of danger,\nand hardly to be executed with a clear conscience. He resigned it\nto his colleague, and was soon recalled. He might have succeeded\nWolsey in the see of York, and possibly Warham in that of Canterbury,\nhad he been willing to pander to the vicious inclinations of his\nroyal master. He wavered, indeed, for a moment, and fancied he had\nfound an expedient by which he might satisfy Henry without wounding\nhis own conscience. He repaired to Whitehall Palace, and there, in\nthe stately gallery, he stood before the anti-christian king. He\nloved that king in spite of his wickedness; for he owed to him his\neducation, together with many dignities and splendors. He loved\nhim too well to deceive him. The truth could not be suppressed.\nIt wrought within him like a pent-up fire. His feelings overcame\nhim, and he burst into tears. It was enough to stir the king's\ndispleasure. It revealed the secret workings of Reginald's mind. The\ndivorce would be a crime--a horrible crime. The reasons assigned in\nits favor were flimsy deceits. The helpless queen and her daughter\nwould be victims moving all hearts to pity. Henry frowned, and his\nhand often sought the dagger's hilt; but though Reginald wept,\nit was not likely a Plantagenet should fear. Upon quitting the\ngallery, Reginald was loaded with the bitterest reproaches by his\nbrothers, and especially by Lord Montague. He was induced to write\nto the king. He explained his motives in language equally firm\nand temperate; and Henry, into whom the demons had not yet fully\nentered, took the letter, or professed to take it, in good part. He\ndeclared that he loved Pole in spite of his obstinacy, and that, if\nhis opinion were only favorable to the divorce, he should love him\nmore than any man in the kingdom. History has taught us how much\nhis love was worth; for his embraces were sure pledges of ruin and\ndestruction. He did not, however, withdraw Reginald's pension of five\nhundred crowns, but allowed him to leave England again.\n\nHaving emphatically declared his dissent from the resolutions of\nparliament and convocation, Pole found his position more and more\nuneasy. He turned his face again to the south, and in 1532 took up\nhis residence for a time at Avignon. During his absence the fatal\ndivorce was completed, and the doom of England as a Catholic country\nwas sealed. The thought of returning to it became distasteful; and\nhe retired to the monastery of Carpentras, and subsequently to his\nold quarters at Padua. His leave of absence was extended. He was\nenabled to visit Venice. His pension was duly paid; he received the\nrevenues of the deanery of Exeter, and was specially exempted from\nthe obligation of swearing allegiance to the children of Anne Boleyn.\nSo far forbearance was shown toward him, and he was not insensible to\nthe indulgence. He always in after life retained the same feelings,\nand even his bitterest invectives were softened with notes of love.\n\nIn the year 1535, when he was in his thirty-fifth year, (for, being\nborn in 1500, his years run with the century,) Pole was requested to\nsend in his opinion on the authority claimed in England by the see\nof Rome. A similar request was made to all other English noblemen and\ngentlemen; for Henry in his worst deeds endeavored to fortify himself\nby public opinion; and when doctors at the universities resisted his\nwill, he overcame their scruples by the help of menacing letters.[99]\nMr. Starkey, a personal acquaintance, was commissioned to correspond\nwith Pole, and he advised him to avoid his previous errors. He was\nto say distinctly and honestly whether he approved the divorce and\nthe separation from Rome--whether they were, in his opinion, right\nor wrong in the abstract, and not whether they might be defended on\ngrounds of expediency. He insisted the more on this distinction,\nbecause, as we have seen, when Pole was first consulted by Henry\nabout the separation from Catharine, he had hesitated, requested time\nfor consideration, and tried to discover reasons for complying with\nhis sovereign's wishes.\n\nBut years had passed since that trying occasion. The germs of evils\nhad rapidly developed. Henry's character had unfolded; Pole's had\nmatured. Their divergence had become antagonism; and Pole was in no\nway disposed to let the opportunity now afforded him escape. It was\nthe time to write what contemporaries widely scattered, and even\nposterity, might read. Brief answers to brief questions would do\nfor the king; but a volume would do better for Rome, the courts of\nEurope, the people of England, and the angry glances of the lawless\nprince himself. He intended it, no doubt, for Henry's perusal in the\nfirst instance; but he could hardly doubt that what he might speak in\nsecret chambers would be proclaimed from the house-tops. He showed\nthe manuscript in parts to Cardinal Contarini. The language was\nimpassioned and almost violent. The cardinal advised discretion, and\nended by protesting against what he considered fruitless invective.\nTo this Reginald replied that he knew the king's character well. He\nhad been too much flattered. No one had durst tell him the truth.\nHe could not be moved by gentleness. His eyes ought to be opened by\nthe plainest speaking, and the censures of the church ought long\nago to have fallen upon him. It was not for his sake only that Pole\nwrote; he had the welfare of the flock of Christ in his heart. He was\ndetermined to expose the matter fully, that king and people might be\nthoroughly warned.\n\nIn the mean time the emperor's designs on England were abandoned; and\nthe quarrel between him and Henry seemed likely to be brought to a\npeaceful issue. Thus one hope which Pole entertained of seeing divine\njudgments fall on the king of England was blighted. Yet his book must\nbe completed. The king must have the first reading of it. He would\nnot even submit it to Pope Paul III. through Cardinal Contarini.\nPerhaps he feared that his holiness would think it ill-timed or\nintemperate. We certainly find him lamenting that the pope did not\nconvince the emperor how much more blessed it would be to fight with\nHenry than with the Turks--to be the champion of the Christian faith\nin Europe, and drive back the fearful encroachments of heresy.[100]\n\nAt length, in May, 1536, Pole's _De Unitate Ecclesi\u00e6_, was completed.\nHis ardent disposition and his indignant piety found vent in this\ncomposition, and it rolled along like a river swollen by rains. The\nvery passages in it which Mr. Froude holds up to reprobation and\nscorn are those which Catholics in general will regard with the most\npleasure; they will strike upon their ears as the voice of one crying\nin the wilderness, and denouncing in just and measured terms the\ncrimes of a royal heresiarch. It will appear to them instinct with\naffection rather than hatred. \"I will cry in your ears,\" he says,\n\"as in the ears of a dead man--dead in your sins. I love you--wicked\nas you are, I love you. I hope for you, and may God hear my prayer.\nI should be a traitor did I conceal from you the truth. I owe my\nlearning to your care.\" He draws a hideous picture of Henry's guilt\nand presumption, and then proceeds to dissect a book which Henry\nhad sent him on the supremacy by Dr. Sampson, Bishop of Chichester.\nHe inveighs against the abuse which Henry made of his regal power,\nmaintaining that the king exists for the people, not the people for\nthe king. He makes the people the source of kingly power; and his\nwords, _populus regem procreat_, \"the people make the king,\" involve\na distinct denial of\n\n    \"The right divine of kings to govern wrong.\"\n\nHe subordinates the regal office to that of the priest, and\nin language singularly modern, he asserts that sovereigns are\nresponsible to their people, and that Henry, by breaking his\ncoronation oath, has forfeited his right to the crown, and justified\nthe rebellion of his subjects.\n\nThe third and most important section follows. It is addressed to\nHenry VIII., to England, to the emperor, and to the Spanish army. He\naccuses the king of intriguing with Mary Boleyn before his marriage\nwith Anne, and brands the \"supreme head of the church\" as the \"vilest\nof plunderers, a thief, and a robber.\" He relates in forcible\nlanguage the story of the martyrdom of Sir Thomas More, Bishop\nFisher, and the Charterhouse monks. He calls on England loudly to\nrebel.\n\n    \"O my country!\" he says, \"if any memory remains to you of your\n    ancient liberties, remember--remember the time when kings who\n    ruled over you unjustly were called to account by the authority\n    of your laws. They tell you that all is the king's. I tell you\n    that all is the commonwealth's. You my country, are all. The\n    king is but your servant and minister.\"\n\nNo trumpet of revolt could blow louder, yet Pole did not stop even\nhere. He proclaimed his intention of exciting the Emperor Charles to\ninvade England, and to assemble under his banner all those English\nwho remained true to God and his holy church. This part of the\ntreatise, when printed, was circulated as a pamphlet in the German\nStates. It protested that Pole acted in the love of his country, and\n\"in that love of the church which was given him by the Son of God.\"\nThe Spaniards above all men were bound in his view to vindicate the\nhonor of the noble daughter of Isabella of Castile, whom Henry had\ndivorced. The king of France, he believed, would make peace with the\nemperor, and at the pope's bidding undertake the chastisement of the\ntowering enemy of God and man.\n\nBut the address is not all rebuke and menace; the tones of wrath\nmelt into tenderness at the last, and die away in exhortation to\nrepentance and promises of mercy. It effected little. Catharine\nof Aragon died in Kimbolton Castle in the same year in which it\ncame to hand, and Anne Boleyn, four months later, passed from the\nbridal-chamber to the scaffold. Henry had broken for ever with the\nholy see, and England, torn from the centre of unity, sank and\nwandered in an abyss. The book was sent to England from Venice on\nthe 27th of May, 1536. It was accompanied by two letters, one to\nthe king, the other to Tunstall, Bishop of Durham. The bishop was to\nread for the king what was intended for his majesty only. By which\nwe must understand that, if the treatise produced the desired effect\non Henry's mind, it would be considered as a secret communication;\nbut if it failed, the author would then be at liberty to publish\nit to the world. It is not certain that Henry ever read it. He\nheard reports of it, however, from Tunstall and Starkey, and made\nno mystery of his displeasure to those around him. To Pole himself\nhe wrote briefly, requiring him to return to England and explain\nhis ideas more fully. Starkey and Tunstall wrote also, pointing out\nReginald's presumption, which, they said, if persevered in would\nbecome a crime, and urging him to return to England, and seek the\nking's pardon. Pole was far too astute to obey this summons. Other\nletters were addressed to him, and finding that he would not venture\non the English shore, Henry's agents tried to persuade him not to\npublish the work, and to give up or burn any copies of it which he\nmight have retained. But this request was as fruitless as the former.\nPole continued for a time to receive his pension, and his book,\nthe effects of which were likely to be formidable, was reserved in\nmanuscript till a fitting occasion for publishing it should arise.\n\nBeing an English subject, in the enjoyment of certain emoluments and\ndignities, Reginald Pole was not altogether free in his movements\nabroad. He could not accept an invitation from the pope to visit him\nat Rome without first obtaining Henry's permission, or without, at\nleast, expressing a hope that his majesty would not be offended if\nhe repaired to the eternal city. Henry did not deign to reply, but\nhe induced Reginald's mother and brothers, Cromwell, and his friends\nat home, together with some members of both houses of parliament,\nto endeavor to deter him from the journey and from accepting any\noffice that might be offered him in Rome. For a time, therefore, he\nresisted the importunities of his friend Contarini, and declined\nthe purple held out to him by Pope Paul III.; for he knew that in\naccepting it he should make the king his implacable enemy and expose\nhis family to cruel persecution. But other circumstances arose,\nwhich made the cardinalate appear desirable; and he accepted it\nabout Christmas, 1536,[101] and trusted that it might in the issue\naid him in accomplishing the main purpose of his life. That purpose\nwas the recovery of England, in part at least, if not entirely, to\nthe Catholic faith. The rising in England which he had predicted\nhad taken place. The suppression of the monasteries had filled the\nfaithful in the north with indignation, and from the Wash to the\nborders of Scotland the people in general flew to arms. They bore\non their standards the emblems of faith, and the image of Christ\ncrucified was carried in their front. The revolt was styled the\n\"Pilgrimage of Grace,\" and its object was not the overthrow of\nthe throne or the sovereign, but the removal from him of all evil\ncounsellors and \"villein's blood.\" It is deeply to the disgrace of\nEnglishmen that they did not rise to a man and support the cause of\nfreedom and religion against the worst of tyrants. Pole was anxious\nto afford the insurgents all the assistance in his power, and to\nremove from them and from the English in general any pretext for\nacquiescence in the changes forced upon them. A legate's commission\nwas granted him, and he was instructed to land in England, or to\nhover over its coasts in France or Flanders as circumstances might\nrequire.[102] He knew not whether the insurrection were crushed, or\nwhether Henry, on the contrary, were in the power of the rebels. He\ntherefore man\u0153uvred with the English government till things should\ntake a decisive turn, and executed his commission with delicacy and\ndexterity. His professed object was to receive in Flanders such\ncommissioners from the king as he might think proper to send for the\npurpose of discussing the points at issue between the government\nand the pope. He brought with him as credentials five letters; one\nto the Catholic people of England; a second to James of Scotland;\na third to Francis King of France; a fourth to the Regent of the\nNetherlands; and a fifth to the Prince Bishop of Liege. He was ready\nto treat with Henry on any reasonable terms, and hopes were still\nentertained at Rome of England's being reconciled to the holy see. He\nwas instructed to exhort the emperor and the King of France to cease\nhostilities against each other, and to turn their arms against the\nTurks. By this means they would forward the supreme pastor's design\nof convening a general council for the reformation of manners and the\nreconcilement of nations which had fallen from the faith to the unity\nof Christendom.\n\nNo sooner had Pole entered France than the English ambassador there\nrequired that he should be delivered up, and sent as a prisoner\nto England. The lengths to which Henry VIII. had gone altered the\nposition of his Catholic subjects, and to be faithful to God and\nthe holy see was to be nothing less than a traitor. Reginald Pole\nespecially had incurred this charge, and as soon as it suited Henry's\npurpose, he preferred it against him without scruple. The king of\nFrance refused to deliver him up, but he requested Pole not to\nask for an audience, and to prosecute his journey as speedily as\npossible. A treaty with England obliged the French government to\ngive no shelter to political offenders, and Pole was compelled to\nturn aside from Paris and repair to Cambray. His welcome there was\nno warmer than in France. The Regent of the Netherlands had been\nterrified by Henry, and Pole was conveyed under an escort to Liege.\nA price of fifty thousand crowns was put on his head by the king of\nEngland, and four thousand auxiliaries were offered to the emperor\nto aid him in his campaign against France, provided he would deliver\nup the person of the cardinal into Henry's hands. The hatred of the\nking became implacable, and he pursued Pole ever after with the most\nmurderous intentions.\n\nFrom his watch-tower at Liege, Reginald beheld with bitter regret the\nfailure of every attempt at insurrection in England. Alternate hopes\nand fears preyed on his mind. Conspiracy against the king seemed to\noffer the only chance of averting the triumph of Protestantism in\nEngland. Rebellion assumed in his eyes a sacred character, and every\ninsurgent who fell wore the glory of martyrdom. He would willingly\nhave seen his relations plotting against the author of untold evils\nto mankind. But a rumor was spread abroad of his life being in\ndanger; that assassins were employed by Henry to murder him; and the\nholy father, anxious to preserve so valuable a life, recalled him to\nItaly. He was bent on publishing his book in defence of the church's\nunity, and desired to do so under the pope's auspices. In a letter to\nhis secretary, Michael Throgmorton, Cromwell, who was then Henry's\nchief adviser, heaped reproaches upon Pole for his treason, dared\nhim to publish his book if he thought fit, defended his master's\nresistance of papal authority, and intimated that Henry could find\nmeans to avenge himself on Cardinal Pole, even though he should\nbe \"tied to the pope's girdle.\" The times, it must be confessed,\nwere most painful and trying; wickedness in high places forced many\npersons from their allegiance against their will who would have\nbeen, under happier circumstances, the most loyal and devoted of\nsubjects. The mind of Cardinal Pole was deeply imbued with a love of\nthe Catholic religion, and wherever he might be, whatever he might be\ndoing, his unique object was its re\u00ebstablishment in his beloved and\nnative land.\n\nIn June, 1538, we catch a glimpse of Cardinal Pole among the\norange-groves that skirt the water's edge on the beautiful bay of\nNice. Hither he came as attendant on the pope in a congress which\nresulted in a truce between France and Spain. But the name of Henry\nVIII. was not mentioned in the treaty on which the sovereigns agreed.\nThe pope and the princes were left free to act toward him or against\nhim as they might think fit.\n\nIn the beginning of the year 1539 Pole's book was printed, and sown\nbroadcast over Europe. Many additions had been made to it, and the\nexcesses into which King Henry had rushed increased the vehement\nindignation of the author. The pope, also, at the same time, issued\nhis bull of deposition against the apostate prince. His crimes could\nno longer be endured; the putrid member must be lopped off from the\nbody of the church. Cardinal Pole himself was despatched on another\nmission, the object of which was to arouse the Emperor Charles V.\nto an invasion of England. He addressed an apology to the emperor\nexplaining his conduct, lest his majesty should fail to see how\nfealty to the King of kings may sometimes oblige a subject to disown\nallegiance to an earthly sovereign.\n\nMeanwhile, another rising was meditated in England. The Pilgrimage of\nGrace had failed, but the moment was propitious for another attempt.\nThe Catholic forces of the empire would be stirred against Henry by\nthe pope and Cardinal Pole, and the pacification of Nice had brought\nEurope into the condition most adverse to the schismatic king. The\nplot was discovered by the government, and suspicions fell on the\nrelatives of Pole. He was believed to have been in correspondence\nwith them, and to have excited them to conspire and rebel. His\nbrother, Sir Geoffrey Pole, turned king's evidence, and his\naccusations were accepted as truthful; though the word of a traitor\nto his own party is as much to be despised as himself. Knowing, as\nwe do, that the heart of Cardinal Pole was burning with a desire of\nHenry's overthrow, it will be to us a question of small interest\nwhether he really instigated his friends to revolt or not. Neither\nshall we be very careful to inquire into the validity or invalidity\nof the charges against his kinsfolk. If faithful to the king, they\nwere unfaithful to God; if rebels against his authority, they were\nvaliant for the truth. The evidence obtained in their disfavor was\npresumptive only; it proved, indeed, something as to their general\ntendencies; but it was not sufficient for their just condemnation.\nThey had one crime which could not be pardoned; they were near\nrelations of Reginald Pole. The king had not a more dangerous enemy\nthan he beyond the seas; and the accused persons were all of them\nmore or less of royal blood; all capable, on occasion, of setting\nup a rival claim to the throne, and making their descent, titles,\nproperty, and influence means of supplanting the reigning prince.\nThe Marquis of Exeter, Lord Montague, and Sir Edward Neville were\nbeheaded on Tower Hill, December 9th, 1538.[103] Lady Salisbury\nwas made to endure a cruel imprisonment, and deprived of all her\nproperty; nor could she even purchase a warm garment to protect her\naged limbs.[104] When more than seventy years of age, she was brought\nto the block. \"Blessed are they that suffer for righteousness' sake,\"\nwere her last words. The effect of these judicial murders on Cardinal\nPole's mind may easily be conceived. Other injuries may be forgotten\nor forgiven, but this shedding of the blood of innocent and beloved\nrelatives is a crime that never ceases to cry to heaven for vengeance.\n\nPole's mission to Charles V. produced little effect. Some warlike\ndemonstrations were made against Henry, but the emperor soon assured\nthe legate that it was impossible for him at that time to proceed\nfurther. Reginald Pole was bitterly disappointed. Again his hope of\nthe church's triumph and Henry's discomfiture was blasted. He saw the\nwicked in great prosperity and flourishing like a green bay tree.\nBut his strength and consolation was in the inner life. \"For me,\" he\nwrote, \"the heavier the load of my affliction for God and the church,\nthe higher do I mount upon the ladder of felicity.\"[105] There were\nthose who accused him of nourishing a hope that he should one day be\nking of England; but perhaps they have ascribed to him what was only\nthe foolish dream of some fond admirers.\n\nThis legation was a mockery and a cross. He was bandied about from\nToledo to Avignon; from Charles V. to Francis. Neither sovereign\ncould be induced to unite against the king of England. Francis\nrefused to receive the legate unless he brought with him some written\npledge of the emperor's sincerity, and Charles refused to give that\npledge unless the cardinal had first been received by Francis. Pole\nsaw that he was cajoled by both.\n\nOnce more he vacated diplomatic functions. Once more he retired\nwithin the cloister at Carpentras,[106] to hide his face in mourning\nand prayer, to ponder the torments of his saintly mother, and fix\nhis weeping eyes in solitude on the image of his crucified Lord. The\nemperor had tamely declined to fight the battles of Jehovah, and\nhis supineness added wormwood to Pole's bitter cup. Paul III. had\ncompassion on his distress, and need of his counsels. He recalled him\nfrom his retreat near Avignon--from the ruins of the Temple of Diana\nat Carpentras, to the life and energy of Christian Rome.\n\nThe hatred of Henry toward Cardinal Pole was increased by this last\nattempt to band the most powerful princes of Europe against him.\n\"Judgment of treason\" was pronounced on him in England; and efforts\nwere made to induce foreign governments to deliver him up. His steps\nwere tracked by spies; his goings in and out were watched; and he\nbelieved the poniards of assassins to be often brandished near him.\nHis aged mother, the venerable Countess of Salisbury, was brought\nto the block,[107] as we have already mentioned. No examination had\nextracted evidence of her guilt; no ground for a criminal prosecution\ncould be discovered. She was attainted without previous trial or\nconfession; for Henry and his abject minion, Cromwell, were as\nindifferent to the forms of law as to the substance of justice. Her\nname, together with that of Pole's nephew, the son of Lord Montague,\nand that of Gertrude the Marchioness of Exeter, was introduced into\na bill of attainder, though neither of them had confessed any crime\nor had been placed upon trial with means of defence. The marchioness\nwas pardoned in six months; of the fate of the young man no record\nremains; but the aged countess, who was the last in a direct line of\nthe Plantagenets, who was the nearest relation in blood that Henry\nhad, and of whom in former days the king had often said that she was\nthe holiest woman in Christendom, was dragged from the tower to the\nscaffold after a confinement of two years, and commanded to lay her\nhead on the block.\n\n\"My head,\" she replied, \"never committed treason. If you will have\nit, you must take it as you can.\"\n\nThe executioner performed his office while the head was held down\nby force. Reginald Pole ever after regarded himself as the son of a\nmartyr, and accounted that a higher honor than to be born of a royal\nline.[108]\n\nHis long residence abroad after his mother's death was not marked\nby events of sufficient importance to require very special record.\nAt Rome, the pope granted him a guard, that he might be protected\nfrom plots against his life contrived by the revengeful Henry.\nHe corresponded largely with persons of distinction in various\ncountries, and his letters, which were published at Brescia (Brixia)\nin five volumes quarto, in 1754-57, under the editorship of Cardinal\nQuirinus, are highly circumstantial, and contain abundant matter of\nhistorical interest and closely connected with the lives of Pope\nPaul III., the Emperor Charles V., the King of Scots, Edward VI.,\nMary, and Elizabeth. In 1562, a work of his appeared, entitled,\n_De Concilio Liber_; and in the same year, at Rome, edited by P.\nManutius, _Reformatio Angli\u00e6, ex decretis Reginaldi Poli Cardinalis_.\nTwo volumes, quarto. The book on councils was written by Pole as\npresident of the Council of Trent in 1545; and Phillips, in his life\nof him,[109] speaks of it as\n\n    \"A treatise which, for perspicuity, good sense, and solid\n    reasoning, is equal to the importance of the occasion on which\n    it was written, and shows at once the reach and ease of the\n    author's genius, and the goodness of his heart. The preface by\n    Manutius is long, and one of the most elegant compositions in\n    the Latin language.\"\n\nCardinal Pole's life of exile, therefore, was neither idle nor\nfruitless. The labors which his hand then wrought remain to this day,\nand are highly prized by all who love to trace the stream of history\nto its fountain head. The year after Cromwell's disgrace and death\n(1541) Pole was appointed Governor of the Province of the Patrimony\nof St. Peter--the only part of the States of the Church which is now\nleft to the Bishop of Rome. By this kindness on the part of Paul\nIII., the cardinal was relieved of a disagreeable dependence on\nforeign princes for his daily expenses. His government was marked by\nwisdom, gentleness, and moderation. He always discouraged severity,\nthough he held firmly the right of the church to punish offenders.\nHis leisure hours were devoted to literature, and in the writings of\nancient and modern poets and sages he often forgot, for a time, the\nmiseries of his country, and the dangers which, even in Italy, beset\nhis own person.[110]\n\nDisorders among the clergy, a general corruption of morals, the\nschism of Luther, and the excesses of Calvin conspired to make a\ngeneral council the obvious and only remedy that could be applied.\nCardinal Pole and two other legates were nominated by Pope Paul\nIII. to preside at the Council of Trent in the year 1542. But the\nsittings were suspended amid the din of arms, and renewed three years\nlater in the same city. Cardinal Pole then presided again, having on\nhis journey been tracked from place to place by ruffians employed\nby Henry VIII. to dispatch him at all hazards. Such atrocity,\nhowever, did not exasperate Pole unduly, nor cause him to forfeit\nhis character for clemency and moderation. It was, on the contrary,\nobjected to him in Italy, as afterward in England, that he was too\nlenient. It was even laid to his charge, and made an argument against\nhis being raised to the popedom, that during his administration as\ngovernor two persons only had been put to death. He lived, alas! in\nan age when laws were sanguinary, and human life was comparatively of\ntrifling account.\n\nCardinal Pole rendered valuable assistance in the early stages of\nthe Council of Trent; but in 1546, he was obliged to discontinue\nhis sittings and retire, first to Padua, and afterward to Rome, in\nconsequence of ill health. The decree of the council concerning\njustification,[111] as it now stands, was revised and completed by\nhim. It is a monument of luminous and concise statement of scriptural\ntruth, and perfectly reconciles passages at first sight discrepant in\nthe epistles of St. Paul and St. James.\n\nWhen Henry VIII. was gone to his account, and the young Edward\nmounted the vacant throne, Cardinal Pole made two unsuccessful\nefforts to incline the thoughts of that young prince favorably toward\nthe true and ancient religion. But Edward VI. in his tender years\nwas surrounded by persons who made it their business to misrepresent\nevery thing connected with the Catholic Church. The boy-king was thus\nmade the tool and victim of crafty and ambitious men, who reared the\nstructure of their own fortunes out of a pile of sacrilege.\n\nWhen Paul III. died in November, 1549, Cardinal Pole was at the head\nof his council, and governor of Viterbo. The larger part of the\ncardinals were desirous of electing him to the vacant chair; but\nthe number of votes required being two thirds, the choice did not\nultimately fall on him. It was not the design of Providence that\nhe should either be pope of Rome or king of England; yet he was\nvery near being the successor of Paul III. on one occasion, and the\nhusband of Mary, Queen of England, on others. During the sitting of\nthe conclave he wrote an essay, which was afterward published, on\nthe duties of the papacy. But the period was not without its trials.\nEnvious detractors arose, and charged him not only with being too\nlenient in the government of Viterbo, but also with favoring the\nmodern errors. It often happens that when good men avoid severity,\ntheir clemency is blamed; when they are gentle and charitable toward\nheretics, their orthodoxy is impugned.\n\nThere was near the lake Benacus, (now Garda,) in the neighborhood\nof Verona, a spot named Maguzano, where stood, in Cardinal Pole's\ntime, a monastery of Benedictine monks. To this retreat the cardinal\nturned when, in 1553, he obtained the pope's consent to resign his\ngovernment of the province of Viterbo. His duties as governor had\ncompelled him frequently to visit Rome, and that city, which should\nhave been the abode of peace and piety, was filled with tumult and\ndiscord, in consequence of the dissensions between Julius and Henry\nII. of France. Many of the cardinal's dearest friends were no more.\nContarini, Bembo, Sadolet, Cortesius, Badia, and Giberti, Bishop\nof Verona, slept the sleep of death, while Flaminius and Victoria\nColonna, Marchioness of Pescara, had also gone down to the grave.\nCardinal Pole, therefore, was fain to retire beforehand from a\ntransitory world, and seek once more in the shade of the cloister the\npeace that passes all understanding and the prospect of a heaven near\nat hand.\n\nBut it was with him as with so many others who have betaken\nthemselves to a spiritual retreat, and bidden farewell to the busy\nworld at the very moment when Providence intended to call them into\ngreater publicity and more active service than ever. Edward VI. died\non the 6th of July, 1553, the same day of the same month on which\nhis father had stained his hands in the blood of Sir Thomas More.\nThe Princess Mary ascended the throne. She was a zealous Catholic,\nand if she had only understood the temper of her subjects; if she\nhad not attempted to annihilate a too powerful minority; if she had\nbeen content to encourage the ancient faith without persecuting the\nadherents of the new religion; if she had married an Englishman,\nor indeed any one but a Spaniard, to whom, on account of his\nnationality, her people were unalterably averse, she might have\nprolonged her life and made her reign happy; she might have been one\nof the greatest sovereigns of her age; she might have established\nCatholicity in England on a permanent footing; she might have\nbequeathed to her sister Elizabeth a system of tolerant government,\nand have taken it out of her power to persecute Catholics in her\nturn, and to supplant and vitiate entirely the old religion of the\nland.\n\nNo time was lost by the holy father, Julius III., in sending Cardinal\nPole to England as legate. Before setting out on his journey, he\nentered into correspondence with the queen, in order to be certified\nof her good dispositions, and received from her the warmest\nassurances of welcome and support.[112] She was, in fact, in the\nearly part of her reign, too eager to announce her future policy,\nand would have done more wisely if she had followed the counsel of\nthe Emperor Charles V., who warned her \"not to declare herself too\nopenly while the issue of affairs was yet uncertain.\" The successive\nrebellions of Northumberland in favor of Lady Jane Grey, and that\nof Sir Thomas Wyatt, ought to have made her be prudent, and avoid\nabove all things pressing matters to extremity. She knew how deeply\nthe nobles and rich men of her realm were implicated in the crime of\nsacrilege, and how tenaciously they clung to the spoils of abbeys\nand church lands of which they had become possessed. Scarcely a\nday passed without some indication of the insecurity of her tenure\nof power--without some warning of the necessity of ruling with\nimpartiality and moderation.[113]\n\nCardinal Pole was on his way to England, when he dispatched from\nthe Tyrol two messengers, one to the King of France, and the other\nto the emperor, informing them of his instructions to negotiate, if\npossible, a peace between them in the name of the pope. Charles V.,\nhowever, was by no means disposed to let Pole proceed quietly on\nhis journey. He was bent on marrying his son Philip to Mary, and he\nfeared that the cardinal might be either a rival of his son or an\nadversary of the match. He refused, therefore, to see the legate,\nstopped him in the heart of Germany, and caused him to return to\nDillingen, on the Danube. Here he received instructions from Rome\nto wait until circumstances should clear his path; and here too he\nlearned that the articles of the queen's marriage had been agreed\nto, and the rebellion of Sir Thomas Wyatt suppressed. But the chief\nobstacle to Pole's presence in England being removed, the emperor\nconsented to receive him at Brussels,[114] and Mary consulted him by\nletter as to the bishops whom she should appoint to fill the sees of\nthose whom she had removed. The new prelates were carefully selected;\nand when the Catholic religion was again proscribed in the succeeding\nreign, one of them only, Kitchin of Llandaff--the calamity of his\nsee--who had changed with every change of the court, abjured the\nfaith of Christ and adopted that of Queen Elizabeth.\n\nPole was still unable to obtain the emperor's permission to cross\nover to England, because the marriage of Mary with Philip had not\nyet been celebrated. The delay was truly afflictive to the cardinal\nand the queen, and the negotiations carried on by Pole between the\nemperor and the king of France produced little effect. At last the\nemperor yielded to Mary's entreaties; Pole's legatine powers, though\nalready very ample, were enlarged; and he was permitted to accept\nthe invitation of the Lords Paget and Hastings, with a train of\ngentlemen, sent to Brussels for the purpose of escorting him to his\nnative country. He was empowered to reconcile England to the holy see\non such conditions as he should think proper and feasible, particular\nfaculties being given to him to dispense with the restitution of\nchurch property and ecclesiastical revenues. His agreeable manners\nand amiable address pointed him out as the fittest man in the world\nto execute so difficult a commission; and the English ambassador at\nBrussels, writing of him to Mary, said,\n\n    \"His conversation is much above that of ordinary men, and\n    adorned with such qualities that I wish the man who likes\n    him the least in the kingdom were to converse with him but\n    one half-hour; it must be a stony heart which he does not\n    soften.\"[115]\n\nThe bill required for the reversal of Cardinal Pole's attainder was\npassed in November, 1554. It stated that the only reason for the\nattainder had been the cardinal's refusal to consent to the unlawful\ndivorce of Queen Mary's father and mother, and its repeal restored\nhim to all the rights which he had forfeited through his probity. The\nlegate having taken leave of the emperor, set out the next day in\nprincely style, accompanied by one hundred and twenty horse. A royal\nyacht and six men of war were in readiness to receive him at Calais.\nThe wind itself was propitious to his voyage, and, having been rough\nand contrary for several days, suddenly changed its direction, and\nwafted the apostolic messenger safely to the British shore.\n\nThe legate, when he landed at Dover, was received and welcomed by his\nnephew, Lord Montague. He was treated as one of the royal family, and\non his arrival at Gravesend, he was met by the Earl of Shrewsbury and\nthe Bishop of Durham. They presented him with the act by which his\nattainder was reversed; and in his character as legate he proceeded\nwith them up the Thames in a royal barge, at the head of which\nshone conspicuously his silver cross. Masses of spectators lined\nthe banks, and a large number of smaller barges followed him up the\nriver till he arrived at Whitehall, then the residence of the court.\nThe chancellor with many lords, the king, and the queen with the\nladies of her court, welcomed him with affectionate joy. The palace\nof Lambeth, which Cranmer had exchanged for a prison, was richly\nfurnished for his use, and on the morrow, the 28th of November, the\nlords and commons assembled expressly to hear from the legate's own\nlips the object of his coming. The address which he delivered was\nlong and impressive; it dwelt on the dismal condition of nations\ncut off from the unity of the church; and it set forth the abundant\nblessings which would follow from the purpose of the holy see and\nthe queen being accomplished in the formal reconciliation of England\nto the communion of the Bishop of Rome. On the next day, which was\nthe feast of St. Andrew, the parliament met again, together with the\nking, the queen, and the legate. The nation, like a scattered and\nharried flock, was received once more into the fold of the church\nby general consent, amid deep emotion, praises, and tears of joy.\nYet many who were present had misgivings about the permanence and\nsolidity of the union thus affected. They remembered the recent\nrebellion in favor of Lady Jane Grey, the rising of Sir Thomas\nWyatt, the countenance supposed to be given to the rebels by the\nPrincess Elizabeth, the extreme unpopularity of the Spanish alliance,\nand the haughty, violent character of Gardiner, the chancellor,\nand of Bonner, the Bishop of London.[116] Events unfortunately\njustified these apprehensions, and made the short reign of Mary, for\nreasons which we shall presently enumerate, a dismal failure and an\ninstalment of endless disaster.\n\nThe day after the reconciliation, the lord mayor and other civic\nauthorities waited on the legate, and requested him to honor the city\nwith a visit. Accordingly, on the first Sunday in Advent he went\nby water from Lambeth, landed at St. Paul's wharf, and proceeded\nin great pomp to the cathedral, where high mass was celebrated in\npresence of their majesties and the court. The sermon was preached\nby Gardiner, the Bishop of Winchester, who took occasion to confess\nthe share which he had in the national guilt, and to implore his\nhearers, who had been influenced by him when he went astray, to\nfollow him now that he had recovered the right path. It was certainly\nasking a good deal, since Gardiner himself had sat with Cranmer and\npronounced the sentence of divorce between the king and Catharine. He\nhad also maintained the royal supremacy, and sold his pen to Henry's\ncaprice.[117]\n\nThe bill which was framed to effect the restoration of the Catholic\nreligion in England was very comprehensive and carefully worded.\nIt distinguished minutely between the civil and ecclesiastical\njurisdictions, and guarded against what legists are accustomed to\nconsider the encroachments of the latter.[118] It secured to the\nowners of church lands the undisturbed possession of their property\nwherever it had been legally conveyanced; and without this concession\nthe legate's mission would have proved fruitless. It was followed by\na release of state prisoners, and by an embassy being sent to the\nRoman see. Before it had reached its destination, Pope Julius III.\ndied,[119] after a pontificate of five years. He was succeeded by\nMarcellus, who reigned only three weeks, and by his decease opened\nthe door for renewed exertions to raise Cardinal Pole to the papal\nchair. It was the third time that Pole's friends had used all their\ninfluence in his behalf. In the conclave which elected Julius III.,\nCardinal Farnese had nearly succeeded in procuring his election; in\nthe proceedings which issued in the choice of Marcellus, the same\ncardinal had obtained letters from the king of France in Pole's\nfavor; and now again, when Caraffa was chosen and took the name of\nPaul IV., it was not the fault of Philip, Mary, or Gardiner that the\ntiara did not light on the head of Reginald Pole.\n\nHaving mediated a peace successfully between France and the emperor,\nPole was appointed, by Philip's special request, chief of the\nprivy council. He was to be absent from the queen as little as\npossible, and nothing of importance was to be undertaken without\nhis concurrence. Pope Paul IV., however, did not look favorably on\nCardinal Pole, and had, even at this time, some thought of recalling\nhim to Rome. Meanwhile the legate with Gardiner made a slight attempt\nto arouse the University of Oxford from its lethargy in respect to\nhuman learning, and a short time afterward, before the end of the\nyear 1555, Gardiner being dead, the cardinal convoked a national\nsynod to consider the disorders of the period, and the best means of\nstemming the torrent of depraved morals and strange forms of unbelief.\n\nIt is not our purpose to enter into the history of the severe\nmeasures which were adopted for the extirpation of heresy in England,\nand which we may, with the light which subsequent events have cast\nupon them, with reason suspect to have been extreme and injudicious.\nWe are concerned only with the history of Cardinal Pole, and every\nthing goes to prove that he always preferred lenient to severe\nmeasures, so far as he considered it compatible with the welfare\nof religion and the safety of the throne. As for Cranmer, Latimer,\nRidley, and other principal personages who were put to death, they\ndeserved their fate on account of the numerous treasons and crimes\nwhich they had committed, or to which they had been accessory;\nand Elizabeth herself might with perfect justice have been brought\nto the block, from which she was saved only by the influence of\nGardiner, for conspiring against the crown of her sister. The whole\nnumber of victims brought to the scaffold was only from two to four\nhundred, and numbers of those who escaped into Ireland were sheltered\nand concealed from legal pursuit by the Irish Catholics, who have\nsuffered death by thousands for the sake of religion, but have\nscarcely ever inflicted it on others. The fanatics and demagogues,\nwho with the cowardly and blood-thirsty instincts of their species\nare seeking to stir up the American people, \"who will not rise, in\nspite of their prayers and their prophecies,\" against the Irish\nCatholics of the United States, will do well to remember this fact,\nor rather, as such persons always forget what does not suit their\npurpose, the intelligent and honest citizens of this republic will do\nwell to remember it, when these mischief-makers attribute to their\nCatholic fellow-citizens any ulterior design or hope of ever seeking\nto propagate their religion in this country by violent means.\n\nAs for Cardinal Pole himself, even Mr. Froude acknowledges that he\nwas \"not cruel.\" Burnet testifies that he rescued the inhabitants\nof his own district who were condemned to death from the hand of\nBonner.[120] His secretary, Beccatelli, informs us that \"he used\nhis best endeavors that the sectaries might be treated with lenity,\nand no capital punishment inflicted on them;\"[121] and he himself\ndeclares that he approved of putting heretics to death only in\nextreme cases.[122] Rigorous and severe punishments upon all classes\nof offenders, coercive measures and the stern exercise of authority\nwere, however, according to the spirit of that age in every country,\nand it is not strange that the milder counsels of the gentle Pole\nwere over-ruled, and that he was unable to hinder the executions\ndesired by those who had the supreme power of the law in their\nhands. The administration of Mary was severe and despotic. Yet it\nis false to say that in her spirit and intentions she was cruel or\ntyrannical. What appears to us like an unnecessary and even impolitic\nrigor and vindictiveness against those who, by the laws of England,\nwere rebels against both the civil and ecclesiastical authorities of\nthe realm, was to a great extent due to the importunate counsels of\nthe lay-lords. Even Bonner and Gardiner would gladly have pursued a\nmilder policy, and the majority of the bishops and ecclesiastics,\nnotwithstanding the atrocious persecutions to which they had been\nsubjected under Henry and Edward, would have cordially sustained\ntheir primate if he had been left free to exercise his authority\nunimpeded by the interference of the civil power. Yet, though Mary's\npolicy was severe, it was mercy itself compared to that of Henry,\nElizabeth, and their Protestant successors. It is not only an\natrocious calumny; it is a grim and dismal jest for the panegyrists\nof Elizabeth, and the exculpators of the hideous massacres of\nCromwell, to affix the epithet of \"bloody\" to Queen Mary.[123]\nMoreover, it is not a mere question of a greater or lesser amount of\nbloodshed which should govern our award of justice in respect to the\ntwo cases. There is a difference of principle in the case, which an\nimpartial Jew, Mohammedan, infidel, or even Protestant can and ought\nto admit, as some have admitted. Those persons who, in England or\nelsewhere, have been put to death by the civil power for the crime\nof heresy under the Catholic law, have been condemned for abjuring\nthat religion in which they had been brought up, and which had been\npart of the law of the land, as well as the universal and traditional\nbelief of the nation, from the beginning of its formation, or at\nleast for centuries. Even if the principles of law by which they\nwere condemned are pronounced tyrannical and unjust, it is plain\nthat there is no parity between the case of a ruler acting on such\nprinciples, in common with other rulers of the time and of past\nages, and according to maxims universally approved by jurists and\nstatesmen, and one who compels his subjects to renounce their ancient\nlaws and religion, and to abjure the faith in which they have been\neducated, at his individual whim and caprice. But although we are\nnot disposed to abandon Queen Mary to her calumniators, we may give\nto Cardinal Pole the high honor of having been wiser than she was,\nor than her other counsellors were, and of having been in advance of\nthe general spirit of his age in regard to the wisest and best method\nof treating religious errors, which had taken too deep a root to be\nsummarily plucked up by a violent effort; and with these few remarks\nupon a topic which requires much greater space for a satisfactory\ndiscussion, we proceed with the personal history of the cardinal.\n\nAfter Cranmer's execution, Cardinal Pole, who had hitherto been\nin deacons' orders, was ordained priest, consecrated bishop, and\ninvested with the pallium as Archbishop of Canterbury. His works\nof piety were numerous; he founded religious houses, preached,\nprayed, and watched for souls in all respects as one that must give\naccount. He was made chancellor of the University of Oxford, by the\nresignation of Sir John Mason, and chancellor of that of Cambridge\nalso, on the death of Gardiner.\n\nTo a sensitive mind there is no greater anguish than that which\nsprings from the hostility of those whom it has faithfully served.\nThis suffering it was Cardinal Pole's lot to incur. His whole life\nhad been devoted to God, the church, and the holy see. For these he\nhad endured exile, persecution, and the loss of all things. For their\nsakes he had seen his mother and his dearest relatives dragged to the\nscaffold. In their cause he had studied, written, toiled, prayed, and\nwept till his hairs were gray. As their defender and champion he had\nbeen welcomed to England by his cousin and sovereign, raised to the\nhead of the English church, and made the chief instrument in bringing\nback the ancient religion. But having done so, having given every\nproof a prelate could give of his devoted attachment to his religion,\nhaving twice been on the very steps of the papal throne, with what\nagony must his spirit have been tortured when he found, as he did\nfind, that he was in disfavor with Paul IV.; that he was superseded\nas legate; that he was recalled to Rome; and that, to crown the cup\nof bitterness, he and his friend, Cardinal Morone, were to answer to\na charge of heterodoxy before the Inquisition.[124]\n\n    \"Does Almighty God, therefore,\" he wrote to the pontiff,[125]\n    \"require that a parent should slay his child? Once, indeed,\n    he gave this precept when he commanded Abraham to offer\n    in sacrifice his son Isaac, whom he tenderly loved, and\n    through whom all the promises made to the father were to be\n    accomplished. And what are now the preparations your holiness\n    is making but so many forerunners of the sacrifice of my better\n    life, that is, of my reputation? For in how wretched a sense\n    must that pastor be said to live who has lost with his flock\n    the credit of an upright belief?... Is this sword of anguish,\n    with which you are about to pierce my soul, the return I am to\n    receive for all my services?\"\n\nHappily for the cardinal, Mary and Philip took his part. They\nremonstrated with the pope on the loss which they and their subjects\nwould sustain if Pole were recalled, and they prevailed with the\nholy father so far that he consented to the cardinal's retaining the\nsee of Canterbury, while he appointed Peto, the Greenwich friar,\nto supersede him as legate. Quite in the spirit of her father,\nMary caused the nuncio who brought this decision to England to be\narrested, and interdicted Peto from accepting the legatine office.\nHe never received any official notice of his appointment, nor Pole\nof the papal decision. He was, however, too loyal a subject of the\npope to avail himself of this regal interference. He ceased to act\nas legate, and sent his chancellor to Rome with entreaties and\nprotests. Again the pope required that Pole should appear in Rome to\nclear himself from the charge of heresy; and Peto was summoned there\nalso to assist the pontiff with his advice. Proceedings against the\nEnglish cardinal were already commenced, and the distressing state\nof things was set at rest only by the death of some of the principal\nactors. Peto, the rival legate, died, and while the affair was still\nin suspense the grave closed over the disappointed, despairing queen,\nand the broken-hearted[126] cardinal. He was attacked by a quartan\nague, and, feeling conscious of his approaching end, he made a\nwill, in which he protested his attachment to the Church of Rome and\nespecially to Pope Paul IV., from whom he had experienced treatment\nwhich seemed equally inexplicable and unkind. His last hours were\npassed in acts of devotion, and it was probably with supreme\nsatisfaction that he laid his aching head on the pillow of death on\nthe morning of the 18th of November, 1558. His friend, cousin, and\nsovereign had preceded him in the dark valley by only twenty-two\nhours, and he felt, no doubt, that his most powerful if not his best\nfriend was no more. Elizabeth was already queen, and her Protestant\ntendencies were well known. There was every reason to suspect that\nshe would reverse the religious system restored by her sister, and\ntake advantage of the general unpopularity which Mary by her severity\nhad incurred. There was one object only for which Cardinal Pole could\nreasonably wish to prolong his life, and that was to clear himself\nfrom the extraordinary charge which had been brought against him by\ncalumniators. But it was the will of Providence that his fair and\nunspotted fame should be vindicated only after his death.\n\nDuring forty days the palace at Lambeth was hung with black. An altar\nwas placed in the apartment of the deceased cardinal, and masses\nwere said constantly for the repose of his soul. His body was then\nconveyed to Canterbury with great pomp, and his funeral was followed\nby large numbers of citizens and clergy. The exalted rank of Cardinal\nPole, the important part he had played in the history of his time,\nand the high offices he had filled made him an object of reverence to\nthe multitude, who knew not, and did not even suspect, the intrigues\nof which he was the victim and the humiliating charge under which he\nlay.\n\nWe shall not endeavor in this place to follow the example of his\nindiscriminating panegyrists. Suffice it to say that he was a devoted\nson of the church, and that he did all in his power to resist the\nimpious will of the tyrant with whom Providence had brought him face\nto face. His zeal for the conversion of England was laudable, though\nnot crowned with the success which it deserved.\n\nIn his youth he had written a commentary on Cicero's works; but\nthis was never printed, and the manuscript was lost. He excelled\nin exposition of the Scriptures, which were his constant study and\ndelight. \"His character,\" Mr. Froude allows, \"was irreproachable;\nin all the virtues of the Catholic Church he walked without spot\nor stain.\"[127] He was honored with the friendship of men of great\ndistinction, such as Sir Thomas More, Erasmus, Sadolet, Bishop of\nCarpentras, Bembo, Friuli, Paul III., and Ignatius Loyola. His\nforgiving disposition may be gathered from the fact that when three\nEnglish ruffians came to Capranica to murder him, were arrested on\nsuspicion, and confessed that they were emissaries of Henry VIII., he\nwould only allow them to be condemned to the galleys for a few days.\nHis clemency, as we have seen, in a relentless age, caused him to be\nsuspected; and we have the testimony of Bishop Burnet, the Protestant\nhistorian of the Reformation,[128] to assure us that\n\n    \"such qualities and such a temper as his, could he have brought\n    others into the same measures, would probably have gone far\n    toward bringing back this nation to the Church of Rome; as he\n    was a man of as great probity and virtue as any of the age he\n    lived in.\"\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[94] He died 1524. Agnes Strickland's _Lives of the Queens of\nEngland_, vol. v. 143.\n\n[95] Cardinal Bembo, Secretary of Leo X. and Librarian of St. Mark's,\nVenice; author of various pieces in Latin and Italian. Born 1470.\nDied 1547.\n\n[96] Cardinal Sadolet, Bishop of Carpentras, Secretary of Leo X.;\nauthor of several works in Latin prose and verse. Born 1477. Died\n1547.\n\n[97] Lingard's _History of England_, A.D. 1531.\n\n[98] Froude, _History of England from the Fall of Wolsey to the Death\nof Elizabeth_. Vol. vi. 88.\n\n[99] Lingard, vol. iv. appendix, note 8, 3. _Poli Defensio_, fol. 77,\n78.\n\n[100] Pole to Prioli. Epist. vol. 1. p. 446.\n\n[101] December 20, 1536. Froude, iii. 187.\n\n[102] Lingard, v. 45.\n\n[103] Froude vi. 333.\n\n[104] Miss Strickland's Lives, v. 208.\n\n[105] Epist. Reg. Pol. vol. iii. pp. 37-39.\n\n[106] April, 1539.\n\n[107] May 27, 1541. (33 Henry VIII.)\n\n[108] Pole to the Cardinal of Burgos. Epist. iii. 36, 76.\n\n[109] Vol. i. p. 402.\n\n[110] _Life of Pole._ London, 1767, i. 354.\n\n[111] Conc. Trident. Sessio VI.\n\n[112] Flanagan, _History of the Church in England_, vol. ii. 122,\n127-8.\n\n[113] See Lingard, vol. v. 198.\n\n[114] February 6th, 1554.\n\n[115] Mason to Queen Mary, October 5th, 1554.\n\n[116] Froude, vol. vi. 395 and 517.\n\n[117] Phillips's _Life of Pole_, vol. ii. 172, note.\n\n[118] Lingard, vol. v. 224.\n\n[119] March 23d, 1555.\n\n[120] _Hist. Ref._ vol. ii. p. 156.\n\n[121] _Vita Poli_, fol. 33.\n\n[122] Poli Epist. Phillips's Life, vol. ii. p. 222.\n\n[123] The number of persons put to death in Queen Mary's reign was,\nas stated above, not over 400. From the year 1641 to 1659, 826,000\npersons perished, were exiled or sold as slaves in Ireland, through\nthe religious persecution of the English Protestant government.\n(_O'Reilly's Memorials_, p. 345.)\n\n[124] Lingard, v. 254. Phillips, ii. 256-7. Froude, vi. 477, 481.\n\n[125] Greenwich. March 30th, 1558.\n\n[126] \"Without straining too far the license of imagination, we may\nbelieve that the disease which was destroying him was chiefly a\nbroken heart.\" (Froude, vi. 526.)\n\n[127] _History of England_, vol. vi. 531.\n\n[128] Vol. ii.\n\n\n\n\nTHE YOUNG VERMONTERS.\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nDUTY AND TEMPTATION.\n\n\"Hollo! George and Henry, where are you going in such a hurry?\nCan't you stop to speak to a fellow?\" cried Frank Blair to his two\nschool-mates, George Wingate and Henry Howe, whom he was trying to\novertake in their walk on a fine afternoon in June.\n\n\"Yes,\" said George. \"We can stop to speak, but not to stay long, for\nwe are on our way to the church.\"\n\n\"What are you going to church for? You'd better come with me; for I\ncan tell you there's lots of fun going on that you'll be sorry to\nlose!\"\n\n\"What is it?\" eagerly inquired Henry.\n\n\"Oh! I can't tell you unless you join us; all the fellows have agreed\nnot to tell any thing about it, only to those who promise beforehand\nto go in and keep the whole secret.\"\n\n\"Ah! then,\" said George, \"we could not agree to any such thing; for\nit would be wrong for us to make a promise like that beforehand. So\nwe couldn't go with you, if we were not bound for the church.\"\n\n\"Why are you bound for church on a week-day?\"\n\n\"Because,\" answered George, \"to-morrow will be a festival, and we\nare going to help prepare the church, and then prepare ourselves for\ncelebrating it.\"\n\n\"Well, I declare! I never did see any thing like you Catholic boys!\nYou're a real puzzle to me; as pious as deacons, and take to religion\nas naturally as a duck does to water, and yet I know you love fun\njust as well as any of us. What are you going to do to prepare for\nthis festival?\"\n\n\"Oh! we shall help the sacristan, who is an infirm old man, to make\nthe church neat and tidy, in the first place. Then we shall assist\nin getting evergreens ready for the decoration; and we expect our\nmothers and sisters with flowers to be arranged in vases for the\naltar, while we are twining and putting up wreaths. We hope to\nmake the church very beautiful for the great feast of the Blessed\nSacrament. After we get this all done, we shall prepare for holy\ncommunion, which we hope to receive to-morrow.\"\n\n\"And how do you prepare for that?\"\n\n\"First of all, we make our examination of conscience, and say our\nprayers in preparation for confession.\"\n\n\"You go to confession! Why, I thought none but sinners confessed to\nthe priest.\"\n\n\"And don't you think we are sinners?\" said George.\n\n\"Of course not! How can we boys be sinners? I never thought of such a\nthing. I don't believe I'm a sinner at all! I only love a frolic once\nin a while; and I hate religion, because it's such a gloomy kind of\nbusiness. So you think you won't join us, eh?\"\n\n\"No; we have other matters to attend to.\"\n\n\"Well, then, good-by; but you'll be sorry you didn't go with us, I\ncan tell you!\"\n\nHe left them, and the two boys walked on in silence for some time. At\nlength Henry said with a sigh,\n\n\"Don't you wish we could have gone with them, George? I'll warrant\nyou there's some grand fun up. I wonder what it is?\"\n\n\"No matter what it is, Henry. We have only to do what is right, and\nwhat we know we ought to do first, and then we shall find ways enough\nto enjoy ourselves; and have more enjoyment, too, than we should if\nwe neglected duty for pleasure.\"\n\n\"I suppose you are right,\" said Henry sadly; \"but I can't help\nthinking there's more sport in going off with a lot of boys for a\nfrolic than there is in being good, and helping the women fix up\nthe church. It don't seem to me like boys' work, to be fussing with\nwreaths and bouquets.\"\n\n\"Ah my fine fellow! you are really getting very smart. What do you\nthink of our fathers, and of Mr. A---- and Mr. S----, two of the\nmost active business men in the place--and yet they take as much\ninterest in having the church made beautiful for the divine offices\nas the women do. Don't you remember how Mr. A----, when he couldn't\nleave court during the trial of an important case, sent one of his\nstudents, and his man with a ladder, to help put up the wreaths last\nChristmas? Mighty smart for us boys to think it is too small business\nfor us, to be sure! Then, as to the fun, we'll wait and see how the\nboys come out with their frolic. I have my own notion that there'll\nbe more mischief than sport, and that we may hereafter be glad we had\nno part in it. Frank Blair is a pleasant, good-natured fellow; but\nhe is a reckless chap too. He had learned a great many city tricks\nbefore they came here to live, and will do any thing for fun, without\nthinking of the consequences. Any way, we know there's nothing like\nduty first and play afterwards to make boys happy.\"\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nRURAL PLEASURES.\n\nThe church was situated in the very shadow of a wood that skirts\nthe pretty village of M----, in northern Vermont. When the two boys\nreached it, they found quite an assemblage of their school-fellows\nawaiting the arrival of the sacristan, who soon appeared, and sent\nsome into the woods with axes and hatchets to cut the evergreens,\ndispatched others with pails for water, and kept George and Henry to\nhelp him in the church.\n\nThey had just finished arranging all in order and dusting the\nsanctuary, when their mothers and sisters arrived with the flowers,\nwhich they took to a little room adjoining the sacristy, where the\npails of water were left. Very soon some of the boys came in with the\nevergreen trees; the beautiful trailing pines of several varieties,\nand graceful feathery foliage of brilliant green, together with a\nprofusion of other wild-wood treasures, which they had collected. The\nvillage girls also came bringing wild flowers and other contributions\nfor the decoration.\n\nYoung Catholics in country places need not be told how pleasantly\nthe time passed with this company in the varied occupations of tying\nwreaths, arranging bouquets in the vases, putting up the festooned\ngarlands, winding the pillars, and executing other devices, with\nwhich they are already so familiar as to need no information. But\nit is certain that the young people of cities, losing all these\ntrue and natural enjoyments, as well as the developments of taste\nand ingenuity to which they lead, lose a valuable aid to devotion.\nThey who cannot participate in the adornment of the material temple\nfor the worship of God, by bringing the simple offerings of the\nwoodlands and the valleys for its embellishment, lose a very\nimportant incentive to the due preparation of the spiritual temple\nfor his reception.\n\nBefore the arrival of the priest, the work of decoration was\ncompleted, and each pious heart was gladdened to see how beautiful\nthe altar looked, smiling through a profusion of flowers, whose\nfragrance hovered around the tabernacle of the Lord like a breath\nfrom paradise, and embowered in wreaths prepared from the \"glory of\nLibanus,\" together with tributes from \"the fir-tree, the box-tree,\nand the pine,\" which youthful hands had collected to \"beautify the\nplace of his sanctuary, and to make the place of his feet glorious.\"\n\nWhen all was finished, the cheerful crowd quietly sought their places\nin the church, to prepare for the holy sacrament of reconciliation.\n\nWhile these busy performances were in progress, George had looked in\nvain among the young people assembled to discover two lads who were\nnear his own age, and in whom he felt a special interest--Michael\nHennessy and Dennis Sullivan. He feared they had been drawn away into\nthe expedition of their school-mates mentioned by Frank Blair.\n\nOn the following morning, the priest announced during the mass that\nthere would be no vespers that afternoon, as he was going to visit\nanother parish. After mass, Mr. Wingate and Mr. Howe told George and\nHenry that they intended taking the two families out to Mr. Howe's\nfarm, a few miles distant, that afternoon, and that they might invite\nsome of their young friends to accompany them. They were delighted;\nfor there was nothing they enjoyed so much as their occasional visits\nto the farm. So they sought among the crowd at the church door their\nfriends Mike and Dennis; but they were not to be found. They invited\nPatrick Casey, and a few other boys, to come to their homes after\ndinner and join the excursion.\n\nSoon after dinner the large family carriages were brought up, and\nsuch a bustle ensued, stowing away in the vehicles baskets filled\nwith buttered biscuits, cold ham and tongue, sandwiches, cakes, and\nsundry other delicacies, with a package of table-cloths and napkins,\nas betokened a grand supper in the woods, which was of all things the\nmost delightful to the boys.\n\nThe party were soon comfortably packed into the capacious carriages,\nand set off in high glee. When they arrived at the farm-house,\nMrs. Howe made arrangements for a plentiful supply of milk, fresh\nstrawberries and cream, and other things, to be taken to a certain\nplace in the woods at a time appointed, and the merry company set out\nin quest of the quiet nooks and shady dells of the forest.\n\nThere was no end to the pleasant incidents that here met our young\npeople at every turn. They had scarcely entered the shadowy domain,\nwhen a partridge whirred up from their very feet into a tree over\ntheir heads, and they soon discovered she had left a brood of her\nyoung below. Such a scramble as took place in pursuit of the shy\nlittle beauties!--the girls holding their aprons, that the captives\nmight be deposited in them as fast as caught. It was funny to see how\nthe wise little creatures would hide under every chip, bit of bark,\nor dead leaf, and, when these were lifted, how still they would lie,\nas if lifeless--so near the color of the ground that it was hard to\ndistinguish them--and allow themselves to be taken.\n\nAfter sufficiently admiring their tiny prisoners, they set them at\nliberty, and resumed their exploration of the forest. Very soon one\nof them came across a night-hawk's nest on the ground, and called all\nthe party to admire it, with its treasure of curious brown eggs. Then\nthey discovered a blue-bird's nest built with rare skill in a hole in\nthe trunk of a tree. And now a splendid gray squirrel attracted their\nattention; he ran up a tree and out to the end of a limb, where he\nsat calmly defying all their efforts to frighten or knock him off.\nA discussion upon squirrels and their habits ensued, and \"Grandma\"\nHowe told them she once saw a large gray squirrel by a small sheet\nof water, where a dashing mountain brook had subsided into a quiet\nbasin, which he wanted to cross. He stood on the margin for some\ntime, as if considering the matter--turning himself to ascertain the\ndirection of the wind, which happened to be favorable--then, seizing\na chip that lay near him, threw it into the water, and springing\naboard of his little craft, raised his tail to catch the wind, and\nsailed across swiftly and safely. When he gained the other shore, he\njumped off, and did not even have the politeness to pull his boat\nashore after him.\n\nAll this time Mr. Squirrel sat eying his guests of \"the green-wood\"\nvery composedly, occasionally stamping his little foot with pretty\npettishness, and at length fell to nibbling a last year's beech-nut\nwhich he had carried up to his perch for a lunch with so much\ncoolness that his young observers were quite charmed, and determined\nto leave him to munch his nut in peace. They now sought a bright\nlittle brook that danced gayly over shining pebbles near by, and the\nmurmur of whose waters, mingling with the rustle of leaves stirred by\nthe breath of June, whispered in sweet harmony the song of the woods.\nThey soon reached a fringe of graceful willows marking its course,\nand dipping their pendent limbs to kiss the crystal flood.\n\nJust then Mr. Howe overtook the party and called out, \"Boys, who\nwould like to try some trout-fishing in the brook?\"\n\nOf course the boys were all eager for the sport; but where was the\nnecessary fishing-tackle?\n\n\"Ah!\" said Mr. Howe, \"you see I have provided for that,\" producing\na case filled with jointed rods, flies, lines, and all needful\nappliances for trout-fishing.\n\nEach boy was soon supplied, and started off in search of the deep\npools and sequestered waters favorable for their sport; while the\ngirls rambled on, delighting themselves with the beautiful June\nflowers, peeping into each shaded recess for the modest feathered\norchis--queen of its tribe, and most fragrant flower of the\nwoods--and exploring the more open spaces near the brook, for the\nseveral varieties of elegant and fantastic \"ladies' slippers,\" which\nabound in the woodlands of northern Vermont. Then the splendid\nlichens and ferns attracted their admiring notice; and before\nthe hour for their repast arrived, they had accumulated a wealth\nof sylvan treasures wherewith to embellish their homes, and keep\nalive pleasant recollections of their brief sojourn in those woody\nsolitudes.\n\nAt length an envoy from the farm-house arrived laden with\nrefreshments--cards of pure white honey-comb filled with transparent\nsweets, cream of the richest, field strawberries in profusion, and\nmilk fresh and abundant The girls soon spread the snow-white cloths\non the turf at the foot of an ancient oak by the brook-side, and,\nunder the direction of the elder ladies, emptied the baskets and\nprepared an ambrosial banquet, while Mr. Wingate called in the\nstragglers, and the young fishers of the party, to partake of it.\nThey were reluctant to leave sports which they were enjoying so much,\nand saw the day drawing to a close with regret. Each boy brought\na fine string of trout for the Friday morning's breakfast, and\nappetites sharpened by their green wood scramble to the luxurious and\nplentiful repast.\n\nAt the close of their meal they prepared to return, and were soon\non their homeward course; the young people all declaring that they\nhad never passed an afternoon more delightful. George and Henry were\nvery sure, as they remarked to each other, that Frank Blair and his\ncompanions could not have had so pleasant a time on their frolic of\nthe evening before.\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nTHE TEMPTER AND HIS VICTIMS.\n\nOn the eve of the festival, as Frank Blair was sauntering down the\nstreet, after he had left George and Henry, he met Michael Hennessy\nand Dennis Sullivan.\n\n\"Hurrah boys! you're the very chaps I wanted to find,\" said he. \"I\nsay, don't you want to go in with a lot of us for a real tip-top\ntime?\"\n\n\"What is it?\" they both inquired eagerly, when Frank said something\nin a low voice, to which they responded, \"Yes, yes! we promise;\" and\nhe went on in the same tone to explain the plan.\n\n\"But we can't,\" said Michael; \"our pockets are as empty as a last\nyear's bird's nest, and this requires money.\"\n\n\"Oh! never mind that,\" was Frank's reply, \"I'll plank the tin;\" which\nannouncement was met by a merry shout and, \"We'll go!\" from them both.\n\n\"Well, then,\" said Frank, \"meet us at the depot within the hour,\" and\npassed on.\n\nNow these boys had been on their way to the church; but after they\nparted with Frank, they turned their course toward the depot. As they\nwere walking silently and leisurely along in that direction, Dennis\nspoke:\n\n\"I say, Mike, it seems to me that this is not just the right thing we\nare doing; our mothers think we are at the church, and I'm afraid no\ngood will come of our turning away in this fashion.\"\n\n\"O you fool!\" said Mike, \"they'll never know but we are at the\nchurch, and fun's better than religion any day. I hate such humdrum\nways, going along every day alike, and never a scrape of any sort;\nand so do all the boys.\"\n\n\"Not all of them; for there's George Wingate loves fun as well as any\nof us, and a grand hand to help it on too; but he never leaves better\nthings for it,\" said Dennis sadly.\n\n\"George _is_ a regular brick and no mistake. He takes to fun and\nreligion, each in its own time, as if there were nothing else in the\nworld; but we can't all be like him, and there's no use in trying. I\nwarrant you now that, if he could only have the chance, there's Henry\nHowe would a great sight rather pitch in for fun in a scrape like\nthis, than go George's roads.\"\n\n\"Perhaps he would,\" and Dennis paused a moment sighing; \"but I'm\nafraid it isn't right, especially for catholic boys. It's a poor\npreparation for to-morrow.\"\n\n\"Nonsense! boys can't be saints. We'll leave that to our mothers,\nthey can say prayers enough for us and themselves too; so we may\nenjoy ourselves while we can. But I wonder where Frank gets all his\nmoney; his father is a stingy old curmudgeon, they say, and I don't\nunderstand it.\"\n\n\"Don't you know that his father's maiden sister, who lives with him,\nis rich, and she fills Frank's pockets. He told me so. He said that\nwhen he could get his father's permission, as he did to go to these\nshows this afternoon, his aunt furnished all the money he wanted.\"\n\nIn this way they chatted until they reached the depot, where a\nmultitude of wildly excited boys soon absorbed their attention, and\ndrowned the whispers of conscience for poor Dennis.\n\nMeantime, as Frank was on his way home to replenish his purse for the\nevening, he met Patrick Casey and Johnny Hart, and accosted them much\nas he had Michael and Dennis. They objected that they were going to\nthe church and could not join his party.\n\n\"O fol-de-rol!\" said he; \"there'll be chances enough to go to church,\nbut you won't often have such a chance as this for a frolic. Mike\nHennessy and Dennis Sullivan are going--\"\n\n\"Are they?\" eagerly exclaimed Johnny. \"Then I'll go too. Won't you,\nPat?\"\n\n\"No, I won't!\" said Pat resolutely. \"If Mike and Dennis choose to do\nwrong, is that any reason why we should? Come along Johnny, and don't\nbe a fool!\"\n\nJohnny hesitated as Patrick passed on, and Frank said the fools were\nthose who'd lose all the sport for the sake of being as dull as\nbeetles, and making old women of themselves; adding,\n\n\"There'll be time enough to be pious after you have done being jolly!\"\n\nThis artful speech decided poor Johnny, who turned and went to the\ndepot.\n\nBut why did Frank Blair say nothing of those who refused to go, while\nhe baited his snare with the names of those who consented? It was\nbecause boys understand fully the force of _example_, and can wield\nit with great power to secure their ends. When we consent to act\ncontrary to the still small voice of conscience, we never know how\nfar the consequences of that act may extend. Evil examples attract\nmore imitators than good ones--but woe to him who furnishes them;\nwhile firm adherence to the right may win some wavering soul to the\npath of duty, which will shine as one of the brightest jewels in our\ncrown of rejoicing hereafter!\n\nJohnny had hardly reached the depot before Frank arrived, and\npresently a train of cars came thundering up, the boys hastening to\nsecure seats for the little village of H----, a short distance from\nM----, where they soon arrived, and upon leaving the cars found a\ngreat crowd gathered around an immense tent, awaiting the opening\nof the exhibition. This was announced in astounding illustrated\nhand-bills as the most remarkable one ever witnessed, embracing more\nunheard-of enormities in the brute creation, and wonders of the human\nrace, than were ever before congregated in one assemblage.\n\nWhen the tent was opened, the rush that ensued baffles description;\nduring the progress of which Mike's elbows came in closer contact\nwith the ribs of a boy near him than was at all comfortable, while\nDennis Sullivan's fist went very innocently into the face of a lad\nwho was pushing his way more sharply than was agreeable to his\nneighbors, leaving, in its unconscious energy, a \"black eye\" in his\nvisage.\n\nWhile the crowd was slowly entering the tent, the boys from M----\nindulged themselves in dealing out a series of these little jokes,\nmore to their own satisfaction than to that of the recipients.\nAt length it was suspected they were not wholly accidental or\nunintentional, when a general row ensued, and cries of \"Hustle them\nout!\" \"Give them fits!\" \"Pitch into the boys from M----!\" were wildly\nshouted from all sides. Our heroes stood their ground with a coolness\nworthy of a better cause, giving as many hard blows as they received\nand shouting, \"Don't you H---- boys want to come to M---- to see the\nelephant again? Don't you wish you could, now? We'll show you we know\nhow to return small compliments, we will!\"\n\nIn truth, as it turned out, the M---- boys were in so much \"better\ntraining,\" as the pugilists say, that those of H---- were in a fair\nway to get soundly pommelled, when some men interfered to stop the\nfight and inquire the cause. Frank spoke for his party.\n\n\"Well, gentlemen, these youngsters came to M---- the last time we had\na menagerie and circus there, and behaved themselves so outrageously\nthat a company of us determined we would pay them the first chance we\nhad. And I think we have; grand fun it has been too!\"\n\n\"Precious fun it _must_ have been!\" said a plain, farmer-like man;\n\"and a beautiful pack you've made of one another out and out! Torn\nclothes, broken shins, bleeding noses, black eyes, and more bumps\non your tarnal heads than the old frenologer feller that goes round\nlectering with a skull ever thought of! A pretty lookin' set of\npicters you are, an't you?\"\n\n\"You bet!\" said Frank; then turning to his companions, \"but boys, I\nsay, didn't we pepper them, though? I don't believe they'll want to\ncome to M---- the next show-day. If they do, we'll be ready for them,\neh, boys?\"\n\nA wild hurrah was the reply, and they sought a neighboring brook\nto wash off such traces of the conflict as water could efface. At\nFrank's invitation they then gathered around a booth where pies,\ncakes, gingerbread, lemonade, candies, and a variety of other\ndelicacies were dispensed, where they refreshed themselves heartily\nafter their exertions.\n\nBefore they had concluded their repast, the crowd had all disappeared\nwithin the capacious tent, and the shadows of evening were gathering\nfast. Not caring to go in directly, our young adventurers amused\nthemselves by performing numerous pranks in which mischief was more\nconspicuous than sense or wit.\n\nA young lawyer of the place, being quite devoted in his attentions\nto the merchant's daughter, they took the sign from his office and\nplaced it on the front door of the merchant's residence. They removed\na sign from one of the shops, on which was marked, \"Codfish, salt\nand fresh; herrings, pickled and smoked; Boston cured hams--for sale\nhere. N.B. Deacon's skins taken in exchange,\"[129] and fastened it\nover the \"meeting-house\" door, writing under it with chalk, in large\nletters, \"Inquire within.\"\n\nSeeing a donkey quietly munching his nettles in a corner of the\nvillage green, they captured him, and with great exertion succeeded\nin imprisoning him within a back shed attached to a cottage where\na maiden lady resided alone. When they tired of these and similar\nfoolish exploits, too numerous to mention, they entered the tent.\nUnfortunately, their mischievous propensities entered with them.\nFrank soon began to amuse himself by tweaking the whiskers of a\npeevish old monkey, which forthwith sprang to the top of his head,\nand, holding on by his hair, planted its teeth so firmly in his ear\nthat the young gentleman was fain to cry out for the keeper. At the\nsame moment, Dennis had placed a piece of tobacco on the extremity\nof the elephant's trunk, and not dodging instantly, as he intended,\nwas seized by the enraged animal and tossed to the top of the tent,\ncoming down upon the bald head of an elderly gentleman, who, catching\nhim with one hand, shook him until his teeth chattered, at the same\ntime administering telling blows with the disengaged hand upon the\nsorely bruised urchin within his grasp.\n\nWhile this was going on in one part of the tent, another of the\nenterprising company had ventured to cross the forbidden inclosure\nbefore the lion's cage, and was glad to escape from the claws of the\nanimal with a coat badly torn, and scratches upon his face which he\ncarried for many a day.\n\nAfter a series of similar mishaps, the party took the down-train for\nhome, each bearing unmistakable marks of the _fun_, and protesting\nthey never before had such a \"tip-top time,\" though Frank's\nmisgivings found utterance in a low voice to Mike,\n\n\"My father's awfully severe, and I don't know what the old trump will\nsay to all this when he hears of it; but it can't be helped now!\"\n\nHe was not the only one of the company who was haunted by secret\nfears as to how the proofs of the affray, which each one carried on\nhis person, would be regarded by their home circles.\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nTHE CONSEQUENCES.\n\nVery quietly did the party of young pleasure-seekers retire to their\nbeds, after they arrived at their homes that evening, fatigued and\nexhausted with the excitement of the past few hours. Nor were they in\nany haste to make themselves visible on the following morning.\n\nMrs. Sullivan called Dennis early to bring some water and assist\nher, that they might go to church in good season; but her calls were\nunheeded. So she sought his room, exclaiming, \"Why, what ails you,\nDinnie, my boy, that you cannot awaken for my calling?\"\n\nThe mother's eye was quick to detect that something was wrong the\nmoment it rested on the countenance of her hopeful son, and she added,\n\n\"For goodness' sake, Dinnie, darling, what has happened you, any how?\"\n\nDennis made an awkward and blundering apology which entirely failed\nto satisfy his mother, who soon drew the whole story from him.\n\n\"It's all along of that dirty Frank Blair!\" said she. \"I wish to\ngoodness he was across the sea, with his rogue's tricks and monkey\npranks! It's no use trying to rear Catholic children to respect their\nreligion, and attend to their duties, among these Yankees! They'd\nentice the very priest at the altar! A pretty shindy you've cut up\nnow! But get up, and let us see how you are entirely.\"\n\nPoor Dennis attempted to obey; but his head ached so cruelly, he was\nso lame and bruised and sore, that he became faint the moment he\ntried to sit up; and one of his eyes was swollen to such a degree\nthat he could not open it.\n\n\"Bad luck to the mischief of these boys!\" said his mother. \"I see\nhe'll never be able to go with me to church this day; so he may as\nwell keep to his bed.\"\n\nGlad enough was Dennis to creep back to his nest.\n\nMike Hennessy and Johnny Hart were not in so bad a plight, but they\nwere unable to go to church.\n\nAs the boys were lying through the long hours oppressed with the\nlanguor that follows such wild excitement, and with aching bones,\ntheir reflections upon the frolic and its consequences were by no\nmeans consoling. Nor did the comparisons they drew between the lawful\nsports of the play-ground and the reckless turbulence of \"_tip-top\ntimes_\" fail to decide the question in favor of the more quiet\nenjoyments.\n\nWas it a pale phantom that sat by the bedside of each during those\nhours--while the joyful bells of the great feast were sending forth\ntheir jubilant peals--and searching his very soul with reproachful\neyes pointed an uplifted finger from the painful realities of the\n_now_ to the calm vision of what _might have been_, had he followed\nthe voice of conscience and the requirements of duty, until he shrunk\naffrighted from the picture? Ah! no, my boys; it was no phantom; it\nwas the only _reality_ in the sight of which these mortal frames of\nours subside to dust, and in comparison with the permanence of which\nthey become--with all their importunate sensibilities, their worldly\nambitions, their earthly cravings, and their fleeting pleasures--but\nthe \"baseless fabrics of a dream!\" It was the tender, vigilant,\nand ever-present friend of the sinner; his best friend, his other\nself--his conscience! destined to be the crowning joy of his home in\nheaven, or to be exchanged at the portals of death for remorse, the\ngnawing \"worm that never dies,\" in the regions of \"eternal despair\"!\nWoe to that boy who sins, and who fails to receive, in his first\nsolitary hours, a visit from the reproving monitor, or to profit by\nits awakening and warning voice!\n\nThe next morning they were so much better that they could go to\nschool, and meeting George Wingate in the yard, he exclaimed, \"Why,\nboys, where were you yesterday, that you did not come to church?\nHenry and I looked for you through the whole crowd, to invite you to\ngo with us to the farm. Pat Casey went, and we had the best kind of a\ntime; we were so sorry you were not with us!\"\n\nThey replied that they were not well, and had to stay at home. George\nnoticed their embarrassment, and that the face of Dennis betrayed\nbruises about the eye, while Mike's forehead and Johnny's nose\ndisplayed traces of a similar nature, and he conjectured the cause of\ntheir absence from church.\n\nAfter school, as he and Henry were walking home, Henry remarked, \"I\nsuspect, George, that wherever the boys went that afternoon, they had\na rousing fight, for ever so many of them show the marks of it. I\nheard a man telling that there was a great row among the boys at the\nshow in H---- that night; and I shouldn't wonder if our fellows were\namong them.\"\n\n\"We need not trouble ourselves about it,\" George replied; \"but I\nthought at the time it was very likely we might be thankful we were\ncalled another way, and had nothing to do with their frolic. I've\nnoticed that when boys go off by themselves in pursuit of fun, they\nseldom come out the better for it; and as for enjoyment, there is\njust none at all. I wouldn't give one hour of such pleasure as we\nfound in the woods for the wildest frolic they can get up.\"\n\n\"Nor I either,\" said Henry; \"I'm determined I won't have any part in\ntheir scrapes hereafter. If no other trouble followed, the shame of\ngoing to confession after a wild row is enough to destroy all the\npleasure.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" George rejoined; \"and I don't see how our boys who mean to go\nregularly to their confession can join heartily in these mad pranks.\nAs for those who have no such intention, why, the less we have to do\nwith them the better.\"\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nAN OUTSIDE GLIMPSE.\n\nAs Frank Blair had expected, his father was very much offended at the\nshare he had taken in the performances at H----, and the assault upon\nthe boys, of which he was informed the next morning by a man from\nH----, who told him all about the fright, and the tricks that had\nbeen played at that place: also, that the maiden lady, Miss Merton,\nwhose bedroom happened to be in a part of the house adjoining the\nshed where the donkey was imprisoned, had been frightened almost\nto death by the braying of the animal in the night. Under the firm\nimpression that the lion had escaped and was attacking her house,\nshe rushed out in her night-dress, and, espying a light in a small\nshop near by, broke in upon three little French shoemakers, who were\nsitting up to finish some job-work that must be ready for morning.\nNow, one of these had been whiling away the time by stories of a\nghost in a Canadian village, that had visited several families, and\ncould assume the guise of different persons, living and dead. He was\njust reciting one of the most harrowing of these incidents when the\nsudden apparition of the lady in a long white dress, with a face of\nghastly pallor, and eyes distended with affright, burst upon their\nastounded vision! Not for a moment doubting its unearthly nature, one\nof them jumped through an open window, another sprung up a ladder and\nout upon the roof, while the third took refuge under a dry-goods box\nin the cellar.\n\nThe unfortunate lady, thinking that the lion was in close pursuit,\nand that a glimpse of it through the open door had caused the sudden\nstampede of the shoemakers, dared not turn back; but betook herself\nto screaming at the top of her voice, in which she was joined by the\naffrighted sons of Crispin in so vigorous a chorus that the whole\nvillage was soon aroused.\n\nWhen the cause of all the disturbance was revealed, and the harmless\nanimal released from captivity, it was almost impossible to persuade\nthe lady that her life was not in danger; and there was such serious\nquestion of sending to M---- and arresting the juvenile offenders,\nthat Mr. Blair was advised to go immediately to H---- and settle the\nmatter.\n\nAs for the shoemakers, we may be permitted to add--somewhat in\nadvance of our story--the fact that their terrified imaginations had\nso far misled their reason that they could never again be persuaded\nto work in the shop after night-fall, or be led to believe fully in\nthe identity of Miss Merton with their ghastly midnight visitant.\n\nThe man who communicated these details gave Mr. Blair the names of\nall the boys of the party whom he knew, among them those of Michael,\nDennis, and Johnny.\n\n\"Those pestilent Irish boys!\" Mr. Blair exclaimed indignantly. \"They\nare always drawing our Yankee boys into fights and mischief! Some\nmeasures ought to be taken to make examples of them, and prevent\nthese outbreaks.\"\n\nHe intimated the same to Frank that day while lecturing him severely\nfor \"following such ringleaders\" into disgraceful riots. Frank had\ntoo much honor to permit his father to remain in this error, and\nprotested stoutly that it was himself who persuaded them into it;\nbut it was evident enough that he failed to convince his father of\nthat fact. Mr. Blair was not an ill-natured man, and did not intend\nto be unjust; but he unfortunately indulged the prejudices against\nforeigners into which too many Americans fall without pausing\nto examine whether they are just. They take a few bad specimens\nupon which to found a sweeping sentence against the whole class,\nnot reflecting that the vices of the wicked serve to render them\nconspicuous, while the modest virtues of the good only withdraw them\nfrom public notice.\n\nAfter he had given Frank a very stern admonition, Mr. Blair proceeded\nto inform him that a certain fowling-piece which had long been the\nobject of his most ardent desire, and of which he had hoped to gain\npossession before the Fourth of July, would not now be purchased for\nhim, on account of his misconduct; and that immediate steps would be\ntaken to secure a place for him in the naval school at A----, in the\nfall.\n\nThese were severe blows to Frank. The disappointment of his cherished\nhopes in connection with the much-coveted fowling-piece, and his\ndread of the naval school, where he knew the discipline was so strict\nas to prevent the possibility of mischief, combined to make him take\na very desponding view of life in general, and of what he regarded as\nthe bondage to \"old fogyism,\" in particular. He resolved, however,\nto behave in so exemplary a manner from that time as to induce his\nfather to relent, if possible; for he knew present remonstrance or\npleading would be in vain.\n\nHe became so very quiet and regular in his deportment that he soon\nwon \"golden opinions\" on all hands, much to the delight of his aunt,\nwith whom he was a special pet, and who hoped her brother might yet\nallow him to remain at home.\n\nIt was an unusually warm summer, and a Mrs. Plimpton, a friend of the\nBlairs from the city where they had formerly resided, came to pass\nthe warm season with them, bringing her family--a son about the age\nof Frank, and two daughters younger.\n\nSoon after she came, Mrs. Wingate and Mrs. Howe called to see her,\nand brought George and Henry to call upon the young strangers and\nFrank.\n\nWhen they left, Mrs. Plimpton remarked, \"What very agreeable people!\nAnd those young lads--so sociable, modest, and gentlemanly! I do not\nwonder that Frank's manners are so genial and quiet, since he has\nsuch associates.\"\n\n\"Frank does not associate much with them; and though Mrs. Wingate\nand Mrs. Howe are very agreeable, as you say, yet we have but little\nintercourse with them,\" Mrs. Blair replied, dryly and frigidly.\n\n\"And why not, let me beg to know?\" inquired Mrs. Plimpton with\nevident surprise. \"In so small a place I should think you would\nwant to cultivate sociability with all people of intelligence and\nrefinement!\"\n\n\"We would be glad to, and they would be a valuable acquisition to any\nsociety, if they were not Romanists. But when enlightened Americans,\nwho should and do know better, see fit to plunge themselves into that\nabyss of superstition and exploded absurdities, they ought to be\navoided by all sensible people.\"\n\n\"And is that all?\" said Mrs. Plimpton, laughing. \"Why, my dear\nfriend, I had hoped better things of you! I supposed by your solemn\nmanner that there was some serious moral delinquency on their part.\nReally, I must be permitted to dissent entirely from your theory and\npractice in this matter. I am sure you cannot be aware of all that\nis going on in our cities. Many of my dearest friends are Catholics;\nsome Americans and some foreigners; and the dear Sisters--now, don't\nlook so shocked! I entreat of you--are my special favorites, and best\ncounsellors. I have quite taken them into my entire confidence on\nsome most important affairs. 'Romanists,' indeed! Why, if we were to\nproscribe all the Catholics, we should lose a charming portion of\nour society. We 'liberal Christians' do not feel disposed to carry\nreligious prejudices into the social circle, or to avoid pleasant\npeople on account of their preferences or peculiarities in this\nrespect. I shall only seek the acquaintance of these ladies the more\nearnestly for this reason. Do you know how their change of faith was\nbrought about?\"\n\n\"I never troubled myself to ask,\" Mrs. Blair said languidly.\n\n\"I can tell you!\" said Miss Blair. \"I heard the whole story from\none of their particular friends, who has followed their example. It\nseems Mr. Wingate, who is a gentleman of wealth and leisure, had\namused himself by devoting much time and attention to studying the\nprinciples of architecture--especially the ecclesiastical branch, for\nwhich he had a great taste. When it was proposed to build a Catholic\nchurch in the place, he begged permission to furnish a plan, which\nwas accorded. This was so entirely satisfactory--combining exquisite\nartistic proportions with the close attention to economy in all the\ndetails, which is indispensable where the resources are limited--that\nhe was urged to superintend the progress of the building, which he\nconsented to do. Soon after operations were commenced, one Patrick\nHennessy, an excellent mechanic, came to the place, having recently\nemigrated from Ireland, and was employed to aid in the work. Mr.\nWingate had frequent conversations--controversies, if you will--with\nhim on religious subjects, and was surprised to find, not only that\nHennessy was perfectly acquainted with all the points at issue\nbetween Catholics and Protestants, but that his own preconceived\nopinions in relation to these questions were many of them false. He\nborrowed and read Hennessy's books, and the result you know. His\nwife, a highly cultivated and thoughtful woman, went with him heart\nand hand. Their children were then quite young.\n\n\"Mrs. Howe was a very different person from her sister, Mrs. Wingate.\nShe was a fashionable lady, and, though not as wealthy as her sister,\naspired to lead the _ton_ in our little village. She assumed many\nairs, established intimacies and exchanged visits with stylish city\nladies, which were more gratifying to her vanity than creditable to\nher good sense. When Mrs. Wingate became a Catholic, she entirely\ndiscontinued all intercourse with her, and uttered many sharp remarks\nupon the subject. She had never been as much beloved as her sister,\nand her course had provoked many envious and ill-natured comments,\nto which was now added the remark that she had not so much religion\nherself that she need be disturbed by the religious preferences\nof others. To tell the story in few words, she was finally taken\nsuddenly very ill. The first person she called for was her discarded\nsister, who came and watched over her early and late with devoted\ntenderness--never leaving her bedside. When the physician pronounced\nher case all but utterly hopeless, she begged that the priest might\nbe sent for; this had been the object of her sister's most fervent\nand constant prayers, but she had not dared even to mention it. Mr.\nHowe, after great hesitation, at length yielded to the wish of his\nidolized and dying wife. The priest came, baptized and received her\ninto the Catholic Church. She lingered a long time, as it were,\nbetween life and death; but a strong natural constitution prevailed,\nand she recovered. After her recovery, the change in her character\nwas so marked and entire as to be apparent to all, and she came\nto be regarded as even more lovely than her sister. Mr. Howe soon\nfollowed her example, and their circle has since been increased by\nthe addition of converts from time to time. I entirely agree with you\nas to the folly of abstaining from intercourse with them, and have\nbecome quite familiar with that coterie--a delightful one it is, too!\"\n\n\"And is that all?\" Mrs. Blair pointedly asked.\n\n\"All for the present,\" Miss Blair replied, smiling.\n\n\"How long will it be before you follow such interesting examples? It\nstrikes me, I have seen a lady reading books lately that I should\nnot once have thought could claim a moment's attention from her; but\nwonders will never cease, I believe!\"\n\n\"I am not so tied to any set of opinions as to refuse to read the\nother side.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Mrs. Plimpton, \"I have never thought it worth while to\ntrouble myself much about these matters; but I always read whatever I\nchoose on any subject, and I think every one has a right to do so.\"\n\n    TO BE CONTINUED.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[129] The skins of young calves are so named by New-England dairy-men.\n\n\n\n\nA MAY CAROL.\n\n\n    \"He looked on her humility.\"\n      Ah! humbler thrice that breast was made\n    When Jesus watched his mother's eye,\n      When God each God-born wish obeyed!\n\n    In her with seraph seraph strove,\n      And each the other's purpose crossed:\n    And now 'twas reverence, now 'twas love\n      The peaceful strife that won or lost.\n\n    Now to that Infant she extends\n      Those hands that mutely say, \"Mine own!\"\n    Now shrinks abashed, or swerves and bends,\n      As bends a willow backward blown.\n\n    And ofttimes, like a rose leaf caught\n      By eddying airs from fairyland,\n    The kiss a sleeping brow that sought\n      Descends upon the unsceptred hand!\n\n    O tenderest awe! whose sweet excess\n      Had ended in a fond despair,\n    Had not the all-pitying helplessness\n      Constrained the boldness of her care!\n\n    O holiest strife! the angelic hosts\n      That watched it hid their dazzled eyes,\n    And lingered from the heavenly coasts\n      To bless that heavenlier paradise.\n\n                                             AUBREY DE VERE.\n\n\n\n\nCATHOLICITY AND PANTHEISM.\n\nNUMBER NINE.\n\nUNION BETWEEN THE INFINITE AND THE FINITE--CONTINUED.\n\n\nIn the preceding article we unfolded the nature of the hypostatic\nmoment, the solution which the Catholic Church gives to the problem\nof the highest sublimation of the cosmos. In the present article we\nshall point out the consequences which flow from that moment, in\norder to put in bolder relief the nature of the exaltation which has\nthereby accrued to the cosmos.\n\nFor the sake of perspicuity, we shall bring those consequences under\nthe following heads:\n\n1. Consequences of the hypostatic moment, viewed in reference to the\nexternal action, as the effective typical and final cause of the\ncosmos.\n\n2. Consequences of the hypostatic moment, considered respectively to\nthe nature, properties, and action of the cosmos, as abridged in the\nhuman nature of the Theanthropos.\n\n3. Those which relate to the other moments and persons of the cosmos.\n\n4. Those which affect the Theanthropos himself, in relation to the\nother moments and persons of the cosmos.\n\nWith respect to the consequences of the first class, it is evident\nthat the efficient typical and final cause of the external works\nis absolutely and simply infinite. No real distinction can be made\nbetween God's essence and his action, between his interior and\nexterior action. Any distinction between these things would imply\npotentiality and imperfection, and would throw us back into pantheism.\n\nGod's essence therefore, his interior and external action, are,\nontologically speaking, one and the same. Now, God is absolutely\ninfinite; the effective typical and final cause of the cosmos is\nthereby absolutely infinite. In other words, the cause which calls\nthe cosmos to being is endowed with infinite energy; the cause\nwhich serves as its exemplar and pattern, and which the cosmos must\ndelineate and express, is the infinite perfections of God; the cause\nwhich inclines God to effect it is the infinite and transcendental\nexcellence of his being, as capable of being communicated. Now,\na cause infinite in every respect would naturally claim a term\ncorresponding to the intensity of the action. It is upon this\nprinciple that pantheism has been framed. An infinite cause claims\na term also infinite. Now, an effect infinite in its nature is a\ncontradiction in terms; therefore the work is and can be nothing more\nbut a phenomenon of the infinite.\n\nIf pantheists had paid attention to the Catholic theory, that the\naction of God, because infinite, is distinct in two moments, the one\nimmanent and interior, the other transient and exterior; that the\nsame action in the first moment is absolute and necessary, and gives\nrise to the eternal originations which constitute infinite life;\nthat the same action in the second moment is absolutely free, and\nconsequently master of the intensity of its energy, free to apply\nas much of that energy as it chooses; they would have seen that the\nabove principle applies to the first but not to the second moment,\nand that therefore their theory rests on a false assumption.\n\nHowever, though pantheism rests on a false assumption, it cannot be\ndenied that there is a certain fitness between an infinite cause and\nan effect, as much as possible corresponding to the infinite energy\nof the cause; and that consequently the external action of God,\nbecause infinite, is for that very reason inclined to effect the\nbest possible cosmos, a cosmos almost infinite in its perfection;\nan infinite energy has a tendency to effect an infinite term; an\ninfinite typical perfection, to realize an infinite expression; an\ninfinite yearning of communication, to impart itself in a manner the\nmost exhaustive possible.\n\nThis fitness of proportion between cause and effect is so evident\nas to baffle all doubt; yet the necessary distinction implied by\nthe very nature of cause and effect, a distinction of infinite\nsuperiority on the part of the one and infinite dependence and\ninferiority on the part of the other, in the present case is that\nwhich gives rise to the problem which may be formulated as follows:\ngiven the infinite superiority of the cause of the cosmos, and\nadmitting the essential inferiority of the effect, how to exalt the\neffect to a perfection almost absolute, and draw it as near the\nperfection of the cause as possible, without destroying the absolute\nand necessary finiteness of the effect.\n\nThe hypostatic moment is the sublime and transcendental answer which\nGod has given to the problem. For in that mystery the cosmos, as\nabridged and recapitulated in human nature, without ceasing to be\nwhat it is, without losing its essence and nature, is exalted to\nthe highest possible perfection, by a union of subsistence with the\nInfinite himself. Nay, the infinite subsistence and personality of\nthe Word is the subsistence and personality of the human nature\nassumed; so that the human nature, though real and finite, is at the\nsame time the nature of the person of the Word, and consequently\npartaking of all the dignity, perfection, and excellence of the\nWord. In other terms, the cosmos, as abridged in the human nature\nof Christ, is _deified_, not indeed by a change of its ontological\nbeing, but by the highest, strictest, and closest communication and\nunion with the Godhead. For, next to the identity of nature, we can\nconceive of no closer union or communication than that which exists\nbetween two distinct natures completed and actualized by the same\nidentical subsistence. Now, this identity of subsistence communicates\nto the inferior nature all the worth and dignity of the superior; and\nconsequently the human nature of Christ, and hence the cosmos which\nit abridges, are, as it were, deified in such a manner as to exchange\nthe denomination of attributes, and we can call man God, and God\nman.[130]\n\nThus the tendency of the infinite cause of the external works is\nfully satisfied. The infinite energy of the efficient cause has for\nits term an object perfectly corresponding to the intensity of its\nenergy; since it terminates in an object absolutely infinite--the\n_Word_ completing the two natures, the divine and the human; an\nindividual who is very God as well as very man.\n\nThe typical cause is even better satisfied, so to speak. It tends to\nexpress itself exteriorly, as perfectly as it exists interiorly. By\nthe hypostatic moment, the same identical type of the cosmos, its\nintelligible and objective life enters to form part of the cosmos,\nthe interior _logos_ or _schema_ is wedded to its exterior expression\nin the bond of one subsistence, and is at the same time type and\nexpression, objective and subjective life. Unlike other artists, who\nmust necessarily regret the impossibility of their impressing on the\nexternal work, be it marble or canvas, the interior conceptions of\nthe mind, as fully and as perfectly as they conceive them interiorly,\nthe divine artist of the cosmos found a means whereby to unite,\nto bring together type and expression, the intelligible and the\nsubjective, the original and the copy, in one identical person; so\nthat in the person of the Theanthropos, as you admire the art so\nexquisitely divine in the copy, you are dazzled by the effulgence\nof the type which dwells and shines forth in it; as you wonder at\nthe exactness of the created expression, you can see the original\nconception also, blended together in one common subsistence. The end\nalso of the external work is fully attained. For in the hypostatic\nmoment the infinite and transcendental excellence of God is\ncommunicated in a manner beyond which you could not go; God in this\nmoment yielding himself so far as to make his own subsistence common\nto human nature, and thus making it share in his infinite dignity,\nattributes, and the very name of God.\n\nWe shall allude to one consequence only of the second class; those\nhaving reference to the sublimation of the cosmos; and that is the\nlife of the cosmos.\n\nLife is action and movement. Those beings which act not exist but do\nnot live. If, therefore, the action of the cosmos has been elevated\nto the highest possible perfection by the hypostatic moment, it\nfollows that its life also has been exalted.\n\nNow, though action originates in the nature, which is the first\nprinciple of action in a being, yet its ontological worth and dignity\nit receives from the subsistence or person, because the nature would\nbe an abstraction, a possibility, without the subsistence.\n\nIn the case, therefore, of an individual in whom the nature is\ninferior, and the subsistence, which actualizes and completes the\nnature, is superior, in the scale of being, the actions primarily\noriginating from nature as their first root have all the ontological\nworth of the subsistence, and not of the nature.\n\nConsequently, all the human actions of Christ, primarily originating\nin his human nature, partake of the ontological dignity and value\nof his person, and not of his human nature; just because his human\nnature is completed by and subsists in the personality of the Word.\n\nNow, this personality is infinite; infinite, therefore, is the\nontological worth of the human actions of Christ.\n\nAnd if we consider, as we have already remarked, that human nature is\na recapitulation of all the elements of the cosmos, since it shares\nspirit, intelligence, and will with the angelic nature, sensible\napprehension with animal nature, life with the vegetable nature, and\nlocomotion with inorganic nature, it follows that all the actions of\nthe cosmos are recapitulated in human nature, and that consequently\nthey are exalted to an infinite worth and dignity in the human nature\nof Christ, which is completed by his infinite personality.\n\nThe consequences of the third class will better explain and develop\nthis exaltation of the life of the cosmos. The object of the\nexternal action consists in manifesting the infinite excellence and\nperfections of God. This creation does in two different ways: 1st,\nontologically, the very nature of the cosmos being an expression, a\nlikeness of the infinite. This function is discharged indistinctly\nboth by intelligent and unintelligent beings.\n\n2d. But this function, by which unintelligent creatures unconsciously\nmanifest in their nature and properties the excellence of God, in\nintelligent creatures is necessarily a moral act, and gives rise to\nthe virtue of religion; because intelligent creatures cannot possibly\nfail to perceive the relation which binds them to their creator, and\nto feel the duty of acknowledging it.\n\nHence, religion is an absolute duty for intelligent beings; so\nnecessary and absolute that the opposite assertion would be a\ncontradiction in terms.\n\nTo say a creature, is to affirm a being created by God with the\nexpress purpose of manifesting his perfections; to say intelligent,\nis to affirm a creature able to perceive this relation, and able to\nfulfil the purpose which it perceives was intended by the creator. To\nabsolve, therefore, intelligent creatures from the duty of religion,\nis to affirm and deny in the same breath that they _are_ intelligent\ncreatures.\n\nHence, they must necessarily perceive and will the relation in which\nthey stand to their creator, and consequently be religious by force\nof their very nature and existence.\n\nThe whole cosmos must pay to God, its creator, the homage of\nreligion; unintelligent creatures by unconsciously portraying his\nperfections; intelligent creatures, by acknowledging the same with\ntheir intelligence and will.\n\nNow, this first function of the cosmos, this primary act of its\nlife, is elevated to the highest possible perfection through the\nhypostatic moment. For through this moment the external religion of\nthe cosmos is elevated to the dignity and grandeur of the internal\nreligion.\n\nPhilosophers and theologians do not treat of the existence of the\neternal and objective religion, as often as they do of that religion\nwhich expresses the relations between the creator and his creatures,\nand might be styled external and temporal religion. But every thing\ntemporal is the counterpart of something eternal; every subjective\nexistence has an intelligible objective existence in eternity, a type\nwithout which its subjective existence were inconceivable.\n\nReligion, then, must have its type in God; in his infinite essence\nmust be found those eternal laws which render temporal religion\npossible.\n\nWhat is there in the essence of the infinite which constitutes\nreligion, and establishes its laws?\n\nThe eternal religion is the life of God, its laws the laws of the\ngenesis of his life.\n\nGod is a living, personal being. He is unborn, unbegotten,\nintelligent activity; first termination of the Godhead. By one\neternal, immanent glance of his intelligence he searches, so to\nspeak, and scrutinizes the innermost depths of his essence, and thus\ncomprehends himself, that is, conceives and utters himself interiorly.\n\nThis infinite, most perfect utterance and intelligible expression\nof himself is a second termination of the Godhead; the Word, who\nportrays and manifests the Godhead intelligibly; as the first person\nis the actuation of the Godhead under the termination of intelligent,\nprimary, independent activity and principle.\n\nThis duality of terminations is brought into harmony by a third\nperson, the result of the action of both. For between the intelligent\nprinciple, uttering himself intelligibly, and the utterance, the\nterm of that intellectual conception, there passes necessarily an\ninfinite attraction, a blissful sympathy, an unutterable complacency.\n\nThe Father beholds as in a bright, clear stream of infinite light\nthe unspeakable beauty and loveliness of his infinite perfections,\nand utters them to himself, and delights in that utterance. The\nSon beholds himself as the most perfect, the consubstantial\nrepresentation of the sublime excellence of the Father, and takes\ncomplacency in him as the principle of his personality.\n\nThis common complacency, sympathy, attraction, love, bliss, is the\nthird termination of the Godhead, the Holy Spirit, the breath of the\nlove of both, the personal subsisting attraction of the Father and of\nthe Son, the person who closes the cycle of God's infinite life.\n\nThis is the eternal, immanent, objective religion. For what is\nreligion in its highest metaphysical acceptation? It is the\nintelligible and loving acknowledgment of the infinite nature and\nattributes of God. Now, the Word is the infinite, substantial, and\nintelligible acknowledgment of the Father; the Holy Ghost is the\ninfinite, substantial, loving acknowledgment of both. Therefore, the\neternal mystery of the life of the infinite, the Trinity, is also the\neternal objective religion by which God acknowledges, appreciates and\nhonors himself.\n\nIt might be objected to the soundness of this doctrine, that one of\nthe relations, which is the principal and fundamental in religion,\nthe relation of dependence, is wanting in the life of the infinite,\nand that consequently that life cannot be taken as the eternal type\nof religion.\n\nIn the metaphysical idea of religion, dependence is necessary as\nthe fundamental relation upon which all others rest. Because\nreligion is essentially an acknowledgment of one person from another.\nTherefore, the person who acknowledges himself as indebted to\nanother for something must, by that very fact, be dependent upon\nhim. The intelligible acknowledgment means that one intelligent\nbeing perceives with his mind that he stands indebted to another for\nsomething, and consequently depends upon him for that thing. The\npractical or loving acknowledgment conveys the idea that the person\nwho has perceived his standing indebted to another for something,\nacts in such a manner as to express by his action his sense of the\ndependence. Religion is therefore an intelligible and practical\ndependence of one person upon another.\n\nBut this relation of dependence does not necessarily imply the idea\nof inferiority in the hierarchy of being upon the part of the person\nwho is dependent, and a like superiority on the part of the person\nwho is acknowledged. A dependence of origin or procession, without\nincluding any inferiority on the part of him who is dependent,\nis fully and absolutely sufficient in the metaphysical idea of\ntranscendental religion.\n\nThe reason of this lies in the very nature of transcendental\nreligion or acknowledgment. By this we seek the highest possible,\nthe most perfect idea of acknowledgment, which necessarily implies\nan equality between the person who acknowledges and the person who\nis acknowledged. Otherwise, without the equality the acknowledgment\nwould fall short of the perfection of the object acknowledged.\nNow, an inferiority of nature and attributes in the person who\nacknowledges would destroy the equality and imply an inferiority of\nacknowledgment, and consequently would not represent the idea of the\nhighest, most perfect acknowledgment and religion.\n\nThe Son, therefore, depending upon the Father as to his origin,\nthough absolutely equal to him in nature and attributes, and being\nthe intelligible, infinite expression of the perfections of the\nFather, is, by force of his very personality, the subsisting, living,\nspeaking acknowledgment of the Father.\n\nThe Holy Ghost, depending upon the Father and the Son as to origin,\nthough perfectly equal to them as to nature, and being the loving\nexpression of the infinite goodness of both, is, by force of his very\npersonality, the living, practical recognition of the Father and of\nthe Son.\n\nThe eternal life of God, therefore, is the eternal typical religion.\nIt is the only true religion in the transcendental meaning of the\nterm. Because the more perfect is the recognition, the more adequate\nit is to the object, and the more it approaches to metaphysical\ntruth, which lies in the equation of the type with its expression. It\nis the only religion worthy of God. For religion, as we have said, is\nthe intelligible and practical recognition of God. Now, every one can\nsee that such recognition, to be worthy of God, must be absolutely\nperfect. The intelligible recognition must imply such an idea of\nGod as to be absolute utterance of his nature and perfections; the\nloving recognition must love God in the most perfect and absolute\nsense of the word. Now, God being infinite, an infinite, intelligible\nrecognition, an infinite, practical, loving acknowledgment only can\nbe worthy of him. He alone can know and love himself as he deserves.\nNow, to draw nearer to our subject, we inquire, Is temporal religion\nworthy of God? And we observe, before answering the question, that\nby temporal religion we do not mean that recognition of God which\nresults from the ontological essence of all the beings of the cosmos,\nbut that voluntary and reflex acknowledgment which created spirits,\nwhether men or angels, are bound to pay to their maker. We ask,\ntherefore, is the acknowledgment which created spirits pay to God\nworthy of him, worthy of his infinite and transcendental nature and\nperfections? Evidently not. Because the intelligence of the cherubim,\nhowever high and lofty, and soaring as far above the intelligence of\ninferior created spirits as the eagle's flight over all the feathered\ntribes; the love of the seraphim, however intense, however deep,\nhowever tender, however ardent, are merely and simply finite. On\nthe other hand, what is the intelligence and love of men compared\nwith those of the heavenly spirits, who are so near the supreme\nintelligence and love, when compared to us, and yet so far from it,\nwhen compared with God?\n\nThe religion, therefore, of all created spirits is not proportionate\nto its object; it falls infinitely short of the merits of God. Hence\nthe cosmos, of which created spirits form the best part, with the\nexclusion of the Incarnate Word, cannot properly discharge the first\nand paramount duty of the creature, the homage of acknowledgment and\nadoration to its creator.\n\nBut let the Word, the eternal mediator between God and the cosmos,\nlet the intelligible and objective life, the type of the cosmos,\nenter into it, and the worth of the nature and the acts of the cosmos\nshall be exalted, elevated, changed, transformed; and it can then\npay to God a tribute of recognition fully, perfectly, and absolutely\nworthy of him.\n\nFor the Theanthropos--the God-Man, who is possessed of infinite\nintelligence, and can comprehend God as far as God is intelligible,\nwho is possessed of infinite will, and can love God as far as God\nis amiable, can recognize him, acknowledge him, theoretically and\npractically, as perfectly as he deserves, with absolute equation. And\nthe human nature of the Theanthropos, though in itself finite in its\nessence and in its acts, can likewise render to God a homage fully\nand perfectly worthy of him. First, because the acts of the Word of\nGod, honoring the infinite majesty theoretically and practically\nin an infinite manner, are acts also belonging to human nature,\nare its own acts, so to speak; because they are acts of its own\npersonality, and human nature can say to God, I honor thee with the\nacts of my own person, and they are infinite. Secondly, because even\nthe acts springing immediately from human nature, and consequently\nin themselves finite, in force of the union of these same acts with\nthe divine personality in whom they subsist, acquire an infinite\nworth and dignity because of the person in whom they subsist; and\nhuman nature can say to God, I honor you with my own acts of worship\nand acknowledgment. In both cases, therefore, whether we look at\nthe acts of the Theanthropos springing from his divine nature, or\nat those proceeding from his human nature, they are of infinite\nvalue, by force of the unity of his divine person; and consequently\nthe Theanthropos can recognize God in an infinite manner, a manner\nabsolutely worthy of God.\n\nThe cosmos, then, recapitulated in the human nature of Christ, is\nenabled to worship God as he deserves; the temporal religion of\nthe cosmos is wedded to the eternal; and the Godhead is worshipped\nin his cosmos with the same perfect homage of recognition as he\nreceives from eternity in the bosom of his interior life. The Word,\nas infinite recognition of the Father, is the eternal mediator of\nreligion between the Father and the Holy Ghost. The Word incarnate\nis the mediator of religion between God and his cosmos.\n\nAll angels and men, and to a certain degree all creatures, all\npersons, all individualities, from the highest pinnacle of creation\ndown to the farthest extremities thereof, united in a particular\nmanner, which shall be hereafter explained, with the Theanthropos,\nand partakers of his mind, of his will, of his affections, of his\nheart, of his life, can raise to God a canticle of acknowledgment\nfully worthy of him, perfectly equal to that which rose up silently\nin the bosom of the infinite, when, in the day of his eternity, he\nuttered his infinite word, and breathed his spirit and recognized\nhimself very God.\n\nWho will not admit a dogma which elevates the cosmos to such a height\nof dignity? And what can pantheism offer in its stead? It can destroy\nboth temporal and eternal religion, by identifying both terms, the\ncosmos and the infinite, and thus rendering a true acknowledgment\nof God impossible. But it can never impart that true exaltation,\nthat high dignity to the cosmos, which the Catholic doctrine of\nthe hypostatic moment affords. God acknowledges himself infinitely\nfrom all eternity, by uttering a perfect intellectual expression of\nhimself, and by both aspiring a loving recognition of themselves. We\ncreatures are enabled to acknowledge him as he acknowledges himself;\nthe only recognition worthy of him. The Word, by becoming incarnate,\nenters into the choir of creation, and takes its leadership; brings\ninto it the harmonies of the bosom of God, and on a sudden the music\nand the songs of the cosmos rise up to the height of its leader, and\nmingle with the harmonies of eternal life.\n\nBefore we pass to other consequences of the incarnation, we shall\npoint out a corollary, among all others, which follows from the\ndoctrine above stated, and which, though of the highest importance,\nis lost sight of both by apologists and rationalists.\n\nThis corollary is, that the Christian religion, as Christ founded\nit, is _cosmological law_, and can no more be lost sight of by the\nphilosopher than by a Christian himself.\n\nFor according to the actual plan of the cosmos, the plan which God\nselected, God was not satisfied with that finite, imperfect, natural\nacknowledgment which created spirits might render to him. But, as\nhe was pleased not to leave the cosmos in its natural conditions,\nbut raised it to the highest possible dignity by a union with the\ndivine personality of the Word, so he was not satisfied that the\nacknowledgment which is due to him as the creator should be that\nnatural, imperfect, finite acknowledgment which created spirits\ncould, with their natural force, render to him, but willed that their\nacknowledgment should, by a union with the Theanthropos, be exalted\nto the dignity of the infinite acknowledgment which he renders to\nhimself from all eternity.\n\nThis is a law of the actual cosmos which God selected, and it is as\nmuch a law, an integral part of its constituents, as any natural law\nwhich we may discover. God selected such a cosmos that we might pay\nto him a recognition true and worthy of him.\n\nNow, Christianity, as Christ founded it, is the religion of all\ncreated persons in time and space, who, united to the Theanthropos\nby a particular mode of union, worship God with and through the\nTheanthropos; that is, worship God as he deserves. Consequently\nChristianity is a law of the cosmos, an integral constituent of that\ncosmos which God selected, and hence true, elevating, and imperative.\n\nTrue, because it is a religion the acts of which are fully adequate\nto the object, since in it God is worshipped as perfectly as he\ndeserves.\n\nTrue, because, religion implying a knowledge of God, in Christianity\nknowledge is imparted to the minds of its followers fully adequate to\nthe object known, in its origin, in its mode of communication, and\nits end. In its origin, being derived from the Theanthropos; in its\nmode, being imparted by a peculiar operation of the Theanthropos; and\nin its end, as tending to gradual development, until it has reached\nthe fulness of knowledge, which may be imparted to a pure creature in\npalingenesia.\n\nTrue, because, religion implying operation and action, action is\nimparted in the same manner as knowledge.\n\nElevating, because it is evident that that aim of Christianity is\nto raise human persons from their natural state, from their natural\noperation, to a superior state and operation through the Theanthropos.\n\nImperative, because, God having made Christianity a law of the\ncosmos, which he selected, it is not free to a moral agent to accept\nor reject it, but all must accept it as a law of the cosmos which no\none may contravene.\n\nHence rationalists, and infidels, and indifferentists, in rejecting\nChristianity or in being indifferent to it, reject a law of the\ncosmos, a law which is as essential to the entirety of the cosmos,\nwhich God chose, as the law of gravitation or locomotion; and in\nreasoning upon the cosmos, after rejecting Christianity, rationalists\nand indifferentists should say, \"I do not reason on the actual cosmos\nthat God has selected; I reason on a cosmos of my own creation; I\nlimit it, I contract it, I debase it, as it pleases my fancy; and\nyet, after that, I insist on retaining the name of philosopher.\"\n\nWe pass to the other consequence. The tendency of the exterior act\nis to form the cosmos, and especially created intelligences, into a\nuniversal society. We could prove this by the consideration of the\nefficient, typical, and final cause of the external act; but prefer\nto show it only from the typical cause, or objective life of creation.\n\nThe objective life of the cosmos is the life of the infinite\nintelligibly expressed in the Word. Now, God's life is essentially\none, absolute, most perfect, universal society. One is the nature\nof the infinite terminated and concreted by three distinct\nsubsistences--the Beginning, the Word, the Spirit. One and identical\nis their intelligence and will; because intelligence and will, being\nan attribute of nature, as the three divine personalities partake\nof the same nature, they are at the same time endowed with the same\nidentical intelligence and will.\n\nOne and identical is likewise their life and bliss; because the life\nand bliss of the infinite consists in knowing and loving himself,\nin which operation the three divine personalities share, in force\nof the identical absolute intelligence and will with which they are\nequally endowed. They are finally one by their common and reciprocal\nindwelling in each other; because the beginning is Father, inasmuch\nas his eternal Son dwells in his bosom. The Son is such, inasmuch as\nhe is related to the Father, and dwells in him. The Spirit is such,\ninasmuch as he is related to both, and dwells in both.\n\nThe Trinity, therefore, is the type of one universal perfect society,\nbecause the three divine persons are associated by the unity and\nidentity of nature, of attributes, of life, of happiness, and by a\ncommon indwelling in each other.\n\nNow, the Trinity, as intelligibly mirrored in the Word, is the\nobjective life of the cosmos, or its typical cause. On the other\nhand, we have shown that the plan which God has chosen in his works\n_ad extra_ is that which draws the subjective cosmos as near in\nperfection to its intelligible and objective life as possible.\n\nThe cosmos, therefore, in force of its typical cause, is called to\nrepresent the one most perfect universal society of the three divine\npersons as perfectly as possible.\n\nThis were impossible except by the admission of the existence of the\nTheanthropos into creation. For, once admitting the existence of the\nTheanthropos, we see that the eternal society of the three divine\npersons, as mirrored intelligibly in the Word, the very typical cause\nof the cosmos, has come in contact with the cosmos itself, by the\nclosest, most intimate society--the same identical subsistence: the\neternal and interior society is externated, and the cosmos and the\ninfinite society of God form one single society in the identity of\nthe person of the Word. Man and God are one single society in Christ.\nUnite now all created spirits and persons to this externation of the\ntypical cause, by a principle of which we shall speak in the next\narticle; unite their nature to his nature, their intelligence to\nhis intelligence, their will to his will, their life to his life,\ntheir bliss to his bliss; and we shall have one universal society,\npartaking of the nature, the intelligence, the will, the life, the\nbliss, of the Theanthropos; and thus not only united with each other,\nand meeting each other in one common medium and centre, but also\npresenting a divine society whose bond of union is the intelligence,\nwill, life, bliss, of the Theanthropos communicated to them all;\nand through him and by him ushered into the eternal society of the\nTrinity.\n\nThis is the idea expressed in the sublime prayer of our Lord, when he\nsaid, Father, keep them in thy name whom thou hast given me, that\nthey may be one as WE also are. And not for them only do I pray, but\nfor them also who through their word shall believe in me; that they\nall may be one, as thou, Father, in me, and I in thee; that they also\nmay be one in us, I in them, and thou in me, that they may be made\nperfect in one: that the love wherewith thou hast loved me may be in\nthem, and I in them.[131]\n\nThis consequence of the hypostatic moment affords the cosmological\nreason of the truth, the divinity, the imperative necessity of the\nCatholic Church.\n\nFor the Catholic Church is nothing else but the society of all\nthe persons of the cosmos elevated in Christ and through Christ\nto the eternal typical society of the Trinity, by a community of\nsupernatural intelligence, will, life, bliss, imparted to them by\nthe Theanthropos, to whom they are united, travelling centuries and\ngenerations to add new members to this universal society of all\nages, until the number of members being complete, it shall cease its\ntemporal action, and rest in eternity. This is the only true view of\nthe Catholic Church. Men imagine it to be an after-thought, a thing\nbegun nineteen centuries ago. The Catholic Church is a cosmological\nlaw; and hence _necessary_, _universal_, _imperative_. God in\nacting outside himself might have chosen to effect only substantial\ncreation; but having once determined to effect the hypostatic\nmoment, to cause the Theanthropos to form the exalting principle,\nthe centre, the mediator of the cosmos, he could not but carry\nout to their fullest expression those relations which result from\nthat moment. Now, the Catholic Church is the necessary consequence\nof the hypostatic moment. The Word, the type of the universe, is\nunited to its expression in the unity of his divine personality,\nand is thus placed at the very centre of the universe, as that in\nwhich all things are consolidated. It follows, therefore, that all\ncreated persons must hover round about their centre, must be put in\ncommunication with him, united to him as their centre and mediator by\na communion of intelligence, of will, of life, of bliss, and thus be\nassociated with each other, and united with the eternal archetypical\nsociety--the Trinity.\n\nThis gives as a result a society of all created persons united by the\nbond of the same theanthropic intelligence, will, life, and bliss.\n\nNow, such is the Catholic Church. Therefore it is a cosmological\nlaw in the present plan of the exterior action of God; and as a\ncosmological law is _universal_, extending to all times and places,\n_divine_ in its origin and action, and _imperative_, so the Catholic\nChurch is essentially _universal_ in time and space; _divine_ in\nits origin and action; _imperative_, enforcing its acceptance and\nadhesion on every intellect which can contemplate the plan of the\nexterior works of God.\n\nHence Protestantism is not only a theological error, but a\nphilosophical blunder.\n\nGod effects the hypostatic moment, and makes the Theanthropos the\ncentre of the cosmos, and of the best part of the cosmos--men.\nHe could not be their centre unless they were united to him by\nintelligence, will, and life. And they could not be united to him\nunless they were united to each other by a common theanthropic\nintelligence, will, and life, etc.[132] And the question being of\nincarnate spirits, this union of intelligence, will, and life could\nnot be possible, except it were visible and external.\n\nHence, it is a necessary consequence of the hypostatic moment\nthat men should be united in one universal, visible, and external\nsociety. Protestantism, admitting the hypostatic moment, denies the\nconsequence which so evidently flows from it, and denies by its\nfundamental principle a society of intelligence, and of will, and of\nlife, and also the visibility, the externation of such society, and\ntakes refuge in an individual union between himself and Christ, and\nsays, by the same principle, \"I have a right to form an intelligence\nof my own, in no way connected with the intelligence of other created\npersons. I have a right to follow laws which I shall individually\nfind out and proclaim. I have a right to have a life exclusively my\nown, and no interchange shall pass between me and others.\"\n\nHence the absolute falsehood of Protestantism, which ignores the\nexistence and qualities of this supreme cosmological law.\n\nThe cosmological law is _one_. Protestantism is _multiform_. The\ncosmological law is _universal_. Protestantism is _individual_. The\ncosmological law is _communicative_ and _expansive_. Protestantism is\n_egotistical_.\n\nWhat is more remarkable still is the astounding pretension of\nProtestantism to having enlightened and elevated mankind. Enlightened\nmankind by ignoring the plan of the universe in its beauty, in its\nharmony, in its whole! Elevated mankind by proclaiming individualism\nand egotism in the face of the one great life-giving law of a common\nuniversal society!\n\nWe would beg our Protestant readers to ask themselves the following\nquestions:\n\nIs it true that God made Christ, the Word incarnate, the centre of\nthe cosmos, and hence the centre of all created persons?\n\nIs it true that, in consequence of this, created persons should be\nunited to him by partaking of his intelligence, will, and life?\n\nIs it true that, in force of this union, all created persons become\nunited to each other in force of the principle that two things united\nto a third are united to each other?\n\nIs it true that God has effected all this in order to elevate human\nsociety to the society of his eternal life?\n\nIs it not true that the Catholic Church is nothing but that?\n\nThen the Catholic Church is _cosmological law, one, divine,\nuniversal, imperative_.\n\nWe pass to the fourth class of consequences, those which regard the\nTheanthropos in relation to all the moments and persons of the cosmos.\n\nI. The Theanthropos was intended by God before and above all other\nworks.\n\nEvery one is aware that an intellectual agent, in effecting his\nworks, follows a different order from that which he pursues in\nplanning them; in other words, the order of execution which an\nintellectual agent follows is in the inverse ratio of the order which\nhe follows in idealizing them. In an architect's mind the end and\nuse of a building is first in order, and he idealizes and shapes\nhis building according to the object intended. In the execution of\nthe work the order is inverted, the building is effected first, the\nobject and use are attained afterward.\n\nThe order followed in idealizing a work is called by schoolmen the\norder of _intention;_ that which is pursued in executing the work,\nthe order of _execution_. When we say, therefore, that the hypostatic\nmoment and the Theanthropos are the first of God's external works,\nwe mean, of course, in the order of intention; we mean that they were\nintended by God first and before every other work when he resolved\nto act outside himself;[133] so that the incarnation was determined\nupon, not only independently of the sin of man, but would have taken\nplace even if man had never fallen.[134]\n\nThe metaphysical reason of this consequence is found in the relation\nwhich means bear to the end. It is absolutely necessary that an\nintellectual agent should intend primarily and chiefly that object\nwhich is best calculated to attain the end he has in view in his\naction; which best fulfils his intention and is the most appropriate\nand nearest mean.\n\nNow, the hypostatic moment, and consequently Christ, attains better\nthan any other moment or individual the object of the external action\nof God, as we have shown. Therefore Christ was intended by God first\nand above every other work.\n\nThis consequence is poetically described by the inspired author of\nthe Proverbs, in those beautiful lines so well known:\n\n    \"The Lord possessed me from the beginning of his ways, before\n    he made any thing from the beginning.\n\n    \"I was set up from all eternity, and of old before the earth\n    was made.\n\n    \"The depths were not as yet, and I was already conceived;\n    neither had the foundations of water as yet sprung out.\n\n    \"The mountains with their huge bulk had not as yet been\n    established; before the hills I was brought forth.\n\n    \"He had not made the earth, nor the rivers, nor the poles of\n    the world.\n\n    \"When he prepared the heavens, I was present; when with a\n    certain law and compass he inclosed the depths,\" etc.[135]\n\n2. Consequence. The Theanthropos is the secondary end of God's\nexternal works.\n\nFor, in a series of means necessary to the end, that which is\nfirst and chief is also end in respect to the other means. Christ,\ntherefore, being the first and chief means to attain the end of the\nexternal act, is also end in reference to the other moments, and\nconsequently the secondary end of the cosmos. \"All things,\" said St.\nPaul to the Corinthians, \"are yours; and you are Christ's, and Christ\nis God's.\"\n\n3. Christ is the secondary type of the cosmos. Ontologically\nspeaking, the end determines and shapes the nature and perfections of\nthe means, and bears to the means the relation of type and exemplar.\nNow, Christ is the secondary end of the cosmos; he is, therefore, the\nsecondary model and type of the exterior works; in other words, he is\nthe best and supremest expression of God's infinite excellence, the\narchetype of the cosmos; therefore he is also the secondary type of\nthe cosmos.\n\n4. Christ is the universal mediator between God and his works.\n\nAs in the bosom of God the Word is the medium in the genesis of\nhis eternal life, the link which connects the Father and the\nSpirit; so, outside of God, the incarnate Word is the mediator, the\nmedium universal and absolute, between God and his works, the link\nconnecting the infinite and the finite.\n\nFor, in the first place, the very nature of the hypostatic moment\nmakes him such. He is the _Word_, that is, the very Godhead, with\nhis infinite nature and perfections, under the termination of\nintelligibility.\n\nHe is man, comprehending in his human nature all the various elements\nof substantial creation. Both the Godhead and the human nature\nsubsist of that one termination of intelligibility. It is evident,\ntherefore, that the incarnate Word is essentially, by the very nature\nof the hypostatic union, the medium between the infinite and the\nfinite.\n\nMoreover, every intellectual agent is linked to his work by the type\nof it existing in the intelligence, without which knowledge the agent\ncould never communicate with his work. The divine Artist of the\ncosmos, therefore, is in communication with it by the eternal cosmic\ntype residing in his essence--the Word. Now, Christ is the Word\nincarnate, and, as such, is the type of the cosmos hypostatically\nunited to its expression, the intelligible and objective life\npersonally linked to the subjective. He is, therefore, the medium\nbetween the objective and subjective cosmos, and consequently between\nthe cosmos and God.\n\nHence Christ is essentially the mediator of creation, both in the\nnatural and supernatural moment; inasmuch as by him and through him\nall things were made in both orders.\n\nHe is essentially the mediator of the continuation of existence in\nboth orders; since the same action, by which all things were made,\nthrough him continues to hold them in existence.\n\nHe is essentially the mediator of the action of creatures in both\norders; since the same action by which all things are made to exist,\nand to continue in existence through him, incites them to action and\naids them to develop their faculties. He is essentially the mediator\nof perfection and beatitude; because the same action, which incites\nand aids all existences, both in the natural and supernatural order,\nto develop their faculties, must also perfect them, and bring them to\ntheir final completion. And in the very act of beatitude, when the\ndawn of the vision of God shall flash before the mind of created\nspirits, the Theanthropos shall be the mediator between them and the\nsuperabundant and dazzling effulgence of the infinite, by aiding and\ninvigorating their intellect with the light of glory.\n\n\"In him (Christ) were all things created in heaven and on earth,\nvisible and invisible. He is before all, and by him all things\nconsist.\"[136]\n\n5. Christ is the supreme universal objective science; the supreme\nuniversal objective dialectic.\n\nIn the ontological order intelligibility and reality are one and the\nsame thing; every thing real being by the very fact intelligible, and\n_vice versa_.\n\nNow, Christ is the infinite and finite reality, hypostatically united\ntogether. He is, therefore, the infinite finite intelligibility, and\nconsequently the universal objective science.\n\nHe is also the supreme universal objective dialectic; for he is\nessentially the type and the form of all reasoning. The form of all\nreasoning consists in the comparison of two terms with a third, with\na view of deducing their agreement or disagreement. Christ is at once\nthe infinite universal term, and the finite and particular term; both\nterms agreeing together in the oneness of his divine personality. He\nis, therefore, the type and form of all reasoning, and the objective\ndialectic.\n\n6. He is the light of all finite intelligences. Because, in the first\nplace, he is the space of essences, so to speak; being the subsisting\nintelligibility of the Godhead.\n\nSecondly. Because in his individuality there is the ontological\nagreement of all the problems of the human mind, and the solution of\nall the questions relative to the infinite and the finite, to time\nand eternity, to the absolute and the relative, to immutability and\nmovement, to cause and effect, etc.\n\nThirdly. Because he is the incarnate Word, creating, supporting,\nelevating and perfecting all created intelligences, in force of his\nessential office of universal mediator of the cosmos.\n\n7. Christ is the supreme universal and objective morality.\n\nThe moral perfection of the cosmos consists in the voluntary\nrealization of the final perfection to which it is destined by its\narchetype.\n\nNow, Christ is the archetype of the cosmos. Therefore, he is the\nsupreme objective morality. He is also supreme morality in the sense\nof his inciting and aiding the cosmos in the voluntary reproduction\nand realization of the type, in force of his office of mediator.\nTherefore, etc.\n\n8. Christ is the supreme objective realization of the beautiful.\n\nThe beautiful lies in variety reduced to unity by order and\nproportion. Christ is the infinite and finite, the two beings most\ndistant, brought together into the unity of his divine personality by\norder and proportion, as it is evident to every mind that has grasped\nthe nature of the hypostatic moment.\n\nHe is, therefore, the supreme, universal realization of the beautiful.\n\n9. Christ is the supreme and universal king and ruler of the universe.\n\nFor he is the medium of the creation, preservation, and action of\nthe cosmos; he is its secondary end and exemplar; he is the type and\nlight of intelligence, the law of morality and of the beautiful.\n\nThe cosmos, therefore, is subject and dependent upon him for so many\nreasons, and consequently he is the supreme ruler of it.\n\n10. He is the centre of all the other moments and persons of the\ncosmos; all things gathering around him as their chief, their\nexemplar, their mediator.\n\n\"I am the Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End.\" (Apoc. i. 8.)\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[130] We could not say the human nature is divine, nor could we say\nthe human nature is God, or _vice versa_; but we can only predicate\nthe concrete terms of the concrete. The metaphysical reason is,\nthat the foundation of this interchange of names and properties of\nboth natures lies in their being both concrete in the subsistence\nof the Word. If we consider them abstractly, they are separate, and\nconsequently cannot interchange attributes.\n\n[131] St. John, ch. xvii., _passim_.\n\n[132] The idea comprehends other conditions which it is not necessary\nto unfold now.\n\n[133] \"Dico Deum primaria intentione, qua voluit se creaturis\ncommunicare, voluisse mysterium Incarnationis et Christum Dominum ut\nesset caput et finis divinorum operum sub ipso Deo.\" (Suarez, _De\nIncarnatione_, Disp. v. sect. ii.)\n\n[134] Suarez, Ubicum.\n\n[135] Prov. ch. viii.\n\n[136] St. Paul Colos. ch. v. 16.\n\n\n\n\nBRITTANY: ITS PEOPLE AND ITS POEMS.\n\nSECOND ARTICLE.\n\n\nMore than a year has elapsed since we expressed a hope to present\nour readers with some further specimens of the ancient poetry of\nBrittany. We then gave, translated from their rendering into French\nby M. de Villemarqu\u00e9, a portion of bardic poems, for example, _The\nProphecy of Gwench'lan_; _The Submersion of the City of Is_; _The\nChangeling_, and _The March of Arthur_. These, as well as the\ndialogue between a Druid and a child, (which is perhaps too long for\ninsertion here,) _The Plague of Elliant_, and portions of _Lord Nann\nand the Fay_, retain much of their scientific and often alliterative\nform, a part of which is their arrangement in tercets, or strophes of\nthree lines rhyming together.\n\nWe now proceed to fulfil our promise with regard to the ballad of\n_Lord Nann_, which, however, it may be well to preface with some\nremarks upon that portion of Breton mythology which it illustrates.\n\nThe principal supernatural agents in the popular poetry of Brittany\nare the dwarfs and the fairies.\n\nThe common appellation of these elfish beings is _Korrigan_, whether\nmasculine or feminine, from korr, little, (diminutive, korrik,) and\ngan or gwen, genius.\n\nThe Goddess Koridgwen is said by the Welsh bards to have had nine\nattendant virgins, called the nine Korrigan. This also was the name\nof the nine priestesses of the Isle of Sein.\n\nThe Breton fairies not only bear the same name as the Keltic\ngoddesses and consecrated virgins, but are accredited with the same\npowers of foretelling future events, of curing by magical charms\ndiseases otherwise incurable, of transporting themselves from one end\nof the world to the other in a moment of time, and of taking whatever\nforms they please.\n\nEvery year, at the return of spring, they hold, on the green turf\nnear some fountain, a grand nocturnal feast. In the midst of the\nmost delicate viands there sparkles a cup of crystal, of which the\nsplendor is so great that there is no need of torches, and like the\nmagic vase of the British Keridgwen, containing a marvellous liquid,\none single drop of which conveys the knowledge of all sciences, and\nof all events, past, present, and to come.\n\nThe favorite haunts of the Korrigan are always by springs of water,\nespecially those which are in lonely places in the neighborhood of\nDruidic remains called dolmens, and from which the Holy Virgin, who\nis said to be their especial enemy, has not yet chased them. Their\ntraditional aspect is much the same as that of the other fairy races\nof European nations; their delicate and aerial frames being about two\nfeet in height, perfect in symmetry, and clad in the very thinnest of\nethereal textures. But all their beauty is nocturnal only. By the\nlight of day, which they hate above all things, they are hideous,\nred-eyed, wrinkled, and old; their whole appearance betokening fallen\nintelligences. The Breton peasants assure us that they are great\nprincesses who were struck by the curse of heaven for refusing to\nembrace the Christian faith when the first missionaries preached it\nin Armorica. The peasants of Wales declare them to be the souls of\nDruidesses, condemned to do penance.\n\nTheir breath is deadly. Should any wayfarer trouble the waters of\ntheir fountain, or, near their dolmen, come upon them suddenly, he is\nalmost sure to perish; particularly if it be on a Saturday, the day\nconsecrated to the Blessed Virgin, against whom they bear an especial\nhatred. They also have a great aversion to any token of religion,\nfleeing at the sound of a consecrated bell or at the sight of a\nsoutane.\n\nLike certain of their European cousins, the Korrigan have a decided\n_penchant_ for stealing the infant offspring of the human race, with\nthe object of regenerating their own. Therefore does the peasant\nmother of Brittany place round the neck of her babe a scapular or a\nrosary, that he may be secured against every elfish device, under the\nprotection of Our Blessed Lady.\n\nThe changelings whom the Korrigan are accused of leaving in the place\nof the children whom they carry away are of the race of dwarfs,\nand also bear the name of korr, korrik, and korrigan; as well as\nkornandon, gwanzigan, or duz. This last name is that of the father of\nMerlin, and of an ancient divinity worshipped in that part of Britain\nwhich is now the county of York.\n\nThese dwarfs, we are told, are little, black, and hairy monsters,\nwith the claws of a cat, the hind legs of a goat, and a voice harsh\nand broken with age. They it was who, ages ago, raised the huge\nstones of the menhir and dolmen, and hid beneath them untold hoards\nof treasure. Around these, when the stars are out, they are fond\nof dancing, to the primitive song which consists in an incessant\nrepetition of the names of all the days of the week except Saturday\nand Sunday, of which they studiously avoid all mention. Wednesday,\nthe day of Mercury, is always observed by them with especial\nfestivities. It was they, say the peasants, who engraved the mystic\ncharacters on the Keltic stones of the Morbihan, and especially those\nat Gawr-iniz, or the Isle of the Giant. He who, like Taliessin, could\nread them, would learn all the places of their hidden treasure, and\nto him all the secrets of science would be revealed.\n\nThe dwarfs are less dreaded by the country people than the fays, as\nbeing rather comically mischievous than wholly malicious. The peasant\nwho has taken the precaution to sprinkle himself with holy-water\npasses fearlessly by the lonely dolmen in the solitudes which they\nhaunt.\n\nWe were taught in our early youth that it is to her white cliffs that\nAlbion owes her name; but M. de Villemarqu\u00e9 suggests that she is\nmore probably indebted for it to the god Mercury, the Keltic Hermes,\nwho was the chief divinity worshipped by the insular Britons, under\nthe name of _Gwion_. Their island was especially placed under his\nprotection, and called for that reason the _Isle of Gwion_, or of\n_Alwion_. The same learned author remarks upon the apparent identity\nof the Gwion of Britain and the Gigon of the Tyrians and Phoenicians,\nthe divinity being in each case revered as the god of commerce, the\ninventor of letters, and the patron of all the arts, and represented\nin each case by the figure of a dwarf carrying a purse.\n\nThe dwarfs of Brittany possess all the attributes of Gwion, the heavy\npurse included, and are evidently a part of the Keltic mythology. It\nis often difficult, and sometimes impossible, to determine the date\nof poems of which they form the subject. The burden of the ballad of\n_Lord Nann_ comes down from the cradle of the Indo-European nations,\nand, in numerous localities, finds expression in various forms. The\none of which we here give a translation probably dates from the fifth\nor the sixth century.\n\nThe name _Nann_ is the diminutive of the Breton Reunan.\n\n\n    LORD NANN AND THE FAY.\n\n    Lord Nann and his bride, both plighted\n    In youthful days, soon blighted,\n    Were early disunited.\n\n    Of snow-white twins a pair,\n    Yestreen the lady bare;\n    A son and daughter fair.\n\n    \"What cheer shall I get for thee,\n    Who givest a son to me?\n    Say, sweet, what shall it be?\n\n    \"From the forest green a roe,\n    Or a woodcock from where, I trow,\n    The pond in the vale lies low?\"\n\n    \"For venison am I fain,\n    But would not give thee pain\n    For me the wood to gain.\"\n\n    But while the lady spoke,\n    Lord Nann took his lance of oak,\n    And mounting his jet-black steed,\n    Rode forth to the wood with speed.\n\n    When he gained the greenwood shade,\n    A white hind from the glade\n    Fled, of his lance afraid.\n\n    Swift after the hind he flew;\n    The ground shook 'neath the two,\n    So swiftly on they flew,\n    And late the evening grew.\n\n    The heat streamed from his face,\n    From the horse's flanks apace,\n    Till twilight closed the race.\n\n    A little stream was welling,\n    'Mid softest moss up-swelling,\n    Hard by a haunted dwelling,\n    The grot of a Korrigan.\n    By the streamlet's brink\n    He stooped to drink,\n    For sore athirst was Nann.\n\n        The Korrigan sat there,\n        By the edge of her fountain fair,\n        Combing her golden hair.\n    Combing her hair with a golden comb,\n    For all is of price in the Korrigan's home.\n\n        \"And who, so rash, art thou,\n        Troubling my water's flow?\n    Thou shalt marry me now,\" the Korrigan said,\n    \"Or for seven long years shalt wither and fade,\n    Or in three days hence in the grave be laid!\"\n\n        \"I've been married a year,\" quoth he;\n        \"So think not I marry thee.\n    Nor through seven long years shall I wither and fade,\n    Nor in three days hence in the grave be laid.\n    Dead in three days I shall not be:\n    I will die when it pleases God, not thee.\n    Yet die this moment would Seigneur Nann,\n    Far rather than marry a Korrigan.\"\n\n    \"Dear mother mine, I am sorely sick;\n    Let my bed be made, if you love me, quick.\n    Let not a word to my wife be told:\n        I am under the ban\n        Of a Korrigan;\n    Three days, and you'll lay me in the mould.\"\n\n    In three days' time the young wife said,\n    \"My mother, tell me why the bells are ringing,\n    And why, so low, the black-stoled priests are singing?\"\n    \"A poor man, whom we lodged last night, is dead.\"\n\n        \"My mother, say to me,\n        My Lord Nann, where is he?\"\n\n        \"My daughter, to the town he's gone;\n        To see thee he'll come anon.\"\n\n        \"And tell me, mother dear,\n        My red robe shall I wear,\n    Or shall I my robe of blue put on,\n    When I must to the church be gone?\"\n\n    \"My child, the mode is come to appear\n    At church in naught but sable gear.\"\n\n    As up the church-yard steps she went,\n    On a new-made grave her eyes were bent.\n\n    \"Who of our kin is lately dead,\n    That I see in our ground a grave new-made?\"\n\n    \"Alas! my child, in that grave hard by,\n    That new-made grave which thou dost espy--\n    I cannot hide it--thy lord doth lie!\"\n\n    Upon her knees she sank down then,\n    Nor ever rose she up again.\n    Within the self-same tomb, at close of day,\n    The gentle lady and her husband lay.\n\n    Behold a marvel! When the morning shone\n    Two spreading oaks from out that grave had grown,\n    And 'mid their branches, closely intertwining,\n    Two happy doves of dazzling whiteness shining.\n    Sweetly they cooed at breaking of the day,\n    Then forth together swiftly sped their way.\n    With gladsome notes they circling upward flew,\n    Together vanishing in heaven's deep blue.\n\nThe foregoing ballad is reproduced under no fewer than fifteen\ndifferent variations in Sweden and Denmark, where it is entitled,\n_Sire Olaf and the Dance of the Elves_. In its Servian form of\n_Prince Marko and the Wila_, the latter, instead of taking the life\nof the hero, exacts both his eyes and the four feet of his horse.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nNumerous as are the _traditions_ relating to the dwarfs, the _songs_\nof which they are the subject are very rare. The one we are about\nto give is apparently intended as a satire upon the tailors, that\nill-used class which in all warlike nations has been condemned to\nridicule. In Basse-Bretagne, no one pronounces their name without\nraising the hat, and adding, \"Saving your presence.\"\n\nIt will be remarked that the name of Duz (diminutive, duzik) is,\namong others, given to the dwarfs, which, M. de Villemarqu\u00e9 observes,\nwas that borne by the genii of Gaul in the days of St. Augustine, who\nspeaks of them as \"D\u00e6mones quos _Duscios_ Galli nuncupant.\"[137]\n\nIt is said that a traveller being upon one occasion drawn into\ntheir circling dance, and finding the refrain of \"_dilun, dimeurs,\ndimerc'her_,\" etc., somewhat monotonous, ventured to add the words\n_Saturday and Sunday_, when the sudden explosion of outcries,\nthreatenings, and rage among the assembly was so great that the rash\nadventurer was half-dead with fear. We are told that if only he had\nadded, \"And so the week is done,\" the long penitence to which the\ndwarfs are condemned would have ended.\n\n\n    AR C'HORRED.\n\n    (THE DWARFS.)\n\n    Paskou le Long, the tailor brave, turned thief on Friday night.\n    No more _culottes_ had he to make, since all men went to fight--\n    To fight against the Frankish king, and for their own king's right.\n\n    He took a spade; he sallied forth, and to the grotto went,\n    The grotto of the dwarfs: to find their treasure his intent;\n    And digging deep for hidden hoards, beneath the dolmen bent.\n\n    Ha! here's the treasure. He has found it! Home in haste he hies.\n    To bed he goes. \"Quick! shut the door, and shut it fast,\" he cries,\n    \"Against the little _Duz_ of night:\" and trembles as he lies.\n\n    \"Eh! Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday.\"...\n                            Ah poor soul!\n    They climb and swarm upon his roof, and there they make a hole.\n    My hapless friend, they have thee! haste! throw out the treasure,\n        whole!\n\n    Poor Paskou! Holy-water take, and well besprinkle thee,\n    And cast the sheet about thy head; still as a dead man be,\n    Nor stir in any wise. \"Ah! how I hear them laugh at me,\n    And cry, 'If Paskou can escape, a cunning man is he!'\n\n    \"O heavens! here is one; and see, his head the hole is hiding;\n    His eyes like embers glow, as down the bed-post he comes sliding;\n    And after him, one, two, three, four; ah! multitudes, are gliding.\n\n    \"They bound, they dance, they race, they tumble wildly o'er the\n        floor.\"...\n    \"Eh, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday....\n                            \"Two, three, four.\n    \"Eh, little tailor, dear!--five, six, seven, eight, and something\n        more.\n\n    \"Dear little tailor, surely thou art strangled with the clothes!\n    Dear little tailor, only show a bit of thy dear nose!\n    Come: let us teach thee how to dance--dance, dance, for late it grows.\n\n    \"Come: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday ... little tailor, thou'rt a knave!\n    Come, rob the dwarfs again, and see what treasure thou shalt have.\n    Dance, wicked little tailor, dance; and dance into thy grave!\"\n\n        The money of the dwarfs is worth nothing.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_The Plague of Elliant_ commemorates a frightful pestilence which,\nin the sixth century, desolated not only Armorica, but the whole of\nEurope. Those who were attacked by it lost their hair, their teeth,\nand their sight; became yellow and languid, and speedily died. The\nparish of Elliant, in Cornouaille, was one of several from which the\nwhole population perished. The neighboring country, especially that\naround Tourc'h, was preserved from the scourge by the prayers of a\nhermit named Rasian.\n\nWe are told by M. de Villemarqu\u00e9 that the ballad of The _Plague of\nElliant_ is never sung without the addition of the following legend:\n\n\"It was the day of the _Pardon_ (the feast of the patron saint) at\nElliant; a young miller, arriving at the ford with his horses, saw a\nfair lady in a white robe seated on the bank of the river, a little\nstaff in her hand, and who requested him to convey her over the\nwater. 'Oh! yes; assuredly, madame,' replied he, and already she was\non his horse's crupper, and soon deposited on the other side. Then\nthe fair lady said to him, 'Young man, you know not whom you have\nbrought over: I am the Plague. I have just made the tour of Brittany,\nand I go to the church of the town, where they are ringing for mass;\nall whom I strike with my staff will quickly die; as for yourself,\nfear nothing; no harm shall happen to you, nor yet to your mother.\"\n\n\"And the Plague kept her word,\" adds the Breton peasant; for does not\nthe song itself say that none but\n\n    \"A widow poor of sixty, and her only son, are left?\"\n\nThe following is most probably only a fragment of the original:\n\n\n    THE PLAGUE OF ELLIANT.\n\n    Thus spake the holy bard who dwells not far from Langolen.\n    'Twixt Langolen and Le Faouet, the father Rasian:\n    Let every month a mass be said, ye men of Le Faouet,\n    A holy mass for all the souls the plague has rent away.\n\n    From Elliant, bearing heavy spoils, at last the plague has gone:\n    Seven thousand and a hundred slain, and left but two alone.\n    Death has come down upon the land, and Elliant has bereft:\n    A widow poor of sixty, and her only son, are left.\n\n    \"The plague is at my cottage door, and when God wills,\" she said,\n    \"She will come in, and we go out, among the other dead.\"\n    Go look in Elliant market-place, and mow the waving grass;\n    Save in the narrow rut whereby the dead-cart used to pass.\n\n    Oh! hard must be the heart of him, whoever he may be,\n    Who would not weep, such utter desolation could he see.\n    See, eighteen carts all piled with dead stand at the graveyard gate;\n    And eighteen carts all piled with dead, behind their turn await.\n\n    Nine children of one house there were, who on one tumbrel lay,\n    Which their poor mother dragged alone along the burial-way.\n    Their father followed, whistling, for his reason all had fled;\n    The mother wailed, and called on God, and pointed to her dead.\n\n    \"Oh! bury my nine sons,\" she cried. \"Oh! lay them in the ground;\n    A rope of wax I promise that shall thrice your walls surround,\n    Your church and sanctuary both therein shall be enwound.\n\n    \"Nine sons I brought into the world: Death has not spared me one;\n    On my own hearth he struck them down, and left me all alone.\n    None have I now who might to me a drop of water give:\n    Ah! why am I not stricken too; for wherefore should I live?\"\n\n    The cemetery full is piled, high as its walls, with dead;\n    The church heaped to the steps: the fields must now be hallowed.\n\n    In the church-yard I see an oak, and from its topmost bough\n    A white sheet hangs, the truce of death; for all are buried now.\n\nThere is no surer remedy, in the estimation of the Breton peasantry,\nagainst an epidemic than to make a song about it. \"The Plague,\nfinding herself discovered, fled away.\" Thus, as one among many\nexamples of the practical utility of the popular poetry, we find that\nwhen, some years ago, Brittany was severely visited by the cholera,\nno attention was paid to the printed circulars which were issued by\nmedical and magisterial authority; all the preparation made by the\npeople to meet it was _to dig an extra number of graves_, until a\npopular poet put into verse the good advice concerning preventives\nand remedies which, when placarded in official prose, had been\npassed by with no more notice than a grave and incredulous shake of\nthe head. But a week after the composition of the \"Song upon the\nCholera\" it was heard in every remote hamlet or farm throughout\nBrittany. The verses in themselves were detestable, in the way of\npoetry; no matter, the cholera, finding itself the subject of a\nsong, would take flight. From the power attributed by the people to\npoesy arises the Breton proverb, \"Poesy is stronger than the three\nstrongest things: stronger than evil, than tempest, or than fire.\"\nAnd again, \"Song is the calmer of all sorrow.\" All the Keltic poems,\nwhich, like _The Plague of Elliant_, are written in strophes, are\nsung throughout to some national air, however lengthy they may be.\n\"I remember,\" writes M. \u00c9mile Souvestre, \"that one day, arriving at\nthe _Pardon_ of St. Jean du Doigt, near Morlaix, I heard a blind man\nwho was singing Breton verses on the Nativity: in passing by again\nin the evening, I found him still in the same place, continuing his\nsubject, which was by no means concluded, and which, he informed me,\nit required an entire day to get through, though he did not yet know\nthe whole.\"\n\nIt is impossible to compute the number of the popular poems of\nBrittany. The author just quoted considers that eight or ten thousand\nwould not reach the reality; and he proceeds to describe the manner\nin which they mingle with the very _air_ of the country, as follows:\n\n    \"No words can do justice to the intoxicating sensation which\n    he who understands our old language experiences, when, on a\n    fine summer evening, he traverses the mountains of Cornouaille,\n    listening to the songs of the shepherds. At every step the\n    voice, perhaps of a child, perhaps of an aged woman, sends\n    forth to him from the distance a fragment of some antique\n    ballad, sung to melodies such as are never now composed, and\n    narrating the miracle of a former time, or a crime committed\n    in the valley, or an attachment which has broken the heart.\n    The couplets answer one another from rock to rock; the verses\n    sport in the air like the insects of the evening; the wind\n    carries them by gusts into your face, with the perfume of\n    the black-wheat and the rye; and, immersed in this poetic\n    atmosphere, enchanted and meditative, you advance into the\n    midst of the rural solitudes. You perceive great Druidic\n    stones, clothed with moss, leaning toward the border of the\n    wood; feudal ruins, half-hidden in the thickets or breaking\n    the slope of the hills, while at times, on the heights of the\n    mountain, figures of men, with long hair flying in the wind,\n    and strangely clad, pass like shadows between you and the\n    horizon, marked out against the sky, which is just beginning to\n    be illumined by the rising moon. It is like a vision of bygone\n    times; like a waking dream that one might have after reading a\n    page of Ossian.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWe will close our present article with a translation of the S\u00f4ne\nof Per C\u00f6atmor, as promised in our last; hoping in a future one to\nconclude our notice of the more ancient and \"learned\" poetry of\nBrittany, that is, that which was composed according to the bardic\nrules, with some curious fragments relating to Merlin the Magician\nand Merlin the Bard; to be followed by specimens of the historical\npoems of Brittany.\n\n\n    BRETON SONE.\n\n    \"Not to Rouen, not to Paris, go I, friend, with thee.\n    What among the folk of the High Country should I see?\n    Treacherous ice, whereon one slips and falls, they say to me.\n\n    \"Only to the mortuary I my steps will bend;\n    To the village mortuary with thee will I wend,\n    And behold the bones; for one day we must die, my friend.\n\n    \"Bare of fleshly garb, the bones lie there, by day and night.\n    Where is now their skin so soft, and where their hands so white?\n    Where their souls? oh! where, my friend? In darkness or in light?\n\n    \"Ah friend! when the preachers preach, you laugh at what they say.\n    'In _this_ life you will dance? Ah! well, so in the next you may.\n    There's a hall prepared below for dancers mad and gay.\n\n    'Carpeted with points of steel, where barefoot dancers fly,\n    Lit with fiery prongs which demons brandish, as they cry,\n    Dance, young man! to dances and to pardons who would'st hie.'\"\n\n    \"Silence, maiden! mock me not, but give me love for love;\n    Take me for thy spouse; our life shall sweet and joyful prove.\n    Henceforth pardons nor the dance my spirit e'er shall move.\"\n\n    \"Not fifteen was I, my friend, when to the church I went.\n    'Leave the world,' my angel whispered, 'leave its discontent.\n    To the veil and cloistered life henceforth thy will be bent.'\n\n    \"Girl, forget thy convent dream; believe and marry me.\n    Safer, stronger than the convent walls my care shall be.\n    With a sheltering love, sweet maid, will I encompass thee.\"\n\n    \"Youth, not so; but let thy heart toward another lean;\n    Let some fairer maid from me thy fond affection wean;\n    Twere an easy task; good looks are thine, and portly mien.\"[138]\n\n    'Fairer maid than thou, nor any _like_ to thee, will I.\n    _Thee_ must I have, nor worse, nor better: if not thee, I die.\n    Stay, and let this silver ring around thy finger lie.\"\n\n    \"No bright ring of earthly troth my finger shall ensnare.\n    Heaven's espousal ring alone my hand shall ever bear:\n    That high bond of love nor chance nor changes can outwear?\"\n\n    \"Maiden, if thou speakest truly, profitless and vain\n    All the time which I have spent thy favor sweet to gain.\n    For the pleasures that are past I nothing reap but pain!\"\n\n    \"Youth, what days for me thou mayst have lost, will I repay\n    Praying for thy soul's good speed and health by night and day;\n    So to blessed Paradise thou mayst not miss the way.\"\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[137] _De Civit. Dei_, lib. xv. cxxiii.\n\n[138] M. Souvestre's note to this passage is, \"En Bretagne, aux yeux\ndes paysans, la corpulence est une grande beaut\u00e9; c'est un signe de\ndistinction, de richesse, de loisir,\" etc.\n\n\n\n\nLINES.\n\nFROM THE LATIN OF THEODULPHUS, BISHOP OF ORLEANS, A.D. 820.\n\n\n    Adspice ne vitiet tumidus pr\u00e6cordia fastus,\n        Dum loca sublimis editiora tenes,\n    Dumque favent populi vallaris pluribus unus,\n        Undique te septum prosperitate putes;\n    Neve quod es demant oblivia segnia menti,\n        Ultima sit semper conspicienda dies.\n    Ut valeas omni vitiorum sorde carere,\n        Hoc quod es aspicito, non tamen id quod habes.\n    Ipse licet sedeas gemmis ornatus et ostro,\n        Post carnis putridus tempora pulvis eris.\n    Corpus enim fulvo quod nunc accingitur auro\n        Squalenti intectum veste premetur humo.\n    Quod mare, quod terr\u00e6, quod et aer gestat edendum,\n        Eheu! sordidulus post cinis illud erit.\n    Quemque tegunt celsis laqueata palatia tectis,\n        Parvaque conquereris culmina magna satis,\n    Clausus in angust\u00e2 modic\u00e2que tenebris urn\u00e2\n        Vixque domus tibimet corpore major erit.\n    Plura quid enumerem? Visu quod cernitur aptum,\n        Visibus humanis quod favet atque placet,\n    Post vitam vermis, post vermem pulvis habebit,\n        Voce Tonantis erit, quum redit, unde venit.\n\n    TRANSLATION.\n\n    O thou who, seated in the place of power,\n      Dost hear the praise and see the prostrate crowd,\n    When all things smile upon thy prosperous hour,\n          Let not thy heart be proud!\n\n    Be not with dull oblivion overcast;\n      Keep ever in thy sight life's certain goal;\n    Consider what thou art, not what thou hast.\n          And so be pure of soul.\n\n    Thou sittest to-day in purple and in gold;\n      Thy vesture is with jewels clasped to-day;\n    How soon the squalid earth-robe will enfold\n          The little mouldering clay!\n\n    Of all earth nourishes--the flocks of air,\n      The life that ocean in its deep maintains--\n    Of all the plenty spread for banquets rare--\n          What nothingness remains!\n\n    Now lofty painted ceilings shield thee well;\n      Now thy broad halls too narrow seem to be;\n    Scarce larger than thy mortal frame, the cell\n          Will soon suffice for thee.\n\n    What further say? O all that doth rejoice\n      Our human eyes! O all with beauty rife!\n    The worm! the dust! and then--the thunder-voice\n          That calls the dead to life!\n\n                                                    C. E. B.\n\n\n\n\nGERALD GRIFFIN.\n\n\nIn October, 1823, there arrived in the city of London a young man\nfrom the south of Ireland, unknown and without a friend in that vast\nmetropolis. A stranger in a strange land, he brought with him nothing\nbut a cultivated mind, a fresh, vigorous constitution, a pleasing\naddress, a spirit of self-reliance amounting almost to a morbid\ndislike for every thing savoring of patronage, a slender purse, and\na few manuscript plays, the labor of boyhood's leisure hours. His\nexperience of life had been confined to his own peaceful household on\nthe banks of the Shannon, and the society of a few intimate friends\nof his family. His contributions to literature amounted simply\nto some sketches published in the newspapers of his native city,\nLimerick, and the, to him, precious burden he bore with him in this\nhis first adventure into the unknown world. Thus provided, he aspired\nwith all the glorious confidence of youthful ambition to no less a\nmission than the reformation of the modern drama, and the infusion of\nmoral sentiment into works of fiction, even then fast acquiring those\ndeleterious qualities which so thoroughly permeate them in our day.\n\nThis young literary knight-errant was Gerald Griffin, who, born\non the 12th day of December, 1803, had not yet completed his\ntwentieth year. The story of his early life, as told by the pen of\nan affectionate brother, is remarkable principally for the calm,\nholy atmosphere of parental love by which it was surrounded, and\nthe judicious mental training to which he was subjected even from\nhis earliest infancy. His father, Patrick Griffin, a descendant of\nan ancient Irish family, seems to have occupied a social position\nequally removed from penury and affluence; such a one, at least, as\nenabled him to support his large family with comfort, and provide\neach of his children with an education not only suitable to their\ncondition, but more extensive and varied than at that time was\nconsidered necessary for the sons and daughters of the middle class.\nHe was a man of robust constitution, facile temper, an ardent\nnationalist, and well read in the history and antiquities of his\ncountry. His mother, a woman of more than ordinary cultivation\nand great religious fervor, was entirely devoted to her household\nduties and the moral training of her children, and we cannot better\nconvey an idea of the character of this admirable woman than by\ntranscribing the following extract from one of her letters to her son:\n\n    \"I have, my dear Gerald, travelled with you through your\n    mortifying difficulties, and am proud of my son--proud of his\n    integrity, talents, prudence, and, above all, his appearing\n    superior to that passion of common minds, revenge; I must own,\n    fully provoked to it by ----'s conduct. I hope, however, they\n    may soon have to seek you, not you them. Perhaps, after all,\n    it may have been as well that we did not know at the time what\n    you were to endure on your first outset. We should in that\n    case have been advising you to come out here, which perhaps\n    would have been turning your back on that fame and fortune\n    which I hope will one day reward your laudable perseverance\n    and industry. When the very intention you mention of paying us\n    a visit delights me so much, what should I feel if Providence\n    should have in reserve for me the blessing of once again\n    embracing my Gerald?\"\n\nGerald united in himself the leading characteristics of both parents\nin a remarkable degree. His love of home forms the constant theme of\nhis letters, while his attachment to country and delicate moral sense\nmay properly be said to have tinged every page of his prose, and\ninspired every line of his poetry. His brothers and sisters, eight in\nnumber, were equally worthy of such progenitors, and of the author of\n_The Collegians_; the former becoming distinguished members of the\nliberal professions, and the latter, in most instances, adopting the\nhabits and worthily fulfilling the duties of a religious life.\n\nWhen the young Gerald was about seven years old, his father,\nabandoning business in Limerick, removed some miles from that city,\nand settled on a farm pleasantly situated near the confluence of\nthe little river Oavaan and the Shannon. Here the future novelist\nand poet spent ten of the happiest years of his life. Surrounded on\nall sides by scenery the most picturesque, wood, mountain, lake,\nand river, his youthful imagination, so susceptible of impressions\nof physical as well as moral beauty, found ample scope. Reserved in\nmanner even with his playmates, he was wont to shun their society,\nand wander alone for hours through the fields or by the riverside,\nhis gun or fishing-rod unused, and his whole being drinking in the\nbeauties of the ever-varying landscape, or gazing wonderingly on\nthe distant \"lovely hills of Clare,\" the boundary of his world.\nHis love for the supernatural and his fondness for fairy lore were\nearly developed in this sylvan retreat, where every ruin had its\ntragic history, every graveyard its especial ghost, and every rath\nand cairn its appropriate legend. How far such constant communings\nwith nature had a tendency to disqualify him for the stern battle\nof life which he was destined afterward to wage with such varying\nfortune, we cannot undertake to say; but doubtless often, when in\npoverty and exile, the recollection of those years so tranquilly\nand innocently spent must have brightened many a solitary hour, and\nit is certain that to this early development of a taste for moral\nbeauty we are indebted for some of the most vivid and truthful of his\nword-paintings.\n\nBut his mind was not altogether occupied in contemplation. His\neducation, begun in Limerick, was assiduously continued in the\ncountry under the direction of a visiting tutor and the older members\nof his family, until at an early age he had mastered not only the\nrudiments of the French language, but had acquired a comparatively\nextensive and accurate knowledge of the English classics. He was\nespecially fond of poetry, and was accustomed, even when a child,\nto copy out passages from Goldsmith and Moore; and his application\nto his studies of all kinds was so intense that he is described by\nhis relatives as being invariably in the habit of sitting at his\nmeals with a book open before him, and two or three in reserve ready\nto his hand. Goldsmith's _Animated Nature_ was one of his favorite\nbooks, and he endeavored to turn it to practical account by copying\nits illustrations, and rearing with his own hand numbers of the\nlittle song-birds to be so plentifully found in the neighborhood.\nIn the year 1814, we find him for a short time at the school of a\nMr. O'Brien, in Limerick, deep in the fascinating pages of Horace,\nOvid, and Virgil, the latter of whom, as might be expected, was his\nfavorite poet, and so earnestly did he explore this, to him, new mine\nof poesy that he is said to have attained a remarkable proficiency in\nthe Latin tongue at an age when other children are but imperfectly\nacquainted with their vernacular. Though soon deprived of the\nvaluable supervision of Mr. O'Brien, he continued his readings of the\nclassics for several years at a neighboring school, and in maturer\nyears evinced in conversation and composition a decided preference\nfor this branch of his early studies.\n\nIn 1820, the delightful family circle at Fairy Lawn was broken up.\nMr. Griffin, senior, his wife and several of their older children,\nemigrated to this country, and settled near Binghamton, in the\nState of New York. Gerald, with one older brother and two younger\nsisters, was left under the protection of the oldest remaining\nbrother, Dr. William Griffin, then a practising physician in Adare,\na pretty village a few miles from Limerick. The separation from\nthe two beings he loved best on earth was a sad calamity for the\naffectionate lad; but hope, that star which always shone brightly\nfor him no matter how cloudy the horizon, consoled him for what he\nbelieved to be only a temporary bereavement. \"Gerald,\" says one\nof his sisters in a letter to America, \"has a biscuit from your\nsea store, which he says he will produce at the first meal we eat\ntogether in Susquehanna.\" The change of residence had one advantage,\nhowever; for while it did not interfere with his home studies, or\neven with his rambles in search of fresh scenery and old traditions,\nit gave him an opportunity of often visiting the city, and forming\nthe acquaintance of young men of congenial tastes, principal among\nwhom was John Banim, one of the authors of the celebrated _Tales\nof the O'Hara Family_. He became also a frequent attendant at such\ntheatrical performances as the place at that time afforded, and even\ncontributed reports, sketches, verses, and leading articles to the\nlocal journals, which, if they were not very profitable or widely\nknown, \"obliged him,\" he tells us, \"to write with quickness, and\nwithout much study.\" But the young man had already drunk too deeply\nof the unpolluted waters of English and Latin lore to be satisfied\nwith the superficial nothings of provincial journalism, or to relish\nthe crudities of the dramatic pieces with which the wandering\nplayers were then accustomed to regale the unsophisticated people of\nsecond-class cities. The modern drama seemed to him flimsy in its\nconstruction, and, if not positively immoral, certainly in tendency\nfalling far short of its legitimate object, which, as the great\ndramatist tells us, \"is and was to hold the mirror up to nature,\"\netc. He reflected seriously on the possibility of its reformation,\nand, like a true reformer, zealously set to work to accomplish this\ndesirable purpose, encouraged no doubt by the applause which greeted\nthe appearance of his young countryman's _Damon and Pythias_. He\nwrote about this time three or four plays, none of which were ever\npresented to the public; and of the names and plots of all but one\nwe are ignorant. That was called _Aquire_, and being a production\nof considerable merit, judging from the favorable opinion of it\nexpressed by Banim and other theatrical critics to whose inspection\nit was confidentially submitted, would very probably have met with\nsuccess on the stage had not the author's over-sensitiveness induced\nhim to withdraw it altogether, after endeavoring two or three times\nto procure its representation. His next step was to leave Ireland for\na wider sphere of action; but it was only after repeated and urgent\nsolicitation, and upon reading over this drama, which seemed to\ncontain many excellences, that his brother and guardian, Dr. Griffin,\nconsented to gratify his longing to visit London, where he felt he\nwould have unlimited scope to develop his idea of reform. The consent\ngained, Gerald left home for the first time, radiant with hope and\nconfident of success.\n\nA youthful aspirant for literary honors could not have made his\n_d\u00e9but_ at a more unpropitious time. London was then, as now, the\ngreat maelstrom which drew into its vortex most of the enterprise and\ngenius of the three kingdoms, and, alas! proved the grave of too many\noverwrought and unappreciated minds. The fame of Byron, Moore, and a\nhost of contemporary poets was then in its zenith, and the refulgence\nof their genius eclipsed the light of all lesser stars which might\nhave shone brightly in any other atmosphere. The stage was so\ncompletely neglected or debased that the legitimate drama had given\nplace to spectacular frivolities, and hundreds of plays of merit were\noffered every year to the London managers only to be rejected. The\nwonderful success of Sir Walter Scott as a novelist had produced a\ncrowd of plagiarists, as inferior in ability as they were formidable\nin prolixity, who had filled the shelves of the booksellers with\nthe veriest trash, and satiated _ad nauseam_ the public taste for\nromance. Even the field of Irish fiction was apparently fully\noccupied. Maria Edgeworth's justly admired tales were in every\nhousehold, and the stronger and brighter imagination of Banim had\nalready plumed its pinions, and tried its first flight with marked\nsuccess. The era of patronage, when the great and wealthy of the land\nesteemed it a privilege to throw the \u00e6gis of their protection over\nthe artist and man of letters, had passed away, perhaps happily, for\never, and that of Bulwer and Dickens, Thackeray and Lever had not\narrived; men whose magic pens seem to have realized the alchemist's\ndream, and turned every thing they touched into gold. It was well for\nthe young adventurer that these difficulties did not at once present\nthemselves, or, if discerned at all, it was through that enchanting\nhalo with which youth surrounds the future.\n\nOn Gerald's arrival in London, his first step was to procure\nrespectable lodgings; his next to place in the hands of some person\nconnected with the stage, but whose name has not transpired, a copy\nof one of his plays for criticism and acceptance. This person, though\nthe only one to whom the friendless lad was able to procure an\nintroduction, took the piece with warm professions of friendship, and\npromised it his early consideration; but, after retaining it for some\nthree months, sent it back, \"wrapped up in an old newspaper,\" without\na word of comment, explanation, or apology. The interval was one of\npainful suspense for the aspiring writer, somewhat relieved by the\ngenial and unselfish kindness of Banim, whose residence in London he\nsoon discovered. Although having had but a slight acquaintance with\nGerald, and being himself very few years his senior, and still on the\nthreshold of fame, John Banim, to his immortal credit be it said,\nextended to his junior countryman the hospitality of his house, and,\nwhat was much more grateful, the sunshine of his genial conversation\nand the refuge of his cheerful fireside. He went even further: with\na total absence of professional jealousy, he took _Aquire_, read it\nover carefully, commended its best passages, pointed out the errors\nto be erased, the superabundant metaphor and mere poetic imagery to\nbe pruned, and used all his efforts to procure its representation.\nGerald was deeply grateful. \"What would I have done,\" he writes to\nhis brother, \"if I had not found Banim? I should never be tired of\ntalking about and thinking of Banim.\" It was at the suggestion of\nthis invaluable friend that, in the early part of the following\nyear, he wrote _Gisippus_, and many of its most striking scenes\nowe something to the matured judgment of the author of _Damon and\nPythias_. This play, written, as he tells us, on little slips of\npaper in coffee-houses, though one of great merit, for originality\nof conception, dignity of language, and startling incidents, was not\nacted till two years after the author's death; and when Macready at\nlength introduced it to the public, it was received with great favor,\nand still, to use a theatrical phrase, \"keeps the boards.\"\n\nBut months passed wearily away in the strange city, and Gerald's\nhopes were as far as ever from fruition--months spent in fruitless\nefforts to obtain some sort of employment that would enable him to\nsupport himself, while he waited the pleasure of managers and danced\nattendance on theatrical committees. Again and again he applied\nfor the position of reporter on the press, but was answered that\nthe places were all filled. He might have become a police-news\nreporter, but he was told that it was \"hardly reputable.\" He wrote\nfor the literary weeklies, but was cheated by every one of them; he\ncontributed to the larger magazines, and his articles were inserted;\nbut when payment was requested, \"there was so much shuffling and\nshabby work\" that he left them in disgust; he commenced the study\nof Spanish, with a view to co\u00f6perate with Valentine Llanos in the\ntranslation of Spanish dramas; but Colburn and the other publishers\ntold him that it was \"entirely out of their line.\" At last he\nundertook with avidity to translate from the French a volume and\na half of one of Prevot's works for two guineas--about ten and a\nhalf dollars. It is no wonder, then, that in the bitterness of\nhis extremity he wrote to his sister, \"If I could make a fortune\nby splitting matches, I think I would never put a word in print.\"\nThough practising the most rigid economy, the occasional remittances\nhe received from his brother, many of them unsolicited, did not\nsuffice for his ordinary wants; he was compelled to give up his first\nlodgings and seek others in a more obscure part of the city, and was\neven obliged to refuse the pressing invitations of his friend Banim\nto meet Doctor Maginn and other celebrities, at the house of the\nformer, for want of proper apparel. \"The fact is,\" he writes home at\nthis time, \"I am at present almost a complete prisoner. I wait until\ndusk every evening to creep from my mouse-hole, and snatch a little\nfresh air on the bridge close by.\"\n\nStaggering under the weight of disappointment and poverty, he was\nyet to encounter the additional torture of ill health. Stooping\nconstantly over his desk, he contracted an affection of the lungs,\nthe unaccustomed dampness of a London fog had given him rheumatism,\nand he was occasionally attacked with violent palpitations of\nthe heart, which endangered life itself. The joyous spirit which\nhad soared like a bird beneath its native skies on the banks of\nthe Shannon, drooped its wings in the heavy miasma of the Thames;\nfagging, unrequited labor made his days a burden and his nights\nsleepless; his wardrobe was so threadbare that for months at a time\nhe would not stir abroad in the daylight, and consequently did not\nmeet the face of an acquaintance, and his supply of food so meagre\nthat he was often obliged to dispense with the commonest necessaries\nof life. Indeed, so reduced had he become in circumstances at this\ntime that a friend of his relates that, having lost sight of him\nfor several days, and apprehending the true cause of his absence,\nafter long searching he discovered him in a veritable garret, and,\nthough it was past midnight, still endeavoring to work on his\nmanuscripts. But what must have been his astonishment when he wrung\nfrom Gerald the unwilling but unostentatious confession that he had\nbeen without food for three consecutive days? It is unnecessary to\nsay that his immediate wants were supplied by the kind friend who had\nthus timely visited him, though not without some hesitation on the\npart of the recipient of the favor. Still, nothing could daunt his\nindomitable will, no misfortune could lessen the self-consciousness\nof his ability to achieve ultimate success, or break down his proud,\ntoo proud, spirit of personal independence. He might easily have\nobtained money from his relatives in Ireland; but he forebore to\naccept from them what his susceptibilities led him to suppose they\ncould ill afford, and even his true friend Banim, upon incidentally\ndiscovering his situation and tendering him in the most delicate\nmanner some pecuniary assistance, was met with a decided and not\nover courteous refusal. His enforced poverty likewise had a very\ninjurious effect on his prospects as a dramatic author; for, unable\nto mingle on an equality with men connected with the stage, he lost\nall chance of personal intercourse with managers and critics, and\nfinally conceived such a distaste for or indifference to his first\naffection, the drama, that he relinquished for ever the design of\nreforming the stage, the hope that had lain nearest to his heart and\nhad prompted his self-imposed exile from his native country. Though\nfew men loved literature more for its own sake, or are, fortunately\ngenerally called upon to offer more sacrifices at its shrine, the\nvital question with him had now become narrowed down to the very one\nof existence itself; for, to use his own expression, \"he preferred\ndeath to failure.\"\n\nThus nearly two years passed away in London, and, sick at heart and\nenfeebled in body, he felt thousands and thousands of times, as he\nwrites to his parents, that he could have lain down quietly and died\nat once, and been forgotten for ever. But in this his darkest hour a\nray of hope unexpectedly crossed his gloomy path, and with all the\nhopefulness of a rejuvenated spirit he hailed it as the harbinger of\na new and more prosperous epoch. A Mr. Foster, having accidentally\nbecome acquainted with his almost hopeless condition, procured him\nemployment at fifty pounds a year as reader and corrector for a\npublisher, and his gifted countryman Maginn, immediately upon hearing\nof his reduced circumstances, obtained for him a situation on _The\nLiterary Gazette_, which soon led to a profitable connection with\nother journals of a like character. To all these he contributed\narticles in prose and poetry on every imaginable topic, and\ndisplayed such an adaptability and versatility of talent that his\nservices were not only well rewarded by their respective publishers,\nbut very generally appreciated by the reading community. Many of the\ntales and sketches which at this time came from his pen were sent in\nand published anonymously, or simply signed \"Joseph,\" his name in\nconfirmation, so strictly did he endeavor to preserve his incognito,\nand trust to the intrinsic merits of his contributions for their\nacceptance. Though he wrote to his mother that by reason of his new\nemployment he was enabled to pay off all the debts he owed at the\nclose of the year 1825, his varied productions could not have been\nvery remunerative, certainly not in proportion to the labor expended\non them; for we find him during the next session of Parliament\nengaged as a reporter in the House of Commons.\n\nThe vehemence with which he seized hold of this opportunity, and\nthe ardor with which he pursued his new calling as reporter and\njournalist, show that he felt he had at last discovered a clue that\nwould lead him out of the labyrinth of his difficulties, and his\nsuccess fully justified the confidence in his own powers which had\nnever forsaken him. Opportunity, so much desired by all young men of\nability, which comes to some unsought, and as persistently flies the\napproach of others, had at length presented itself to Gerald Griffin,\nand he lost no time in profiting by the occasion. Association with\nauthors whose works he was obliged to examine, criticise, and\nsometimes revise, naturally led him to compare his own capacity for\nproduction with theirs, and to arrive at the conclusion that he also\nwas able to produce works of prose fiction equally meritorious,\nand as worthy the commendation of moralists as epic poetry or the\ndrama. Satisfied on this point, he at once relinquished his dramatic\naspirations, and prepared himself with all the enthusiasm of his\nnature to enter the lists as a novelist. In his \"small room in some\nobscure court, near St. Paul's,\" he called up the recollections of\npast days, of the lovely Shannon, the mountain ranges of Clare, the\nwakes, fairs, and festivals of the Munster peasantry, the humor,\nshrewdness, pathos, and frolic he as a child had witnessed, and\nperhaps to some extent shared, and he resolved to essay an Irish\nnovel illustrative of these familiar scenes. Having first tried short\nstories for the literary weeklies, and found them eagerly read and\nhighly appreciated, he commenced a series of tales to be published\nin book form, which he designed to call _Anecdotes of Munster_, but\nwhich were afterward known under the general title of _Holland-Tide_.\n\nPending the appearance of this his first continued effort, his labors\nwere as varied and as unremitting as ever--correcting for the press\nthe lucubrations of unskilled writers, reviewing in the weekly papers\nthe various books that the metropolitan publishers were constantly\ninflicting on the public, writing theatrical criticisms, sketches,\npoetry, and political articles--doing any thing and every thing, in\nfact, no matter how foreign to his tastes, as long as they honorably\nsecured him present competency and a reasonable prospect of finally\naccomplishing his grand purpose. At one time he describes himself\nas busy revising a ponderous dictionary; at another, collecting\nmaterials for a pamphlet on Catholic emancipation. Now he is promised\n\u00a350 for a piece for the English opera, and again he acknowledges the\nreceipt of several pounds for reports furnished a Catholic newspaper\nrecently started. His leisure moments, if he can be said to have had\nany, were devoted to versification, while his parliamentary duties\nkept him out of bed till three, and sometimes five o'clock in the\nmorning. His brother William, who visited him in London in 1826, thus\ndescribes his altered appearance and his methodical manner of life:\n\n    \"I had not seen him since he left Adare, and was struck with\n    the change in his appearance. All color had left his cheek,\n    he had grown very thin, and there was a sedate expression of\n    countenance unusual in one so young, and which in after years\n    became habitual to him. It was far from being so, however, at\n    the time I speak of, and readily gave place to that light and\n    lively glance of his dark eye, that cheerfulness of manner and\n    observant humor, which from his very infancy had enlivened\n    our fireside circle at home. Although so pale and thin as I\n    have described him, his tall figure, expressive features,\n    and his profusion of dark hair, thrown back from a fine\n    forehead, gave an impression of a person remarkably handsome\n    and interesting.... He was indefatigable at his work; rose\n    and breakfasted early, set to his desk at once, and continued\n    writing till two or three o'clock in the afternoon; took a turn\n    round the park, which was close to his residence; returned and\n    dined; usually took another walk after dinner, and returning to\n    tea, wrote for the remainder of the evening, after remaining up\n    to a very late hour.\"\n\nThe series of tales, published by Simpkin and Marshall late in\nthis year brought Griffin \u00a370 sterling, and at once established\nhis reputation as a powerful and original writer, and an accurate\ndelineator of Irish peasant character. Its reception by the public\nand the gentlemen of the critical profession was so generally\nfavorable that, feeling assured he had at length entered on the\nright road to distinction, and that his future was no longer\ndoubtful, Griffin gave up his various engagements with the press,\nand not unwillingly, it is to be presumed, laid down for ever the\nload of literary drudgery which had so long bowed his spirit to the\nearth. His fortitude had been severely tested, not by one great\ncalamity, but by a series of trials, harder to be borne, and had\nremained unshaken; his constancy of purpose had been proof against\nall allurements to swerve from the honorable pursuit of letters; and\nit is not too much to affirm, on the authority of many who knew him\nintimately, that his moral character remained unsullied amid all the\ntemptations which usually beset a young man of his isolated condition\nin every large city. His first success was naturally followed by a\ndesire to revisit his home, a wish in which he had long secretly\nindulged, but which was now strengthened by intelligence of the\ndangerous illness of a favorite sister. He arrived at Pallas Kenry,\nhis brother's residence, in February, 1827, but unfortunately a few\nhours after the death of this young lady, an event which, coupled\nwith his feeble health, destroyed for a time the pleasure which\nhe had anticipated from a trip to Ireland, and the renewal of his\nacquaintance with those peaceful scenes the remembrance of which had\nso cheered his absence.\n\n    \"I started for Limerick at a very early hour to meet him,\" says\n    his brother, \"and I cannot forget how much I was struck by the\n    change his London life had made in his appearance. His features\n    looked so thin and pale, and his cheeks so flattened, and, as\n    it were, bloodless, that the contrast with what I remembered\n    was horrid; while his voice was feeble, and slightly raised\n    in its pitch, like that of one recovering from a lingering\n    illness. It was affecting, in these circumstances, to observe\n    the sudden and brilliant light that kindled in his eyes on\n    first seeing me, and the smile of welcome that played over his\n    features and showed the spirit within unchanged.\"\n\nThe unremitting attention of his relatives, however, at length\nassuaged his mental grief and bodily sufferings, and his mind,\nnaturally resigned, gradually resumed its wonted tranquillity. He\nspent the summer months at Pallas Kenry in the undisturbed enjoyment\nof home, but still industriously occupied with his pen.\n\n    \"When engaged in composition, (says his biographer,) he made\n    use of a manifold writer, with a style and carbonic paper,\n    which gave him two and sometimes three copies of his work.\n    One of these he sent to the publisher, the others he kept by\n    him, in case the first should be lost. He had his sheets so\n    cut out and arranged that they were not greater in size than\n    the leaf of a moderate-sized octavo, and he wrote so minute a\n    hand that each page of the manuscript contained enough matter\n    for a page of print. This enabled him very easily to tell how\n    much manuscript was necessary to fill three volumes. His usual\n    quantity of writing was about ten pages of these in the day.\n    It was seldom less than this, and I have known it repeatedly\n    as high as fifteen or twenty, without interfering with those\n    hours which he chose to devote to recreation. He never rewrote\n    his manuscript, and one of the most remarkable things I noticed\n    in the progress of his work was the extremely small number\n    of erasures or interlineations in it, several pages being\n    completed without the occurrence of a single one.\"\n\nThe result of this diligent application was the first series of\n_Tales of the Munster Festivals_, embracing _The Half-Sir_, _The Card\nDrawers_, and _The Shuil Dhuv_, with which he proceeded to London,\nand which he disposed of to his publishers for \u00a3250, a price that\nwould now be considered totally inadequate, but which forty years\nago was looked upon as ample remuneration for that species of labor.\nThe work, though decidedly superior to _Holland-Tide_, was much less\nfavorably received by the critics, and Griffin had now to pay the\npenalty of success by having the children of his brain held up to\npublic censure, as not being formed true to nature, or as acting\nin a manner contrary to the canons of London society. Though such\nstrictures generally emanated from persons who either would not or\ncould not understand the peculiarities of the people of Ireland,\nhe felt keenly alive to their praise or censure, particularly the\nlatter; nor does he seem to have exhibited that callousness which\nhis long acquaintance with the press, and the class of men who are\nsometimes permitted to sit in judgment on their superiors, might have\ntaught him.\n\nHaving remained long enough in London to superintend the publication\nof the tales, he gladly returned to Pallas Kenry, where he spent\nnearly a year in the undisturbed society of his relatives and a few\nfriends living in his neighborhood. These latter must have been few\nindeed, for he is described as still of a very shy and reserved\ndisposition, except when among intimate friends; and though shown\nevery mark of esteem and hospitality by his countrymen, he had\nso great an abhorrence of being lionized that he seldom accepted\ninvitations, save such as could not in ordinary politeness be\nrejected. Not that his temper was soured or that his conversational\npowers were deficient, but home was to him the centre and only object\nof attraction. \"Would you wish to view at a distance our domestic\ncircle?\" asks his sister in one of her letters to America. \"William\nand I are generally first at the breakfast table, when, after a\nlittle time, walks in Miss H----; next Mr. Gerald, and, last of all,\nMonsieur D----. After breakfast our two doctors go to their patients;\nGerald takes his desk by the fire-place and writes away, except when\nhe chooses to throw a pinch or a pull at the ringlets, cape, or\nfrill of the first lady next to him, or gives us a stave of some old\nballad.\"\n\nUnder such sweet influences, so different from his wretched life\nin London, the greater part of his best work, _The Collegians_,\nwas written. Two or three subjects for a successor to _Shuil Dhuv_\nhad been selected and partly developed; but having the fear of the\ncritics before his eyes, he laid them aside unfinished. The spring\nand summer of 1828 thus passed away fruitlessly; but at length a\ntheme presented itself that satisfied his judgment, and he set\nabout writing on it with all possible expedition. _The Collegians_\nwas originally published in three volumes, one and a half of which\nGriffin brought with him to London in November. The remaining portion\nwas written in that city in such hot haste that he was obliged\nfrequently to deliver his sheets of manuscript without having time\nto reread or revise them. This work, on its first appearance, was\nreceived with the greatest favor; it placed the author at once at\nthe head of the novelists of his own country, and gave him a high\nrank among the writers of the English language--a verdict which the\nexperience of posterity has fully confirmed.\n\nOf the writers of that day Griffin's favorite, as might be expected,\nwas Sir Walter Scott. He had a profound respect for the historical\nromances of that great man, and, with an ambition honorable to his\npatriotism, he resolved to abandon for a time the portraiture of\nlocal and modern life, and attempt to do for his native country what\nthe author of _Ivanhoe_ had so admirably done for Great Britain.\nAccordingly, in the spring of 1829, he removed to Dublin, where he\nspent several months in the study of ancient history and in visiting\non foot several parts of Ireland, the topography of which he designed\nto introduce into his new work. The fruit of his antiquarian labors\nwas _The Invasion_, which appeared during the winter of the same\nyear, a short time after the publication of a second series of\n_Munster Festivals_. But though it had an extensive sale and was\nhighly praised by the more learned, it did not, from the very nature\nof the subject and the remote epoch treated, establish itself in the\naffections of the public so generally as his previous and subsequent\nwritings. While in the Irish capital, he was introduced to Sir\nPhilip Crampton and other distinguished scholars, from all of whom\nhe experienced the most flattering attention. His fame, indeed, had\npreceded him among all classes of his countrymen, and their warm and\ndiscriminating encomiums, diffident as he was to a fault, must have\nfallen pleasantly on his ear, and not the less so when they were\nexpressed in the mellifluous accents he was accustomed to hear from\nhis infancy. A closer intimacy with the congenial spirits of his own\ncountry appears to have worn off a great deal of his natural reserve;\nfor we now find him mentioning that he had met Miss Edgeworth, and\nwas anticipating the pleasure of an introduction to Lady Morgan and\nother contemporary celebrities. In the latter part of this year he\nalso formed the acquaintance of a lady residing in the south of\nIreland, which soon ripened into a lasting friendship, founded upon\nsimilarity of tastes and mutual esteem. The name of the lady is not\ngiven in his life, and we know her only as the recipient of several\npleasant gossiping letters, addressed to her by the initial \"L.,\" and\nby the many beautiful poems dedicated in her honor. A married lady,\nthe mother of a numerous family, and Griffin's senior by several\nyears, she exercised a wholesome and judicious influence over a mind\nnaturally sympathetic but peculiarly sensitive, such as none of his\nown sex could or would have attempted. In company with her husband\nand relatives he made a prolonged visit to Killarney, the romantic\nbeauty of whose lakes filled him with the most intense delight.\n\nIn the winter of 1829, he was again in London, which city he was\nobliged to visit each succeeding year till 1835, to attend to his\nsubsequent works; _The Christian Physiologist_, _The Rivals_,\n_The Duke of Monmouth_, and _Tales of My Neighborhood_, appearing\nin nearly regular annual succession. The intervening time was\ngenerally spent in acquiring material for these works, or at the\nwatering-places enjoying his well-earned repose. It was on the\noccasion of one of those flying trips across the channel, in 1832,\nthat, being requested by the electors of Limerick to present, on\ntheir behalf, a request to Moore that he would consent to represent\nthem in Parliament, Griffin deviated from his route and called on\nthat celebrated poet at Sloperton Cottage. In a playful account of\nthis ever-memorable interview, addressed to his friend \"L.,\" he says:\n\"O dear L----! I saw the poet, and I spoke to him, and he spoke to\nme, and it was not to bid me to 'get out of his way,' as the king\nof France did to the man who boasted that his majesty had spoken to\nhim; but it was to shake hands with me, and to ask me, 'How I did,\nMr. Griffin,' and to speak of 'my fame.' _My_ fame! Tom Moore talk\nof my fame! Ah the rogue! He was humbugging, L----, I'm afraid. He\nknew the soft side of an author's heart, and perhaps had pity on my\nlong, melancholy-looking figure, and said to himself, 'I will make\nthis poor fellow feel pleasant, if I can;' for which, with all his\nroguery, who could help liking him and being grateful to him?\"\n\nIn 1838, he projected a tour on the continent; but was induced to\nchange his purpose for a shorter one in Scotland, from which he\nderived not only great pleasure, but restored health. His diary of\nthe trip, originally taken in short-hand notes, has been published,\nand abounds in good-natured criticisms on the manners and customs of\nthe people he met on his journey, and some very fine descriptions of\nthe scenery of the Highlands, which fell under his observation.\n\nGerald Griffin's last novel, as we have intimated, appeared in 1835,\nwhen only in the thirty-second year of his age. He had succeeded\nin the fullest sense as a novelist, in giving to the world in half\na score of years some of the healthiest and most fascinating books\nin our language; had won the applause of the gifted and good alike,\nand, in a pecuniary point of view, had secured himself against all\nprobability of dependence. Still, in a certain sense, he was not\ncontent. The pursuit of fame, as he had on more than one occasion\npredicted, had alone given him pleasure--its acquisition brought\nhim no permanent satisfaction. Whether in abandoning the drama he\nhad departed from his true path, or that his early insight into\nthe mysteries of authorship had led him to underrate the labors\nof those whom the world is allowed to know only at a distance, or\nthat his mind, naturally of a serious and religious turn, now fully\ndeveloped, instinctively arrived at the conviction that only in the\nperformance of those duties and sacrifices imposed on the ministers\nof the Gospel could be found his real sphere of action, or whether\nall these causes acted upon him with more or less force, certain it\nis that he now began to contemplate a radical change in his life. We\nknow that he relinquished writing for the stage with reluctance, and\nthat as early as 1828 he commenced the study of law at the London\nUniversity; but it was not for two or three years afterward that his\nfriends noticed his growing inclination for the life of a religious.\nFrom that time his poems, those beautiful scintillations of his soul,\nbegan to exhibit a higher fancy and a purer moral power than could\nbe drawn even from patriotism, or the contemplation of mere natural\nobjects. His conversation assumed a graver tone, and his letters to\nhis friends, formerly so pleasantly filled with gossip and scraps of\ncomment on the persons and literature of the day, were mainly taken\nup with graver topics.\n\nThis change, we are satisfied, was the effect of grave and due\ndeliberation, and not the result of caprice or disappointed ambition.\nIt had been remarked that his letters to the different members of\nhis family during his residence in London, while filled with minute\ndetails of his literary labors, fears, and aspirations, seldom\ntouched on religious matters, and hence it has been inferred that\nduring his sojourn there he had neglected the practical duties of the\nfaith of his boyhood; but this supposition is altogether gratuitous.\nIn familiar intercourse with men of his own age and pursuits, he may\nhave given expression to crude or speculative opinions without that\nproper degree of reverence which older minds exercise in dealing with\nsuch important questions; but we have the assurance of his nearest\nrelatives and of those few who enjoyed his friendship that this\nweakness was seldom indulged in. However, Griffin in a spirit of\nself-condemnation, which we cannot help thinking disproportionate to\nthe supposed offence, inaugurated his new mode of life by endeavoring\nto remove from the minds of his former associates any wrong\nimpressions such conversations might have produced. In an admirable\nletter written to a literary friend in London, under date January\n13th, 1830, he says:\n\n    \"Since our acquaintance has recommenced this winter, I have\n    observed, with frequent pain, that not much (if the slightest)\n    change has taken place in your opinions on the only important\n    subject on earth. Within the last few weeks, I have been\n    thinking a great deal upon this subject, and my conscience\n    reproaches me that you may have found in the worldliness of\n    my own conduct and conversation reason to suppose that my\n    religious convictions had not taken that deep hold of my\n    heart and mind which they really have. I will tell you what\n    has convinced me of this. I have compared our interviews this\n    winter with the conversations we used to hold together, when my\n    opinions were unsettled and my principles (if they deserved the\n    name) detestable, and though these may be somewhat more decent\n    at present, I am uneasy at the thought that the whole tenor of\n    my conduct, such as it has appeared to you, was far from that\n    of one who lived purely and truly for heaven and for religion.\"\n\nWith a short visit to Paris and his tour in Scotland, Griffin\npractically bade adieu to the outside world, and, retiring to Pallas\nKenry, prepared himself for admission into the order of the Christian\nBrothers. We learn from one of his letters to friends in America that\nhe had at first designed to offer himself as a candidate for the holy\nministry, and had even commenced a preparatory course of theological\nstudy; but distrust of his vocation for a calling requiring so\nmany qualifications led him to select the more quiet but highly\nmeritorious sphere of a humble teacher of little children.\n\n    \"I had long since relinquished the idea,\" he writes, \"which I\n    ought never to have entertained, of assuming the duties of the\n    priesthood; and I assure you that it is one of the attractions\n    of the order into which I have entered, that its subjects\n    are prohibited (by the brief issued from Rome in approval\n    and confirmation of the institute) from ever aspiring to the\n    priesthood.\"\n\nHaving destroyed all his unpublished manuscripts, including _Matt\nHyland_, a ballad of considerable merit of which only a fragment\nremains, and taken affectionate leave of his friends, the author of\n_Gisippus_ and _The Collegians_, in the prime of his manhood and the\nfulness of his fame, left his home for ever, entered as a postulant\nthe institute of the Brothers of the Christian Schools in Dublin,\nSeptember 8th, 1838, and on the 15th of the following month, the\nfeast of St. Teresa, was admitted to the religious habit.\n\n    \"I have,\" he writes, \"entered this house, at the gracious call\n    of God, to die to the world and to live to him; all is to be\n    changed; all my own pursuits henceforward to be laid aside, and\n    those only embraced which he points out to me.\"\n\nGerald Griffin, or, as we must henceforth know him, Brother Joseph,\nentered on the performance of his new duties with his characteristic\nardor and in a spirit of unostentatious obedience, which elicited the\nadmiration of the community to a greater extent than the display of\nmere intellectual accomplishments could have done. \"Nothing,\" said\nthe superior general of the order, \"could exceed the earnestness with\nwhich he discharged every duty; nothing was done by halves; nothing\nimperfectly; he seemed as if he had nothing else to do but that which\nhe was doing.\" The following extract from a letter written soon after\nhis removal to the North Cork monastery, the succeeding year, while\nit shows a touch of his old playful style, illustrates also that\ncheerfulness of spirit which so pre\u00ebminently marks the character of\nthe members of all the religious orders of the church, the result of\nthe consciousness of useful labor well done:\n\n    \"I was ordered off here from Dublin last June, and have been\n    since enlightening the craniums of the wondering Paddies\n    in this quarter, who learn from me with profound amazement\n    and profit that o x spells ox; that the top of the map is\n    the north, and the bottom is the south, with various other\n    branches; as also that they ought to be good boys, and do as\n    they are bid, and say their prayers every morning and evening,\n    etc.; and yet it seems curious, even to myself, that I feel a\n    great deal happier in the practice of this daily routine than\n    I did while I was roving about your great city, absorbed in the\n    modest project of rivalling Shakespeare and throwing Scott into\n    the shade.\"\n\nFrom this time till his death, which took place a year after his\nremoval from Dublin, Brother Joseph remained in the North Cork\nmonastery, his time divided between teaching the children of the\npoor and in that inner preparation for the end so unexpectedly near\nat hand, and to which he no longer looked forward, as he once had\ndone, with apprehension. Until a very short time before his demise,\nhe was in excellent health, and his conduct was marked by that\nserenity of manner and cheerfulness of speech which showed that the\ntempest-tossed spirit had at length found a haven of refuge. He\nvisited his home but once, and then for a brief period, returning\nwithout pain or regret to his prayers and studies, among the latter\nof which was the compilation of a series of pious tales, intended for\nthe use of the Brothers' schools, but which were never completed. His\ndeath, the result of typhus fever which set in on the 31st of May,\nand terminated fatally twelve days after, is thus simply but tenderly\ndescribed by the director of novices, who was one of the witnesses of\nthe edifying scene:\n\n    \"On the morning of the day when his last illness took an\n    unfavorable turn, he called the person in attendance on him to\n    his bedside, and quietly told him 'he thought he should die of\n    this sickness, and that he wished to receive extreme unction.'\n    His confessor, by a merciful dispensation of providence, was\n    then in the house, and expressed his opinion that, as a matter\n    of precaution, it was best to administer it. He repaired to\n    his bedside, presented him the holy viaticum, and administered\n    extreme unction. He received them with the most lively\n    sentiments of love and resignation, as well as the utmost\n    fervor and devotion. During his illness, not a murmur or sigh\n    of impatience escaped him; not a sentiment but breathed love,\n    confidence, and resignation; not a desire but for the perfect\n    accomplishment of the will of Him to whom his habits of prayer\n    had so long and closely united him.\"\n\nThus lived and died one whom it would be faint praise to call one\nof the brightest and purest ornaments which this century has given\nto English literature. The various creations of his fancy will long\nhold a high place in the hearts of all who admire the beautiful\nand revere the good; but the moral of his own life is the noblest\nheritage he has left us. True to the instincts of his Catholic birth\nand training, he passed through the temptations of sorrow, poverty,\nand vanities of a great city for years, preserving his faith unshaken\nand his morals unsullied; with courage and tenacity of purpose, the\nattributes of true heroism, he surmounted obstacle after obstacle,\nwhich might easily have daunted older and stronger men, till he\nreached a proud position in the literature of his country; and when\nsurrounded by all that is supposed to make life valuable--personal\nindependence, devoted friends, and worldly applause--he gently\nand after mature self-examination took off his laurels, laid them\nmodestly on the altar of religion, and, clothed in the humble garb of\na Christian Brother, prepared to devote his life to unostentatious\ncharity. Even his very name, that he once fondly hoped to write\non the enduring tablets of history, he no longer desired to be\nremembered; for on the plain stone that marks his last resting-place\nin the little graveyard of the monastery is engraved simply the words,\n\n    BROTHER JOSEPH. DIED JUNE 12, 1840.\n\n\n\n\nTHE UNFINISHED PRAYER.\n\n\n    \"Now I lay me\"--say it, darling;\n      \"Lay me,\" lisped the tiny lips\n    Of my daughter, kneeling, bending,\n      O'er her folded finger-tips.\n\n    \"Down to sleep\"--\"to sleep,\" she murmured,\n      And the curly head dropped low;\n    \"I pray the Lord,\" I gently added,\n      \"You can say it all, I know.\"\n\n    \"Pray the Lord\"--the words came faintly.\n      Fainter still, \"my soul to keep;\"\n    Then the tired head fairly nodded,\n      And the child was fast asleep.\n\n    But the dewy eyes half-opened\n      When I clasped her to my breast;\n    And the dear voice softly whispered,\n      \"Mamma, God knows all the rest.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE FIRST \u0152CUMENICAL COUNCIL OF THE VATICAN.\n\nNUMBER FIVE.\n\n\nFor another month the Vatican Council has pursued the path originally\nmarked out for its labors with a calmness and steady perseverance\nwhich no outside influences can disturb. In the beginning of its\nsessions sensational correspondents described what they saw and what\nthey did not see--praised, mocked, or maligned as their humors led\nthem or as their patrons desired, and poured forth abundant streams\nof amusing anecdotes, acute guesses, and positive assurances. The\ncorrespondence of one week was found to contradict that of the\npreceding week, and was itself contradicted the week following.\nNow, though wit, and drollery, and sarcasm may please for a time,\nhuman nature, after all, desires truth. And as men saw these\ncontradictions, they came to understand how thoroughly untrustworthy\nwere these correspondents; and the writers, ever on the alert to\ncatch the first symptoms of popular feeling, have, in great part,\ndropped the subject. The only influence which such writings as these\nhave had on the prelates of the council was to supply them with\nabundant topics for amusement in their hours of relaxation.\n\nAnother class of writers have all along treated, and still continue\nto treat, of the council and its action with earnestness of purpose,\nand are making strenuous efforts to guide and control or to check\nits course on subjects which they believe to have come or which may\ncome up before it. We speak of those who are moved by religious or\npolitical feelings. Day after day and week after week, Italian,\nFrench, German, and English newspapers are taking one side or the\nother on these subjects, and write on them, if they do not always\ndiscuss them. At times you may find an article learned, well\nwritten, replete with thought, and suggestive, perhaps instructive.\nBut generally the articles are only such as may be looked for in a\nnewspaper--superficial and with an affectation of smartness. However\ntheir brilliancy, ofttimes only tinsel, may please their world of\nreaders, among the bishops in the council they have, and can have, no\nweight whatever. It would, indeed, be surprising if they had.\n\nBeyond the papers, there come pamphlets, many of them ably and\nlearnedly written. It is to be lamented that too often the writers\nhave allowed themselves to be carried away by excitement, and to use\nlanguage which calls for censure. Still, they profess to discuss the\nquestions gravely, and to present the strongest arguments in favor\nof their respective sides. We will not say that such writings are\nnot privately read and maturely weighed by the fathers, and in fact\ncarefully studied, so far as they may throw light on subjects of\ndoctrine or discipline to be examined. But they certainly have not\nhad the power to accelerate or retard, by a single day, the regular\ncourse of business before the council.\n\nSome weeks ago, the papers of Europe were filled with articles\nannouncing the approaching action of several governments, and the\nmeasures they would take to influence the pope and the bishops, so as\nto control their action by the apprehension of possible political\nresults. What precise amount of truth and what amount of exaggeration\nthere was in the vast mass of excited utterances on this subject,\nwe are not yet able to say. Perhaps it may hereafter be discovered\nin sundry green books, red books, and yellow books. This much is\ncertain: the council was not even flurried by it. We are assured\nthat in all the debates not the slightest reference was ever made\nto the matter. As we write the whole subject seems to be passing\ninto oblivion. Even those who spoke most positively only a few weeks\nago, seem to have forgotten their assertions about the intended\ninterference of this, that, or the other government.\n\nThere is a majesty in this calm attitude of the sovereign pontiff,\nand of the council, which does not fail to command the respect\neven of worldlings and unbelievers. They can with difficulty, if\nat all, comprehend the great truth on which it is based and which\nproduces it. The Catholic would scarcely look for any other attitude\nfrom our prelates. The bishops of the Catholic Church, assembled\nin council, are not politicians or servants of the world, seeking\npopularity or fearing the loss of it. They fear not those who can\nslay only the body, but Him who can slay both body and soul. They\nare assembled, in the name of Christ our Lord, to do the work to\nwhich he appointed them. They must proclaim his doctrines and his\nprecepts; they must promote the extension of his kingdom, and must\nzealously and unceasingly seek the welfare and salvation of souls for\nwhom he shed his blood on Calvary. They are men, and, as subjects\nor citizens, they are bound to give, and each in his own home\ndoes give, unto C\u00e6sar all that is C\u00e6sar's. But they are Christian\nbishops, and they must not fail to give, and to instruct and call\non all men to give, unto God the things that are God's. Assembled in\nthe Holy Ghost, they do not seek to discover what is popular--what\nmay be pleasing or what contrary to the opinions, or prejudices, or\npassions of to-day, whether in the fulsome self-adulation, because\nof our vaunted progress, or in the intrigues and plans of worldly\npolitics and national ambitions. They stand far above all this folly,\nand are not plunged into this chaos. They have to set forth clearly\nthe one divine truth of revelation, which has been handed down from\nthe beginning, and which they see now so frequently impugned and\ncontroverted, or set aside and forgotten. It is precisely because the\nworld is setting it aside, that this council has met and will speak.\n\nOur divine Saviour himself declared that the world would oppose the\nteachers of his truth as it had opposed him. The history of the\neighteen hundred years of her existence is, for the church, but a\ncontinuous verification of that prophecy. The fathers of the Vatican\nCouncil cannot lose sight of the lesson thus given. It should purify\ntheir hearts and strengthen their souls. For they, of all men, must\nbelieve most truly and earnestly in the truth and the reality of\nChristianity and the greatness of the work in which they are engaged.\nHence, when the murmurs or the clamors of the opposition of the world\ncome to their ears, they are not filled with fear or with surprise.\nOf all miracles, they would look on this as the greatest, that, as\nthe Vatican Council speaks, the passions and earthly interests and\nprejudices of men should at once die out or grow mute, and that no\nvoice should be heard in opposition, no arm be raised to arrest or\nthwart, if it could, the work of God. This they do not look for.\nOpposition must come, and they must not fear it, nor shrink from\nencountering it while at their post of duty. As they become conscious\nof its approach, they can but gird themselves the more energetically\nto their work, and seek the guidance and strength of which they have\nneed from on high.\n\nWhen we closed our last article, the prelates of the council were\nbusily engaged, in accordance with the new by-laws, in writing out\ntheir observations and criticisms on several draughts that had\nbeen put into their hands. This work, so far as then required, was\nfinished on March 25th. But on the 18th, the meetings of the general\ncongregations, or committees of the whole, were resumed, and have\nbeen held since then on the 22d, 23d, 24th, 26th, 28th, 29th, 30th,\nand 31st of March, and April 1st, 4th, 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, 12th, and\n19th.\n\nThe business of the council has entered on a new stage. Our readers\nwill remember that early in December last the first draught or schema\non matters of faith was placed in the hands of the bishops; and that\nafter some weeks of private study it was taken up for discussion in\nthe general congregation held on the 28th of December. In our second\narticle we gave some account of the character of this discussion,\nin which no less than thirty-five of the prelates took part. At its\nconclusion the draught was referred for emendations to the special\ncommittee or deputation on matters of faith, to which were also sent\nfull reports of all the discourses in the discussion. This committee\nheld many meetings, and went over the whole matter two or three times\nwith the utmost care, hearing the authors of the draught and weighing\nthe arguments and observations made in the general congregations.\nThey divided the schema or draught into two parts, and now reported\nback the first part amended, containing an introduction and four\nchapters, with canons annexed.\n\nThis new and revised draught or schema, so presented to the\nbishops--in print, of course, as are all the conciliar documents--was\nagain to be submitted to a renewed discussion and examination, first\nin general on its plan as a whole, and then by parts, first on the\nintroduction, and then successively on each of the four chapters\nwhich composed it. A member of the deputation or committee on faith\nopened the discussion by speaking as the organ of the committee, and\nexplaining and upholding what they had done. Many other fathers took\npart in the lively discussions which followed. The speeches were very\nbrief and to the point, only one of them exceeding half an hour,\nand several not lasting more than five minutes. Those who wished to\nspeak sent in their names beforehand to the presiding cardinals, as\non former occasions, and were called to the pulpit in their regular\norder. The spokesman of the committee, or, in fact, any other member,\nmight, during the course of the debate, take the pulpit to give\nsome desired explanation or to reply to a speaker. All who wished\nto propose further amendments or changes were required to hand them\nin in writing. This the speakers generally did at the conclusion\nof their discourses. When at length the discussion on any special\npart--for example, on the introduction--was terminated, that portion\nof the schema and all the proposed amendments were referred again to\nthe committee. The amendments were printed, and a few days after,\nin a general congregation, the whole matter would come up for a\nvote. The committee announced which of the amendments they accepted.\nThey stated briefly the reasons for which they were unwilling to\naccept the others. The fathers then voted on each amendment singly,\nunless, indeed, as sometimes happened, the author, satisfied with the\nexplanation or replies given, asked leave to withdraw it.\n\nThis chapter or portion of schema, or draught, was then again\nprinted, introducing into it the amendments that had been thus\nadopted; and it was again submitted as a whole to the vote of the\nfathers.\n\nAll these votes were taken without unnecessary expenditure of time.\nWhen a question was proposed, all in the affirmative were called on\nto rise, and to remain standing until their number was ascertained.\nThey then sat down, and all in the negative were in their turn\nsummoned to rise, and to remain standing until they were counted.\n\nAs there are usually over seven hundred prelates present and voting,\nit is clear that if the numbers on each side are nearly even, there\nmight be some difficulty in settling the vote. But the evil did\nnot occur. It so happened that on every vote the majority was so\npreponderating in numbers that an actual count was not necessary. It\nis said that only on one occasion they were nearly evenly divided.\nThe important question happened to be whether the insertion of a\ncertain comma between two words in the text before them would make\nthe sense more distinct or not. The division of sentiment on so\nsmall a matter caused some amusement; but it was evidence of the\npainstaking care with which even the minutest points are scrutinized\nand cared for.\n\nWhen the introduction and each one of the chapters with its\naccompanying canons had been thus separately passed on, the entire\nschema as a whole was submitted to the fathers for a more solemn and\ndecisive vote. This was done in the general congregations held on\nApril 12th and April 19th. The vote was taken, not, as in deciding on\nthe details, by the act of rising, but by ayes and noes.\n\nThis was first done in the congregation of the 12th, in the following\nmanner: The secretary from the lofty pulpit called the prelates one\nafter the other, according to their ranks and their seniority in\ntheir several ranks, naming each one by his ecclesiastical title.\nThe cardinals presiding were called first, the other cardinals next,\nthen the patriarchs, the primates, the archbishops, the bishops, the\nmitred abbots, and the superiors of the various religious orders\nand congregations having solemn vows. As each prelate was called,\nhe rose in his place, bowed to the assembly, and voted. The form\nwas _Placet_, if he approved entirely; _Placet juxta modum_, if\nthere were any minor point which he was unwilling to approve; or\n_Non placet_, if he disapproved. In the second case, he handed in a\nwritten statement of his opinion and vote on that point, and assigned\nthe reasons which moved him to this special view. The assessors of\nthe council immediately received these manuscripts, and delivered\nthem to the presiding legates. As the name of each one was called,\nif not present, he was marked _absent_; if present and voting, two\nor three of the officials, stationed here and there in the hall,\nrepeated with clear bell-like voices the form of words used by the\nprelate in voting, so that all might hear them, and that no mistake\ncould be committed as to any one's vote. The whole procedure occupied\nabout two hours. When it was over, the votes were counted before all,\nand the result declared. This was in reality the most solemn and\nformal voting of the bishops on the matter so far before them. Each\none's judgment is asked, and he must give it. It was evident the\nbishops voted after mature study, and with an evident singleness and\nsimplicity of heart before God.\n\nThe special matters urged in the written and conditional votes were\nagain, and for the last time, examined by the committee or deputation\non matters of faith, they reported the result of their discussion in\nthe congregation of April 19th, and the precise form of words was\nsettled, to be decreed and published in the third public session,\nwhich will be held on Low-Sunday.\n\nIt thus appears that nothing will be put forth by the council without\nthe fullest study and examination.\n\n1. The _schemata_, or draughts, as presented to the council, are the\nresult of the studies and conferences of able theologians of Rome,\nand of every Catholic country.\n\n2. The _schema_ is subjected to a thorough debate before the general\ncongregation or, committee of the whole, or under the by-laws, it is\nplaced in the hands of each one of the bishops, and every one who\nthinks it proper gives in writing his remarks on it, and proposes his\nemendations.\n\n3. The _schema_, and these remarks and proposed amendments, are\ncarefully considered by the deputation or committee to whom they are\nreferred, whose office it is to prepare for the council a revised\nand amended draught. The twenty-four members of the _deputation_ are\npicked men, and the examination and discussion of the subjects by\nthem has proved to be all that the fathers looked for--most thorough\nand searching.\n\n4. Again, on their revised report, the matter is a second time\nbrought before the general committee, and is again discussed by the\nfathers, who are at liberty still to propose further changes and\namendments. As a matter of fact, these turn mostly on minute details\nand on forms of expression.\n\n5. Again, in the light of those proposed amendments, it is examined\nand discussed by the committee, who make their final report,\naccepting or not accepting the several amendments, and assigning to\nthe congregation the reasons for their decision on each point. They\nthus enjoy the privilege of closing the debate.\n\n6. Then follows the voting. One portion of the _schema_ is taken up.\nThe amendments touching it, so reported on by the committee, are one\nby one either adopted or rejected, and then the whole portion is\npassed on. One after the other the remaining portions are taken up,\nand acted on in the same manner. The amendments are first disposed of\none by one, and then each portion is separately voted on. Finally,\nall the parts as separately adopted are put together, and on the\nwhole _schema_ so composed a more solemn vote is taken by ayes and\nnoes.\n\nThis concludes the, so to speak, consultative action of the council\non that _schema_. It is now ready for a solemn enactment and\npromulgation in the next public session of the council. (This session\nwas held on Low-Sunday.--ED. C. W.)\n\nThe time is approaching when the first portion of the decisions and\ndecrees of the Vatican Council will be given to the world in the\nthird public session, to be held on Low-Sunday. Already enough has\ncome to light, in the better informed presses of Europe, to let us\nknow the general tenor of what we shall soon hear. As it has become\na matter of notoriety, we may speak of the subjects so said to be\ntreated of.\n\nThe state of the world, and the errors and evils to be met and\ncondemned in this nineteenth century by the Vatican Council, are\nvery different from those which all previous councils were assembled\nto resist. The heresies then to be encountered denied this or that\ndoctrine in particular, and erred on one or another point. But\nthey all admitted the existence of God, the reality and truth,\nat least in a general way, of a revelation from heaven through\nChrist our Lord, and the obligation of man to receive it, and to be\nguided by it in belief and practice. Now, the world sees but too\nmany who go far beyond that. Then, so to speak, the outposts were\nassailed. Now the very citadel of revelation is attacked. Schools\nof a falsely called philosophy have arisen which, with a pretended\nshow of reasoning, deny the existence of God, of spiritual beings,\nof the soul of man, and recognize only the existence of physical\nmatter. Or if they speak of God, it is by an abuse of terms, and\nin a pantheistic sense, holding him to be only the totality of all\nexisting things, a personification of universal nature; or else,\nif they wish to be more abstruse or more unintelligible, God is,\naccording to them, the primal being, a vague and indefinite first\nsubstance, by the changes, evolutions, emanations, and modifications\nof which all existing things have come to be as they are. Many are\nthe phases of materialism, pantheism, and theopantism in which German\nmetaphysicians revel, and call it high intellectual culture. The pith\nof all of them is atheism, the denial of the real existence of God.\n\nThe English mind is, or believes itself to be, more practical and\nmatter-of-fact. It does not wander through the dreamy mazes of\nGerman metaphysics. It has no taste for such excursions. But there\nis a school in England which, under the pretence of respecting\nfacts, reaches practically the same sad results. It tells its\ndisciples of what has been termed the philosophy of the unknowable\nand unintelligible, and declares that man, possessed only of such\nlimited powers of knowledge as experience proves us to have, cannot\nconceive, cannot really know, cannot be made to know, any thing of\nGod, the self-existent and absolute, eternal, infinitely wise and\ninfinitely perfect, and that these words are merely conventional\nsounds, in reality meaningless, and conveying no real thought to the\nmind. Hence, he is to be held at once the wisest philosopher and most\nsensible man who discards them altogether, who throws aside all these\nuseless, cloudy, unintelligible subjects, and occupies himself with\nthe immediate and actual world around him, of which alone, through\nhis senses, his experiments, and his experiences, he can obtain\nsome certain and positive knowledge. This they call independence\nand freedom of science. In many minds it would be pure atheism, if\npure atheism were possible; in many others, it has produced and is\nproducing a haziness of doubt, and an uncertainty on all these points\ntouching the existence and the attributes of God, as in practice\nleads to almost the same result.\n\nThe French mind is active, acute, sketchy, imaginative, logical,\nand practical. On a minimum quantity of facts or principles it will\nconstruct a vast theory. If facts are too few to support the theory,\nimagination can readily supply all that are lacking. The theory,\nif logically consistent, must be reduced to practice; opponents\nmust stand aside or be crushed down. The theory must rule. From the\ndays of Voltaire, if not before, France has seen men deny religion\nunder the guise of teaching philosophy. The sarcasms, and at times\nthe brilliancy of their writings, have made French authors the\nstore-house from which infidels in other nations draw their weapons.\nIt was in France that a national decree enacted that there is\nno God, and it is in France and in Belgium that the societies of\nso-called _Solidaires_ exist, the members of which solemnly bind\nthemselves to each other to live and die, and be buried, without any\nact of religion. Too full of confidence in their powers of mind to\naccept the English system, and to acknowledge there is any subject\nthey cannot master; too impressionable and practical to live in the\ncloud of German metaphysical pantheism, the French _philosophers_\nare prone to deify man, instead of universal nature. Whether they\nfollow Comte in his earlier theories, or Comte in the very different\ntheories of his old age, or whether they devise some other theory,\nit is generally man they place on the throne of the Deity. This\nworship of man, this spirit of humanitarianism, and this belief in\nthe progressive and indefinite perfectibility of mankind, which they\nhold apart from and in antagonism to the belief which worships God as\nthe Creator and Sovereign Lord, and places man the creature subject\nto him, runs practically through many a phase of their character in\nmodern times.\n\nThese three systems--of course more or less commingled in their\nsources--have been extended to every portion of the civilized world.\nThe German system has passed into Denmark, Holland, and Sweden;\nthe French into Italy, Spain, and Portugal, and in some measure\nthrough them into Southern America. In the United States, we have\nbeen comparatively free from them. We owe it, probably, to the fact\nthat with us all men are so busy trying to amass fortunes that they\nhave little time and less taste for such abstruse speculations.\nTrue, through the vast German immigration, we have received some\nportion of the German system. But so far it has scarcely spread\namong our citizens of other nationalities. The English system,\nstrange to say, scarcely exists except in its vaguer influences. The\nFrench system, introduced years ago, has struck deeper roots, and\nhas a wider influence. But, on the whole, the mass of our people\nhas a firm unshaken belief in the real truth of Christianity as a\nrevealed religion. Although very often men are exceedingly puzzled\nto know what are the specific doctrines, still they have not lost\nthe traditions of their fathers, and have not fallen into positive\nunbelief. How long these words will remain true, who can tell?\nLuxury and the general demoralization becoming so familiar, and the\nsystematic godless education of our youth, will soon perhaps place\nus in the van of those nations who seem to have been given up to the\nfoolishness of their hearts.\n\nMeanwhile the church knows that she is debtor to all--that her\nmission is to preach the Gospel of Christ to all nations. Seeing in\nwhat manner so many are going astray, so far as even to deny the\nGod that made them and redeemed them, and knowing that he has sent\nher as a messenger from him to them, she raises her voice, and, in\nclear, steady, clarion tones that will ring through the world, she\nproclaims again that he is the one true God, eternal and almighty,\nthe Creator whom all men must know and must serve, and unto whom they\nwill all have to render a strict account. This assembled council is\nitself evidence, clear as the noon-day light, of her existence, and\nher office in the world. Men may not shut their eyes to the fact. Her\nwords are clear: \"He whom ye deny exists, and speaks to you through\nme. He whom ye scoff at is your Creator and Lord, from whom ye have\nreceived all that ye have. He whom ye deride is long-suffering, and\nwills not your death, but that ye repent and come to him. Through\nme he admonishes, he invites, he warns you.\" Will these men hearken\nto her voice, or rather, the voice of God through her? Does not the\nGod they would deny give, as it were, sensible testimony of his\nexistence, his power, and his authority, evidence which they cannot\nignore or overlook save by a wilful and deliberate effort on their\npart? They cannot fail to see the church claiming to be his. Her\nunbroken existence through eighteen centuries and her continued\ngrowth and advance despite opposition, and, still more, despite the\nquiet natural force of all human agency, external and internal,\nwhich under the ordinary laws of human things would have sufficed to\ndisrupt and to destroy her a hundred times, an existence and a growth\nwhich could have proceeded only from a supernatural power, and which\nconstitute a standing miracle in the history of the world, demand\ntheir attention and their respect. Her claim to be divinely founded\nand divinely supported, they must not scout with flippancy. They must\nat least receive it with respect, and examine its grounds. The most\nsolemn assembly of that church, the most imposing assembly the world\nhas looked on, an assembly authorized by the organization which he\ngave to that church, and therefore authorized by him, speaks to them\nin his name and by his authority. Will they receive the message, or\nwill they turn away? Some there are who would not believe, if one\nrose from the dead. But we may hope and pray that others will hearken\nto the words of the Lord, and learn that to know and fear the Lord is\nthe beginning of true wisdom. Above all, we may hope that many who\nhave not yet advanced too far on the dangerous road may become aware\nof their danger and their folly, and return to the paths of true and\nsalutary doctrine.\n\nNext to those who, following the systems we have indicated, or on\nany other grounds pretend to do away with the existence of God, come\nthose who admit his existence, but do not admit that he has given\na revealed religion to mankind. It is unnecessary to go over the\nvarious groups into which they may be divided. There always have\nbeen and will be men who will try by one huge effort to throw off\nthe yoke of religion. And what is there for doing which men will\nnot try to assign some reason? In the last century, and the early\nportion of the present one, men sought such reasons in the alleged\ncontradictions of the Scriptures, in the mysteriousness of Christian\ndoctrine and the inability of the human intellect to comprehend them,\nin the procrustean systems of ancient history which they invented, or\nin alleged defects of the evidences of Christianity, or, finally, in\ntheir pet theories of metaphysics. At present the tendency is to base\nthe rejection of revealed religion on its alleged incompatibility\nwith the discoveries of natural sciences in these modern days.\nGeology, anthropology, in fact, the natural sciences with scarcely\nan exception, have been in turn laid under contribution or forced to\ndo service against the cause of revelation. We have men appealing to\nthis or that principle or fact as an irrefragable evidence by modern\nscience of the false pretensions of Christianity.\n\nTo all such the church, the pillar and ground of truth, the organ\nof Christ our Lord on earth, will speak. It is not her office to\nenter into the detailed discussion of scientific studies, and to\nmake manifest the errors of fact into which these men have fallen,\nor the fallacy of their deductions. This she leaves to scholars\nwho, in their pursuit of earthly knowledge, do not cast away the\nknowledge they have received of divine truth. Such Christian scholars\nhave replied to the sneers, and gibes, and sarcasms of the last\ncentury, and have shown the utter worthlessness and absurdity of\nthe arguments then brought forward against Christianity by men who\nclaimed to speak on the part of science; and there are now others\nanswering with equal fulness the more modern objections. The church\nmight, indeed, have left it to time and the progress of learning\nand science to vindicate her course and to refute the objections\nraised against her teaching. For, as a matter of fact, the grand\ndifficulties brought forward half a century ago excite but a smile\nnow, as we see on what an unsubstantial foundation they rested. And\na very few years to come will, we may be sure, suffice to overturn\nmany a pet theory of to-day, with their vaunted arguments against\nrevelation. New discoveries will lead to new theories, that may or\nmay not give rise to a new crop, a new set of difficulties, for\nman's mind is limited and cannot reach the truth on all sides,\nbut they will consign the present difficulties to the tomb of the\nCapulets. To that tomb generation after generation of these so-called\nscientific objections are passing. The church does not undertake to\nteach astronomy, geology, chemistry, or physics. Natural sciences\nare to be studied by man, in the use of his own reason and the\nexercise of his natural faculties. These things God has left to the\ndisputations of men. The church does not despise these discussions\nand researches. She does not repress them nor oppose them. Quite\nthe contrary. She has ever protected and fostered science. One of\nthe most beautiful and instructive chapters in her earthly history\nwould be that which tells how, from the school of Alexandria, in the\ndays of persecution, down the entire course of ages, she has ever\nsought to promote and foster science. She may with pride point to her\ncanons and laws enacted for this purpose in every century. She may\nrecount the long catalogue of schools, colleges, and universities\nestablished by her in every civilized land of Europe, and wherever\nshe planted her foot; and to the religious houses of her clergy,\nthroughout the stormy middle ages the chief, almost the only safe\nhomes of learning. Many of the universities which she founded have\nin the course of ages been destroyed by kings and nobles, who\nfilled their own purses, or repaired their wasted fortunes, by the\nseizure of endowments given for the free education of all that might\ncome to drink of these fountains of learning; even as this very\nmonth the progressive, liberal government of the kingdom of Italy\nis discussing the propriety of suppressing one half of the older\nuniversities they found existing in the portion of the Papal States,\nand in other parts of Italy, which ten years ago they annexed to the\nkingdom of Sardinia. When did the church ever do such an act? Never.\nWhat university was ever suppressed by any act of hers? None. She\nencourages science. But at the same time she says, \"God has given to\nman reason and understanding to seek after and to attain knowledge.\nIt is a great and noble gift, to be prized and used rightly, and not\nturned to an evil purpose. If a father place in the hands of his son,\nas a gift, a weapon keen and bright, shall that son, with parricidal\nhand turn the blade against his father? Beware not to turn these\ngifts of God against God himself. Use them not as pretexts to deny\nhis existence, or shake off his authority, or to impugn his truth\nwhen he speaks.\"\n\nIn giving this admonition, the church is acting in her full\nright. She is in the certain possession of that higher divine\ntruth which her heavenly Founder has placed in her charge, to be\ncarefully guarded and preserved until the end of time, and to be\never faithfully preached. Who ever denies it, she must oppose\nhim. Whatever teaching would make it out to be false, she must\ncondemn. The church, holding with certainty this divine deposit of\nthe revealed truth, must not be compared, either in theory or in\npractice, with any private individual or society of individuals,\nwho hold and profess religious doctrines on the authority of their\nown reason and judgment, or of their private interpretation of the\nScriptures. In such a case as this, these doctrines are simply\nbeliefs, opinions of men avowedly liable to error in this very\nmatter. They therefore stand on the same level, as to certainty or\nuncertainty of being true, with the other human judgments in the\nfields of natural science or human knowledge which may rise up in\nopposition to them. The two sides are fairly matched, and either may\nultimately prevail.\n\nBut, on the contrary, the church claims not merely to hold opinions,\nbut, under the guiding light of the Holy Ghost, to have certain and\ninfallible knowledge of the truths of divine revelation. Nothing\nthat contradicts these established and known truths can she admit\nto be any thing else than error. In the contest between them, the\ntruth must prevail. This is the theory on which the Catholic Church\nstands, and in which, in reality, all Christianity is involved. The\nexperience of eighteen centuries confirms it fully in practice.\nNever once in all that period has the church of Christ had to revoke\na single doctrinal decision, on the ground that what was believed\nto be true when uttered has since been proved to be false as the\nprogress of science has thrown fuller light on the subject. In the\nearly days of her existence, Celsus and the other philosophers of\nthat classical period raised manifold objections from reason and such\nknowledge of nature as they possessed. Their objections accorded well\nwith the public opinion of the time, and were hailed with applause.\nBut the time came when they were felt to be of no force, and now\nthey are entirely forgotten; and the truth they impugned, and were\nintended to overthrow, stands stronger than ever. The Gnostics, with\ntheir varied and fanciful systems of conciliating the power and\ngoodness of God with the presence of evil in the world, and guided,\nif we listen to their boasts, by the highest light of man's reason,\nbrought forward many objections, then deemed specious. They and their\narguments too have passed away, and the Catholic truth stands. So\nit has been in every age until the present time. One only instance\nin all history has been alleged, seemingly, to the contrary--the\ncondemnation of Galileo for holding and maintaining the Copernican\ntheory. But there is no real ground of objection here. The facts of\nthe case are misunderstood or misstated. The trial of Galileo, which\nwas in truth more of a personal than a doctrinal issue, was simply\nbefore the congregation, or committee, of the Holy Office in Rome,\nand the sentence was by that congregation and not by the church. The\ndifference between the sentence of such a tribunal and a decision of\nthe church is world-wide. And, as if to mark that difference the more\ndistinctly, that sentence, which, according to the usual course, and\nat least as a matter of form, should have been countersigned by the\nreigning pontiff, that it might be put into execution, _never was\nso signed_. Why, in that case, the formality was omitted, whether\nit was not deemed necessary, which, considering the usage, would\nbe very strange, or whether, which we think much more probable, it\nwas in due course of procedure presented to the pontiff for his\nsignature, and he abstained from signing it for reasons in his own\nmind, cannot now be known. But the original official manuscript copy\nof the sentence is extant, and there is no signature of the pontiff\nto it. Even had he signed it, that would not have made the document a\ndoctrinal decision of the church. It would have remained simply the\nregular sentence of a special tribunal; but the absence of the pope's\nsignature, perhaps its studied absence, entirely and unequivocally\nremoves the objection usually brought forward.[139] Here, as in\nevery other case, Christ has protected his church, so that she shall\nmake no false decision as to faith. It is only in virtue of that\nprotection that she claims the paramount authority to speak. Under\nit she had been appointed to speak, and must speak, if she would not\nbe recreant to her duty. She does not repress science; she saves it.\nShe does not shackle reason; she preserves it from error and ruin.\nHow often is the way of science a narrow ridge, with deep gulfs on\neither side! Feeble man walks along the narrow crest with trembling\nlimbs, or crawls on, dubiously and slowly, in the dark. The church\nof Christ cheers him on. She does not bear him over the perilous\npath; but holds aloft the torch of revealed truth to guide him as\nhe advances, and warns him to proceed by its light, and not to rush\nheedlessly on, lest he fall into the abyss. And yet should we not\nexpect that the same spirit of insubordinate pride which leads reason\nto deny the existence of God, or his Divine Providence, or the fact\nof divine revelations, or emboldens feeble, ignorant man to measure,\nas it were, his feeble intelligence against the infinite wisdom of\nGod, should also not refrain from charging the Catholic Church with\nbeing an incubus on the human mind, with narrowing the intellect\nand fettering the reason, with restricting our liberty of thought,\nnarrowing the field of science, and dwarfing the whole intellectual\nman?\n\nBut time does her justice. She can point to Origen, Clement of\nAlexandria, St. Jerome, St. Augustine, St. Thomas of Aquin, St.\nAnselm, Duns Scotus, Suarez, Vasquez, and the mighty minds of the\npast. She may point to her children, clergymen and laymen, now\nstanding in the front ranks of every branch of science. What the past\nages gave, what the present gives too, the future will as surely not\nfail to give.\n\nWe add to the communication of our Roman correspondent the report of\nthe peroration of an eloquent speech by Signor d'Ondes-Reggio, in the\nItalian Parliament, as given by M. Chantrel, in his \"Chronique du\nConcile,\" published in the _Revue du Monde Catholique_ for April 10th.\n\n    \"The Council of the Vatican comes to save the imperilled\n    civilization of the world, as the preceding councils, from the\n    one of Nice to that of Trent, have saved it.\n\n    \"Do you know how the Council of Nice saved the civilization\n    of the world, when it condemned Arius? It prevented the human\n    race from returning to idolatry; for, if the founder of\n    Christianity was not God, but a mere man, the adoration of that\n    man would have been an idolatry like all those of the pagans.\n    The human race would have remained in barbarism, deprived of\n    Christian civilization, of the true civilization, which is the\n    civilization given to men by God himself.\n\n    \"The Council of Trent saved the civilization of the world;\n    because, when the church condemned Luther, Calvin, and their\n    followers, who denied free-will and confounded good with bad\n    actions, even giving the preference to the bad ones, she\n    prevented the human race from returning to the _fate_ of the\n    pagans and to the domination of evil over good. The church\n    saved the civilization of the world.\n\n    \"When a council condemned schisms, it condemned the breaking up\n    of the human race into factions and protected the unity of the\n    race; it condemned that paganism which divided the nations from\n    each other and made them mutual enemies, whereas all men are\n    brothers, as the children of the same God.\n\n    \"When a council roused all Europe to follow the cross into\n    Asia, to rescue the sepulchre of Christ, it saved the\n    civilization of Europe, and guaranteed the civilization of the\n    world against Mussulman barbarism.\n\n    \"When a council condemned the furious iconoclasts, do you know\n    what it did? It prevented the banishment of the beautiful from\n    the world--the beautiful, which is the complement of the true\n    and the good. If this new race of barbarians had not been\n    repelled by the Second Council of Nice, we should not have had\n    either the 'David,' or the 'Moses,' or the 'Transfiguration,'\n    or the 'Assumption.' Italy would not be the queen of the fine\n    arts in the world.\n\n    \"When the councils smote and deposed corrupt C\u00e6sars, the\n    oppressors of their peoples, it was human reason, enlightened\n    by faith, which conquered error, sustained by brute force;\n    it was charity which beat down tyranny, and civilization\n    triumphing over barbarism.\n\n    \"The Council of the Vatican, composed of the venerable fathers\n    of the Catholic Church, extended throughout the whole world,\n    differing in customs, habits, complexion, language, but united\n    in the same faith, the same hope and charity--the Council of\n    the Vatican comes to save, by the bishops, a civilization\n    in peril. Errors the most impious, the most deadly, the\n    most pernicious to the human race, which have been spread\n    abroad during the course of ages, and which have sufficed,\n    taken singly, to turn civil society upside down, are now all\n    assembled together, and united with each other to batter and\n    destroy it. Every thing which is the most true, the most\n    sacred, the most venerated, is attacked; and some persons even\n    go so far as to say that it is lawful to kill, to rob, and\n    to calumniate, in order to attain certain ends. The Council\n    of the Vatican has come, yes, it has come! to condemn these\n    blasphemies and iniquities, to awaken sleeping consciences, to\n    confirm consciences which are wavering; it has come to save\n    civilization in peril.\n\n    \"O venerable fathers! you who have hastened to Rome from the\n    extremities of the world, at the summons of the successor of\n    Peter, and who are at this moment gathered together in the name\n    of God, at the Vatican, all men of good-will have their eyes\n    fixed upon you; and from you they await with confidence the\n    salvation of the world. You, successors of the apostles, will\n    fulfil the commandment given by Jesus Christ to the apostles\n    and to you, to teach the nations the infallible truths;\n    the commandment given, not to kings, emperors, or secular\n    assemblies, but to the apostles and to you--you will teach the\n    nations these infallible truths, and the nations will be saved.\"\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[139] See CATHOLIC WORLD, Nos. 45 and 46.\n\n\n\n\nFOREIGN LITERARY NOTES.\n\n\n_The Gospel in the Law._ A Critical Examination of the Citations\nfrom the Old Testament in the New. By Charles Taylor. Cambridge and\nLondon: Bell & Daldy. 1869. The relative positions of the Mosaic law\nand the new law may be studied from a great many points of view.\nThat chosen by Mr. Taylor, in the volume before us, adds additional\ninterest to his very remarkable work.\n\nThe selection and study of citations from the Old Testament found\nin the New give rise to many questions which, properly elucidated,\nthrow much light on the connection which exists between Judaism and\nChristianity. Mr. Taylor does not so much occupy himself with that\nquestion as with the manner in which the Bible is connected with\nthe Testament. Not that he undertakes to demonstrate that the germ\nof the new law may be found in the Old; for that no one denies, and\nthe title he has selected shows the object of his work, \"the Gospel\nin the law.\" Not every thing in the work is new; but the previously\naccumulated erudition of the subject is admirably _r\u00e9sum\u00e9d_, and\nseveral chapters are marked by originality--the thirteenth, for\ninstance, on Jewish and Christian morality.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_Varieties of Irish History._ From Ancient and Modern Sources and\nOriginal Documents. By James J. Gaskin, Dublin. A handsome volume,\nillustrated with four chromo-lithographs, and an excellent map of the\nenvirons of Dublin. The work appears to be made up of a series of\nlectures delivered at Dalkey, a well-known charming suburb of Dublin,\nand of articles published at various times in the Irish newspapers\nconcerning the history of the principal environs of Dublin--Howth,\nKingston, Dalkey, Bray, and Killing. The beautiful bay of Dublin and\nits picturesque shores, of course, come in for their share of notice,\nand as the author gives himself the amplest verge, he manages, in\nhis numberless digressions, to throw into his pages a reflex of the\nintellectual history of Dublin during the last century.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nOne of the most remarkable and eventful missionary fields of\nthe Catholic Church was, unquestionably, Japan. There are few\nmore admirable pages in its history than those which recount the\nconstancy and faith of its first martyrs under one of the most bloody\npersecutions the world ever saw. M. L\u00e9on Pages has just published a\nwork giving the history of Catholicity in Japan from 1598 to 1651:\n_Histoire de la Religion Chr\u00e9tienne au Japon, depuis 1598 jusqu'\u00e0\n1651, comprenant les faits relatifs aux deux cent cinq martyrs\nbeatifi\u00e9s le 7 Juillet 1867_, par L\u00e9on Pages. This volume, published\nseparately, will form the third volume of a large work in four octavo\nvolumes, to be entitled, _L'Empire du Japon, ses origines, son \u00e9glise\nchr\u00e9tienne, ses relations avec l'Europe_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe so-called _Truce of God_ of the middle ages, under which a\nsuspension of arms and hostilities was so often obtained, has too\nfrequently been so imperfectly understood and treated by historians\nand writers as to be confounded by them with the _Peace of God_--two\nthings essentially different in origin and in application. In 1857,\na work on the subject was published at Paris by M. Ernest Semichon,\nwho by his judicious research threw an entirely new light on this\nquestion. M. Semichon has just presented the literary world with a\nnew edition of the work of 1857, largely augmented in fresh matter\nand in historical documents, in which he clearly establishes the\ndistinction between these two institutions, and fixes the origin\nof the Peace of God at about A.D. 988, and that of the Truce of\nGod at 1027. He follows their development step by step through the\neleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth centuries, examining them from the\njudicial and political stand-points, until the period when Louis\nle Gros took hold of the movement. After this period, the \"Truce of\nGod\" becomes the _Quarantaine le Roi_. In treating his subject, M.\nSemichon presents most interesting views of the great institutions\nof the middle ages, its associations and customs, and also of the\nchevaliers, the arts, and the Crusades. His work is entitled _La Paix\net la Tr\u00e8ve de Dieu_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nUntil within a few years there were known to be in existence but\nthree Biblical manuscripts of high antiquity. These were, _First_,\nthe celebrated Vatican manuscript; _second_, that of London, called\nthe Alexandrine; _third_, that of Paris, known under the designation\nof the Palimpsest of Ephrem the Syrian. The first dates from the\nfourth century, the other two from the fifth. None of them are\ncomplete, however. In that of Paris the greater part of the New\nTestament is wanting. That of London is deficient in nearly the whole\nof the first gospel, two chapters of the fourth, and the greater\npart of the second Epistle of St. Paul to the Corinthians. From the\nVatican manuscript, the oldest of all, are missing four epistles,\nthe last chapters of the Epistle to the Hebrews, and the Apocalypse.\nM. Constantine Tischendorf, a distinguished Russian scholar, known\nin the scientific world for his superior Hellenic and paleographic\nacquirements, has the glory of having given to the Christian world,\nby his discoveries, numerous sacred manuscripts of the highest\nantiquity, and, above all, the famous _Codex Sinaiticus_, which has\nover the three MSS. we have enumerated the great advantage of being\ncomplete. It dates from the same epoch with that of the Vatican. M.\nTischendorf has told the story of its discovery, and of the long\nand difficult negotiations required for its acquisition, in a work\njust published, _Terre Sainte_, an octavo volume of 307 pages. The\nvolume also contains an interesting account of his oriental travel in\ncompany with the Duke Constantine, and his visit to Smyrna, Patmos,\nand Constantinople. A fac-simile edition of the new Codex is in\npreparation in Russia, and a German translation of that portion of it\nwhich contains the New Testament will shortly be made.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nA noteworthy work is _Le Juif, le Judaisme, et Judaisation des\npeuples chr\u00e9tiens_, par M. le Chevalier Gougeuot des Mousseaux.\nParis, 8vo, 568 pp. The career of Judaism is here historically traced\nfrom the early ages of the church, when it spread through Egypt,\nAlexandria, and Rome the Gnostic theories of Simon the Magician,\ndown to the present day. The author presents successively all the\ntraditions upon which the belief of the modern Jew is founded. Their\nBible is the Talmud, a tissue of absurdities and immoralities. There\nexists a gulf between the ancient law of Moses and the Talmudic\nreveries so great, indeed, that the Jew can hardly call his law a\nreligious law without flying in the face of the history and the faith\nof his fathers. Following these researches comes a keen analysis of\nthe Pharisaical spirit. Concerning the synagogue, the Sanhedrim,\nthe Talmudic rites, and system of education, the work gives the\nfullest details, with copious extracts from writers all favorable to\nJudaism, such as Prideaux, Basnage, and Salvador. The result of the\nauthor's revelations is to show that the Jewish belief of to-day is\nabsolutely different from that of which Moses was the legislator.\nModern Jews are divided into three classes--orthodox, reformers, and\nfree-thinkers. The reformers are the Protestants of the Mosaic law.\nNowadays, for the majority of Jews, the coming of the Messiah is no\nlonger understood in its ordinary acceptation. For them the \"desired\nof nations\" is merely an abstraction. The author dwells at some\nlength on the spreading influence of Judaism in worldly matters, and\nsounds a note of alarm that gives his work something of a pessimist\ntone.\n\n\n\n\nNEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n\n    DR. NEWMAN'S ESSAY IN AID OF A GRAMMAR OF ASSENT. By John\n    Henry Newman, D.D., of the Oratory. 1 vol. 12mo. New York: The\n    Catholic Publication Society, 9 Warren street. 1870.\n\nSECOND NOTICE.\n\nWe have not yet given to this book, destined to become so celebrated\nand the theme of so much controversy, the careful examination it\ndeserves, and we will not, therefore, pay the poor compliment to the\nillustrious author of pronouncing a superficial judgment upon it.\nWe have given an analysis of its contents in our last number, which\nmay aid the reader to understand and master its scope and course of\nargument for himself. At present, we will merely take note of one or\ntwo salient points bearing on some questions of lively controversial\ninterest at the present moment. The great subject of controversy in\nregard to the philosophy of the work has already proved to be what\nwe anticipated at the first glance upon its pages--whether it is, or\nis not, in contradiction to the scholastic doctrine of the reality\nof universals. We give merely our impression, and not our judgment\nupon this point, when we say that it appears to us that Dr. Newman\nrather leaves aside the pure metaphysics of the question, than\neither contradicts or affirms any scholastic doctrine of this higher\nsphere of science. He appears to take the common English axioms of\nreasoning as they are assumed in every-day life and made the basis\nof those inductions and illations which make up the opinions of\nintelligent persons on all sorts of subjects, and the conclusions of\npractical, scientific men in regard to the inductive sciences. He\nappeals to the common sense of those who are not sophisticated by any\nfalse, sceptical maxims in relation to common things, but who are\nsimply puzzled by an apparent want of the same certitude in religion\nwhich they hold as unquestioned in lower branches of knowledge. He\nundertakes to show that the principles of assent which all men act\non in the affairs of this life lead logically to the same certitude\nof the infallibility of the Catholic Church, and the truth of every\nthing she proposes to belief, that a man has that Great Britain is\nan island. If any one thinks there is a break or a weak spot in his\nchain of reasoning, let him pull it apart and throw the fragments\naside, and he will have accomplished a considerable feat in logic.\nWe think that, on account of this manner of approaching the subject,\nthis book is likely to prove extremely useful in convincing sincere,\nwell-intentioned doubters, whose minds have been educated under the\nsame circumstances and in the same intellectual atmosphere with those\nof the author. As for the analysis of certitude itself, and the\nmetaphysics of the ultimate question how we know, and what is that\nwhich we know first, the author may be criticised; but we think, as\nwe have said, that he did not have it in view to propose a theory.\nWe do perceive and know; we do exist, and we know that other things\nexist, and we are certain of these things, and no pretended sceptic\nreally doubts. We may start from this, therefore, as a fixed base\nof operation, without waiting for a metaphysical theory. If the\ntheory which we hold is incorrect, we can change it without hurting\nour argument, just as a person who lives in a regular and sensible\nmanner, and is in good health, can change a physiological doctrine\nwhich he finds to be erroneous without changing his practical rules\nof living. Whether Dr. Newman's statement respecting real and\nnotional assents be correct or not, every candid and honest man\nwill acknowledge that he does assent with certitude to the truth of\nthose things which the author calls notions. We suspect, moreover,\nthat the illustrious author in his affirmation that nothing really\nexists except individuals, means that there are no other spiritual\nor material _substances_; or, in other words, that every substance\nis a simple monad existing in itself and separate from every other.\nWe do not apprehend that, in denying that time, space, relation,\netc., are real, he intends to affirm that they are mere subjective\naffections of our minds without any foundation in objective reality,\nbut only that they are not either spirits or bodies, and would be\nnothing if there were no spirit or body in existence. We suspect that\nthe nominalism attributed to Dr. Newman is merely in the phrase, and\nthat his difference from the realism of St. Thomas is only in the\nterminology.\n\nThe other point we desire to notice is theological. Our Episcopalian\nneighbors, and some others also, are accustomed to refer to Dr.\nNewman as an instance in proof of their frequent assertion that men\nof genius and learning in our communion chafe under the yoke of\nRome, and, if they are converts, feel themselves disappointed in the\nexpectations with which they entered the church. The recent letter\nof Dr. Newman to Dr. Ullathorne is, of course, a lucky windfall for\nthem, and is interpreted as a proof that they were not mistaken. The\nvolume we are noticing will, for every candid and sensible reader,\ncompletely scatter to the winds any false and calumnious attempts\nto class Dr. Newman with Mr. Ffoulkes, Mr. Renouf, the translator\nof _Janus_, and the rest of that clique in England, or to impeach\nthe integrity of his faith and loyalty as a Catholic priest and\ntheologian. The letter itself shows that Dr. Newman holds what his\nwritings show he has always held, as the more probable doctrine, that\nthe judgments of the pope in matters of faith are infallible. The\nutmost extent of his expressions of repugnance to a definition of\nthis doctrine is, that he considers the weakness of faith, the lack\nof knowledge, and the deficiency of the reasoning faculty in a number\nof Catholics to be so great, and the bewilderment of mind so extreme\nin persons outside the church who are seeking the truth, that they\ncannot bear to have the light too suddenly and brightly flashed into\ntheir eyes. The great and holy Oratorian father pities these souls,\nand wishes to have them cautiously and gently led into the truth;\nand he is afraid that the pope, sitting in the effulgence of the\ndivine Shekinah in the temple of God, does not appreciate the state\nof those who are living in the fainter light or the clouded climates\nof a remoter region. The chapter of the volume under notice entitled,\n\"Belief in Dogmatic Theology,\" will show beyond a question what we\nhave asserted of Dr. Newman's theological soundness, and we quote one\npassage as a specimen.\n\nThe church \"makes it imperative on every one, priest and layman,\nto profess as revealed truth all the canons of councils, _and\ninnumerable decisions of popes_, propositions so various, so\nnotional, that but few can know them, and fewer can understand them.\"\n(P. 142, Eng. ed.)\n\nIn the chapter on the \"Indefectibility of Certitude\" occurs\nthis passage: \"A man is converted to the Catholic Church from\nhis admiration of its religious system, and his disgust with\nProtestantism. That admiration remains; but, after a time, he leaves\nhis new faith; perhaps returns to his old. The reason, if we may\nconjecture, may sometimes be this: he has never believed in the\nchurch's infallibility; in her doctrinal truth he has believed, but\nin her infallibility, no. He was asked, before he was received,\nwhether he held all that the church taught; he replied he did; but\nhe understood the question to mean, whether he held those particular\ndoctrines 'which at that time the church in matter of fact formally\ntaught,' whereas it really meant 'whatever the church then or at\nany future time should teach.' Thus, he never had the indispensable\nand elementary faith of a Catholic, and was simply no subject for\nreception into the fold of the church. This being the case, when the\nimmaculate conception is defined, he feels that it is something more\nthan he bargained for when he became a Catholic, and accordingly he\ngives up his religious profession. The world will say that he has\nlost his certitude of the divinity of the Catholic faith; but he\nnever had it.\" (P. 240.)\n\nWe do not desire to have a party tolerated in the church whose\nprinciples are precisely those here condemned by Dr. Newman, or\nto have the way open for converts to be received who lack the\n\"indispensable and elementary faith of a Catholic.\" We look with\ndismay upon the audacious and heretical attitude of that fallen angel\nF. Hyacinthe, the scandalous position assumed by Huber, D\u00f6llinger,\nand Gratry, and we anticipate greater impediment to the progress of\nthe faith from a miserable counterfeit and pseudo-catholicity, which\nis nothing else than the base metal coined by Photius, than from\nthe difficulties hanging about the history of the popes, which are\nno greater than those that beset councils, tradition, or the holy\nScripture itself. Whatever definitions are promulgated by the Council\nof the Vatican, no one pretending to be a Catholic can hesitate to\nreceive them because they are \"more than he bargained for.\" Those\nwho have chafed under the doctrinal authority of the popes have been\ncrying out for a council for two centuries. Those who are _bona fide_\nin any doubt or uncertainty respecting questions not yet defined have\nthe way open for their doubts to be settled. If there are persons\nin the communion of the church who have not the principle of faith\nin them by which they are prepared without hesitation to believe\nwhatever the Council of the Vatican proposes, we desire that they\nshould leave their external connection with the Catholic Church,\nwhich they have already inwardly abandoned. And we think it most\nnecessary that the duty of unreserved submission to the infallible\nauthority of the church, and to the Roman pontiff, as her supreme\nteacher and judge as well as ruler, should be most distinctly placed\nbefore those who seek admission into her fold. We are grateful to Dr.\nNewman for the clear and unmistakable tones in which he has spoken\non the obligation of believing whatever the church commands us to\nbelieve through the mouth of the sovereign pontiff; and as for the\nquestion what definitions are necessary and opportune for the present\ntime, we confide absolutely in the divinely assisted judgment of Pius\nIX. and the Catholic episcopate.\n\nSince writing the above, we are glad to see that Dr. Newman has\nwritten another letter, in which the following passage occurs: \"I\nhave not had a moment's wavering of trust in the Catholic Church\never since I was received into her fold. I hold, and ever have held,\nthat her sovereign pontiff is the centre of unity and the vicar of\nChrist. And I ever have had, and have still, an unclouded faith in\nher creed in all its articles; a supreme satisfaction in her worship,\ndiscipline, and teaching; and an eager longing, and a hope against\nhope, that the many dear friends whom I have left in Protestantism\nmay be partakers in my happiness.\" (_Tablet_, April 16th.) We are\nglad, we say, to see this, not on our own account, for we have the\nhonor of a personal acquaintance with the illustrious Oratorian, and\nknow him too well to have the need of any such assurance of his firm\nand ardent Catholic faith and piety; but in order that the mouths of\ncavillers may be stopped, and those weak brethren who tremble like\naspen-leaves in every light breeze be reassured.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    THE ORIGIN, PERSECUTIONS, AND DOCTRINES OF THE WALDENSES; FROM\n    DOCUMENTS, MANY NOW FOR THE FIRST TIME COLLECTED AND EDITED. By\n    Pius Melia, D.D. London: James Toovey, 177 Piccadilly. 1870.\n    For sale by the Catholic Publication Society, 9 Warren street,\n    New York.\n\nIn the year 1868, a London daily newspaper produced editorially one\nof those statements so frequently made concerning the Waldenses, and\nwhich, by dint of repetition, end by passing for recognized facts. It\nwas as follows:\n\n    \"For sixteen hundred years, at least, the Waldenses have\n    guarded the pure and primitive Christianity of the apostles....\n    No one knows when or how the faith was first delivered to these\n    mountaineers. Iren\u00e6us, Bishop of Lyons, in the second century\n    found them a church.\n\n    \"These gallant hill-men have kept the tradition of the Gospel\n    committed to them as pure and inviolate as the snow upon\n    their own Alps. They have maintained an evangelical form of\n    Christianity from the very first, rejecting image-worship,\n    invocation of saints, auricular confession, celibacy, papal\n    supremacy or infallibility, and the dogma of purgatory; taking\n    the Scripture as the rule of life, and admitting no sacraments\n    but baptism and the Lord's Supper.... No bloodier cruelty\n    disgraces the records of the papacy than the persecutions\n    endured by the ancestors of the twenty thousand Waldenses now\n    surviving.... Never did men suffer more for their belief.\"\n\nAs the author mildly presents it, these statements not being in\naccordance with his knowledge of the subject, he was moved to\nundertake a thorough investigation of the history of the Waldenses.\nTo this end, in addition to the perusal of a long and formidable list\nof works given in the preface, and which is valuable as presenting\nthe bibliography of the subject, he made thorough investigation\nin the great libraries of England, Rome, and Turin, which last\ncollection was found very rich in MSS. referring to the Waldensian\nperiod. Fresh stimulus and efficient aid were given to his efforts by\nthe appearance of a very important work by Professor James Henthorn\nTodd, Senior Fellow of Trinity Church, Dublin, entitled, _The Book\nof the Vaudois; The Waldensian Manuscripts_, which gives a notice\nof the long-lost Morland manuscripts lately discovered by Mr. Henry\nBradshaw, M.A., Fellow of King's College, Cambridge, and librarian of\nthat university. These MSS. are undoubtedly \"the oldest extant relics\nof the Vaudois literature,\" and the most important documents relating\nto their history.\n\nThe author forcibly presents _in extenso_, and in separate chapters,\nthe testimony of Richard, Monk of Cluny, Moneta, De Bellavilla,\nAbbot Bernard, Reinerius Sacco, Archbishop Seyssell, Eneas Sylvius\nPiccolomini, Casini, and many others, and in the fifteenth section\naddresses himself to prove that the dates which Leger and Morland\nhave assigned to the Waldensian MSS. are counterfeit. Leger assigns\nA.D. 1100 as the date of the _Nobla Ley\u00e7on_ and the _Catechism_ of\nthe MSS. Our author shows that these writings are of the fifteenth,\nnot the twelfth century, and that the date assigned by Leger involves\nthe contradiction of proving that the Waldenses existed as a sect\nbefore the period of its founder, Peter Waldo.\n\nOne long chapter is devoted to the supposed cruel Waldensian massacre\nof the year 1655, as related in the often-quoted _Histoire V\u00e9ritable\ndes Vaudois_, and to the particular murders described by Leger. These\nare confronted with the legal testimony touching the same facts.\n\nThe work closes with an exposition of the Waldensian theological\ntenets, each one being presented separately with a statement of the\nCatholic doctrine on that tenet upon the same page.\n\nThe book is a beautiful specimen of typography, and is illustrated\nwith several photographs of pages of the Morland manuscripts.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    THE CHARLESTOWN CONVENT; ITS DESTRUCTION BY A MOB, ETC.\n    Compiled from authentic sources. Boston: P. Donahoe. 1870.\n\nWe remember distinctly the Ursuline Convent at Charlestown, as it\nappeared forty years ago, crowning a gentle summit with its grave and\ndignified buildings, and attractive grounds laid out and cultivated\nwith taste; a retreat of piety and a school of religious and solid\neducation. We have often enough since that time looked upon its\nruins, a perpetual monument of disgrace to Boston and Massachusetts,\na token of shame in close proximity to that other monument, a\nmonument of imperishable glory, which crowns the site of the battle\nof Bunker Hill. This pamphlet describing the atrocious and barbarian\noutrage perpetrated on the night of August 11th, 1834, with the\ntrain of preceding and succeeding events connected with it, presents\na page in our history which many persons would do well to ponder\nattentively. The outrage was occasioned by the publication of _Six\nMonths in a Convent_, one of a class of vile publications which, for\na time, were widely circulated and swallowed with credulity, but\nafterward universally scouted with that scorn and loathing which\nthe American people always feels when it discovers that it has\nbeen duped by the wicked and designing. There would be no need of\nreviving the memory of these things, if the same style of attack upon\nCatholics had not been renewed at intervals, and were not adopted at\nthe present moment by restless fanatics, who, knowing that they are\nincapable of coping with us in fair argument, are fain to resort to\nthese criminal methods of appealing to prejudice, bigotry, ignorance,\nand passion, hoping to stir up the populace to a crusade against the\nCatholic religion. The abettors of Rebecca Reed and Maria Monk in the\npulpit and the press have had successors to the present time. The\nMassachusetts Legislature has had its \"smelling committee;\" Missouri\nhas passed its outrageous laws; other legislatures have attempted to\nlay their hands upon the property of the Catholic Church; the most\ninfamous laws are even now in consideration before the Legislature\nof Pennsylvania; we have had the archangel Gabriel, and Judson, and\nGavazzi, and Leahy, and we have now Bishop Coxe, Bellows, Hepworth,\nand Muller. The same firm of publishers which formerly was so active\nand conspicuous in putting forth the most vulgar and violent attacks\nupon the Catholic religion, although in one instance it found it\nexpedient to hide itself under an _alias_, continues its work under\nthe guise of a more pretentious literature, embellished by offensive\ncaricatures of the most venerable and sacred objects of the religious\nveneration of Catholics. The spirit of falsification, the intention\nto stir up popular passion, the intolerance disguised under the name\nof liberalism, the determination to treat the Catholic clergy as\nthe heads of a faction with ulterior treasonable and revolutionary\ndesigns, and the Catholic religion as a nuisance which ought to be\nextirpated by violence, are the same in the modern agitators that\nthey were in their predecessors, and are in their English compeers,\nthe Newdegates and Whalleys of the British Parliament. They tend to\nsimilar results with those which similar agitators have heretofore\nproduced. The same train is laid, the same spark applied, and the\nchance of a similar explosion depends on the fact of the existence\nor non-existence of a similar magazine of slumbering popular\nprejudice and inflammable passion. We say, therefore, that it is well\nfor considerate persons who desire the peace of the community to\nread and reflect upon this pamphlet. It is necessary that some very\nimportant questions should arise, where Catholics and non-Catholics\nform important elements in the same political community, with\nequal rights. It is impossible that peace and good order should be\npreserved, unless these matters can be discussed and arranged calmly\nand amicably. Therefore we say that the agitators who appeal to a\nviolent solution, in case Catholics are not content with a simple\ntoleration under a Protestant domination, are enemies of the public\npeace, and ought to be regarded as such by all good citizens. The\nCatholic clergy will never be agitators. If the effort is made by\ndemagogues to pervert the Catholic or Irish sentiment into an impetus\nof illegal, revolutionary movements, like the riot of 1863 and the\nFenian plot against Canada, the whole authority of the church and\nall the influence of the clergy will be put forth against it. It is\nfor the present and future advantage and interest of this country\nthat the influence of the Catholic clergy over their people should be\nas great as possible, and that of clerical agitators and demagogues\nreduced to nothing.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    LIFE OF ST. CHARLES BORROMEO. Edited by Edward Healy Thompson,\n    A.M. Philadelphia: Peter F. Cunningham. 1870.\n\nSt. Charles Borromeo was one of the greatest of the true reformers of\nthe sixteenth century. During the lifetime of his Uncle, Pius IV., he\nheld many of the highest offices in the Roman court, possessed the\npope's entire confidence, and exerted a powerful influence in favor\nof whatever was for the good of the church. To his exertions were\ndue, in no small degree, the reassembling of the Council of Trent,\nand the successful completion of its labors eighteen years after its\nopening.\n\nAt the death of Pius IV., St. Charles returned to his diocese, and\nstraightway entered upon the work of its reformation, in accordance\nwith the decrees of Trent. He succeeded in effecting a complete\nreform, and the example which he thus gave had a most salutary effect.\n\nThe _Life_ before us is well written; it gives not only the facts,\nbut likewise in some degree the philosophy of history; and it is free\nfrom that religious mannerism, so to speak, which is not unfrequently\nmet with in books of this class. The typography and binding are in\nkeeping with the contents. There are, however, a great many very\nserious errors of the press defacing this otherwise well printed\nvolume.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    FIRST BOOK OF BOTANY. By Eliza A. Youmans. New York: D.\n    Appleton & Co. 1870.\n\nThis elementary treatise upon botany is arranged in an entirely new\nmanner. The book is intended to cultivate the child's natural powers\nof observation. In ordinary text-books, the beginner is expected\nto master a great number of definitions and distinctions before he\nventures to go into the fields and study for himself. We have always\nconsidered this method irksome, and we know it to be fruitless of\nresult. We therefore very heartily welcome Miss Youmans's little\nwork. We hope that she has inaugurated a reform in the teaching\nof the natural sciences. We confidently recommend the book to all\nCatholic schools where botany, or any of the natural sciences, form a\nportion of the course of studies.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    THE WISE MEN: WHO THEY WERE, ETC. By Francis W. Upham, LL.D.\n    New York: Sheldon & Co. 1869.\n\nA book written with sound and solid learning, and originality of\nthought; pervaded also by a spirit in harmony with Catholic teaching,\nso far as the topics are concerned upon which it treats.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    THE MONKS BEFORE CHRIST; Their Spirit and their History. By\n    John Edgar Johnson. Boston: A. Williams & Co. 1870.\n\nThis is one of the most shallow and stupid productions we have met\nwith in a long time. The author met with some rather poor specimens\nof the monastic order in Europe, and breaks out into the exclamation,\n\"Great heavens! and these are the men who had the exclusive\nmanipulation of our Scriptures for several hundred years!\" (Page\n18.) One who is so extremely weak in the reasoning faculty as this\npassage indicates has no business to write a book on serious topics,\nand is unworthy of refutation. The author informs us that monasticism\nis based on the Manich\u00e6an doctrine of an evil principle in matter.\nThis shows an _inconceivable_ ignorance which we cannot think is\n_invincible_ or excusable, since the author resided several months at\nthe University of Munich, and was well acquainted with the learned\nBenedictines of that capital, over whom the celebrated Haneberg is\nabbot.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    THE FLEMMINGS; OR, TRUTH TRIUMPHANT. By Mrs. Anna H. Dorsay.\n    New York: P. O'Shea. 1870.\n\nThe author of this volume has given us a pleasant story, interesting\nboth to Catholics and Protestants, as tales of conversions to the\ntrue faith cannot fail to be when founded, as this appears to be,\non fact. The pictures of natural scenery are fresh and life-like,\nand the moral and religious teaching unexceptionable. It is\ncarelessly written, which will prevent the book from taking rank as a\nfirst-class story, though it will interest and profit certain minds,\nwho would not prize it more highly if it were thoroughly cultivated\nand refined.\n\nA moment's thought would have prevented mistakes in local customs,\nsuch as introducing a hay-tedder into farming operations forty years\nago, and making our Puritan forefathers _go up_ to their communion,\nwhereas they had not reverence enough for the _symbols_ to rise or\nkneel at their reception, but remained seated in their pews, even as\ntheir descendants do to this day.\n\nThe blunders in spelling which mar many pages of the book would\ndisgrace a third-rate proof-reader, and we are certain the author\nnever saw the proofs. Both paper and type are of inferior quality.\nThese faults are the more inexcusable, as the beautiful covering,\nwith the choice gilded medallion and precious motto, led us to look\nfor something very nice in the way of print and paper.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    WONDERS OF ITALIAN ART. By Louis Viardot. Illustrated. New\n    York: Charles Scribner & Co. 1870.\n\nAn interesting book spoiled by careless expressions and incorrect\nassertions. Such expressions as \"the worship of images,\" (page 28,)\ninstead of \"veneration,\" etc.; the assertion that the \"policy of the\npopes always was to foster disunion in Italy, in order to profit by\nit,\" (page 35,) and styling Savonarola \"the Italian Luther,\" (page\n111,) make it unfit for introduction among Catholics. It is to be\nregretted that a book like this, containing as it does so much that\nis great and good in the history of Catholic art in Italy, should\nbe marred by statements which are not historically true, and have\nnothing whatever to do with such a work.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    HOME INFLUENCE. By Grace Aguilar. New York: D. Appleton & Co.\n\nIt is quite refreshing, after the floods of impassioned sensational\nnovels that have poured from the press on all sides for the last ten\nor fifteen years, to know that there is a call for the purity and\nhigh-toned sentiment that flow from the pen of Miss Aguilar.\n\nTwenty years ago, her works afforded interest and instruction, the\npresent volume to mothers especially, and though her children and\ngrown people are sometimes stiff and priggish, and are wont to talk\nlike books, they are always well-bred and refined, never descending\nto irreverence or slang, as they too often do in stories of to-day.\n\nIt was formerly a criticism on her works, that they favored Judaism\n(the creed of their author) at the expense of Christianity; but no\nsuch charge can be brought against _Home Influence_ with any truth.\n\nThis volume presents an attractive exterior, and if the works of this\nauthor take again with the novel-reading public, it will be a symptom\nof returning health in the community.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    MISSALE ROMANUM, ex decreto sacrosancti Concilii Tridentini\n    restitutum, S. Pii VI. jussu editum, Clementis VIII. et Urbani\n    VIII. Pap\u00e6 auctoritate recognitum, et novis missis ex indulto\n    apostolico hucusque concessis auctum. Mechlini\u00e6: H. Dessain.\n\nThis Missal, from the house of the Messrs. Benziger Brothers, is\nprinted in good, clear type, pleasant to the eye; contains the last\nnew masses enjoined by the Sacred Congregation of Rites, and is\nillustrated with excellent full-page engravings. It is besides, as a\nbook, both serviceable and cheap.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTHE CATHOLIC PUBLICATION SOCIETY has in press, and will publish, May\ntwenty-fifth, a work by James Kent Stone, D.D., late President of\nKenyon and Hobart Colleges, entitled, _The Invitation Heeded: Reasons\nfor a Return to Catholic Unity_. As the title implies, Mr. Stone\nwill, in this volume, give his reasons for becoming a Catholic.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nMESSRS. JOHN MURPHY & CO. announce as in press, _The Paradise of\nthe Earth; or, the True Means of Finding Happiness in the Religious\nState_, according to the Rules of the Masters of Spiritual Life.\nTranslated from the French of L'Abb\u00e9 Sanson, by the Rev. F. Ignatius\nSisk, of the Cistercian Community, Mount St. Bernard's Abbey. Also,\n_Devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus_. From the Italian of Secundo\nFranco, S.J.\n\n\n\n\nA DOGMATIC DECREE ON CATHOLIC FAITH.\n\nCONFIRMED AND PROMULGATED IN THE THIRD PUBLIC SESSION OF THE VATICAN\nCOUNCIL, HELD IN ST. PETER'S, ROME, ON LOW-SUNDAY, APRIL 24, 1870.\n\nCONSTITVTIO DOGMATICA DE FIDE CATHOLICA.\n\n\n                                       [This translation has been\n                                       carefully revised for THE\n                                       CATHOLIC WORLD by some of the\n                                       bishops attending the council.]\n\n    PIVS EPISCOPVS SERVVS SERVORVM     PIUS, BISHOP, SERVANT OF THE\n    DEI SACRO APPROBANTE CONCILIO AD   SERVANTS OF GOD, WITH THE\n    PERPETVAM REI MEMORIAM.            APPROBATION OF THE HOLY COUNCIL,\n                                       FOR A PERPETUAL REMEMBRANCE\n                                       HEREOF.\n\n    Dei Filius et generis humani       Our Lord Jesus Christ, the Son\n    Redemptor Dominus Noster Iesus     of God and the Redeemer of\n    Christus, ad Patrem coelestem      mankind, when about to return to\n    rediturus, cum Ecclesia sua in     his heavenly Father, promised\n    terris militante, omnibus diebus   that he would be with his\n    usque ad consummationem saeculi    church, militant on earth, all\n    futurum se esse promisit. Quare    days even to the consummation\n    dilectae sponsae praesto esse,     of the world. Wherefore, he\n    adsistere docenti, operanti        has never at any time failed\n    benedicere, periclitanti opem      to be with his beloved spouse,\n    ferre nullo unquam tempore         to assist her in her teaching,\n    destitit. Haec vero salutaris      to bless her in her labors, to\n    eius providentia, cum ex aliis     aid her in danger. And this his\n    beneficiis innumeris continenter   saving providence, unceasingly\n    apparuit, tum iis manifestissime   displayed in countless other\n    comperta est fructibus, qui        blessings, is most clearly\n    orbi christiano e Conciliis        made manifest by those very\n    oecumenicis ac nominatim e         abundant fruits which have\n    Tridentino, iniquis licet          come to the Christian world\n    temporibus celebrato, amplissimi   from \u0153cumenical councils,\n    provenerunt. Hinc enim             and especially from that of\n    sanctissima religionis dogmata     Trent, although it was held\n    pressius definita uberiusque       in evil days. For thereby the\n    exposita, errores damnati atque    holy doctrines of religion were\n    cohibiti; hinc ecclesiastica       more distinctly defined and\n    disciplina restituta firmiusque    more fully set forth; errors\n    sancita, promotum in Clero         were condemned and restrained;\n    scientiae et pietatis studium,     thereby ecclesiastical\n    parata adolescentibus ad sacram    discipline was restored and\n    militiam educandis collegia,       more firmly established; zeal\n    christiani denique populi          for learning and piety was\n    mores et accuratiore fidelium      promoted among the clergy; and\n    eruditione et frequentiore         colleges were provided for the\n    sacramentorum usu instaurati.      training of young men for the\n    Hinc praeterea arctior membrorum   sacred ministry; and finally the\n    cum visibili Capite communio,      practice of Christian morality\n    universoque corpori Christi        was restored among the people\n    mystico additus vigor; hinc        by more careful instruction\n    religiosae multiplicatae           and a more frequent use of\n    familiae, aliaque christianae      the sacraments. Hence arose,\n    pietatis instituta; hinc ille      likewise, a closer union of the\n    etiam assiduus et usque ad         members with the visible head,\n    sanguinis effusionem constans      and renewed strength to the\n    ardor in Christi regno late per    entire mystical body of Christ;\n    orbem propagando.                  hence the increased number of\n                                       religious communities, and of\n                                       other institutions of Christian\n                                       piety; hence, also, that\n                                       unceasing zeal, constant even to\n                                       martyrdom, to spread the kingdom\n                                       of Christ throughout the world.\n\n    Verumtamen haec aliaque insignia   Nevertheless, while with\n    emolumenta, quae per ultimam       becoming gratitude we call to\n    maxime oecumenicam Synodum         mind these and the many other\n    divina clementia Ecclesiae         remarkable benefits which the\n    largita est, dum grato, quo par    goodness of God has bestowed\n    est, animo recolimus; acerbum      on the church chiefly through\n    compescere haud possumus           the last \u0153cumenical council,\n    dolorem ob mala gravissima,        we cannot suppress our bitter\n    inde potissimum orta, quod         sorrow for the grievous evils\n    eiusdem sacrosanctae Synodi        which have chiefly sprung\n    apud permultos vel auctoritas      from many having despised the\n    contempta, vel sapientissima       authority of the aforesaid\n    neglecta fuere decreta.            sacred council, or having\n                                       neglected to observe its most\n                                       wise decrees.\n\n    Nemo enim ignorat, haereses,       For it is known to all that\n    quas Tridentini Patres             the heresies which the fathers\n    proscripserunt, dum, reiecto       of Trent condemned, and which\n    divino Ecclesiae magisterio, res   rejected the divine authority\n    ad religionem spectantes privati   of the church to teach, and\n    cuiusvis iudicio permitterentur,   instead, subjected all things\n    in sectas paullatim dissolutas     belonging to religion to the\n    esse multiplices, quibus           judgment of each individual,\n    inter se dissentientibus et        were, in course of time, broken\n    concertantibus, omnis tandem       up into many sects; and that,\n    in Christum fides apud non         as these differed and disputed\n    paucos labefactata est. Itaque     with each other, it came to\n    ipsa sacra Biblia, quae antea      pass, at length, that all belief\n    christianae doctrinae unicus       in Christ was overthrown in the\n    fons et iudex asserebantur, iam    minds of not a few. And so, the\n    non pro divinis haberi, imo        sacred Scriptures themselves,\n    mythicis commentis accenseri       which they had at first held up\n    coeperunt.                         as the only source and judge\n                                       of Christian doctrine, were no\n                                       longer held as divine, but,\n                                       on the contrary, began to be\n                                       counted among myths and fables.\n\n    Tum nata est et late nimis per     Then arose and spread too widely\n    orbem vagata illa rationalismi     through the world that doctrine\n    seu naturalismi doctrina, quae     of rationalism or naturalism,\n    religioni christianae utpote       which, attacking Christianity\n    supernaturali instituto per        at every point as being a\n    omnia adversans, summo studio      supernatural institution, labors\n    molitur, ut Christo, qui solus     with all its might to exclude\n    Dominus et Salvator noster est,    Christ, who is our only Lord\n    a mentibus humanis, a vita et      and Saviour, from the minds of\n    moribus populorum excluso, merae   men and from the life and the\n    quod vocant rationis vel naturae   morals of nations; and so to\n    regnum stabiliatur. Relicta        establish, instead, the reign\n    autem proiectaque christiana       of mere reason, as they call\n    religione, negato vero Deo         it, or of nature. And thus,\n    et Christo eius, prolapsa          having forsaken and cast away\n    tandem est multorum mens in        the Christian religion, having\n    pantheismi, materialismi,          denied the true God and his\n    atheismi barathrum, ut iam         Christ, the minds of many have\n    ipsam rationalem naturam,          at last fallen into the abyss\n    omnemque iusti rectique normam     of pantheism, materialism, and\n    negantes, ima humanae societatis   atheism; so that now repudiating\n    fundamenta diruere connitantur.    the reasoning nature of man, and\n                                       every rule of right and wrong,\n                                       they are laboring to overthrow\n                                       the very foundations of human\n                                       society.\n\n    Hac porro impietate circumquaque   Moreover, as this impious\n    grassante, infeliciter contigit,   doctrine is spreading\n    ut plures etiam e catholicae       everywhere, it has unfortunately\n    Ecclesiae filiis a via verae       come to pass that not a few even\n    pietatis aberrarent, in            of the children of the Catholic\n    iisque, diminutis paullatim        Church have wandered from the\n    veritatibus, sensus catholicus     way of true piety; and as the\n    attenuaretur. Variis enim ac       truth gradually decayed in their\n    peregrinis doctrinis abducti,      minds, the catholic sentiment\n    naturam et gratiam, scientiam      grew fainter in them. For,\n    humanam et fidem divinam           being led away by various and\n    perperam commiscentes, genuinum    strange doctrines, and wrongly\n    sensum dogmatum, quem tenet ac     confounding nature and grace,\n    docet Sancta Mater Ecclesia,       human science and divine faith,\n    depravare, integritatemque et      they have perverted the true\n    sinceritatem fidei in periculum    sense of the doctrines which our\n    adducere comperiuntur.             holy mother the church holds and\n                                       teaches, and have endangered\n                                       the integrity and the purity of\n                                       faith.\n\n    Quibus omnibus perspectis, fieri   Now, looking at all these\n    qui potest, ut non commoveantur    things, how can the church fail\n    intima Ecclesiae viscera?          to be moved in her innermost\n    Quemadmodum enim Deus vult         heart? For inasmuch as God\n    omnes homines salvos fieri,        wills all men to be saved and\n    et ad agnitionem veritatis         to come to the knowledge of\n    venire; quemadmodum Christus       the truth, inasmuch as Christ\n    venit, ut salvum faceret, quod     came to save that which was\n    perierat, et filios Dei, qui       lost, and to gather together in\n    erant dispersi, congregaret        one the children of God that\n    in unum: ita Ecclesia, a Deo       were dispersed; so the church,\n    populorum mater et magistra        established by God as the mother\n    constituta, omnibus debitricem     and mistress of nations, feels\n    se novit, ac lapsos erigere,       that she is a debtor unto all,\n    labantes sustinere, revertentes    and is ever ready and earnest\n    amplecti, confirmare bonos et ad   to raise up the fallen, to\n    meliora provehere parata semper    strengthen the weak, to take to\n    et intenta est. Quapropter         her bosom those that return,\n    nullo tempore a Dei veritate,      and to confirm the good, and\n    quae sanat omnia, testanda et      carry them on to better things.\n    praedicanda quiescere potest,      Wherefore, at no time can she\n    sibi dictum esse non ignorans:     abstain from bearing witness to\n    Spiritus meus, qui est in          and preaching the all-healing\n    te, et verba mea, quae posui       truth of God; knowing that it\n    in ore tuo, non recedent de        has been said to her, \"My spirit\n    ore tuo amodo et usque in          that is in thee, and my words\n    sempiternum.[140]                  that I have put in thy mouth,\n                                       shall not depart out of thy\n                                       mouth, from henceforth and for\n                                       ever.\" (Isa. lix. 21.)\n\n    Nos itaque, inhaerentes            Wherefore, following in the\n    Praedecessorum Nostrorum           footsteps of our predecessors,\n    vestigiis, pro supremo Nostro      and in fulfilment of our supreme\n    Apostolico munere veritatem        apostolic duty, we have never\n    catholicam docere ac tueri,        omitted to teach and to protect\n    perversasque doctrinas reprobare   the catholic truth, and to\n    nunquam intermisimus. Nunc         reprove perverse teachings.\n    autem sedentibus Nobiscum et       And now, the bishops of the\n    iudicantibus universi orbis        whole world being gathered\n    Episcopis, in hanc oecumenicam     together in this \u0153cumenical\n    Synodum auctoritate Nostra in      council by our authority, and\n    Spiritu Sancto congregatis,        in the Holy Ghost, and sitting\n    innixi Dei verbo scripto et        therein and judging with us,\n    tradito, prout ab Ecclesia         we, guided by the word of God,\n    catholica sancte custoditum et     both written and handed down by\n    genuine expositum accepimus, ex    tradition, as we have received\n    hac Petri Cathedra in conspectu    it, sacredly preserved and\n    omnium salutarem Christi           truly set forth by the Catholic\n    doctrinam profiteri et declarare   Church, have determined to\n    constituimus, adversis erroribus   profess and declare from this\n    potestate nobis a Deo tradita      chair of Peter, and in the sight\n    proscriptis atque damnatis.        of all, the saving doctrine of\n                                       Christ; and in the power given\n                                       to us from God to proscribe and\n                                       condemn the opposing errors.\n\n\n    CAPUT I.                           CHAPTER I.\n\n    DE DEO RERUM OMNIUM CREATORE.      OF GOD THE CREATOR OF ALL THINGS.\n\n    Sancta Catholica Apostolica        The holy, Catholic, Apostolic,\n    Romana Ecclesia credit et          Roman Church believes and\n    confitetur, unum esse Deum verum   confesses that there is one\n    et vivum, Creatorem ac Dominum     true and living God, Creator\n    coeli et terrae, omnipotentem,     and Lord of heaven and earth,\n    aeternum, immensum,                almighty, eternal, immense,\n    incomprehensibilem, intellectu     incomprehensible, infinite in\n    ac voluntate omnique perfectione   understanding and will and in\n    infinitum; qui cum sit una         all perfection; who, being\n    singularis, simplex omnino         a spiritual substance, one,\n    et incommutabilis substantia       single, absolutely simple and\n    spiritualis, praedicandus est re   unchangeable, must be held to\n    et essentia a mundo distinctus,    be, in reality and in essence,\n    in se et ex se beatissimus,        distinct from the world, in\n    et super omnia, quae praeter       himself and of himself perfectly\n    ipsum sunt et concipi possunt,     happy, and unspeakably exalted\n    ineffabiliter excelsus.            above all things that are or can\n                                       be conceived besides himself.\n\n    Hic solus verus Deus bonitate      This one only true God, of\n    sua et omnipotenti virtute non     his own goodness and almighty\n    ad augendam suam beatitudinem,     power, not to increase his own\n    nec ad acquirendam, sed ad         happiness, nor to acquire for\n    manifestandam perfectionem         himself perfection, but in\n    suam per bona, quae creaturis      order to manifest the same by\n    impertitur, liberrimo consilio     means of the good things which\n    simul ab initio temporis           he imparts to creatures, did,\n    utramque de nihilo condidit        of his own most free counsel,\n    creaturam, spiritualem et          \"from the beginning of time make\n    corporalem, angelicam videlicet    alike out of nothing two created\n    et mundanam, ac deinde humanam     natures, a spiritual one and\n    quasi communem ex spiritu et       a corporeal one, the angelic,\n    corpore constitutam[141].          to wit, and the earthly; and\n                                       afterward he made the human\n    Universa vero, quae condidit,      nature, as partaking of both,\n    Deus providentia sua tuetur        being composed of spirit and\n    atque gubernat, attingens a fine   body.\" (Fourth Lateran Council,\n    usque ad finem fortiter, et        ch. I. _Firmiter_.) Moreover,\n    disponens omnia suaviter[142].     God, by his providence, protects\n    Omnia enim nuda et aperta sunt     and governs all things which he\n    oculis eius[143], ea etiam,        has made, reaching from end to\n    quae libera creaturarum actione    end mightily, and ordering all\n    futura sunt.                       things sweetly. (Wisdom viii.\n                                       1.) For all things are naked and\n                                       open to his eyes, (Heb. iv. 13,)\n                                       even those which are to come\n                                       to pass by the free action of\n                                       creatures.\n\n\n    CAPUT II.                          CHAPTER II.\n\n    DE REVELATIONE.                    OF REVELATION.\n\n    Eadem Sancta Mater Ecclesia        The same holy Mother Church\n    tenet et docet, Deum, rerum        holds and teaches that God, the\n    omnium principium et finem,        beginning and end of all things,\n    naturali humanae rationis          can be known with certainty\n    lumine e rebus creatis certo       through created things, by the\n    cognosci posse; invisibilia enim   natural light of human reason;\n    ipsius, a creatura mundi, per      \"for the invisible things of\n    ea quae facta sunt, intellecta,    him, from the creation of the\n    conspiciuntur[144]: attamen        world, are clearly seen, being\n    placuisse, eius sapientiae         understood by the things that\n    et bonitati, alia, eaque           are made,\" (Romans i. 20;) but\n    supernaturali via se ipsum ac      that nevertheless it has pleased\n    aeterna voluntatis suae decreta    his wisdom and goodness to\n    humano generi revelare, dicente    reveal to mankind, by another\n    Apostolo: Multifariam, multisque   and that a supernatural way,\n    modis olim Deus loquens patribus   himself and the eternal decrees\n    in Prophetis: novissime, diebus    of his will; even as the apostle\n    istis locutus est nobis in         says, \"God who at sundry times\n    Filio[145].                        and in divers manners spoke, in\n                                       times past, to the fathers by\n    Huic divinae revelationi           the prophets, last of all, in\n    tribuendum quidem est, ut ea,      these days hath spoken to us\n    quae in rebus divinis humanae      by his Son.\" (Heb. i. 1, 2.)\n    rationi per se impervia non        To this divine revelation is\n    sunt, in praesenti quoque          it to be ascribed that things\n    generis humani conditione          regarding God, which are not of\n    ab omnibus expedite, firma         themselves beyond the grasp of\n    certitudine et nullo admixto       human reason, may, even in the\n    errore cognosci possint. Non       present condition of the human\n    hac tamen de causa revelatio       race, be known by all, readily,\n    absolute necessaria dicenda        with full certainty and without\n    est, sed quia Deus ex infinita     any admixture of error. Yet not\n    bonitate sua ordinavit hominem     on this account is revelation\n    ad finem supernaturalem, ad        absolutely necessary, but\n    participanda scilicet bona         because God, of his infinite\n    divina, quae humanae mentis        goodness, has ordained man for\n    intelligentiam omnino superant;    a supernatural end, for the\n    siquidem oculus non vidit,         participation, that is, of\n    nec auris audivit, nec in          divine goods, which altogether\n    cor hominis ascendit, quae         surpass the understanding of\n    praeparavit Deus iis, qui          the human mind; for \"eye hath\n    diligunt ilium.[146]               not seen nor ear heard, neither\n                                       hath it entered into the heart\n                                       of man, what things God hath\n                                       prepared for them that love\n                                       him.\" (1 Cor. ii. 9.)\n\n    Haec porro supernaturalis          Now, this supernatural\n    revelatio, secundum universalis    revelation, according to the\n    Ecclesiae fidem, a sancta          belief of the universal church,\n    Tridentina Synodo declaratam,      as declared by the holy Council\n    continetur in libris scriptis et   of Trent, is contained in\n    sine scripto traditionibus, quae   the written books and in the\n    ipsius Christi ore ab Apostolis    unwritten traditions which\n    acceptae, aut ab ipsis Apostolis   have come to us as received\n    Spiritu Sancto dictante quasi      orally from Christ himself by\n    per manus traditae, ad nos usque   the apostles, or handed down\n    pervenerunt.[147] Qui quidem       from the apostles taught by\n    veteris et novi Testamenti         the Holy Ghost. (Council of\n    libri integri cum omnibus suis     Trent. Session iv. Decree on\n    partibus, prout in eiusdem         the Canon of Scripture.) And\n    Concilii decreto recensentur,      these books of the Old and New\n    et in veteri vulgata latina        Testament are to be received as\n    editione habentur, pro sacris      sacred and canonical, in their\n    et canonicis suscipiendi sunt.     integrity and with all their\n    Eos vero Ecclesia pro sacris       parts, as they are enumerated in\n    et canonicis habet, non ideo       the decree of the same council,\n    quod sola humana industria         and are had in the old Vulgate\n    concinnati, sua deinde             Latin edition. But the church\n    auctoritate sint approbati; nec    does hold them as sacred and\n    ideo dumtaxat, quod revelationem   canonical, not for the reason\n    sine errore contineant; sed        that they have been compiled\n    propterea quod Spiritu Sancto      by human industry alone, and\n    inspirante conscripti Deum         afterward approved by her\n    habent auctorem, atque ut tales    authority; nor only because\n    ipsi Ecclesiae traditi sunt.       they contain revelation without\n                                       error, but because, having been\n                                       written under the inspiration\n                                       of the Holy Ghost, they have\n                                       God for their author, and as\n                                       such have been delivered to the\n                                       church herself.\n\n    Quoniam vero, quae sancta          And since those things which the\n    Tridentina Synodus de              Council of Trent has declared\n    interpretatione divinae            by wholesome decrees concerning\n    Scripturae ad co\u00ebrcenda            the interpretation of divine\n    petulantia ingenia salubriter      Scripture, in order to restrain\n    decrevit, a quibusdam hominibus    restless spirits, are explained\n    prave exponuntur, Nos, idem        by some in a wrong sense; we,\n    decretum renovantes, hanc          renewing the same decree,\n    illius mentem esse declaramus,     declare this to be the mind of\n    ut in rebus fidei et morum,        the synod, that, in matters of\n    ad aedificationem doctrinae        faith and morals which pertain\n    Christianae pertinentium, is pro   to the edification of Christian\n    vero sensu sacrae Scripturae       doctrine, that is to be held as\n    habendus sit, quem tenuit ac       the true sense of the sacred\n    tenet Sancta Mater Ecclesia,       Scripture which holy mother\n    cuius est iudicare de vero sensu   church, to whom it belongs to\n    et interpretatione Scripturarum    judge of the true sense and\n    sanctarum; atque ideo nemini       interpretation of the sacred\n    licere contra hunc sensum, aut     Scriptures, has held and holds;\n    etiam contra unanimem consensum    and therefore that no one may\n    Patrum ipsam Scripturam sacram     interpret the sacred Scripture\n    interpretari.                      contrary to this sense, or\n                                       contrary to the unanimous\n                                       consent of the fathers.\n\n\n    CAPUT III.                         CHAPTER III.\n\n    DE FIDE.                           OF FAITH.\n\n    Quum homo a Deo tanquam            Forasmuch as man totally depends\n    Creatore et Domino suo totus       on God as his Creator and Lord,\n    dependeat, et ratio creata         and created reason is wholly\n    increatae Veritati penitus         subject to the uncreated truth,\n    subiecta sit, plenum revelanti     therefore we are bound, when God\n    Deo intellectus et voluntatis      makes a revelation, to render\n    obsequium fide praestare           to him the full obedience of\n    tenemur. Hanc vero fidem, quae     our understanding and will, by\n    humanae salutis initium est,       faith. And this faith, which\n    Ecclesia catholica profitetur,     is the beginning of man's\n    virtutem esse supernaturalem,      salvation, the church declares\n    qua, Dei aspirante et adiuvante    to be a supernatural virtue,\n    gratia, ab eo revelata vera        whereby, under the inspiration\n    esse credimus, non propter         and aid of God's grace, we\n    intrinsecam rerum veritatem        believe to be true the things\n    naturali rationis lumine           revealed by him, not for their\n    perspectam, sed propter            intrinsic truth seen by the\n    auctoritatem ipsius Dei            natural light of reason, but for\n    revelantis, qui nec falli nec      the authority of God revealing\n    fallere potest. Est enim fides,    them, who can neither deceive\n    testante Apostolo, sperandarum     nor be deceived. For faith, as\n    substantia rerum, argumentum non   the apostle witnesseth, is the\n    apparentium.[148]                  substance of things to be hoped\n                                       for, the evidence of things that\n                                       appear not. (Heb. xi. 1.)\n\n    Ut nihilominus fidei nostrae       To the end, nevertheless, that\n    obsequium rationi consentaneum     the obedience of our faith\n    esset, voluit Deus cum internis    might be agreeable to reason,\n    Spiritus Sancti auxiliis           God willed to join unto the\n    externa iungi revelationis         interior grace of the Holy\n    suae argumenta, facta scilicet     Spirit external proofs of his\n    divina, atque imprimis             revelation, to wit, divine\n    miracula et prophetias,            works, and chiefly miracles\n    quae cum Dei omnipotentiam         and prophecies, which, as\n    et infinitam scientiam             they manifestly show forth\n    luculenter commonstrent,           the omnipotence and the\n    divinae revelationis signa         infinite knowledge of God, are\n    sunt certissima et omnium          proofs most certain of divine\n    intelligentiae accommodata.        revelation, and suited to the\n    Quare turn Moyses et Prophetae,    understanding of all. Wherefore\n    tum ipse maxime Christus Dominus   both Moses and the prophets,\n    multa et manifestissima miracula   and above all, Christ our Lord\n    et prophetias ediderunt; et de     himself, wrought many and most\n    Apostolis legimus: Illi autem      evident miracles, and uttered\n    profecti praedicaverunt ubique,    prophecies; and of the apostles\n    Domino co-operante, et sermonem    we read, \"But they going forth\n    confirmante, sequentibus           preached everywhere: the Lord\n    signis.[149] Et rursum scriptum    working withal, and confirming\n    est: Habemus firmiorem             the word with signs that\n    propheticum sermonem, cui bene     followed.\" (Mark xvi. 20.) And\n    facitis attendentes quasi          again it is written, \"We have\n    lucernae lucenti in caliginoso     the more firm prophetical word;\n    loco.[150]                         whereunto you do well to attend,\n                                       as to a light that shineth in a\n                                       dark place.\" (2 Pet. i. 19.)\n\n    Licet autem fidei assensus         Yet although the assent of\n    nequaquam sit motus animi          faith is not by any means a\n    caecus: nemo tamen evangelicae     blind movement of the mind;\n    praedicationi consentire           nevertheless no one can believe\n    potest, sicut oportet ad           the preaching of the Gospel\n    salutem consequendam, absque       in such wise as behoveth to\n    illuminatione et inspiratione      salvation without the light and\n    Spiritus Sancti, qui dat omnibus   inspiration of the Holy Ghost,\n    suavitatem in consentiendo et      who giveth unto all sweetness\n    credendo veritati.[151] Quare      in yielding to the truth and\n    fides ipsa in se, etiamsi per      believing it. (2 Council of\n    charitatem non operetur, donum     Orange, Can. 7.) Wherefore\n    Dei est, et actus eius est         faith in itself, even though\n    opus ad salutem pertinens, quo     it be not working by charity,\n    homo liberam praestat ipsi Deo     is a gift of God; and an act\n    obedientiam, gratiae eius, cui     of faith is a work tending to\n    resistere posset, consentiendo     salvation, whereby man renders\n    et co\u00f6perando.                     free obedience to God himself,\n                                       consenting to and co\u00f6perating\n                                       with his grace, which he hath\n                                       power to resist.\n\n    Porro fide divina et catholica     Now, all those things are to be\n    ea omnia credenda sunt, quae in    believed of divine and catholic\n    verbo Dei scripto vel tradito      faith which are contained in the\n    continentur, et ab Ecclesia sive   word of God, whether written\n    solemni iudicio sive ordinario     or handed down by tradition;\n    et universali magisterio tamquam   and which the church, either by\n    divinitus revelata credenda        solemn decree or by her ordinary\n    proponuntur.                       and universal teaching, proposes\n                                       for belief as revealed by God.\n\n    Quoniam vero sine fide             And whereas without faith it is\n    impossibile est placere Deo,       impossible to please God, and\n    et ad filiorum eius consortium     to come to the fellowship of\n    pervenire; ideo nemini             his children, therefore hath no\n    unquam sine illa contigit          one at any time been justified\n    iustificatio, nec ullus, nisi      without faith; nor shall any\n    in ea perseveraverit usque         one, unless he persevere therein\n    in finem, vitam aeternam           unto the end, attain everlasting\n    assequetur. Ut autem officio       life. And in order that we might\n    veram fidem amplectendi, in        be able to fulfil our duty of\n    eaque constanter perseverandi      embracing the true faith, and of\n    satisfacere possemus, Deus         steadfastly persevering therein,\n    per Filium suum unigenitum         God, through his only-begotten\n    Ecclesiam instituit, suaeque       Son, did establish the church\n    institutionis manifestis notis     and place upon her manifest\n    instruxit, ut ea tamquam custos    marks of his institution,\n    et magistra verbi revelati ab      that all men might be able to\n    omnibus posset agnosci. Ad         recognize her as the guardian\n    solam enim catholicam Ecclesiam    and teacher of his revealed\n    ea pertinent omnia, quae ad        word. For only to the Catholic\n    evidentem fidei christianae        Church do all those signs\n    credibilitatem tam multa et tam    belong, which have been divinely\n    mira divinitus sunt disposita.     disposed, so many in number\n    Quin etiam Ecclesia per se         and so wonderful in character,\n    ipsa, ob suam nempe admirabilem    for the purpose of making\n    propagationem, eximiam             evident the credibility of the\n    sanctitatem et inexhaustam in      Christian faith; nay more, the\n    omnibus bonis foecunditatem, ob    very church herself, in view\n    catholicam unitatem, invictamque   of her wonderful propagation,\n    stabilitatem, magnum quoddam       her eminent holiness, and her\n    et perpetuum est motivum           exhaustless fruitfulness in\n    credibilitatis et divinae          all that is good, her catholic\n    suae legationis testimonium        unity, her unshaken stability,\n    irrefragabile.                     offers a great and evident claim\n                                       to belief, and an undeniable\n                                       proof of her divine commission.\n\n    Quo fit, ut ipsa veluti signum     Whence it is that she, as\n    levatum in nationes,[152] et       a standard set up unto the\n    ad se invitet, qui nondum          nations, (Is. xi. 12,) at the\n    crediderunt, et filios suos        same time calls to herself those\n    certiores faciat, firmissimo       who have not yet believed, and\n    niti fundamento fidem, quam        shows to her children that the\n    profitentur. Cui quidem            faith which they hold rests on\n    testimonio efficax subsidium       a most solid foundation. And to\n    accedit ex superna virtute.        this, her testimony, effectual\n    Etenim benignissimus Dominus       aid is supplied by power from\n    et errantes gratia sua excitat     above. For the Lord, infinitely\n    atque adiuvat, ut ad agnitionem    merciful, on the one hand stirs\n    veritatis venire possint;          up by his grace and helps those\n    et eos, quos de tenebris           who are in error, that they may\n    transtulit in admirabile lumen     be able to come to the knowledge\n    suum, in hoc eodem lumine          of the truth; and, on the\n    ut perseverent, gratia sua         other hand, those whom he hath\n    confirmat, non deserens, nisi      transferred from darkness into\n    deseratur. Quocirca minime par     his marvellous light he confirms\n    est conditio eorum, qui per        by his grace, that they may\n    coeleste fidei donum catholicae    persevere in that same light,\n    veritati adhaeserunt, atque        never abandoning them unless\n    eorum, qui ducti opinionibus       he be first by them abandoned.\n    humanis, falsam religionem         Wherefore, totally unlike is the\n    sectantur; illi enim, qui          condition of those who, by the\n    fidem sub Ecclesiae magisterio     heavenly gift of faith, have\n    susceperunt, nullam unquam         embraced the catholic truth,\n    habere possunt iustam causam       and of those who, led by human\n    mutandi, aut in dubium fidem       opinions, are following a false\n    eamdem revocandi. Quae cum         religion; for they who have\n    ita sint, gratias agentes Deo      received the faith under the\n    Patri, qui dignos nos fecit        teaching of the church can never\n    in partem sortis sanctorum in      have a just reason to change\n    lumine, tantam ne negligamus       that faith or call it into\n    salutem, sed aspicientes in        doubt. Wherefore, giving thanks\n    auctorem fidei et consummatorem    to God the Father, who hath made\n    Iesum, teneamus spei nostrae       us worthy to be partakers of\n    confessionem indeclinabilem.       the lot of the saints in light,\n                                       let us not neglect so great\n                                       salvation, but looking on Jesus,\n                                       the author and finisher of our\n                                       faith, let us hold fast the\n                                       confession of our hope without\n                                       wavering.\n\n\n    CAPUT IV.                          CHAPTER IV.\n\n    DE FIDE ET RATIONE.                OF FAITH AND REASON.\n\n    Hoc quoque perpetuus Ecclesiae     Moreover, the Catholic Church\n    catholicae consensus tenuit        has ever held, as she now holds,\n    et tenet, duplicem esse            that there exists a two-fold\n    ordinem cognitionis, non           order of knowledge, each of\n    solum principio, sed obiecto       which is distinct from the other\n    etiam distinctum: principio        both as to its principle and\n    quidem, quia in altero naturali    as to its object. As to its\n    ratione, in altero fide divina     principle, because in the one\n    cognoscimus; obiecto autem,        we know by natural reason, in\n    quia praeter ea, ad quae           the other by divine faith; as\n    naturalis ratio pertingere         to the object, because, besides\n    potest, credenda nobis             those things to which natural\n    proponuntur mysteria in Deo        reason can attain, there are\n    abscondita, quae, nisi revelata    proposed to our belief mysteries\n    divinitus, innotescere non         hidden in God which, unless\n    possunt. Quocirca Apostolus,       by him revealed, cannot come\n    qui a gentibus Deum per ea,        to our knowledge. Wherefore\n    quae facta sunt, cognitum          the same apostle, who beareth\n    esse testatur, disserens           witness that God was known to\n    tamen de gratia et veritate,       the Gentiles by the things that\n    quae per Iesum Christum facta      are made, yet when speaking of\n    est,[153] pronuntiat: Loquimur     the grace and truth that came\n    Dei sapientiam in mysterio,        by Jesus Christ, (John i. 17.)\n    quae abscondita est, quam          says, \"We speak the wisdom of\n    praedestinavit Deus ante saecula   God in a mystery, a wisdom which\n    in gloriam nostram, quam           is hidden; which God ordained\n    nemo principum huius saeculi       before the world unto our glory;\n    cognovit: nobis autem revelavit    which none of the princes of\n    Deus per Spiritum suum:            this world knew; but which God\n    Spiritus enim omnia scrutatur,     hath revealed to us by his\n    etiam profunda Dei.[154] Et        Spirit. For the Spirit searcheth\n    ipse Unigenitus confitetur         all things, yea the deep things\n    Patri, quia abscondit haec a       of God.\" (1 Cor. ii. 7, 8, 10.)\n    sapientibus et prudentibus, et     And the only-begotten Son thanks\n    revelavit ea parvulis.[155]        the Father that he has hid\n                                       these things from the wise and\n                                       prudent, and has revealed them\n                                       to little ones. (Matt. xi. 25.)\n\n    Ac ratio quidem, fide              Reason, indeed, enlightened\n    illustrata, cum sedulo, pie        by faith and seeking with\n    et sobrie quaerit, aliquam,        diligence and godly sobriety,\n    Deo dante, mysteriorum             may, by God's gift, come to\n    intelligentiam eamque              some understanding, limited in\n    fructuosissimam assequitur,        degree, but most wholesome in\n    tum ex eorum, quae naturaliter     its effects, of mysteries, both\n    cognoscit, analogia, tum e         from the analogy of things which\n    mysteriorum ipsorum nexu           are naturally known, and from\n    inter se et cum fine hominis       the connection of the mysteries\n    ultimo; nunquam tamen idonea       themselves with one another and\n    redditur ad ea perspicienda        with man's last end. But never\n    instar veritatum, qua proprium     can reason be rendered capable\n    ipsius obiectum constituunt.       of thoroughly understanding\n    Divina enim mysteria suapte        mysteries, as it does those\n    natura intellectum creatum sic     truths which form its proper\n    excedunt, ut etiam revelatione     object. For God's mysteries,\n    tradita et fide suscepta, ipsius   of their very nature, so far\n    tamen fidei velamine contecta et   surpass the reach of created\n    quadam quasi caligine obvoluta     intellect, that even when taught\n    maneant, quamdiu in hac mortali    by revelation, and received by\n    vita peregrinamur a Domino: per    faith, they remain covered by\n    fidem enim ambulamus, et non per   faith itself as by a veil, and\n    speciem.[156]                      shrouded as it were in darkness\n                                       as long as in this mortal life\n                                       \"we are absent from the Lord;\n                                       for we walk by faith, and not by\n                                       sight.\" (2 Cor. v. 6, 7.)\n\n    Verum etsi fides sit supra         But although faith be above\n    rationem, nulla tamen unquam       reason, there never can be\n    inter fidem et rationem vera       a real disagreement between\n    dissensio esse potest: cum idem    them, since the same God who\n    Deus, qui mysteria revelat et      reveals mysteries and infuses\n    fidem infundit, animo humano       faith has given to man's soul\n    rationis lumen indiderit;          the light of reason; and God\n    Deus autem negare seipsum          cannot deny himself nor can one\n    non possit, nec verum vero         truth ever contradict another.\n    unquam contradicere. Inanis        Wherefore the empty shadow\n    autem huius contradictionis        of such contradiction arises\n    species inde potissimum oritur,    chiefly from this, that either\n    quod vel fidei dogmata ad          the doctrines of faith are not\n    mentem Ecclesiae intellecta        understood and set forth as\n    et exposita non fuerint,           the church really holds them,\n    vel opinionum commenta pro         or that the vain devices and\n    rationis effatis habeantur.        opinions of men are mistaken\n    Omnem igitur assertionem           for the dictates of reason. We\n    veritati illuminatae fidei         therefore definitively pronounce\n    contrariam omnino falsam esse      false every assertion which is\n    definimus.[157] Porro Ecclesia,    contrary to the enlightened\n    quae una cum apostolico munere     truth of faith. (V. Lateran\n    docendi, mandatum accepit,         Counc. Bull _Apostolici\n    fidei depositum costodiendi,       Regiminis_.) Moreover the\n    ius etiam et officium divinitus    church, which, together with her\n    habet falsi nominis scientiam      apostolic office of teaching,\n    proscribendi, ne quis decipiatur   is charged also with the\n    per philosophiam, et inanem        guardianship of the deposit\n    fallaciam.[158] Quapropter omnes   of faith, holds likewise from\n    christiani fideles huiusmodi       God the right and the duty to\n    opiniones, quae fidei doctrinae    condemn \"knowledge falsely so\n    contrariae esse cognoscuntur,      called,\" (1 Tim. vi. 20,) \"lest\n    maxime si ab Ecclesia reprobatae   any man be cheated by philosophy\n    fuerint, non solum prohibentur     and vain deceit.\" (Col. ii. 8.)\n    tanquam legitimas scientiae        Hence all the Christian faithful\n    conclusiones defendere, sed pro    are not only forbidden to defend\n    erroribus potius, qui fallacem     as legitimate conclusions of\n    veritatis speciem prae se          science those opinions which\n    ferant, habere tenentur omnino.    are known to be contrary to the\n                                       doctrine of faith, especially\n                                       when condemned by the church,\n                                       but are rather absolutely bound\n                                       to hold them for errors wearing\n                                       a deceitful appearance of truth.\n\n    Neque solum fides et ratio         Not only is it impossible\n    inter se dissidere nunquam         for faith and reason ever to\n    possunt, sed opem quoque sibi      contradict each other, but they\n    mutuam ferunt, cum recta ratio     rather afford each other mutual\n    fidei fundamenta demonstret,       assistance. For right reason\n    eiusque lumine illustrata          establishes the foundations of\n    rerum divinarum scientiam          faith and by the aid of its\n    excolat; fides vero rationem ab    light cultivates the science\n    erroribus liberet ac tueatur,      of divine things; and faith,\n    eamque multiplici cognitione       on the other hand, frees and\n    instruat. Quapropter tantum        preserves reason from errors,\n    abest, ut Ecclesia humanarum       and enriches it with knowledge\n    artium et disciplinarum culturae   of many kinds. So far, then,\n    obsistat, ut hanc multis modis     is the church from opposing\n    iuvet atque promoveat. Non         the culture of human arts and\n    enim commoda ab iis ad hominum     sciences, that she rather\n    vitam dimanantia aut ignorat       aids and promotes it in many\n    aut despicit; fatetur imo, eas,    ways. For she is not ignorant\n    quemadmodum a Deo, scientiarum     of, nor does she despise the\n    Domino, profectae sunt, ita        advantages which flow from\n    si rite pertractentur, ad          them to the life of men; on\n    Deum, iuvante eius gratia,         the contrary, she acknowledges\n    perducere. Nec sane ipsa vetat,    that, as they sprang from God\n    ne huiusmodi disciplinae in suo    the Lord of knowledge, so, if\n    quaeque ambitu propriis utantur    they be rightly pursued, they\n    principiis et propria methodo;     will, through the aid of his\n    sed iustam hanc libertatem         grace, lead to God. Nor does she\n    agnoscens, id sedulo cavet, ne     forbid any of those sciences the\n    divinae doctrinae repugnando       use of its own principles and\n    errores in se suscipiant, aut      its own method within its own\n    fines proprios transgressae, ea,   proper sphere; but recognizing\n    quae sunt fidei, occupent et       this reasonable freedom, she\n    perturbent.                        only takes care that they may\n                                       not by contradicting God's\n                                       teaching, fall into errors, or,\n                                       overstepping their due limits,\n                                       invade and throw into confusion\n                                       the domain of faith.\n\n    Neque enim fidei doctrina,         For the doctrine of faith\n    quam Deus revelavit, velut         revealed by God has not\n    philosophicum inventum             been proposed, like some\n    proposita est humanis ingeniis     philosophical discovery, to be\n    perficienda, sed tanquam divinum   made perfect by human ingenuity;\n    depositum Christi Sponsae          but it has been delivered to the\n    tradita, fideliter custodienda     spouse of Christ as a divine\n    et infallibiliter declaranda.      deposit to be faithfully guarded\n    Hinc sacrorum quoque dogmatum is   and unerringly set forth. Hence\n    sensus perpetuo est retinendus,    all tenets of holy faith are to\n    quem semel declaravit Sancta       be explained always according\n    Mater Ecclesia, nec unquam ab eo   to the sense and meaning of the\n    sensu, altioris intelligentiae     church, nor is it ever lawful to\n    specie et nomine, recedendum.      depart therefrom, under pretence\n    Crescat igitur et multum           or color of more enlightened\n    vehementerque proficiat, tam       explanation. Therefore as\n    singulorum, quam omnium, tam       generations and centuries roll\n    unius hominis, quam totius         on, let the understanding,\n    Ecclesiae, aetatum ac saeculorum   knowledge, and wisdom of each\n    gradibus, intelligentia,           and every one, of individuals\n    scientia, sapientia: sed in        and of the whole church, grow\n    suo dumtaxat genere, in eodem      apace and increase exceedingly,\n    scilicet dogmate, eodem sensu,     yet only in its kind; that is\n    eademque sententia.[159]           to say, retaining pure and\n                                       inviolate the sense and meaning\n                                       and belief of the same doctrine.\n                                       (Vincent of Lerins. Common. No.\n                                       28.)\n\n\n    CANONES.                           CANONS.\n\n    I.                                 I.\n\n    DE DEO RERVM OMNIVM CREATORE.      OF GOD THE CREATOR OF ALL THINGS.\n\n    1. Si quis unum verum Deum         1. If any one shall deny the one\n    visibilium et invisibilium         true God, Creator and Lord of\n    Creatorem et Dominum negaverit;    things visible and invisible;\n    anathema sit.                      let him be anathema.\n\n    2. Si quis praeter materiam        2. If any one shall unblushingly\n    nihil esse affirmare non           affirm, that besides matter\n    erubuerit; anathema sit.           nothing else exists; let him be\n                                       anathema.\n\n    3. Si quis dixerit, unam           3. If any one shall say that the\n    eandemque esse Dei et rerum        substance or essence of God, and\n    omnium substantiam vel             of all things, is one and the\n    essentiam; anathema sit.           same; let him be anathema.\n\n    4. Si quis dixerit, res finitas,   4. If any one shall say that\n    tum corporeas tum spirituales,     finite things, both corporeal\n    aut saltem spirituales, e divina   and spiritual, or at least\n    substantia emanasse;               spiritual things, are emanations\n                                       of the divine substance;\n\n    aut divinam essentiam sui          Or that the divine essence by\n    manifestatione vel evolutione      manifestation or development of\n    fieri omnia;                       itself becomes all things;\n\n    aut denique Deum esse ens          Or, finally, that God is\n    universale seu indefinitum, quod   universal or indefinite Being,\n    sese determinando constituat       which, in determining itself,\n    rerum universitatem in genera,     constitutes all things, divided\n    species et individua distinctam;   into genera, species, and\n    anathema sit.                      individuals; let him be anathema.\n\n    5. Si quis non confiteatur,        5. If any one do not acknowledge\n    mundum, resque omnes, quae in eo   that the world, and all\n    continentur, et spirituales et     things which it contains,\n    materiales, secundum totam suam    both spiritual and material,\n    substantiam a Deo ex nihilo esse   were produced, in all their\n    productas;                         substance, by God, out of\n                                       nothing;\n\n    aut Deum dixerit non voluntate     Or shall say that God created\n    ab omni necessitate libera, sed    them, not of his own will, free\n    tam necessario creasse, quam       from all necessity, but through\n    necessario amat seipsum;           a necessity such as that whereby\n                                       he loves himself;\n\n    aut mundum ad Dei gloriam          Or shall deny that the world was\n    conditum esse negaverit;           created for the glory of God;\n    anathema sit.                      let him be anathema.\n\n\n    II.                                II.\n\n    DE REVELATIONE.                    OF REVELATION.\n\n    1. Si quis dixerit, Deum unum      1. If any one shall say that\n    et verum, Creatorem et Dominum     certain knowledge of the one\n    nostrum, per ea, quae facta        true God, our Creator and Lord,\n    sunt, naturali rationis humanae    cannot be attained by the\n    lumine certo cognosci non posse;   natural light of human reason\n    anathema sit.                      through the things that are\n                                       made; let him be anathema.\n\n    2. Si quis dixerit, fieri non      2. If any one shall say that it\n    posse, aut non expedire, ut        is impossible, or inexpedient,\n    per revelationem divinam homo      for man to be instructed by\n    de Deo, cultuque ei exhibendo      means of divine revelation, in\n    edoceatur; anathema sit.           those things that concern God\n                                       and the worship to be rendered\n                                       to him; let him be anathema.\n\n    3. Si quis dixerit, hominem ad     3. If any one shall say that man\n    cognitionem et perfectionem,       cannot, by the power of God,\n    quae naturalem superet,            be raised to a knowledge and\n    divinitus evehi non posse,         perfection which is above that\n    sed ex seipso ad omnis tandem      of nature; but that he can and\n    veri et boni possessionem iugi     ought of his own efforts, by\n    profectu pertingere posse et       means of constant progress, to\n    debere; anathema sit.              arrive at last to the possession\n                                       of all truth and goodness; let\n                                       him be anathema.\n\n    4. Si quis sacrae Scripturae       4. If any one shall refuse to\n    libros integros cum omnibus suis   receive for sacred and canonical\n    partibus, prout illos sancta       the books of holy Scripture in\n    Tridentina Synodus recensuit,      their integrity, with all their\n    pro sacris et canonicis non        parts, according as they were\n    susceperit, aut eos divinitus      enumerated by the holy Council\n    inspiratos esse negaverit;         of Trent;\n    anathema sit.\n                                       Or shall deny that they are\n                                       inspired by God; let him be\n                                       anathema.\n\n\n    III.                               III.\n\n    DE FIDE.                           OF FAITH.\n\n    1. Si quis dixerit, rationem       1. If any one shall say that\n    humanam ita independentem esse,    human reason is in such wise\n    ut fides ei a Deo imperari non     independent, that faith cannot\n    possit; anathema sit.              be demanded of it by God; let\n                                       him be anathema.\n\n    2. Si quis dixerit, fidem          2. If any one shall say that\n    divinam a naturali de Deo et       divine faith does not differ\n    rebus moralibus scientia non       from a natural knowledge of\n    distingui, ac propterea ad fidem   God, and of moral truths; and\n    divinam non requiri, ut revelata   therefore that for divine faith,\n    veritas propter auctoritatem Dei   it is not necessary to believe\n    revelantis credatur; anathema      revealed truth, on the authority\n    sit.                               of God who reveals it; let him\n                                       be anathema.\n\n    3. Si quis dixerit, revelationem   3. If any one shall say that\n    divinam externis signis            divine revelation cannot be\n    credibilem fieri non posse,        rendered credible by external\n    ideoque sola interna cuiusque      evidences; and therefore\n    experientia aut inspiratione       that men should be moved to\n    privata homines ad fidem moveri    faith only by each one's\n    debere; anathema sit.              interior experience or private\n                                       inspiration; let him be anathema.\n\n    4. Si quis dixerit, miracula       4. If any one shall say that no\n    nulla fieri posse, proindeque      miracles can be wrought; and\n    omnes de iis narrationes, etiam    therefore that all accounts of\n    in sacra Scriptura contentas,      such, even those contained in\n    inter fabulas vel mythos           the sacred Scripture, are to be\n    ablegandas esse; aut miracula      set aside as fables or myths; or\n    certo cognosci nunquam posse,      that miracles can never be known\n    nec iis divinam religionis         with certainty, and that the\n    christianae originem rite          divine origin of Christianity\n    probari; anathema sit.             cannot be truly proved by them;\n                                       let him be anathema.\n\n    5. Si quis dixerit, assensum       5. If any one shall say that\n    fidei christianae non esse         the assent of Christian faith\n    liberum, sed argumentis humanae    is not free, but is produced\n    rationis necessario produci; aut   necessarily by arguments of\n    ad solam fidem vivam, quae per     human reason; or that the grace\n    charitatem operatur, gratiam Dei   of God is necessary only for\n    necessariam esse; anathema sit.    living faith which worketh by\n                                       charity; let him be anathema.\n\n    6. Si quis dixerit, parem esse     6. If any one shall say that\n    conditionem fidelium atque         the condition of the faithful,\n    eorum, qui ad fidem unice          and of those who have not yet\n    veram nondum pervenerunt, ita      come to the only true faith,\n    ut catholici iustam causam         is equal, in such wise that\n    habere possint, fidem, quam        Catholics can have just reason\n    sub Ecclesiae magisterio iam       for withholding their assent,\n    susceperunt, assensu suspenso      and calling into doubt the faith\n    in dubium vocandi, donec           which they have received from\n    demonstrationem scientificam       the teaching of the church,\n    credibilitatis et veritatis        until they shall have completed\n    fidei suae absolverint; anathema   a scientific demonstration of\n    sit.                               the credibility and truth of\n                                       their faith; let him be anathema.\n\n\n    IV.                                IV.\n\n    DE FIDE ET RATIONE.                OF FAITH AND REASON.\n\n    1. Si quis dixerit, in             1. If any one shall say that\n    revelatione divina nulla vera      divine revelation includes no\n    et proprie dicta mysteria          mysteries, truly and properly\n    contineri, sed universa fidei      so called; but that all the\n    dogmata posse per rationem         dogmas of faith may, with the\n    rite excultam e naturalibus        aid of natural principles, be\n    principiis intelligi et            understood and demonstrated by\n    demonstrari; anathema sit.         reason duly cultivated; let him\n                                       be anathema.\n\n    2. Si quis dixerit, disciplinas    2. If any one shall say that\n    humanas ea cum libertate           human sciences ought to be\n    tractandas esse, ut earum          pursued in such a spirit\n    assertiones, etsi doctrinae        of freedom that one may be\n    revelatae adversentur, tanquam     allowed to hold, as true, their\n    verae retineri, neque ab           assertions, even when opposed\n    Ecclesia proscribi possint;        to revealed doctrine; and that\n    anathema sit.                      such assertions may not be\n                                       condemned by the church; let him\n                                       be anathema.\n\n    3. Si quis dixerit, fieri posse,   3. If any one shall say that it\n    ut dogmatibus ab Ecclesia          may at any time come to pass, in\n    propositis, aliquando secundum     the progress of science, that\n    progressum scientiae sensus        the doctrines set forth by the\n    tribuendus sit alius ab eo,        church must be taken in another\n    quem intellexit et intelligit      sense than that in which the\n    Ecclesia; anathema sit.            church has ever received and\n                                       yet receives them; let him be\n                                       anathema.\n\n    Itaque supremi pastoralis Nostri   Wherefore, fulfilling our\n    officii debitum exequentes,        supreme pastoral duty, we\n    omnes Christi fideles, maxime      beseech, through the bowels of\n    vero eos, qui praesunt vel         mercy of Jesus Christ, all the\n    docendi munere funguntur,          Christian faithful, and those\n    per viscera Iesu Christi           especially who are set over\n    obtestamur, nec non eiusdem Dei    others, or have the office of\n    et Salvatoris nostri auctoritate   teachers, and furthermore we\n    iubemus, ut ad hos errores a       command them, by authority of\n    Sancta Ecclesia arcendos et        the same our God and Saviour,\n    eliminandos, atque purissimae      to use all zeal and industry to\n    fidei lucem pandendam studium et   drive out and keep away from\n    operam conferant.                  holy church those errors, and to\n                                       spread abroad the pure light of\n                                       faith.\n\n    Quoniam vero satis non est,        And whereas it is not enough to\n    haereticam pravitatem devitare,    avoid heretical pravity, unless\n    nisi ii quoque errores             at the same time we carefully\n    diligenter fugiantur, qui ad       shun those errors which more\n    illam plus minusve accedunt;       or less approach to it; we\n    omnes officii monemus, servandi    admonish all, that it is their\n    etiam Constitutiones et            duty to observe likewise the\n    Decreta, quibus pravae eiusmodi    constitutions and decrees of\n    opiniones, quae isthic diserte     this holy see, by which wrong\n    non enumerantur, ab hac Sancta     opinions of the same kind, not\n    Sede proscriptae et prohibitae     expressly herein mentioned, are\n    sunt.                              condemned and forbidden.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[140] Is lix. 21.\n\n[141] Conc. Later. IV. c. 1. _Firmiter_.\n\n[142] Sap. viii. 1.\n\n[143] Cf. Hebr. iv. 13.\n\n[144] Rom. i. 20.\n\n[145] Hebr. i. 1, 2.\n\n[146] 1 Cor. ii. 9.\n\n[147] Conc. Trid. Sess. IV. Decr. de Can. Script.\n\n[148] Hebr. xi. 1.\n\n[149] Marc. xvi. 20.\n\n[150] 2 Petr. i. 19.\n\n[151] Syn. Araus. II. can. 7.\n\n[152] Is. xi. 12.\n\n[153] Ioan. i. 17.\n\n[154] 1 Cor. ii. 7, 8, 10.\n\n[155] Matth. xi. 25.\n\n[156] 2 Cor. v. 6, 7.\n\n[157] Conc. Lat. V. Bulla _Apostolici regiminis_.\n\n[158] Coloss. ii. 8.\n\n[159] Vinc. Lir. Common, n. 28.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\nVOL. XI., No. 64.--JULY, 1870.\n\n\nTHE CATHOLIC OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.\n\n\nThe Catholic, like the church, is one and the same in all ages\nand all times. As she came forth from the hands of her Architect\nfinished, complete, and perfect in every particular of solid\nstructure and exquisite adornment, in like manner the individual\nmember, if he be faithful to her tradition, practice, and direction,\nis, with the allowance of human infirmity, perfect and complete in\none age as well as another, without regard to local circumstances\nof civil government, education, exterior refinement, occupation,\ncomplexion, or race.\n\nReligion in its interior nature and intention has reference to the\nlife to come. The life to come is the complement of the present;\nas the religion of the Catholic Church is perfect, the future life\nwhich grows from the seeds planted in time must necessarily be\nabsolute perfection and unending satisfaction. The temporal fruit\nmust likewise become true material well-being, if its growth and\nperfection be not interrupted by adventitious causes.\n\nThe assertion of the absolute perfection of the Catholic religion,\nwith reference to time as well as eternity, is made with precisely\nthe same significance with which we assert the perfection of God.\nIt is made simply and boldly, without hesitation, qualification,\nor reserve, and it will be the basis of our argument, and the\nstarting-place for the views and opinions we propose to put forth. It\nis intended for Catholic eyes. The defence of the proposition is no\npart of our concern.\n\nWhen they who deny or dispute it shall have vanquished a single one\nof the great champions of our faith from Athanasius to Archbishop\nKenrick, from Cyril of Alexandria to Archbishop Spaulding of\nBaltimore, picked up the glove which Dr. Brownson has flung down upon\nthe field of controversy, replied to Wiseman, refuted Manning, and\nsilenced Newman, it will be time enough for us to begin to consider\nthe measures necessary for making good the position we have chosen.\n\nPlacing ourselves distinctly upon the proposition, we invite\nattention to certain relations which the Catholic of to-day holds\ntoward his race, his country, his age, and the particular order and\ncondition denominated progress, and the spirit of the nineteenth\ncentury.\n\nIt becomes necessary under these aspects to consider him as a\ndutiful subject of the head of the church, and a loyal citizen of an\nindependent state; as a freeman, and one bound by supreme authority;\nas recognizing and obeying reason, and, in the free exercise of that\nroyal faculty of the soul, surrendering certain prerogatives of\nprivate judgment to infallibility; as subject and at the same time\nsovereign, both obeying and commanding; submissive to the laws and\nacknowledging the supremacy of a higher law, which he is prepared\nto vindicate with property, liberty, and life, if the two come in\nconflict upon any vital point in which he or the church is concerned,\nin the nineteenth century, precisely as he did in the first, the\nsecond, or the third century.\n\nThe most obvious, interesting, and important view of the Catholic\nin his relations to the century is that of voter. Suffrage, or\nthe privilege of voting for our rulers, and indirectly making the\nlaws by which we are to be governed, is not a natural right. It is\nan acquired privilege, and only becomes a right when conveyed and\nacknowledged by competent authority. Once obtained, it cannot be\nabrogated, and can only be lost by revolution, the fruit of gross\npolitical misconduct, or by voluntary neglect and disuse.\n\nThe right of suffrage bestows special prerogatives upon its\npossessors. It superadds legislative and magisterial functions to the\nobligations of private obedience; it communicates grace and dignity\nto the manly character, imposes definite and heavy responsibilities\nupon each individual, requires the humblest citizen to participate\nin the dignity of the highest offices, and holds the most exalted\npersonages to a distinct accountability to the people. It permits\nevery Catholic to share actively in the plans, policy, and beneficent\nenterprises of the church, and enables him in some sense to take\npart in the divine government of the universe, physical and moral.\n\nIt is a specific and precious gift bestowed on Catholics in this age\nand country, and we are compelled to stand in the full blaze of the\nlight of the nineteenth century, which is rolling out its illuminated\nscroll before our dazzled eyes and almost bewildered understandings,\ncharged with the manifold blessings or curses which must flow from\nthe use or abuse of this momentous, one might almost say holy and\nhierarchical function.\n\nAn offer and promise are as distinctly made to the Catholics of this\nage as they were to the chosen people when released from the Egyptian\nbondage. A land of promise, a land flowing with milk and honey, is\nspread out before them, and offered for their acceptance.\n\nThe means placed at their disposal for securing this rich possession\nare not the sword, or wars of extermination waged against the enemies\nof their religion, but instead, the mild and peaceful influence\nof the ballot, directed by instructed Catholic conscience and\nenlightened Catholic intelligence.\n\nA careful consideration of this subject is particularly important at\nthe present epoch and century.\n\nThe nineteenth century is interesting to us because it is _ours_;\nbecause it is the expression and exponent of much that has been\ndark and obscure in the past, because it is the most fruitful and\nbountiful in material resources and advantages of any of which we\npossess authentic knowledge, because it shines glorious amidst the\ncenturies by its own intrinsic light, and by the light derived from\nmodern discoveries, investigations, and interpretations thrown back\nupon the past, and by it reflected in turn upon the present. It is\nespecially important to us as Catholics, inasmuch as it seems to be\na critical era in the religious history of the human race, and to\nhave been selected by Providence as a new point of departure in many\nimportant particulars of his dealings with mankind.\n\nThe radical questions of the relations between the supernatural\nand the natural, faith and reason, Rome and the world, justice and\ninjustice; between the material and transitory, and the immaterial\nand permanent; between that which is unchangeable in principle and\nthose things which are progressive in action; between church and\nstate, God and man, are sharply defined, boldly stated, pushed to\ntheir ultimate, logical, and practical extremes, and presented with\nall the arguments, inducements, promises, and threatenings of the\nmost learned and eloquent advocates of the opposing causes to each\nindividual Catholic for his election.\n\nThe issue is as distinctly placed before his mind as it was in\nthe case of our first parents in Eden, of Europe in the religious\nrevolution of the sixteenth century, of England in the days of Henry\nVIII. and his anti-Catholic successors.\n\nIt is a question of instant and pressing importance, which demands\nan immediate and definite answer. It must be met and answered by\nthe Catholic of to-day, since to him are committed the obligation\nand business of perpetuating and regenerating society, purifying\nlegislation, enforcing the administration of the laws, and setting\nan example of private and public virtue, justice, moderation, and\nforbearance. He has been furnished with an omnipotent weapon with\nwhich to accomplish this great work, and he is provided with an\nunerring guide to direct him in the administration of these important\ntrusts. We do not hesitate to affirm that in performing our duties\nas citizens, electors, and public officers, we should always and\nunder all circumstances act simply as Catholics; that we should be\ngoverned and directed by the immutable principles of our religion,\nand should take dogmatic faith and the conclusions drawn from it, as\nexpressed and defined in Catholic philosophy, theology, and morality,\nas the only rule of our private, public, and political conduct. Those\nthings which are condemned by Catholic justice, we should condemn;\nthose things which are affirmed, we should affirm.\n\nThere can be no circumstance, condition, or relation in which the\nCatholic is left without his guide, and there is absolutely no excuse\nif he fail in the performance of this duty, upon which rests the\nfuture prosperity of civilized society.\n\nWhile insisting on the dignity and obligations of suffrage, it\nmay perhaps be necessary to observe that the church prescribes no\nspecific form of government. Government itself is required under some\nform, for the reason that we are created and fulfil our allotted\ndestiny under the operation of an organic law which we have the\npower, and under certain circumstances the disposition, to violate.\n\nWe have no power to annul or abrogate the organic law, and its\nviolation in virtue of its own nature, and our responsibility entails\nspecific penalties in time, and, as it is eternal in its origin and\naction, eternity. The superiority of the human race, and the merit\nand honor of obedience, reside in the power of choice, and the\nability which we possess to decide our temporal and eternal destiny,\nand renew and perfect, or reject and obliterate our relations with\nthe Creator. A happy, prosperous, and peaceful temporal condition\nis not guaranteed, nor is it essential to true well-being but\nthese most desirable concomitants of earthly existence necessarily\naccompany and flow from the enforcement of the requirements of the\norganic law upon our own conduct and that of others less disposed to\nobey them.\n\nAll human government rests upon this basis, whether of patriarch,\nprophet, priest, king, chieftain, pope, bishop, emperor, or people in\norganized assembly.\n\nThe principle underlying every form of government is that of command\nand obedience, because the government of the universe is one of\nlaw. Both command and obedience are of the same nature and alike\nhonorable, because there can be but one source of law, and that is\nGod; and he in his humanity obeyed the laws of his own creation in\nhis divinity, and personally fulfilled the obligations of his own\nimposition. Who is he who despises obedience, when the Son of Man\nbecame obedient to the death of the cross?\n\nAll legislation in harmony with the organic law is theocratic and\ndivine; all in violation or opposition, precisely in the measure\nand degree of departure, unjust, cruel, tyrannical, false, vain,\nunstable, and weak, and not entitled to respect or obedience.\n\nSince justice and our honor and dignity require that we should obey\nGod, and not man, we are compelled by every reasonable motive to\nascertain his will. He does not communicate personally and orally\nwith creatures.\n\nUnless we have the means of ascertaining with certainty what his\nwishes are on a given subject, whether of the private practice\nof virtue or the administration of a public duty, we are left to\nthe direction of opinions, interests, and passions more or less\nsuperficially instructed and enlightened, and tend inevitably toward\nbarbarism, despotism, and social and political disorganization. The\nCatholic Church is the medium and channel through which the will of\nGod is expressed. The chain of communication, composed of the triple\nstrand of revelation, inspiration, and faith, stretches underneath\nthe billows of eternity to the shore of time, from the throne of God\nto the chair of Peter. The finger of the pope, like the needle in the\ncompass, invariably points to the pole of eternal truth, and the mind\nof the sovereign pontiff is as certain to reflect the mind and will\nof God as the mirror at one end of a submarine cable to indicate the\nelectric signal made at the other.\n\nThe will of God is expressed as plainly through the church as it was\nthrough Moses and the tables of the law. It is distinct, definite,\nintelligible, and precise, and we are bound to execute the will thus\nexpressed, and act in the light of the intelligence thus supplied.\n\nAll legislation which has stood the test of time has flowed from the\ndivinely-inspired fountain of natural justice, illuminated by her\nwisdom, corrected by her experience, interpreted by her theology\nand philosophy. All tyranny, injustice, force, cruelty, violence,\nand oppression follow as the result of violation of the organic law\nas interpreted by the church, or from systems of legislation in\nopposition to, or abrogation of, her eternal principles.\n\nWhile immunity from temporal suffering is nowhere promised, it is\nnevertheless true that the greater portion of evils and sorrows are\ncapable of prevention or relief.\n\nWealth can be deprived of its satiety, poverty of its sting, labor of\nits pain, ease of its slothfulness, learning of its pride, power of\nits arrogance, ignorance of its stupidity.\n\nBut though we expect no natural Utopia or earthly paradise, we are no\nless bound to oppose and correct vices, sorrows, evils, dangers, and\noppressions, as they spring, ever fierce and relentless, with their\ncountless heads, whether personal, social, national, or legislative.\n\nThe Catholic armed with his vote becomes the champion of faith, law,\norder, social and political morality, and Christian civilization, no\nless--in fact, a greater degree, for our present enemies are more\ndangerous--than his ancestor who hung a wallet over his leathern\njerkin, and, shouldering his halberd, followed the lord of the manor\nto Palestine; than he who aided the Catholic Ferdinand and Isabella\nto drive the Moor from the soil of Christian Spain, or, under John\nSobieski, rolled back the tide of Mohammedan invasion from the\nEuropean shores of the Mediterranean.\n\nHe goes forth furnished with this weapon, which, faithfully and\nhonorably employed, must become invincible, arrest the swollen\ncurrent of corruption, crime, and lawlessness which threatens to\nsweep away religion, morality, and liberty, insure the pre\u00ebminence\nof law, order, and republican institutions, preserve and perfect the\nresults of material and natural science, put an end to poverty in\nits abject and hopeless forms, and banish suffering from unrelieved\nwant, and develop and complete a system of jurisprudence which shall\nsustain what the world has not yet seen, a pure republic of equal\nrights, exact justice, and assured temporal prosperity, presided\nover, influenced, and informed by true religion.\n\nThe great and undeniably wonderful and valuable fruits of human\ngenius and materialistic science, may be utilized to meet the ends\nof ideal justice, and true individual and national prosperity and\nhappiness.\n\nWith the means of instant intelligent communication and rapid\ntransportation, it is not an impossibility to hope that the head of\nthe church may again become the acknowledged head of the reunited\nfamily of Christian nations; the arbiter and judge between princes\nand peoples, between government and government, the exponent of the\nsupreme justice and highest law, in all important questions affecting\nthe rights, the interests, and the welfare of communities and\nindividuals.\n\nUnder such a system, force would give place to reason; the nations\nwould learn war no more, and a general disarmament could be safely\nimposed. The door of the temple of the demon god of war, which has\nstood open since Cain imbrued his fratricidal hands in the blood of\nAbel, would be closed for ever.\n\n            \"Yea, truth and justice then,\n            Will down return to men,\n    Orbed in a rainbow; and, like glories wearing,\n            Mercy will sit between,\n            Throned in celestial sheen,\n    With radiant feet the tissued clouds down-steering,\n      And heaven, as at some festival,\n      Will open wide the gates of her high palace hall.\"\n\nAlthough we are far from expecting a result grand, glorious, and\nwonderful, realizing in the highest degree the promise made to the\nhuman race if faithful to the object of their creation, still we do\nnot hesitate to assert that it is within the power of the ballot,\nwielded by Catholic hands and directed by Catholic conscience, to\naccomplish as much and more.\n\nIt is no more than the church has a right to expect from her\nsubjects; it is no more than they owe her and themselves; it would be\na triumph worthy of the nineteenth century, and worthy of a fallen\nrace deemed worthy to be redeemed by the blood of a God.\n\nThe two great questions of marriage and education present themselves\nin a discussion of the relations which the Catholic sustains toward\ncivil society, as elements of prime and indispensable importance.\nThere can be no permanent Christian society, no civilized and\nenduring government, which are not perpetuated by Catholic marriage,\nelevated, instructed, and disciplined by Catholic education. The\ngreat civilizations which have arisen and flourished independently,\nvitalized by the tradition of primitive revelation, are wanting\nor have forfeited the characteristics of true civilization. Many\nhave perished; others have reached their term, and the hour of\ntheir destruction is at hand. The ancient and most remarkable\nsocial, civil, and religious polity of India is withering under the\nremorseless touch of English rule, and China is destined to succumb\nto steam, machinery, railroads, and sewing-machines.\n\nNothing but the pure gold of Catholicity can withstand the material\nflame which burns brightest and hottest in the nineteenth century,\nand it may only survive stripped of every earthly and human quality,\nattribute, and advantage.\n\nIt is not in our power at this time to follow the line of reflection\nsuggested by the great unchristian and anti-christian civilizations,\nthe Indian, the Persian, the Chinese, and the Mohammedan; but we must\nconfine ourselves to the proposition which their history, brilliant,\nstartling, and splendid though it be, and, to superficial human\nviews, does not in any degree invalidate, that true civilization\nrests for its foundation upon Catholic marriage and Catholic\neducation.\n\nIn contradistinction from suffrage, which is an acquired privilege,\nmarriage is a _natural_ right. Its regulation and control belong\nexclusively to the church, and are particularly her care and\nprerogative under the supernatural order.\n\nMarriage is the sacrament of nature, as well as one of grace, and\nthe church insists upon her rightful control, because she depends\nupon this sacrament not only for perpetuity on earth, but for her\neternal representation. She regulates the conditions of marriage\nand witnesses the contract in whose fulfilment she has such a vital\ninterest, and she becomes the arbiter between the contracting parties\nin the subsequent stages of their career. She claims its offspring\nat their birth, and immediately impresses upon them the seal of her\nproprietorship in baptism; she accompanies them throughout their\nlives, and dismisses them with unction and benediction; she follows\nthem into the unseen world, and does not relax her grasp till they\nattain their fruition and become in turn protectors and benefactors\nof the mother who has given them both natural and supernatural birth.\nMarriage is the crystal fountain on earth whence flows the perennial\nliving stream which fertilizes and makes glad the plains of heaven.\n\nThe Catholic view, or Christian idea of marriage, implies by\nnecessity the Catholic view of all the relations and obligations\ngrowing out of it: the education of the young, the custody of\nfoundlings and orphans, and all measures of correction and\nreformation applicable to youthful offenders and disturbers of the\npeace of society.\n\nThe same view would consign to her care the permanent infants of\nsociety, the idiotic, those defective in important organs or senses,\nthe insane, the criminal, the sick poor, and the helpless and\nwretched of every class. The church is capable, through her orders\nand congregations of men and women, of undertaking these trusts.\nThere is in this work occupation for all who have not definite\nvocations, and for the aid and assistance of those who have. It is\na species of labor which has never been efficiently and completely\nperformed, and can only be accomplished by those who undertake\nit under the direction of religion from the motive of heroic and\nsupernatural charity. No compensation, no hope of human reward or\npraise, can procure such service, tenderness, and succor as that\nwhich the unpaid and nameless religious bestows upon the poor and\nnameless cast-away, for the sake of the humanity of Christ.\n\nThe function of education is most closely connected with the\nauthority claimed and exercised over marriage. The custodian of the\ntree has certainly the right to the fruit of the tree, and to protect\nit from wayfarers and robbers.\n\nThe control and prevention of poverty is an example of the profound\nscience of political economy which is manifested by the church. No\nstate can flourish where hopeless poverty becomes an institution.\n\nA godless system of education, or, what is the same thing, an\nuncatholic system, is the more refined and elegant but not less\ncertain method of modern times of offering our children to Moloch,\nand causing our sons to pass through the fire. The right which\nthe church exerts over education does not in any manner impair\nor contravene the legitimate authority of parents; but, on the\ncontrary, strengthens and supports it, since it is an assertion of\nthe principle of authority and the final obligations toward God due\nfrom both parents and children. It asserts the rights of parents and\nthe right which children have to Christian education. Every human\ncreature born into the world has the inalienable right of knowing and\nobeying the truth, and seeking to attain its own eternal happiness.\n\nWhile parents have rights over their children, children, in turn,\nhave rights as respects their parents, and the chief of these is\nChristian education.\n\nThe church asserts and defends these principles, and she flatly\ncontradicts the assumption on the part of the state of the\nprerogative of education, and determinedly opposes the effort to\nbring up the youth of the country for purely secular and temporal\npurposes. The state is in its nature godless and material, and,\nin accordance with its nature, seeks only material ends. No state\nor nation as such has a supernatural destiny; its rewards and\npunishments are temporary and finite, and its views, policy, and\nconduct short-sighted, corrupt, and selfish. While the state has\nrights, she has them only in virtue and by permission of the superior\nauthority, and that authority can only be expressed through the\nchurch, that is, through the organic law infallibly announced and\nunchangeably asserted, regardless of temporal consequences. The\nchurch yields, however, to temporal conditions as far as she can\nwithout departing from her organic principle. She resembles a mighty\ntree tossed by the winds, and apparently yielding to the tempest from\nwhatever quarter it comes, but never giving up its roots, firmly\nfixed in the ground, and stretching their fibres far out under the\nsurface of things. If she could be moved from her position, torn up\nby the roots, rifted from her organic basis on the rock of Peter,\nshe would cease to be the church, become a human and fallible\ninstitution, and entitled to no more consideration than any other\nhuman organization or voluntary society. The hostile and opposing\nforces recognize distinctly the value and importance to us of the\ntwo fundamental institutions, marriage and education. Their efforts\nare particularly directed at the present time, and in this country,\nto corrupt and undermine the one and usurp complete control over the\nother. The attitude of the church on these questions is the cause\nof nearly all the opposition she encounters, of the secret and open\nattacks she suffers, and of most of the great persecutions she has\nexperienced. She is attacked in respect to marriage by sensuality,\nand in regard to education by the arrogance of the state, and the\njealousy which human power always manifests of the divine authority.\n\nThe order, regularity, charity, and chastity required in marriage by\nthe church--and of which she is the emblem--are repudiated by the\nworld.\n\nThis repudiation is manifested by sensuality in its protean forms,\nfrom platonic love and sentimental and religious melancholy,\nall through the descending scale of folly, vice, and crime to\nthe lowest depths, whither the mind refuses to follow and where\ndemons veil their faces, and by legislation the result of this\nopposition, such as is expressed in the laxity of divorce laws, and\na public sentiment which sanctions and countenances divorce and the\nmarriage of divorced parties. It is more or less boldly or covertly\nexpressed in almost the whole range of anti-catholic and uncatholic\nliterature, and in the increasing license of conversation, manners,\nand amusements. Marriage has lost its dignity and sanctity by being\ndivested of its sacramental character, and its manifest and natural\nduties and obligations are shunned, despised, and disregarded by\na large proportion of those living in outward regard for decorum\nand morality. The spirit of the nineteenth century, unchastened by\nCatholicity, by whatever sounding title it may be called--progress,\nliberty, emancipation of the intellect, dignity of the race,\nindependence of science--is a spirit of gross, cruel, and irrational\nsensuality, which tends directly and inevitably toward ignorance,\nbondage, anarchy, and barbarism, and consequent stupidity.\n\nStupidity may, perhaps, be considered the lowest hell of a creature\noriginally constituted _active_ and _intellectual_.\n\nIt is directly against these elements, whose consequences she\ndistinctly foresees, that the church opposes her laws of marriage,\nand the absolute supernatural chastity of her priests and religious.\n\nIt is not that she forbids marriage, as she is sometimes accused,\nthat she offers to certain persons the privilege of electing a\nsuperior state and beginning on earth the life of heaven, but in\norder to provide herself with angels and ministers of grace to do her\nwill, accomplish her work, perform her innumerable acts of spiritual\nand corporeal mercy, and be literally the godfathers and godmothers\nto the orphaned human race, while they obtain for themselves and\nothers countless riches of merit. The spirit which we reprobate\nsubstitutes lust for love, philanthropy for charity. By subtracting\ncharity from marriage, it virtually divorces the married, and leads\ndirectly to the destruction of the species. The children whom it\npermits to survive it educates for material and temporal objects\nalone, and the most noble destiny it has to offer is death on the\nfield of battle; its highest reward, a short-lived, temporal honor,\nand a brief posthumous reputation. The pursuits of honor, of science,\nliterature and art, are noble, and in some degree satisfying. They\nare, when true and real, Catholic in their nature, and the growth\nof Catholic soil. Whenever--as in pre-Christian times--they become\ndetached from original revelation, or, in modern, divorced from or\nhostile to Catholic inspiration, they incline toward cruelty, false\nscience or incomplete science, and in literature and art to decay.\nThe inevitable tendency of incomplete science, that is, imperfect\nfrom a radical defect, like a defective formula in mathematics, is\nto error, obscurity, and confusion. The absence of the supernatural\nelement is the radical defect in all uncatholic natural and\nmetaphysical science; and every superstructure erected upon it,\nhowever splendid in appearance, is built upon the sand.\n\nThe reason why civil marriage, state religion and education, natural\nsociety, and material science do not become more rapidly corrupt,\nand manifest more speedily their inherent defects, is on account of\nthe vast amount of latent Catholicity which they retain, and without\nwhich they could not survive a single day.\n\nIt is the tendency of the natural to consume the supernatural, in its\nefforts to attain its destiny, and, unless fed by new infusions of\nthe divine element, to sink lower and lower toward the abyss.\n\nIt is the function of the supernatural society, that is, the church\nthrough her ministry and sacraments, to furnish continual supplies of\nthis divine element, to antagonize the decomposition which followed\nclose upon the steps of the terrible twin brethren, sin and death,\nwhen they entered the world; renew the almost exhausted life of the\nsoul, and enable it to rise higher and higher, till it is absorbed\nonce more into the source of life eternal, from whence it sprang.\n\nThe more respectable and conservative of the uncatholic institutions,\nwhich retain most of the latent Catholicity not yet expended in three\ncenturies of separation from the parent fountain, preserve many\nCatholic ideas, customs, and forms of speech and action.\n\nSuch publications as the _New-Englander_, the _Princeton_,\n_Mercersburg_, and _North British Reviews_, advocate to a great\nextent the Christian doctrines of marriage and education, and the\nsuperiority of religion in all temporal and secular affairs, and\ndeprecate, without the power to remedy or arrest, the evils which\nthey acknowledge to exist.\n\nThe advanced portion of the opposing forces, they who have expended\ntheir latent Catholicity, denied the faith and impugned the truth,\nand sunk to the lowest level compatible with life, do not seek\nto defend their position by any hollow appeals to religion or\nconscience, but boldly deny all authority excepting their own\ndepraved wills.\n\nRed-republicanism, Fourierism, communism, free love, Mormonism, the\nOneida community, the false sciences of mesmerism and phrenology,\nspiritism and sentimental philanthropy, are exemplary expressions\nof the forms which sensuality and the denial of authority assume in\ntheir retrograde metamorphoses.\n\nThe woman's rights movement is the most subtle, dangerous, and\ntreacherous of the later manifestations of the evil spirit of the\nnineteenth century.\n\nIt is more threatening to the public peace than the abolition\nagitation was at its commencement, and is fostered and fomented by\nthe same or kindred influences, and under some one or other of its\nforms and phases comprehends every falsehood, error, delusion, and\nheresy, from the original lie uttered in Eden to the last invented\nand promulgated by the Satanic press. It has a certain, irresistible\ntendency to vitiate suffrage, degrade legislation, disturb society,\nabolish religion, superinduce crime, disease, insanity, idiocy,\nphysical decay, deformity, suicide and early death, abrogate\nmatrimony and extinguish the race.\n\nEvery count in this terrible charge is capable of being sustained\nby the most abundant evidence in history, analogy, facts of daily\nexperience, the declarations of religion, and evidences of the legal\nand medical sciences.\n\nIt is absolutely anti-catholic and unchristian, and could not exist,\nmuch less flourish, in an age not far gone on the road to ruin.\n\nIt is the Catholic Church, and she alone, which guarantees\nthe rights, freedom, and honor of women. She raises them to a\nparticipation in her ministry and apostleship, and pledges herself\nand all the power of heaven to the protection of the humblest as well\nas the most exalted of the sex, in her rights and dignity as woman,\nwife, and mother. She has suffered persecution and dismemberment\nrather than yield an iota of the vested rights of helpless woman; she\nhas decreed the immaculate conception, the most perfect testimony of\nthe exalted function of maternity and the crowning human glory of\nthe sex, and raised one of their number to be queen of heaven, the\ncrowning superhuman glory.\n\nAll that woman can claim is accorded to her by the church, and\nasserted as her indefeasible right. The only security for woman, her\nonly refuge from the artifice of men and the undeniable oppression\nof society, is in the church, and the legislation deduced from the\noriginal organic law; in the inviolability of the marriage contract,\nand the sacramental character of marriage.\n\nThe difficult and vexed question of mixed education obtrudes itself\nupon our attention at every step of a discussion like the one in\nwhich we are engaged. It is not our purpose to enter upon its details\nat present. The chief pastors in solemn council assembled will\nundoubtedly decide upon the line of conduct most expedient for us to\nfollow. While asserting the absolute dependence of natural science\nfor its truth and perpetuity upon divine illumination, we do not\nintend to disparage human learning and the pursuits of philosophy\nand science. Philosophy on the intellectual and natural sciences is\nthe most elevating and ennobling of human employments. As truth is\nsimple in its nature and essence, every truth discovered, learned,\nand elaborated tends to draw the soul toward God. There is and can be\nno quarrel or discrepancy between revelation and science. The truths\nof revelation and the truths of science tend infallibly toward mutual\nillustration and final unity. It is only the effect of false science\nor imperfect science to divert the mind from God, the origin of\ntruth, or truth itself, and enter upon the path which leads to error,\ndoubt, ignorance, and darkness.\n\nThe supremacy asserted for the church in matters of education\nimplies the additional and cognate function of the censorship of\nideas, and the right to examine and approve or disapprove all\nbooks, publications, writings, and utterances intended for public\ninstruction, enlightenment, or entertainment, and the supervision of\nplaces of amusement.\n\nThis is the principle upon which the church has acted in handing over\nto the civil authority for punishment _criminals in the order of\nideas_.\n\nIt is the principle upon which every civilized government acts in\nemergencies, and it was asserted rigorously and unsparingly North and\nSouth during the recent revolution. It is the principle upon which\na father would act in expelling summarily and ignominiously from\nhis house a person detected in corrupting the minds, manners, and\nmorals of his children. It is in fact nothing more than the principle\nof self-preservation, which is the first law of nature. It is not\nnecessary to raise the question whether this principle has been\nabused by individuals for mistaken or corrupt objects. It is safe to\nsay that it has been. The admission in no way invalidates the right\nand obligation involved. There are few good things which men have not\nabused.\n\nCrimes, cruelties, oppressions and persecutions (especially in the\norder of ideas) are laid at the door of the Catholic Church, which\nare the fruit of human passion, avarice, ambition, and resentment,\nand that strange and devilish infatuation of cruelty which sometimes\nseizes upon a whole community, and which is analogous to the\ndestructive and suicidal insanities of individuals. The church,\nhowever, in her official and organic character, has never abused this\nprinciple or any other, whether of discipline or policy. These moral\nand political catastrophes are wholly independent of Catholicity, are\nin direct violation of religion, and in disobedience to the commands\nand entreaties of the church.\n\nGovernment and legislation informed, directed, and guided by Catholic\njustice is the most humane, benignant, equal, just, merciful,\nand forbearing of any that can possibly exist, and the temporal\ngovernment of the head of the church is to-day the best in the world.\n\nThese subjects bring us back to the question of suffrage, and to the\nCatholic as voter. It is necessary that we should have just laws,\nprimarily and immediately in regard to education and marriage, and\nthat they should have the sanction of sound public opinion, without\nwhich the best laws are inoperative.\n\nThese laws must grow out of the Catholic conscience of the community,\nif they are to grow at all.\n\nThe labor of strengthening these foundations of society belongs\nto the Catholic voter, and to him we must look for future safety,\npeace, and permanence. Every principle of justice is assailed, every\nbulwark is undermined.\n\nSocial eminence, literary ability, exalted political station, and\nso-called religion combine to give public sanction to unblushing and\nmonstrous adultery, and brand the scarlet letter upon a soul already\ncrimson with guilt as it trembles on the verge of eternity.\n\nEvery species and form of vice, crime, and corruption are paraded\nand presented under disguises, more or less specious or flimsy, of\nscience, literature, religion, or art.\n\nThe old are divested of gravity and reserve, and the young have lost\nthe freshness, the sweetness, the innocence, the candor, and the\nbloom which should belong to youth.\n\nThe burlesque is invoked with horrid incantation to degrade the\nreason, paralyze the understanding, and brutalize the imagination,\nand oriental lasciviousness to apply the torch of passion to the\nintellectual and moral ruins.\n\nCurrent literature is penetrated with the spirit of licentiousness,\nfrom the pretentious quarterly to the arrogant and flippant daily\nnewspaper, and the weekly and monthly publications are mostly heathen\nor maudlin. They express and inculcate, on the one hand, stoical,\ncold, and polished pride of mere intellect, or, on the other, empty\nand wretched sentimentality. Some employ the skill of the engraver to\ncaricature the institutions and offices of our religion, and others\nto exhibit the grossest forms of vice and the most distressing scenes\nof crime and suffering.\n\nThe illustrated press has become to us what the amphitheatre was to\nthe Romans when men were slain, women were outraged, and Christians\ngiven to the lions to please a degenerate populace.\n\nIt is obvious, then, if what we have said be true, that there is a\ngreat work for the Catholic voter to perform.\n\nThe Constitution and Declaration of Independence guarantee life,\nliberty, and the pursuit of happiness. The Catholic values his life\nthat he may devote it to the service of the church, and, if required,\noffer it for her safety and honor; liberty, to be and remain\nCatholic, enjoy freedom in the exercise of his religion, and transmit\nthis priceless inheritance unimpaired to his descendants; the pursuit\nof happiness, that he may attain the happiness of heaven!\n\nThe Catholic voter meditates no invasion of vested rights. The\nconstitution and government of the United States have the approval of\nthe holy see. The Catholic is satisfied with the laws of his country,\nand only dissatisfied with local legislation, which contravenes the\nimplied pledges of the constitution and the common law, based upon\nthe canon law.\n\nHe demands nothing that natural justice and the legitimate\ninterpretation of the constitution do not guarantee him. Freedom in\nreligion entitles him to protection against open and secret attacks\nupon what he holds most dear, under the guise of state education, and\nwhich are invariably made in every system of uncatholic or infidel\neducation. The great majority of English-speaking Catholics have had\na personal and national experience of the bitter fruit of systems of\neducation divorced from the control of the church, and in the French\nrevolution they recognize the results of infidel science, literature,\nand sentiment practically applied to the reformation of society.\nFrance gave the world a terrible illustration of the violent, frantic\ncreed and futile efforts which humanity makes when it would be\nsufficient for itself and become its own redeemer. France almost\nexpired. Her Catholicity alone saved her. The Goths and Vandals\nentered Paris, but were compelled to retire. They entered ancient\nRome, and remained.\n\nWith these truths, lessons, and experiences before his mind, the\nCatholic anxiously considers the subject of public education, and is\nresolved when the question is adjudicated to sustain the decision\nof the church. If he cannot peacefully enact legitimate, equal, and\njust regulations, he will consent to bear, as he has done before,\na double burden; but he, for his part, will make sure that his\nchildren are taught to discriminate between the specious and false\nassertions which are put forth as history and history itself, between\nhuman philanthropy and divine charity, between communism and the\ncommunion of saints, between spiritism and those things which are\nspiritual, between pure, noble, and lovely sentiments and a rotting\nsentimentalism, between the false and the true, injustice and\njustice, the human and the divine.\n\nBy an extraordinary example of divine justice, and the operation of\nthe law of compensation, the men and their descendants who uprooted\nCatholicity in England and Ireland; who extinguished, as far as they\nwere able, Catholic literature and tradition; who destroyed the\nvenerable seats of learning and charity, sacked the monasteries and\ndespoiled the abbeys, were compelled to prepare a home for Catholics,\nand establish a political order most acceptable to them, and capable\nunder Catholic auspices of attaining the highest degree of temporal\nhappiness and prosperity.\n\nThe men who composed the Protector's famous Ironsides levelled the\nNew England forests and subdued the savage, and now in every city,\nvillage, and hamlet of this fair land the cross which they tore\ndown again rises aloft, the first to kindle in the saluting beams\nof the morning sun, the last to detain his parting lingering rays,\nand thousands of happy, prosperous people the descendants of those\nwhom Cromwell's dragoons trampled under their bloody hoofs, assemble\naround that altar and assist at that mass which he could not abide.\n\nThe grim old regicide who sleeps his last sleep on the green behind\nCentre church, in New Haven, if he could rise from his grave some\npleasant Sunday morning, would believe that time and old ocean had\nboth been rolled away, and that he was in merry, happy Catholic\nEngland of five hundred years ago.\n\nThe past has been vindicated; wrongs have been righted.\n\nThe uncompromising defence of the rights of Queen Catharine is\njustified. The Goddess of Reason, in the person of a prostitute,\nenthroned on the high altar of Notre Dame, has given place to a\nCatholic lady, wife, mother, and queen, who reigns enthroned in the\nhearts of her people, the type of every royal, womanly, and Christian\nvirtue.\n\nAbsolute C\u00e6sarism itself, touched by Catholic justice, has\nvoluntarily conceded constitutional government, and the successor\nof him who was both the child and the victim of the revolution, who\ndragged Pius VII. from the chair of Peter to a French prison, upholds\nthe chief of the apostles as he sits to-day enthroned prince and\npatriarch and apostle of the assembled and united episcopate of the\nworld.\n\nIt is time for Catholics to cease complaining. The church is\nvindicated. They are vindicated. Reason, science, and religion are\nunited in a species of intellectual trinity, capable of presiding\nover and directing all human, temporal, and eternal destinies. All\nthat remains is for the individual Catholic, the Catholic voter,\nto play well his part in the drama whose acts are realities, whose\ncurtain will never fall, and where the only change of scene will be\nwhen the vault of the heavens parts in twain and the splendor of the\neternal world bursts upon his enraptured vision.\n\nIt is in the power of the Catholic voter of the nineteenth century\nto achieve a consummation such as perhaps saints and prophets have\ndreamed, but never seen. It is your part, Catholic freemen and\nelectors, to perpetuate the latest and most perfect effort in the\nhuman science of government--the constitution of our glorious and\nbeloved country; to check the current of corruption in literature,\nmanners, and politics.\n\nIt is in your power to arrest the progress of demoralizing and\ndisintegrating legislation on the subject of marriage and suffrage,\nand to provide the means for the permanent endowment of colleges,\nseminaries, and universities. It is in your power to elect able,\nhonest, and virtuous men to office, and to reunite the principles of\ngovernment with the principles of religion.\n\nWill you respond to the offer which is made you in this country\nand the nineteenth century, and perfect and complete what may not\nunlikely be the last opportunity for achieving temporal prosperity in\nharmony with Catholic justice?\n\n\n\n\nDION AND THE SIBYLS.\n\nA CLASSIC, CHRISTIAN NOVEL.\n\nBY MILES GERALD KEON, COLONIAL SECRETARY, BERMUDA, AUTHOR OF \"HARDING\nTHE MONEY-SPINNER,\" ETC.\n\n\nCHAPTER XII.\n\nA short silence followed the concurring exclamations of Thellus and\nour hero, recorded in the last chapter; and then the lanista said,\n\n\"Before I leave you, I will speak one word which came of the chance\nof uttering while I brought you that letter, but which I would not\nhave pronounced had I found you to be a person of a different sort.\nYou are really Tiberius's prisoner, remember, although it is to\nVelleius Paterculus you have given your parole. I know, by personal\nexperience and much observation, the men and the things of which you,\non the other hand, can have only a suspicion. Now, I conjecture, it\nis hardly for your own sake that you are in custody. Beware of what\nmay happen to those dear to you; and as they have given no parole,\nsend them to some place of safety, some secret place. There is no\nplace safe in itself in the known world. Roman liberty is no more;\nsecrecy is the sole safety remaining. _Vale_.\"\n\nWith these words the lanista departed, leaving our young friend\nburied in thought. As he left the court of the impluvium to seek\nhis mother, he remarked that Claudius had returned thither, and was\noccupied in watering some flowers in pots at the opposite angle. \"I\nwonder,\" thought he, \"can that fellow have overheard Thellus?\"\n\nOther and more important matters, however, were destined to invite\nhis attention. We have said enough to justify us in passing over\nwith a few words every interval void of more than ordinary daily\noccurrences of the age and land. What has been related and described\nwill sufficiently enable a reader of intelligence to realize the\nsort of life which lay before Paulus, his mother, and Agatha during\nthe next few days passed by them together at the inn of the Hundreth\nMilestone.\n\nOf course, Paulus detailed to his mother what he had observed or\nheard, especially Thellus's warning. Further, he propounded thereon\nhis own conclusions. The family thought it well to summon Crispina\nand Crispus to a council; and it was finally resolved that Aglais\nshould at once write to her brother-in-law, Marcus \u00c6milius Lepidus,\nthe ex-triumvir, and ask a temporary home under his roof for herself\nand Agatha, with their female slave Melena. Old Philip and Paulus\ncould remain at the inn for some time longer. Aglais, Paulus, and\nthe worthy couple who kept the inn consulted together, carrying\ntheir conferences rather far into the night, when the business of\nthe hostelry was over, upon the question what would be the best\ncourse to pursue, should the triumvir, from timidity or any other\nmotive, refuse shelter to his brother's widow and child? During these\nconferences Agatha and Benigna went to sit apart, each engaged in\nsome kind of needle-work.\n\nIt did not seem to the little council probable that Lepidus would\nrefuse the request submitted to him, and if he acceded to it,\nCrispina assured Aglais that the castle of Lepidus at Monte Circello,\ncovering both the summit and the base of a cliff upon the edge of\nthe sea, was sufficiently capacious, intricate, and labyrinthine to\nconceal a good part of a Roman legion in complete security.\n\nMoreover, it had escapes both by land and by water; nor could any\none approach it without being visible to the inmates for miles.\n\"Considering,\" reasoned Crispina, \"that there is no pretext for\nostensibly demanding the surrender of the ladies, who have not\ncommitted any offence, and are not, or at all events are not supposed\nto be, under any supervision, this retreat will afford all the\nsecurity that can be desired. But Master Paulus must never go near\nyou when once you leave this roof.\"\n\nAglais admitted the wisdom of the suggestion. A letter, a simple,\nelegant, and affecting composition, was written by her, and intrusted\nto Crispus for transmission. However, as it was the unanimous\nopinion of all concerned that the family ought not to be detected in\nany communications with Lepidus, or even suspected of any, it was\nnecessary for Crispus to observe great caution in forwarding the\ndocument. Several days, therefore, passed away before an opportunity\nwas presented of sending a person who would neither be observed\nin going, nor missed when gone, and who could at the same time be\nimplicitly trusted; none but old Philip could be found.\n\nCrispus had been on the point of employing Claudius for the purpose,\nwhen Crispina resolutely stopped him. \"I have a high opinion of that\nyouth,\" said she, \"or I would not consent that Benigna should marry\nhim; but at present he is a slave, and a slave of the very person\nagainst whom we are guarding. Moreover, Claudius is young and very\ntimid; he has his way to make, and all his hopes are dependent on\nthis tyr--I mean the prince. I do not wish even Benigna to know any\nthing about the present business. The more honest any young people\nare, the more they betray themselves, if cross-questioned about\nmatters which they know, but have been told to conceal. If they know\nnothing, why, they can tell nothing, and moreover none can punish or\nblame them for not telling.\n\n\"A silent tongue, husband, like mine, and a simple heart like yours,\nmake safe necks. There, go about your business.\"\n\nDuring the delay and suspense which necessarily followed, Paulus\nfished, and took long walks through that beautiful country, many\naspects of which, already described by us, as they then were, have\nfor ever disappeared. He used to take with him something to eat in\nthe middle of the day, but always returned toward evening in time to\njoin the last light repast of his mother and sister. Each evening saw\nthem reassembled. Four tall, exquisitely tapering poles, springing\nfrom firm pedestals, supported four little scallop-shaped lamps at\nthe four corners of their table. The supper was often enriched by\nPaulus with some delicious fresh-water fish of his own catching.\nBenigna waited upon them, and, being invariably engaged by Agatha in\nlively conversation, amused and interested the circle by her mingled\nsimplicity, good feeling, and cleverness. After supper, Agatha would\ninsist that Benigna should stay with them awhile, and they either all\nstrolled through the garden, whence perfumes strong as incense rose\nin the dewy air, or they sat conversing in the bower which overlooked\nit. Then after a while Crispina would ascend the garden-stairs to\ntheir landing; and while she inquired how they all were, and told\nthem any news she might have gathered, Benigna would steal silently\ndown to say good-night, as Agatha declared, to some shadowy figure\nwho was dimly discernible standing not far away among the myrtles,\nand apparently contemplating the starry heavens. Such was their quiet\nlife, such the tenor of those fleeting days.\n\nOne evening--the sweet evening of a magnificent autumn day--Paulus\nwas returning across the country, with a rod and line, from a distant\nexcursion upon the banks of the Liris. The spot which he had chosen\nthat day for fishing was a deep, clear, silent pool, formed by a\nbend of the river. A clump of shadowy chestnuts and hornbeam grew\nnigh, and the water was pierced by the deep reflections of a row of\nstately poplars, which mounted guard upon its margin. There seated,\nhis back supported against one of the trees, watching the float of\nhis line as it quivered upon the surface of the beautiful stream,\nhe heard no sound but the ripple of the little waves lapping on\nthe reeds, the twittering of birds, and the hum of insects. There,\nwith a mind attuned by the peaceful beauties of the solitary scene,\nhe had traversed a thousand considerations. He thought of the many\ncharacters with whom he had so suddenly been brought into more or\nless intercourse or contact. He thought much of Thellus, and of\nhis poor Alba, so cruelly sacrificed. He was puzzled by Claudius.\nHe mused about Sejanus, about Tiberius, about Velleius Paterculus,\nabout the two beautiful ladies in the litters; he thought of the\nthird gold-looking palanquin and its pallid occupant; of the haughty\nand violent, yet, as it seemed, servile patrician and senator, who\nhad attempted suddenly to kill him, out of zeal for C\u00e6sar; of the\nsingular reverse which had awaited the attempt; of Queen Berenice,\nand Herod Agrippa, and Herodias; of the various unexpected incidents\nand circumstances which had followed. He thought of his uncle\nLepidus; of the fate, whatever it might be, now to attend his mother,\nhis sister, and himself. He revolved the means of establishing his\nrights and his claims. Ought he at once to employ some able orator\nand advocate, and to appeal to the tribunals of justice? Should he\nrather seek a hearing from the emperor in person, and, if so, how was\nthis to be managed?\n\nFrom recollections and calculations, the spirit of his pastime and\nthe genius of the place bore him away and lured him into the realm\nof day-dreams, vague and far-wandering! Up-stream, about a mile from\nwhere he was sitting, towered high a splendid mansion. On its roof\nglittered its company of gilt and colored statues, conversing and\nacting above the top of a wood.\n\nIn that mansion his forefathers had lived.\n\nOn one of the streams lay ancient Latium, where he sat, teeming with\ntraditions--a monster or a demigod in every tree, rock, and river;\nthe cradle of the Roman race, the seed and germ of outspreading\nconquest and universal empire. On the opposite banks was unrolled,\nfar to the south, the Campanian landscape, where Hannibal, the most\nterrible of Romish enemies and rivals, had enervated his victorious\nlegions, and lost the chances of that ultimate success which would\nhave changed the destinies of mankind.\n\nSuddenly, among the statues on the roof, Paulus beheld, not bigger\nthan children by comparison, moving figures of men and ladies in\ndazzling attire. He perceived that salutations were exchanged,\ngroups formed and groups dispersed. Happening, the next moment, to\ncast his eye over the landscape, he saw in the distance some horsemen\ngalloping toward the house, through the trees in the distance. Losing\nsight of them behind intervening clumps of oleander, myrtle, and\nother shrubs, he turned once more to watch the groups upon the roof.\nIn a short time new figures seemed to arrive, around whom all the\nothers gathered with the attitude and air of listening.\n\nPaulus felt as if he was assisting at a drama. A moment later the\nroof was deserted by its living visitors, the statues remained alone\nand silent, gesticulating and flashing in the sun. Tidings must have\ncome. Something must have happened, thought Paulus; and, as the\nday was already declining, he gathered up his fishing-tackle and\nwended homeward. On the way he met a man in hide sandals, carrying\na large staff and piked with iron. It was a shepherd, of whom he\nasked whether there was any thing new. \"Have you not heard?\" said the\nman; \"the flocks will fetch a better price--the emperor has come to\nFormi\u00e6.\"\n\nFull of this intelligence, and anxious at once to consult Aglais\nwhether, before Augustus should leave the neighborhood, he ought not\nto endeavor by all means now to obtain a hearing from him, Paulus\nmended his pace; but while he thought he might be the bearer of\nnews, some news awaited him. He passed through the little western\ntrellis gate into the quoit-alley, and so by the garden toward the\nhouse. A couple of female slaves, who were talking and laughing\nabout something like the impudence of a slave, and depend on it a\nlove-letter it is, but it's Greek, which seemed to afford them much\namusement, stood at the door of the lower arbor, which inclosed\nthe foot of the stairs leading up to the landing of his mother's\napartments. Noticing him, they hastily went about their business in\ndifferent directions, and he ran up the stairs, and found his mother\nand sister talking in low tones, just inside the open door of the\nupper arbor in the large sitting-room, which, as the reader knows,\nwas also the room where they took their meals.\n\n\"I am glad you have returned, Paulus,\" said his mother. \"Look at\nthis; your sister found it about half an hour ago on the landing in\nthe arbor.\"\n\nAnd Aglais handed him a piece of paper, on which was written, in a\nclear and elegant hand, in Greek:\n\n\"_When power and craft hover in the air as hawks, let the ortolans\nand ground-doves hide._\"\n\nOur hero read the words, turned the paper over, read the words again,\nand said, \"I don't see the meaning of this. It is some scrap of a\nschool-boy's theme, perhaps.\"\n\n\"School-boys do not often write such a hand,\" said Aglais; \"nor is\nthe paper a scrap torn off--it is a complete leaf. And, again, why\nshould it be found upon our landing?\"\n\n\"What school-boys could come up our stairs? There are none in the\ninn, are there? Have you been in all day?\" asked Paulus.\n\n\"No; we were returning from a walk across the fields to see the place\nnear Cicero's villa of Formianum, where the assassins overtook him,\nand as Agatha, who ran up-stairs before me, reached the landing, she\nobserved something white on the ground, and picked it up. It was that\npaper. Some stranger must have been up-stairs while we were away.\"\n\n\"Crispus or Crispina would not have said this to us by means of an\nanonymous writing. They have given us the same warning without\ndisguise, personally.\"\n\n\"But they spoke only according to their own opinion,\" returned\nPaulus. \"Coming from some one else, the same advice acquires yet\ngreater importance. Some unknown person bears witness of the danger\nwhich our host and hostess merely suspect, and at which Thellus, the\nlanista, hinted, as perhaps impending, but which even he did not\naffirm to be a reality.\"\n\n\"That is,\" added Paulus, \"if this bit of paper has been intended for\nus--I mean for you and for Agatha, because I am not a ground-dove.\"\n\n\"Well, I do not see,\" said the lady, musing, \"what more we can do for\nthe moment. Our trusty Philip is on the way with my letter to your\nuncle; he may be by this time on the way back. Till he returns, what\ncan we do?\"\n\n\"I know not,\" said Paulus. \"Have you asked Crispina about this paper?\"\n\n\"We waited first to consult you,\" said Aglais; \"and,\" added Agatha,\n\"there is another singular thing--we have not seen Benigna all day,\nwho was so regular in attending upon us. The hostess told us that\nBenigna was suffering with a bad headache; and when I wanted to go\nand tend her, Crispina hindered me, saying she had lain down and was\ntrying to sleep.\"\n\n\"What about the lover?\" inquired Paulus--\"the slave Claudius?\"\n\n\"He has gone away all of a sudden, though his holiday has not\nexpired. I really suspect that Benigna and he must have had a\nquarrel, and that this is why he has left the place, and why Benigna\nis so ill.\"\n\nThe _clepsydra_, or water-clock, on the floor in a corner, showed\nthat it was now past the time when their evening repast was usually\nprepared. They were wondering at the delay, when Crispus, first\nknocking at the door which led from the passage, entered. He seemed\nalarmed. They put various questions to him which the circumstances\nrendered natural, showing him the paper that had been dropped on the\nlanding. He said that he thought he could make a pretty good surmise\nabout that matter; but inasmuch as Benigna, who had been crying out\nher little heart, was much better, and had declared she would come\nherself when they had supped, and tell them every thing, he would\nprefer to leave the recital to her, if they would permit him.\n\nMeantime he confirmed the news that the emperor had arrived at\nthe neighboring town, that the festivities had begun at the\nMamurran palace, and that in a day or two the public part of the\nentertainments, the shows and battles of the circus, which would\nlast for several successive mornings and evenings, would be opened.\nHe said it was usual to publish a sort of promissory plan of these\nentertainments; and he expected to receive, through the kindness of\na friend at court, (a slave,) some copies of the document early next\nmorning, when he would hasten to place it in their hands. While thus\nspeaking to them with an air of affected cheerfulness, he laid the\ntable for supper. Actuated by a curiosity in which a good deal of\nuneasiness was mingled, since he would not himself tell them all they\ndesired to know, they requested him to go and send Benigna as soon as\npossible; and when at last he retired with this injunction, they took\ntheir supper in unbroken silence.\n\nBenigna came. The secret was disclosed, and it turned slow-growing\napprehension into present and serious alarm.\n\n\"What! Claudius a spy! The spy of Tiberius set as a sort of secret\nsentry over us! Who would have thought it?\"\n\nBenigna, turning very red and very pale by turns, had related what\nshe had learnt, and how she had acted. Little knowing either the\nsecret ties between her mother and this half-Greek family, or the\ninterest and affection she had herself conceived for them, her lover\nhad told her that she might help most materially in a business of\nmoment intrusted to him by his master; adding that, if he gave the\nC\u00e6sar satisfaction in this, he should at once obtain his liberty,\nand then they might be married. She answered that he must know how\nready she was to further his plans, and bade him explain himself,\nin order that she might learn how to afford him immediately the\nservice which he required. But no sooner had she understood what\nwere his master's commands, than she was filled with consternation.\nShe informed him that her father and mother would submit to death\nrather than betray the last scions of the \u00c6milian race, and that she\nherself would spurn all the orders of Tiberius before she would hurt\na hair of their heads. She mentioned, with a little sob, that she had\nfurther informed Claudius that she never would espouse a man capable\nof plotting mischief against them. Upon this announcement Claudius\nhad behaved in a way \"worthy of any thing.\" He there and then took\nan oath to renounce the mission he had undertaken. He had neither\nknown its objects nor suspected its villainy. But Benigna, whose mind\nhe thus relieved, he filled with a new anxiety by expressing his\nconviction that Tiberius C\u00e6sar would forthwith destroy him. However,\nof this he had now gone to take his chance.\n\n\"Did Claudius,\" asked Paulus, \"intend to tell the C\u00e6sar that he\ndisapproved of the service upon which he had been sent, and would not\nhelp to execute it?\"\n\n\"No, sir,\" said Benigna. \"We were a long time consulting what he\nshould, what he could say. He is very timid; it is his only fault.\nHe is going to throw all the blame upon me, and thus he will mention\nthat I, that he, that we, were going to be married, and that, in\norder the more effectually to watch the movements of ladies to\nwhom he personally could get no access under this roof, the bright\nnotion had occurred to him to enlist my services, so as to render\nit impossible that these ladies should escape him; or that their\nmovements should remain unknown, when lo! unfortunately for his plan,\nhe finds I love these ladies too well to play the spy upon them;\nthat I refused, and even threatened, if he did not retire from his\nsentry-box forthwith, not only to break off my nuptial engagement\nwith him, but to divulge to the family that they were the objects of\nespial.\"\n\n\"Which you have done,\" said Aglais, \"even though he has complied with\nyour demands.\"\n\nPoor Benigna smiled. \"Yes,\" said she, \"I was bent upon that the\ninstant I knew; but what my dear, unfortunate Claudius had to say\nto Tiberius C\u00e6sar was the point. The C\u00e6sar is not to be told every\nthing. My head is bursting to think what will happen.\"\n\nHere she broke into a fit of crying. They all, except Paulus, tried\nto comfort her. He had started to his feet when he first understood\nthe one fact, that this young girl had sacrificed not only her\nmatrimonial hopes, but the very safety of her lover himself, to\nthe claims of honor and the laws of friendship. He was now pacing\nthe width of the room in long strides with an abstracted air, from\nwhich he awaked every now and then to contemplate with a thoughtful\nlook the anguish and terror depicted in the innocent face of the\ninnkeeper's little daughter.\n\nAt last he stopped and said to her,\n\n\"Of what are you afraid?\"\n\n\"The anger of that dreadful man.\"\n\n\"What dreadful man?\"\n\nShe answered with a couple of sobs,\n\n\"The august, red-faced, big, divine beast.\"\n\n\"But neither you nor your lover have done any thing unlawful, any\nthing wrong.\"\n\n\"That is no security,\" said poor Benigna, shaking her head and\nwringing her hands.\n\n\"That ought to be a security,\" said Aglais; adding in a mutter, \"but\noften is a danger.\"\n\n\"It is not even allowed by people that it ought to be a security,\"\nreturned the girl.\n\n\"Until it is so allowed, and so practised too, the earth will\nresemble Tartarus rather than the Elysian Fields,\" said Aglais with\nenergy.\n\nBenigna began to cry amid her sympathetic audience, and said,\n\n\"It was so like the Elysian Fi-fields yesterday, and now it is like\nTar-tartarus! They will kill him.\"\n\n\"For supper, do you mean?\" asked Paulus, laying his powerful, white,\nlong-fingered hand upon Benigna's head, while Agatha embraced her.\n\"But then, how will they cook him? How ought a Claudius to be cooked?\"\n\nThe young girl looked up wistfully through her tears, and said,\n\n\"You do not know that awful divine man.\"\n\n\"I think I half suspect him,\" answered Paulus. \"But the red-faced,\nbig, divine beast, as you call him, will reward Claudius, instead of\nbeing angry with him, and this I will show you clearly. Was it not\na proof both of zeal and of prudence, on Claudius's part, in the\nservice of his master, to endeavor to enlist your assistance? And\nagain, upon finding, contrary to all likelihood--as Tiberius himself\nwill admit, and would be the first to contend--that you preferred\nvirtue, and truth, and honor, and good faith, to your own manifest\nand immediate interests, and to success in love--upon finding this\nextraordinary and unlikely fact occurring, was it not clearly the\nduty of Claudius to his master to hasten away at once and tell him\nthe precise turn which events had taken? _Now, what else has been his\nconduct, young damsel?_ What, except exactly all this, has Claudius\ndone? Will he not, then, be rewarded by his master, instead of being\neaten for supper?\"\n\n\"Ah noble sir!\" cried Benigna with clasped hands, \"what wisdom and\nwhat beautiful language the gods have given you! This must be what\npeople call Greek philosophy, expounded with Attic taste.\"\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII.\n\nNext morning at breakfast, Paulus announced that he had resolved to\ngo to Formi\u00e6 and seek an audience of the emperor himself.\n\n\"How will you get one?\" asked Aglais; \"and if you get one, what good\nwill it do you?\"\n\n\"It will depend upon circumstances,\" he replied; \"for, whether I fail\nto get speech of the emperor, or, succeeding in that, fail to get\njustice from him, process of law remains equally open, and so does\nprocess of interest. Both means are, I suppose, always doubtful, and\ngenerally dilatory. I spoil no chance by trying a sudden and direct\nmethod of recovering our family rights; while if I succeed, which is\njust possible, I shall save a world of trouble and suspense.\"\n\nAfter some discussion, his mother yielded to her son's impetuous\nrepresentations, more with the view of undeceiving him, and\nreconciling him to other proceedings, than with any hope of a good\nresult.\n\nPaulus had taken his broad-brimmed hat, saying that in three or four\nhours he expected to be back again at the inn; but that if he did\nnot reappear, they were to conclude that he had found a lodging at\nFormi\u00e6, and that he was remaining there for some good reason; when\nthe door was flung open, and breathless, radiant, holding an unfolded\nletter in her hand, Benigna rushed into the room.\n\n\"Read, read,\" she cried, \"and give me joy! I was unjust to the noble\nprince.\"\n\nShe handed the letter to Aglais, who read aloud what follows:\n\n                                                    \"FORMI\u00c6.\n\n    \"\u00c6lius Sejanus, the pr\u00e6torian prefect greets Crispus, keeper\n    of the inn at 100 Milestone. Our C\u00e6sar is so pleased with the\n    slave Claudius, that he has resolved to give him his freedom\n    and the sum of fifty thousand sesterces, upon which to take a\n    wife and to begin any calling he may prefer. And understanding\n    that he is engaged, whenever he becomes a free man, to marry\n    your daughter Benigna, and knowing not only that good news\n    is doubly agreeable when it comes from the mouth of a person\n    beloved, but that to the person who loves it is agreeable also\n    to be the bearer of it, he desires that your daughter, whose\n    qualities and disposition he admires, should be the first\n    to tell her intended husband Claudius of his happy fortune.\n    Let her, therefore, come to-morrow to Formi\u00e6, where, at the\n    Mamurran palace, C\u00e6sar will give her a message which is to be\n    at once communicated to the slave Claudius. Farewell.\"\n\n\"I want to go at once to Formi\u00e6,\" cried Benigna.\n\n\"Well, I am even now going,\" said Paulus; \"and if you intend to walk,\nI will guard you from any annoyance either on the way or at Formi\u00e6, a\ntown which you know is at present swarming with soldiers.\"\n\nThis offer was, of course, too valuable not to be cheerfully accepted.\n\nA few moments after the foregoing conversation, Paulus and Benigna\nleft the inn of Crispus together. The roads were full of groups of\npersons of all ranks, in carriages, on horseback, and on foot. Some\nof these were bound countryward, but not one for every score of those\nwho were bound in their own direction. No adventure befell them, and\nin less than two hours they arrived at their destination. It was easy\nto find the Mamurran palace, to the principal door of which, guarded\nby a Pr\u00e6torian sentry on either hand, Paulus forthwith escorted\nBenigna.\n\nThere was no footway on either side of the street, and as they\napproached the door they heard the clang of the metal knocker resound\nupon _the inside_. At the same moment the sentinel nearest to them\nshouted \"_linite_,\" (by your leave.) Two or three persons at this\nwarning shrank hurriedly into the middle of the road; a Numidian\nrider made his horse bound aside, and the large folding-doors were\nsimultaneously flung open outward.\n\nImmediately appeared the very man in the dark-dyed purple robe of\nwhom the little damsel was in quest, and upon whose personal aspect,\nalready minutely described in a former place, we need not here dwell.\nA handsome gentleman, in middle life, with an acute and thoughtful\nface, who wore the Greek mantle called \u03c7\u03bb\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bd\u03b1, (_l\u00e6na_,) but\ndifferently shaped from an augur's, followed. Both these persons\nmoved with that half-stoop which seems like a continued though very\nfaint bow; and when in the street, they turned, stood still and\nwaited. Then came forth, leaning on a knight's arm, and walking\nsomewhat feebly, a white-haired, ancient, and majestic man, around\nwhose person, in striking contrast with the many new fashions of\ndress lately become prevalent, a snowy woollen toga, with broad\nviolet borders, flowed. Under this toga, indeed, was a tunic richly\nembroidered with gold, and having painted upon it the head of the\nidol called the Capitoline Jove, half hidden by a wide double stripe\nof scarlet silk.\n\nWhen this personage had come into the street, all those who chanced\nto be there uncovered. Tiberius, the gentleman in the Greek mantle,\nand the knight himself upon whose arm the object of all this\nreverence continued to lean, did the same; and it was thus that\nPaulus, who had already guessed from frequent descriptions formerly\nreceived, knew for certain that he beheld for the first time Augustus\nC\u00e6sar, sovereign of three hundred million human beings, and absolute\nmaster of the known world. In a moment those who formed the personal\ncompany of the emperor resumed their head-gear; some soldiers who\nhappened to be passing did the same, and proceeded upon their\nrespective errands; but the inhabitants remained gazing until the\ngroup began to move on foot up the street in the direction of the\ntemporary circus which had been completed by the knight Mamurra in\nsome fields north-west of the town.\n\nPaulus turned to Benigna and said, \"You perceive the red-faced--ehem!\nthe great man. He does not know you, though you know him. Shall I\ntell him who you are? Indeed, I have not come hither merely to stare\nabout me; so wait you here.\"\n\nHe thereupon left her, and quickly overtaking, and then passing\nbefore, the group in which was Augustus, turned round and stood\ndirectly in their way, hat in hand; but all his sensations were\ndifferent from what he had expected. He grew very red and shamefaced,\nand felt a sudden confusion that was new to his experience. As it\nwas impossible to walk over him, they, on their part, halted for a\nmoment, and looked at him with an expression of surprise which was\ncommon to them all, though indeed not in the same degree. The person\nwho seemed the least astonished was the emperor; and the person who\nseemed more so than any of the rest was Tiberius. Some displeasure,\ntoo, seemed to flash in the glance which he bent upon the youth.\n\nBut Paulus, though abashed, did not lose presence of mind to such an\nextent as to behave stupidly. He said,\n\n\"I ask our august emperor's pardon for interrupting his promenade, in\norder to report to Tiberius C\u00e6sar the execution of an order. Yonder\nis Crispus's daughter, illustrious sir,\" he added, turning toward\nTiberius; \"she has come hither according to your own commands.\"\n\n\"True,\" said Tiberius; \"let her at once seek the prefect Sejanus, who\nwill give the necessary instructions.\"\n\nPaulus's natural courage and enterprising temper had carried him thus\nfar; but his design of accosting and directly addressing Augustus\nC\u00e6sar now seemed, when he had more speedily found an opportunity of\ndoing so than he could have dared to hope, a strange and difficult\nundertaking. How he should procure access to the emperor had been\nthe problem with him and his family heretofore; but now, when the\naccess was already achieved, and when he had only to speak--now when\nhis voice was sure to reach the ears of the emperor himself--he\nknew not what to say or how to begin. He had thought of splendid\ntopics, of deductions which he would draw, certain arguments which\nhe would urge--a matter very plain and easy: in fine, a statement\nsimple, brief, and conclusive; but all this had vanished from his\nmind. There before him, holding back the folds of his toga with\none white hand, upon the back of which more than seventy years had\nbrought out a tracery of blue varicose veins--a modern doctor would\ncall them--with the other hand, which was gloved, and grasping the\nfellow glove, laid upon the arm of the knight already mentioned,\nstood the person who, under forms, the republican semblance of which\nhe carefully preserved, exercised throughout the whole civilized\nand nearly the whole known world, over at least two if not three\nhundred million souls, a power as uncontrolled and as absolute for\nall practical purposes as any which, before him or after him, ever\nfell to man's lot; enthusiastically guarded and religiously obeyed by\nlegions before whom mankind trembled, and whose superiors as soldiers\nhad not been seen then and have not been seen since; the perpetual\ntribune of the people, the prince, senator, perpetual consul, the\nsupreme judge, the arbiter of life and death, the umpire in the\ngreatest concerns between foreign disputants travelling from the\nends of the earth to plead before him; the dispenser of prefectures,\nprovinces, proconsulates, tetrarchies, and kingdoms; treated by kings\nas those kings were themselves treated by the high functionaries whom\nthey had appointed or confirmed, and could in an instant dismiss; the\nunprincipled, cruel, wicked, but moderate-tempered, cold-humored,\ncautious, graceful-mannered, elegant-minded, worldly-wise, and\npolitic prince, who paid assiduous court to all the givers and\ndestroyers of reputation--I mean, to the men of letters. There he\nstood, as we have described him, holding his toga with one hand and\nleaning upon Mamurra's arm with the other; and Paulus stood before\nhim, and Paulus knew not what to say; hardly, indeed--so quickly\nthe sense of bashfulness, confusion, depression had gained upon\nhim--hardly how to look.\n\n\"If you have heard,\" observed Tiberius at length, \"pray stand aside.\"\n\nPaulus, who, while Tiberius was speaking, had looked at him, now\nglanced again toward the emperor, and still hesitated, made a\nshuffling bow, and stood partly aside.\n\n\"What is it you wish to say?\" asked Augustus, in a somewhat feeble\nvoice, not at all ungraciously.\n\n\"I wish,\" said Paulus, becoming very pale, \"to say, my sovereign,\nthat my father's property in this very neighborhood was taken away\nafter the battle of Philippi and given to strangers, and to beg of\nyour justice and clemency to give back that property or an equivalent\nto me, who am my dead father's only son.\"\n\n\"But,\" said Augustus smiling, \"half the land in Italy changed hands\nabout the time you mention. Your father fought for Brutus, I suppose?\"\n\n\"My father fought for you, my lord,\" said Paulus.\n\n\"Singular!\" exclaimed Augustus; \"but this is not a court of\njustice--the courts are open to you.\"\n\nAt this moment Sejanus and one whom Paulus presumed to be in Rome,\nCneius Piso, attended by a slave, appeared from a cross street. The\nslave approached quickly, holding a pigeon; and having caught the eye\nof Augustus, who beckoned to him, he handed the bird to the emperor.\n\nPaulus withdrew a little, but lingered near the group. Augustus,\ndisengaging a piece of thin paper from the pigeon's neck, said,\n\n\"From Illyricum, I suppose. We shall now learn what progress those\nGermans have made. O Varus, Varus!\" added he, in words which he\nhad of late often been heard to repeat, \"give me back the legions,\n'_redde legiones! redde legiones!_'\"\n\nA breathless silence lasted while Augustus perused the message taken\nfrom the neck of the carrier-pigeon. As he crushed the paper in his\nhands, he muttered something; and while he muttered, the scorbutic\nface of Tiberius (perhaps scrofulous would better render the epithet\nused by Tacitus) burned ominously. In what the emperor said Paulus\ncaught the words, \"_danger to Italy_, but Germanicus knows how.\"\n\n\"Varus lost the legions a thousand times, a thousand paces westward\nof this irruption,\" said Tiberius.\n\n\"A calamity like that,\" said Augustus, \"is felt far and near. The\nwhole empire suffers, nor will it recover in my time. Ah! the\nlegions.\"\n\nPaulus perceived that he himself was now forgotten; moreover, looking\nback, he saw the poor young damsel, left by him at the door of the\nMamurran palace, still standing alone and unprotected; but some\nfascination riveted him.\n\nIn a moment a great noise was heard, which lasted a couple of\nminutes; a mighty roar, indistinct, blended, hoarse, as of tens of\nthousands of men uttering one immense shout. It was, had it lasted,\nlike the sound of the sea breaking upon some cavernous coast.\n\nUpon a look of inquiry and surprise from the emperor, Sejanus sent\nthe slave who had brought the carrier-pigeon to ascertain the cause,\nand before the sound had ceased the messenger returned, and reported\nthat it was only Germanicus C\u00e6sar riding into camp. Augustus fixed\nhis eyes on the ground, and Tiberius looked at Sejanus and at Cneius\nPiso.\n\nThe emperor, after a second or two of musing, resumed his way toward\nthe rustic circus and the camp, attended by those around.\n\nPaulus felt he had not gained much by his interview. He now touched\nthe arm of Sejanus, who was about following the imperial group, and\nsaid, pointing toward the spot where Benigna still stood waiting,\n\n\"Yonder is Crispina's daughter, who is here in obedience to your\nletter.\"\n\nSejanus answered this reminder with a sour and peculiar smile.\n\n\"Good,\" said he; \"she has come to announce the fine news to her\nbetrothed. Let her tell him that he has only to break a horse for\nTiberius C\u00e6sar to obtain his freedom. I have no time to attend any\nmore to slaves and their mates. She has now but to ask for Claudius\nat that palace. He has orders to expect her, and to receive from her\nmouth the pleasing information I have just given you.\"\n\nSaying this, he walked away.\n\nOur hero conceived some undefined misgiving from these words, or\nrather from the tone, perhaps, in which the prefect had uttered them.\nUnable to question the speaker, he slowly returned to poor little\nBenigna, and said, \"Well, Benigna, I have ascertained what you have\nto do; and, first of all, Claudius expects you within.\"\n\nAs he spoke, he knocked at the door. This time only one leaf of it\nwas opened, and a slave, standing in the aperture, and scanning\nPaulus and his companion, demanded their business; while the sentries\non either hand at the sculptured pillars, or _ant\u00e6_ of the porch,\nlooked and listened superciliously.\n\n\"Is the secretary-slave Claudius here?\" asked the youth.\n\nBefore the porter could reply, steps and voices resounded in the\nhall within, and the porter sprang out of the way, flinging almost\ninto Paulus's face the other leaf of the door, and bowing low. Three\ngentlemen, two of whom apparently were half-drunk, their faces\nflushed, and their arms linked together, appeared staggering upon\nthe threshold, where they stood awhile to steady themselves before\nemerging into the street.\n\n\"I tell you, my Pomponius Flaccus,\" said he who was in the middle--a\nportly man, with a good-natured, shrewd, tipsy look--\"it is all a\npretty contrivance, and there will be no slaughter, for the beast is\nto be muzzled.\"\n\n\"And I tell you, my Lucius Piso,\" returned he on the left, a wiry\ndrinker, \"my governor of Rome, my dedicatee of Horace--\"\n\n\"I am not the dedicatee of Horace,\" interrupted the other; \"poor\nHorace dedicated the art-poetical to my two sons.\"\n\n\"How could he do that?\" broke in Pomponius. \"You see double. Two\nsons, indeed! How many sons have you? tell me that. Again, how could\none man dedicate a single work to a double person? answer me that.\nYou know nothing whatever about poetry, except in so far as it is\nfiction; but we don't want fiction in these matters. We want facts;\nand it is a fact--a solemn fact--that the slave will be devoured.\"\n\n\"I hold it to be merely a pleasant fiction,\" retorted Piso fiercely.\n\n\"Then I appeal to Thrasyllus here,\" rejoined the other. \"O thou\nBabylonian seer! will not Claudius the slave be devoured in the\ncircus before the assembled people?\"\n\nAt these words our hero looked at Benigna, and Benigna at him, and\nshe was astounded.\n\nHe who was thus questioned--a man of ghastly face, with long, black\nhair hanging down to his shoulders, and sunken, wistful, melancholy\neyes--wore an Asiatic dress. He was not intoxicated, and seemed to\nhave fallen by chance into his present companionship, from which he\nappeared eager to disengage himself.\n\nGently shaking off the vague hand of Pomponius Flaccus, he acted as\nthe oracles did.\n\n\"You are certainly right,\" he said; but he glanced at Lucius Piso\nwhile speaking, and then stepped quickly into the street, which he\ncrossed.\n\nEach of the disputants naturally deemed the point to have been\ndecided in his own favor.\n\n\"You hear?\" cried Flaccus; \"the horse is to paw him to death, and\nthen to devour him alive.\"\n\n\"How can he?\" said Piso. \"How can he, after d--d--death, devour him\nalive? Besides, Thrasyllus declared that I was right.\"\n\n\"Why,\" shouted Flaccus, \"if we had not been drinking together all the\nmorning, I should think you had lost your senses.\"\n\n\"Not by any means,\" said Piso; \"and I will prove to you by logic that\nClaudius the slave,\" (again at this name our hero and poor little\nBenigna looked at each other--she starting and turning half-round, he\nmerely directing a glance at her,) \"that Claudius the slave will not\nand cannot be devoured by Sejanus--I mean that beast Sejanus.\"\n\nPaulus, chancing to look toward the two pr\u00e6torian sentries, whose\ngeneral he supposed to be mentioned, observed them covertly smiling.\nMore puzzled than ever, he gave all his attention to the tipsy\ndispute which was raging in the palace doorway.\n\n\"Well, prove it then,\" roared Flaccus, \"with your logic!\"\n\n\"Have I not a thumb?\" resumed Lucius Piso; \"and can I not turn it\ndown in the nick of time, and so save the wretch?\"\n\n\"Ho! ho! ho!\" laughed out the other; \"and what notice will a horse\ntake of your thumb? Is this horse such an ass as to mind whether your\nthumb be up or down, though you are governor of Rome?\"\n\n\"Perhaps you think,\" retorted Piso, in a tone of concentrated\nbitterness, \"with your rules of logic, that the horse is not properly\ntrained to his manners?\"\n\n\"Have I not told you,\" said Flaccus, \"in spite of your rules of\nthumb, that the horse is not an ass?\"\n\nThe rudeness and coarseness of Pomponius Flaccus had succeeded in\nsobering Lucius Piso. He here remained a moment silent, drew himself\nup with dignity to the full height of his portly person, and at last\nsaid,\n\n\"Enough! When you have drunk a little more, you will be able to\nunderstand a plain demonstration. But whom have we here? Why, it is\nour glorious Apicius, whose table no other table rivals for either\nabundance or delicacy. Who is your venerable friend, Apicius?\"\n\nThis was addressed to a dyspeptic-looking youth, magnificently\nattired, who, in company with a person in the extreme decline of\nlife, approached the door. Paulus and Benigna stood aside, finding\nthemselves still constrained to listen while waiting for room to\nenter the blocked-up door of the palace.\n\n\"Is it possible,\" replied Apicius, \"that you forget Vedius Pollio,\nwho, since you mention my poor table, has often kindly furnished it\nwith such lampreys as no other mortal ever reared?\"\n\nThe old man, whose age was not redolent of holiness, but reeking\nwith the peculiar aroma of a life passed in boundless and systematic\nself-indulgence, leered with running, bloodshot eyes, and murmured\nthat they paid him too much honor.\n\n\"Sir, you feed your lampreys well,\" said Pomponius Flaccus, \"in your\nVesuvian villa. _They eat much living, and they eat well dead._\"\n\n\"I assure you,\" said Pollio, \"that nothing but humorous exaggerations\nand witty stories have been circulated upon that subject. I can,\nwith the strictest accuracy, establish the statement that no human\nbeing ever died merely and simply in order that my lampreys should\ngrow fat and luscious. On the other hand, I do not deny that if some\nslave, guilty of great enormities, had in any event to forfeit life,\nthe lampreys may in such cases, perhaps, have availed themselves of\nthe circumstance. An opportunity might then arise which they had\nneither caused nor contrived.\"\n\n\"The flavor, in other words, never was the final cause of any slave's\npunishment,\" said Lucius Piso.\n\n\"You use words, sir,\" said Pollio, \"which are correct as to the fact,\nand philosophical as to the style.\"\n\n\"Talking of philosophy,\" said Apicius, \"do you hold with this young\nGreek, this Athenian Dion who has lately visited the court, that man\neats in order to live? or with me, that he lives in order to eat?\"\n\n\"Horror of horrors!\" murmured Flaccus, \"the Athenian boy is demented.\"\n\n\"Whenever there is any thing to eat with you, my Apicius,\" said\nLucius Piso, \"unless there be something to drink with my Pomponius\nhere, may I be alive to do either the one or the other.\"\n\n\"Why not do both?\" wheezed Vedius Pollio. \"Whither are you even now\ngoing?\"\n\n\"To the camp for an appetite,\" said Pomponius Flaccus, descending the\nsteps out of the palace hall into the street, and reeling against\nPaulus, who held him from staggering next against Benigna.\n\n\"What do you two want here?\" he suddenly asked steadying himself.\n\n\"I am accompanying,\" replied Paulus, \"this damsel, who comes hither\nby C\u00e6sar's order.\"\n\n\"What C\u00e6sar?\" asked Pomponius.\n\n\"Tiberius Claudius Nero,\" returned Paulus.\n\nHe naturally supposed that this formal-sounding answer would have\nstruck some awe into the curious company among whom he had so\nunwittingly alighted with his rustic charge.\n\n\"What!\" exclaimed Pomponius Flaccus, \"Biberius Caldius Mero, say you?\"\n\nPaulus started in amazement.\n\n\"_Ebrius_, drunk,\" continued Piso, _ex quo_--How does it go on? _ex\nquo_--\"\n\n\"_Ex quo_,\" resumed Pomponius solemnly, \"_semel factus est_.\"[160]\n\nThe astonishment of Paulus and Benigna knew no bounds. Was it\npossible that in the very precincts of C\u00e6sar's residence for the\ntime, at the door of an imperial palace, within hearing of two\npr\u00e6torian sentries, in the public street and open daylight, persons\nshould be found, not reckless outcasts maddened by desperation, but\na whole company of patricians, who, correcting each other as they\nmight do in reciting a popular proverb, or an admired song, should\nspeak thus of the man to whom gladiators, having not an hour to\nlive, cried, \"As we die we salute thee?\" The man at whose name even\ncourageous innocence trembled?\n\n\"I said,\" repeated Paulus after a pause, \"Tiberius Claudius Nero.\"\n\n\"And I said,\" replied Pomponius, \"Biberius Caldius Mero.\"\n\n\"Drunk but once,\" added Lucius Piso, who had evidently quite\nrecovered from his own inebriation.\n\n\"Since ever he was so first,\" concluded Pomponius Flaccus.\n\nA general laugh, in which all present joined save Paulus and Benigna,\ngreeted this sally, and, in the midst of their hilarity an elegant\nopen chariot of richly-sculptured bronze, the work being far more\ncostly than the material, drawn by two handsome horses, and driven by\na vigorous and expert charioteer, came swiftly down the street in the\ncontrary direction of the camp, and stopped opposite the door.\n\nAs the horses were pulled back upon their haunches, a youth, tall,\nwell made, and eminently graceful, sprang to the ground. He had\na countenance in the extraordinary beauty of which intellect,\nattempered by a sweet, grave, and musing expression, played\nmasterful and luminous. He was neatly but gravely dressed, after\nthe Athenian fashion. The four personages at the door, who were,\nby the by, far more floridly arrayed, and wore various ornaments,\nnevertheless looked like bats among which a bird of paradise had\nsuddenly alighted. No gayety of attire could cover the unloveliness\nof their minds, lives, and natures, nor could the plainness of his\ncostume cause the new-comer to be disregarded or mistaken anywhere.\nIn the whole company Lucius Piso alone was a man of sense, solid\nattainments, and spirit, though he was a hard drinker. Even the\nothers, drivelling jesters as they were, became sober now at once;\nthey uncovered instinctively, and greeted the youth, as he passed,\nwith an obeisance as low as that performed by the _ostiarius_, who\nstood ready to admit him. When, returning these salutes, he had\nentered the palace, Piso said, for the information of Vedius Pollio,\nwho had come from Pompeii, \"_That is he_.\"\n\n\"What! the young Athenian philosopher of whom we have heard so much?\"\n\n\"Yes. Dionysius, young as he is, I am told that he is certain to fill\nthe next vacancy in their famous Areopagus.\"\n\n\"He is high in Augustus's good graces, is he not?\" asked Pollio.\n\n\"Augustus would swear by him,\" said Flaccus. \"It is lucky for all of\nus that the youth has no ambition, and is going away again soon.\"\n\n\"What does Biberius say of him?\" inquired Apicius.\n\n\"Say? Why, what does he ever say of any one, at least of any\ndistinguished man?\"\n\n\"Simply not a word.\"\n\n\"Well, think then what does he think?\"\n\n\"Not lovingly, I suspect. Their spirits, their geniuses, would not\nlong agree. If he was emperor, Dionysius of Athens would not have so\nbrilliant a reception at court.\"\n\n\"But is it then really brilliant? Does one so young sustain his own\npart?\" asked Pollio.\n\n\"You never heard any person like him; I will answer for that,\"\nreplied Lucius Piso. \"He is admirable. I was amazed when I met him.\nAugustus, you know, is no dotard, and Augustus is enchanted with him.\nThe men of letters, besides, are all raving about him, from old Titus\nLivy down to L. Varius, the twiddler of verses, the twiddle-de-dee\nsuccessor of our immortal Horace and our irreplaceable Virgil. And\nthen Quintus Haterius, who has scarcely less learning than Varro,\n(and much more worldly knowledge;) Haterius, who is himself what\nerudite persons rarely are, the most fascinating talker alive, and\ncertainly the finest public speaker that has addressed an assembly\nsince the death of poor Cicero, declares that Dionysius of Athens--\"\n\n\"Ah! enough! enough!\" cried Apicius, interrupting; \"you make me\nsick with these praises of airy, intangible nothings. I shan't eat\ncomfortably to-day. What are all his accomplishments, I should like\nto know, compared to one good dinner?\"\n\n\"You will have long ceased to eat,\" retorted Piso, \"when his name\nwill yet continue to be pronounced.\"\n\n\"And what good will pronouncing do, if you are hungry?\" said Apicius.\n\n\"What has he come to Italy for?\" persisted old Pollio.\n\n\"You know,\" said Piso, \"that all over the east, from immemorial time,\nsome great, mysterious, and stupendous being has been expected to\nappear on earth about this very date.\"\n\n\"Not only in the east, good Piso,\" said Pollio; \"my neighbor in\nItaly, you know, the Cum\u00e6an sibyl, is construed now never to have had\nany other theme.\"\n\n\"You are right,\" returned Piso; \"I meant to say that the prevailing\nnotion has always been that it is in the east this personage will\nappear, and then his sway is to extend gradually into every part\nof the world. Old sayings, various warning oracles, traditions\namong common peasants, who cannot speak each other's languages and\ndon't even know of each other's existence, the obscure songs of\nthe sibyls, the dream of all mankind, the mystical presentiments\nof the world concur, and have long concurred, upon that singular\nsubject. Moreover, the increasing corruption of morals, to which\nHorace adverts,\" added Piso, \"will and must end in dissolving\nsociety altogether, unless arrested by the advent of some such\nbeing. That is manifest. Haterius and others, who are learned in\nthe Hebrew literature, tell me that prodigies and portents, so well\nauthenticated that it is no more possible to doubt them than it is to\ndoubt that Julius C\u00e6sar was murdered in Rome, were performed by men\nwho, ages ago, much more distinctly and minutely foretold the coming\nof this person at or near the very time in which we are living; and,\naccordingly, that the whole nation of the Jews (convinced that those\nwho could perform such things must have enjoyed more than mortal\nknowledge and power) fully expect and firmly believe that the being\npredicted by these workers of portents is now immediately to appear.\nThus, Haterius--\"\n\n\"No,\" said Pomponius Flaccus, shaking his head, looking on the\nground, and pressing the tip of his forefinger against his forehead,\n\"_that is not Haterius's_ argument, or rather, _that is only the half\nof it_.\"\n\n\"I now remember,\" resumed Lucius Piso; \"you are correct in checking\nmy version of it. These ancient seers and wonder-workers had also\nforetold several things that were to come to pass earlier than\nthe advent of the great being, and these things having in their\nrespective times all duly occurred, serve to convince the Jews,\nand indeed have also convinced many philosophic inquirers, of whom\nDionysius is one, studying the prophetical books in question, and\nthen exploring the history of the Hebrews, to see whether subsequent\nevents really correspond with what had been foretold--that seers who\ncould perform the portents which they performed in their day, and\nwho besides possessed a knowledge of future events verified by the\nissue, were and must be genuinely and truly prophets, and that their\npredictions deserved belief concerning this great, mysterious, and\nmuch-needed personage, who is to appear in the present generation.\nAnd then there is the universal tradition, there is the universal\nexpectation, to confirm such reasonings,\" added Piso.\n\nThe astounding character, as well as the intrinsic importance and\ninterest of this conversation, its reference to his half-countryman\nDionysius, of whom he had heard so much, and the glimpses of society,\nthe hints about men and things which it afforded him, had prevented\nPaulus from asking these exalted gentlefolk to make room for him and\nBenigna to pass, and had held him, and indeed her also, spell-bound.\n\n\"But how all this accounts, most noble Piso, for the visit of the\nAthenian to the court of Augustus, you have forgotten to say,\"\nremarked Pollio.\n\n\"He obtained,\" replied Piso, \"the emperor's permission to study the\nSibylline books.\"\n\n\"What a pity,\" said Flaccus, \"that the first old books were burnt in\nthe great fire at Rome.\"\n\n\"Well,\" resumed Lucius Piso, \"he brought this permission to me, as\ngovernor of Rome, and I went with him myself to the quindecemviri and\nthe other proper authorities. Oh! as to the books, it is the opinion\nof those learned in such matters that there is little or nothing in\nthe old books which has not been recovered in the collection obtained\nby the senate afterward from Cum\u00e6, Greece, Egypt, Babylon, and all\nplaces where either the sibyls still lived, or their oracles were\npreserved.\"\n\n\"But, after all,\" said Pollio, \"are not these oracles the ravings of\nenthusiasm, if not insanity?\"\n\n\"Cicero, although in general so sarcastic and disdainful, so\nincredulous and so hard to please,\" answered Piso, \"has settled that\nquestion.\"\n\n\"He has, I allow it,\" added Pomponius Flaccus, \"and settled it most\ncompletely. What a charming passage that is wherein the incomparable\nthinker, matchless writer, and fastidious critic expresses his\nreverential opinion of the Sibylline books, and demonstrates with\ntriumphant logic their claims upon the attention of all rational, all\nclear-headed and philosophic inquirers!\"\n\n\"I am not a rational, or clear-headed, or philosophic inquirer,\"\nbroke in Apicius, \"Come, do come to the camp; and do pray at last\nallow this foreign-looking young gentleman and rustic damsel to enter\nthe doorway.\"\n\nAnd so they all departed together.\n\nThe _atriensis_ had meanwhile summoned the master of admissions, who\nbeckoned to Paulus, and he, followed by Benigna, now entered the\nhall, which was flagged with lozenge-formed marbles of different\nhues, and supported by four pillars of porphyry. The adventurers\npassed the perpetual fire in the ancestral or image-room, and saw\nthe images of the Mamurras, dark with the smoke of many generations;\nthey crossed another chamber hung with pictures, and went half round\nthe galleried and shady impluvium, inclosing a kind of internal\ngarden, where, under the blaze of the sunlight, from which they were\nthemselves sheltered, they beheld, like streams of shaken diamonds,\nthe spray of the plashing fountains, the statues in many-tinted\nmarble, and the glowing colors of a thousand exquisite flowers. Near\nthe end of one wing of the colonnaded quadrangle they arrived at a\ndoor, which they were passing when their guide stopped them, and as\nthe door flew open to his knock, he made them a bow and preceded them\nthrough the aperture.\n\nThey noticed, as they followed, that the slave who had opened this\ndoor was chained to a staple. Several slaves, who scarcely looked up,\nwere writing in the room which they now entered.\n\nThe master of admissions, glancing round the chamber, said,\naddressing the slaves in general, \"Claudius is not here, I perceive;\nlet some one go for him, and say that the daughter of Crispus, of the\nOne Hundredth Milestone, has been charged to communicate to him the\npleasure of Tiberius C\u00e6sar touching his immediate manumission; and\nthat I, the master of admissions in the Mamurran palace, am to add\na circumstance or two which will complete the information the damsel\nhas to give. Let some one, therefore, fetch Claudius forthwith, and\ntell him that he keeps us waiting.\"\n\nDuring this speech, which was rather pompously delivered, Paulus\nnoticed that, close to a second door in the chamber at the end\nopposite to that where they had entered, a young slave was seated\nupon a low settle, with a hide belt round his waist, to which was\npadlocked a light but strong brass chain, soldered at the nether link\nto a staple in the floor. This slave now rose, and opening the door,\nheld it ajar till one of the clerks, after a brief whisper among\nthemselves, was detached to execute the errand which the steward had\ndelivered. The slave closed the door again, the clerks continued\ntheir writing, the steward half-shut his eyes, and leaned against\na pillar in an attitude of serene if not sublime expectation; and\nPaulus and Benigna waited in silence.\n\nDuring the pause which ensued, Paulus beheld the steward suddenly\njump out of his dignified posture, and felt a hand at the same time\nlaid lightly on his own shoulder. Turning round, he saw the youth who\nhad a few minutes before descended from the bronze chariot.\n\n\"Ought I not to be an acquaintance of yours?\" asked the new-comer\nwith an agreeable smile. \"You are strikingly like one whom I have\nknown. He was a valiant Roman knight, once resident in Greece; I mean\nPaulus Lepidus \u00c6milius, who helped, with Mark Antony, to win the\ngreat day of Philippi.\"\n\n\"I am, indeed, his only son,\" said Paulus.\n\n\"You and a sister, I think,\" returned the other, \"had been left at\nhome, in Thrace, with your nurse and the servants, when some business\na little more than three years ago brought your father and his wife,\nthe Lady Aglais, to Athens. There I met them. Alas! he is gone. I\nhave heard it. But where are your mother and your sister?\"\n\nPaulus told him.\n\n\"Well, I request you to say to them that Dionysius of Athens--so\npeople style me--remembers them with affection. I will visit them\nand you. Do I intrude if I ask who is this damsel?\" (glancing kindly\ntoward Benigna, who had listened with visible interest.)\n\nPaulus told him, in a few rapid words, not only who she was, but with\ndistinct details upon what errand she had come.\n\nHe had scarcely finished when Claudius, the slave, arrived\nbreathless, in obedience to the summons of the magister.\n\n\"The orders of Tiberius C\u00e6sar to me,\" observed this functionary in\na slow, loud voice, but with rather a shamefaced glance at Dion,\n\"are, that I should see that you, Claudius, learnt from this maiden\nthe conditions upon which he is graciously pleased to grant you your\nliberty, and then that I should myself communicate something in\naddition.\"\n\n\"O Claudius!\" began Benigna, blushing scarlet, \"we, that is, not you,\nbut I--I was not fair, I was not just to Tib--that is--just read this\nletter from the illustrious prefect Sejanus to my father.\"\n\nClaudius, very pale and biting his lip, ran his eye in a moment\nthrough the document, and giving it back to Benigna awaited the\ncommunication.\n\n\"Well,\" said she, \"only this moment have I learnt the easy, the\ntrifling condition which the generous C\u00e6sar, and tribune of the\npeople, attaches to his bounty.\"\n\nThere was a meaning smile interchanged among the slaves, which\nescaped none present except Benigna; and Claudius became yet more\npallid.\n\n\"The prefect Sejanus has just told Master Paulus,\" pursued the young\nmaiden, \"that you have only to break a horse for Tiberius C\u00e6sar to\nobtain forthwith your freedom, and fifty thousand sesterces too,\" she\nadded in a lower voice.\n\nA dead silence ensued, and lasted for several instants.\n\nPaulus \u00c6milius, naturally penetrating and of a vivid though\nimperfectly-educated mind, discerned this much, that some mystery,\nsome not insignificant secret, was in the act of disclosure. The\nillustrious visitor from Athens had let the hand which lay on\nPaulus's shoulder fall negligently to his side, and with his head\nthrown a little back, and a somewhat downward-sweeping glance, was\nsurveying the scene. He possessed a far higher order of intellect\nthan the gallant and bright-witted youth who was standing beside\nhim; and had received, in the largest measure that the erudite\ncivilization of classic antiquity could afford, that finished mental\ntraining which was precisely what Paulus, however accomplished in all\nathletic exercises, rather lacked. Both the youths easily saw that\nsomething was to come; they both felt that a secret was on the leap.\n\n\"Break a horse!\" exclaimed the slave Claudius, with parched, white\nlips; \"I am a poor lad who have always been at the desk! What do I\nknow of horses or of riding?\"\n\nThere was an inclination to titter among the clerks, but it was\nchecked by their good-nature--indeed, by their liking for Claudius;\nthey all looked up, however.\n\n\"Your illustrious master,\" replied the magister or steward, or\nmajor-domo, \"has thought of this, and, indeed, of every thing;\" again\nthe man directed the same shamefaced glance as before toward Dion.\n\"Knowing, probably, your unexpertness in horses, which is no secret\namong your fellow-slaves, and in truth, among all your acquaintances,\nTiberius C\u00e6sar has, in the first place, selected for you the very\nanimal, out of all his stables, which you are to ride at the games\nin the circus before the couple of hundred thousand people who will\ncrowd the champaign.\"\n\n\"At the games!\" interrupted Claudius, \"and in the circus! Why, all\nwho know me know that I an arrant coward.\"\n\nLike a burst of bells, peal upon peal, irrepressible, joyous,\ndefiant, and frank, as if ringing with astonishment and scorn at the\nthing, yet also full of friendliness and honest pitying love for the\nperson, broke forth the laugh of Paulus. It was so genuine and so\ninfectious, that even Dion smiled in a critical, musing way, while\nall the slaves chuckled audibly, and the slave chained to the staple\nnear the door rattled his brass fastenings at his sides. Only three\nindividuals preserved their gravity, the shamefaced steward, poor\nlittle frightened Benigna, and the astonished Claudius himself.\n\n\"In the second place,\" pursued the magister or steward, \"besides\nchoosing for you the very animal, the individual and particular\nhorse, which you are to ride, the C\u00e6sar has considerately determined\nand decided, in view of your deserved popularity among all your\nacquaintances, that, if any acquaintance of yours, any of your\nnumerous friends, any other person, in fine, whoever, in your stead\nshall volunteer to break this horse for Tiberius C\u00e6sar, you shall\nreceive your freedom and the fifty thousand sesterces the very next\nmorning, exactly the same.\"\n\nA rather weak and vague murmur of applause from the slaves followed\nthis official statement.\n\n\"And so the C\u00e6sar,\" said Claudius, \"has both selected me the steed,\nand has allowed me a substitute to break him, if I can find any\nsubstitute. Suppose, however, that I decline such conditions of\nliberty altogether--what then?\"\n\n\"Then Tiberius C\u00e6sar sells you to-morrow morning to Vedius Pollio of\nPompeii, who has come hither on purpose to buy you, and carry you\nhome to his Cum\u00e6an villa.\"\n\n\"To his tank, you mean,\" replied poor Claudius, \"in order that I may\nfatten his lampreys. I am in a pretty species of predicament. But\nname the horse which I am to break at the games.\"\n\nDion turned his head slightly toward the steward, who was about to\nanswer, and the steward remained silent. A sort of excitement shot\nthrough the apartment.\n\n\"Name the horse, if you please, honored magister,\" said Claudius.\nEven now the steward could not, or did not, speak.\n\nBefore the painful pause was broken, the attention of all present was\narrested by a sudden uproar in the street. The noise of a furious\ntrampling, combined with successive shrieks, whether of pain or\nterror, was borne into the palace.\n\nDionysius, followed by Paulus, by Claudius, by the steward, and\nBenigna, ran to the window, if such it can be termed, drew aside\nthe silken curtain, and pushed open the gaudily-painted, perforated\nshutter, when a strange and alarming spectacle was presented in the\nopen space formed by cross-streets before the left front of the\nmansion.\n\nA magnificent horse of bigger stature, yet of more elegant\nproportions, than the horses which were then used for the Roman\ncavalry, was in the act of rearing; and within stroke of his\nfore-feet, on coming down, lay a man, face under, motionless, a\nwoollen tunic ripped open behind at the shoulder, and disclosing some\nsort of wound, from which blood was flowing. The horse, which was of\na bright roan color, was neither ridden nor saddled, but girt with\na cloth round the belly, and led, or rather held back, by two long\ncavassons, which a couple of powerfully-built, swarthy men, dressed\nlike slaves, held at the further ends on opposite sides of the beast,\nconsiderably apart, and perhaps thirty feet behind him. One of these\nlines or reins--that nearest the palace--was taut, the other was\nslack; and the slave who held the former had rolled it twice or\nthrice round his bare arm, and was leaning back, and hauling, hand\nover hand.\n\nThe animal had apparently stricken on the back, unawares, with a\nfore-foot play and a pawing blow, the man who was lying so still and\nmotionless on the pavement, and the beast, having reared, was now\ntrying to come down upon his victim. But no sooner were his fore-legs\nin the air than he, of course, thereby yielded a sudden purchase to\nthe groom who was pulling him with the taut cavasson, and this man\nwas thus at last enabled to drag him fairly off his hind-legs, and\nto bring him with a hollow thump to the ground upon his side. Before\nthe brute could again struggle to his feet, four or five soldiers who\nhappened to be nigh, running to the rescue, had lifted, and carried\nout of harm's way, the prostrate and wounded man.\n\n\"That is the very horse!\" exclaimed the magister, stretching his neck\nbetween the shoulders of Dion and Paulus, at the small window of the\npalace.\n\n\"I observe,\" said Paulus, \"that the cavasson is ringed to a\nmuzzle--the beast is indisputably muzzled.\"\n\n\"Why is he muzzled?\"\n\n\"Because,\" replied the magister, \"he eats people!\"\n\n\"Eats people!\" echoed Paulus, in surprise.\n\n\"O gods!\" cried Benigna.\n\n\"Yes,\" quoth the steward; \"the horse is priceless; he comes of an\ninestimable breed; that is the present representative of the _Sejan\nrace of steeds_. Your Tauric horses are cats in comparison; your\ncavalry horses but goats. That animal is directly descended from\nthe real horse Sejanus, and excels, they even say, his sire, and\nindeed he also in his turn goes now by the old name. He is the horse\nSejanus.\"\n\nAt these words Paulus could not, though he tried hard, help casting\none glance toward Benigna, who had been with him only so short a time\nbefore at the top of the palace, listening to the conversation of the\ntipsy patricians. The poor little girl had become very white and very\nscare-faced.\n\n\"Tell us more,\" said Dionysius, \"of this matter, worthy magister. We\nhave all heard that phrase of ill omen--'such and such a person has\nthe horse Sejanus'--meaning that he is unlucky, that he is doomed to\ndestruction. Now, what is the origin and what is the true value of\nthis popular proverb?\"\n\n\"Like all popular proverbs,\" replied the steward, with a bow of\nthe deepest reverence to the young Athenian philosopher, \"it has\nsome value, my lord, and a real foundation, although Tiberius has\ndetermined to confute it by practical proof. You must know, most\nillustrious senator of Athens, that during the civil wars which\npreceded the summer-day stillness of this glorious reign of Augustus,\nno one ever appeared in battle-field or festive show so splendidly\nmounted as the knight Cneius Sejus, whose name has attached itself to\nthe race.\n\n\"His horse, which was of enormous proportions, like the beast you\nhave just beheld, would try to throw you first and would try to eat\nyou afterward. Few could ride him: and then his plan was simple.\nThose whom he threw he would beat to death with his paws, and then\ntear them to pieces with his teeth. Moreover, if he could not\ndislodge his rider from the ephippia by honest plunging and fair\nplay, he would writhe his neck round like a serpent--indeed, the\nsquare front, large eyes, and supple neck remind one of a serpent;\nhe would twist his head back, I say, all white and dazzling, with\nthe ears laid close, the lips drawn away, and the glitter of his\nteeth displayed, and, seizing the knee-cap or the shinbone, would\ntear it off, and bring down the best horseman that ever bestrode\na Bucephalus. What usually followed was frightful to behold; for,\nonce a rider was dismounted, the shoulder has been seen to come away\nbetween the brute's teeth, with knots and tresses of tendons dripping\nblood like tendrils, and the ferocious horse has been known with his\ngreat fat grinders to crush the skull of the fallen person, and lap\nup the brains--as you would crack a nut--after which, he paws the\nprostrate figure till it no longer resembles the form of man. But\nthe present horse Sejanus, which you have just beheld, excels all in\nstrength, beauty, and ferocity; he belongs to my master Tiberius.\"\n\n\"Ah gods!\" exclaimed poor Benigna; \"this is the description of a\ndemon rather than of a beast.\"\n\nDionysius and Paulus exchanged one significant glance, and the former\nsaid:\n\n\"What became of the first possessor, who yields his name to so\nunexampled a breed of horses? what became of the knight Sejus?\"\n\n\"A whisper had transpired, illustrious sir,\" replied the steward,\n\"that this unhappy man had fed the brute upon human flesh. Mark\nAntony, who coveted possession of the horse, brought some accusation,\nbut not this, against the knight, who was eventually put to death;\nbut Dolabella, the former lieutenant of Julius C\u00e6sar, had just before\ngiven a hundred thousand sesterces (\u00a3800) to Sejus for the animal;\ntherefore Antony killed the knight for nothing, and failed to get\nSejanus; at least he failed that time. Dolabella, however, did not\nprosper; he almost immediately afterward murdered himself. Cassius\nthereupon became the next master of the Sejan horse, and Cassius rode\nhim at the fatal battle of Philippi, losing which, Cassius in his\nturn, after that resolute fashion of which we all have heard, put an\nend to his own existence.\"\n\n\"To one form of it,\" observed Dionysius.\n\n\"This time,\" continued the magister, bowing, \"Mark Antony had his\nway--he became at last the lord of the Sejan horse, but likewise he,\nin his turn, was doomed to exemplify the brute's ominous reputation;\nfor Antony, as you know, killed himself a little subsequently at\nAlexandria. The horse had four proprietors in a very short period,\nand in immediate succession, the first of whom was cruelly slain, and\nthe three others slew themselves. Hence, noble sir, the proverb.\"\n\nBy this time, the magister had told his tale, the street outside\nhad become empty and silent, and the parties within the chamber had\nthoroughly mastered and understood the horrible truth which underlay\nthe case of the slave Claudius, and this new instance of Tiberius's\nwrath and vengeance.\n\nThe magister, Claudius, and Benigna had returned to the other end of\nthe room, where the slaves were writing, and had left Paulus and Dion\nstill standing thoughtfully near the window.\n\nClaudius exclaimed, \"My turn it is at present; it will be some one\nelse's soon!\"\n\nHe and Benigna were now whispering together. The magister stood a\nlittle apart, looking on the ground in a deep reverie, his chin\nburied in the hollow of his right hand, the arm of which was folded\nacross his chest. The slaves were bending over their work in silence.\n\nSays Paulus in a low voice to Dion, \"You have high credit with the\nemperor, illustrious Athenian; and surely if you were to tell him the\nwhole case, he would interfere to check the cruelty of this man, this\nTiberius.\"\n\n\"What, Augustus do this for a slave?\" replied Dion mournfully. \"The\nemperor would not, and by the laws could not, interfere with Vedius\nPollio, or any private knight, in the treatment or government of\nhis slaves, who are deemed to be the absolute property of their\nrespective lords; what chance, then, that he should meddle, or, if he\nmeddled, that he should successfully meddle, with Tiberius C\u00e6sar on\nbehalf of an offending mance? And this too for the sake, remember,\nof a low-born girl? Women are accounted void of deathless souls,\nmy friend, even by some who suspect that men may be immortal. By\nastuteness, by beauty, not beauteously employed, and, above all, by\nthe effect of habit, imperceptible as a plant in its growth, stealthy\nas the prehensile ivy, some few individual women, like Livia,\nTiberius's mother, and Julia, Augustus's daughter, have acquired\ngreat accidental power. But to lay down the principle that the\nslightest trouble should be taken for these slaves, would in this\nRoman world raise a symphony of derision as musical as the cry of the\nThessalian hounds when their game is afoot.\"\n\nPaulus, buried in thought, stole a look full of pity toward the\nfurther end of the apartment. \"Slaves, women, laws, gladiators,\"\nhe muttered, \"and brute power prevalent as a god. Every day, noble\nAthenian, I learn something which fills me with hatred and scorn for\nthe system amid which we are living.\" He then told Dion the story of\nThellus and Alba; he next laid before him the exact circumstances of\nBenigna and Claudius; relating what had occurred that very morning,\nand by no means omitting the strange and wonder-fraught conversation\nat the door of the palace, after which he added,\n\n\"I declare to you solemnly--but then I am no more than an\nuninstructed youth, having neither your natural gifts nor your\nacquired knowledge--I never heard any thing more enchanting, more\nexalted, more consoling, and to my poor mind more reasonable, or\nmore probable, than that some god is quickly to come down from\nheaven and reform and control this abominable world. Why do I say\nprobable? Because it would be god-like to do it. I would ask nothing\nbetter, therefore, than to be allowed to join you and go with you\nall over the world; searching and well weighing whatever evidences\nand signs may be accessible to man's righteously discontented and\njustly wrathful industry in such a task; and I would be in your\ncompany when you explored and decided whether this sublime dream,\nthis noble, generous, compensating hope, this grand and surely divine\ntradition, be a truth, or, ah me! ah me! nothing but a vain poem of\nthe future--a beautiful promise never to be realized, the specious\nmockery of some cruel muse.\"\n\nDion's blue eyes kindled and burned, but he remained silent.\n\n\"In the mean time, listen further,\" added Paulus. \"What would the\ndivine being who is thus expected, were he in this room, deem of\nthis transaction before our eyes? You have heard the steward's\naccount of the horse Sejanus; you have heard Claudius's allusion to\nVedius Pollio's lampreys. Now, you are a wise, witty, and eloquent\nperson, and you can correct me if I say wrong--in what is the man\nwhom the horse Sejanus, for instance, throws and tears to pieces\nbetter than the horse? In what is the man whom the lampreys devour\nbetter than the lampreys? I say the horse and the lampreys are better\nthan the man, if mere power be a thing more to be esteemed and\nhonored than what is right, and just, and honorable, and estimable;\nfor the lampreys and the horse possess the greater might, most\nindubitably, in the cases mentioned. The elephant is stronger than\nwe, the hound is swifter, the raven lives much longer. Either the\nmere power to do a thing deserves my esteem more than any other\nobject or consideration, and therefore whoever can trample down his\nfellow-men, and gratify all his brutal instincts at the expense\nof their lives, their safety, their happiness, their reasonable\nfree-will, is more estimable than he who is just, truthful, kind,\ngenerous, and noble--either, I say, the man who is strong against\nhis fellows is more good than he who is good--and the words justice,\nright, gentleness, humanity, honor, keeping faith in promises, pity\nfor poor little women who are oppressed and brutally used, virtue,\nand such noises made by my tongue against my palate, express nothing\nwhich can be understood, nothing in which any mind can find any\nmeaning--either, I again say, the lampreys and the Sejan horse are\nmore to be esteemed, and valued, and loved than my sister and my\nmother, or it is not true that the mere power of Tiberius, combined\nwith the brutish inclination to do a thing, terminates the question\nwhether it is right to do it. The moment I like to do any thing, if\nI can do it, is it necessarily right that I should do it? The moment\ntwo persons have a difference, is it right for either of them, and\nequally right for each of them, to murder the other? But if it was\nthe intention of this great being, this god who is expected to appear\nimmediately among us, that we should be dependent upon each other,\neach doing for the other what the other cannot do for himself--and I\nam sure of it--then it will please him, Dion, if I consider what is\nhelpful and just and generous. Or am I wrong? Is virtue a dream? Are\ncontrary things in the same cases equally good? Are contrary things\nin the same cases equally beautiful?\n\n\"Are my brutish instincts or inclinations, which vary as things vary\nround me, my only law? Is each of us intended by this great being to\nbe at war with all the rest? to regard the positive power each of\nus may have as our sole restriction? to destroy and injure all the\nothers by whom we could be served, if we would for our parts also\nserve and help? And must women, for instance, being the weaker, be\nbrutally used? Tell me, Dion, will it please this great being if\nI try to render service to my fellow-men, who must have the same\nnatural claims to his consideration as I have? or does he wish me\nto hurt them and them to hurt me, according as we may each have the\npower? Is there nothing higher in a man than his external power of\naction? Answer--you are a philosopher.\"\n\nThe countenance of Dion blazed for one instant, as if the light of a\npassing torch had been shed upon a mirror, and then resumed the less\nvivid effulgence of that permanent intellectual beauty which was its\nordinary characteristic. He replied,\n\n\"All the philosophy that ever was taught or thought could not lead\nyou to truer conclusions.\"\n\n\"Then,\" returned Paulus, \"come back with me to the other end of the\nroom.\"\n\n\"Benigna,\" said Paulus, \"your kindness to my sister and mother, and\nyour natural probity, had something, I think, to do with beginning\nthis trouble in which you and your intended find yourselves. As you\nwere not unmindful of us, it is but right that we should not be\nunmindful of you. Tiberius permits any friend of Claudius the slave\nto be a substitute in breaking the horse Sejanus; and Claudius is\nto have his freedom and fifty thousand sesterces, and to marry you,\nwhom I see to be a good, honorable-hearted girl, all the same as if\nhe had complied with the terms in person. This was thoughtful and, I\nsuppose, generous of Tiberius C\u00e6sar.\"\n\n\"Would any of these youths who hear me,\" added he turning round,\n\"like to break the fine-looking steed at the games, before all the\npeople, instead of Claudius?\"\n\nNo one replied.\n\n\"It will be a distinguished act,\" persisted he.\n\nDead silence still.\n\n\"Then I will do it myself,\" he said. \"Magister, make a formal note of\nthe matter in your tablets; and be so good as to inform the C\u00e6sar of\nit, in order that I, on my side, may learn place and time.\"\n\nThe magister, with a low bow and a face expressing the most generous\nand boundless astonishment, grasped his prettily-mounted stylus,\nand taking the pengillarin from his girdle drew a long breath, and\nrequested Paulus to favor him with his name and address.\n\n\"I am,\" replied he, \"the knight Paulus Lepidus \u00c6milius, son of one\nof the victors at Philippi, nephew of the ex-triumvir. I reside at\nCrispus's inn, and am at present a promised prisoner of Velleius\nPaterculus, the military tribune.\"\n\nWhile the steward wrote in his tablets, Benigna uttered one or two\nlittle gasps and fairly fainted away. The slave Claudius saved her\nfrom falling, and he now placed her on a bench against the wall.\n\nPaulus, intimating that he would like to return to Crispus's hostelry\nbefore dark, and having learnt, in reply to a question, that Claudius\ncould procure from Thellus, the gladiator, a vehicle for Benigna, and\nthat he would request Thellus himself to convey her home, turned to\ntake leave of Dion.\n\nThe Athenian, however, said he would show him the way out of the\npalace. They went silent and thoughtful. In the impluvium they found\na little crowd surrounding Augustus, who had returned from his\npromenade to the camp, and who was throwing crumbs of bread among\nsome pigeons near the central fountain.\n\nTwo ladies were of the company, one of whom, in advanced age, was\nevidently the Empress Livia, but for whose influence and management\nGermanicus--certainly not her ungrateful son Tiberius--would have\nbeen the next master of the world. The other lady, who was past her\nprime, had still abundant vestiges of a beauty which must once have\nbeen very remarkable.\n\nShe was painted red and plastered white, with immense care, to look\nsome fifteen years younger than she truly was.\n\nHer countenance betrayed to a good physiognomist, at first glance,\nthe horrible life she had led. Paulus, whose experience was little,\nand, although she fastened upon him a flaming glance, which she\nintended to be full both of condescension and fascination, thought\nthat he had seldom seen a woman either more repulsive or more\ninsanely haughty.\n\nIt was Julia, the new and abhorred wife of Tiberius. Not long before,\nat the request of Augustus, who was always planning to dispose of\nJulia, Tiberius had given up for her the only woman he ever loved,\nAgrippina Marcella.\n\nTiberius so loved her, if it deserves to be termed love, that when,\nbeing thus deserted, she took another husband, (Asinius Gallus,) he,\nmad with jealousy, threw him into a dungeon and kept him there till\nhe died, as Suetonius and Tacitus record.\n\n\"Ah my Athenian!\" said the emperor to Dionysius, placing a hand\naffectionately on the youth's shoulder, \"could you satisfy me that\nthose splendid theories of yours are more than dreams and fancies;\nthat really there is one eternal, all-wise, and omnipotent spirit,\nwho made this universal frame of things, and governs it as an\nabsolute monarch; that he made us; that in us he made a spirit,\na soul, a ghost, a thinking principle, which will never die; and\nthat I, who am going down to the tomb, am only to change my mode of\nexistence; that I shall not wholly descend thither; that an urn will\nnot contain every thing which will remain of me; and all this in a\nvery different sense from that which poor Horace meant. But why speak\nof it? Has not Plato failed?\"\n\n\"Plato,\" replied Dionysius, \"neither quite failed nor is quite\nunderstood, illustrious emperor. But you were saying, if I could\nsatisfy you. Be pleased to finish. Grant I could satisfy you; what\nthen?\"\n\n\"Satisfy me that one eternal sovereign of the universe lives, and\nthat what now thinks in me,\" returned the emperor, while the courtly\ngroup made a circle, \"will never cease to think; that what is now\nconscious within me will be conscious for ever; that now, in more\nthan a mere poetical allusion to my fame--and on the word of Augustus\nC\u00e6sar, there is no reasonable request within the entire reach and\ncompass of my power which I will refuse you.\"\n\n\"And what sort of a hearing, emperor,\" inquired Dion, \"and under what\ncircumstances, and upon what conditions, will you be pleased to give\nme? and when? and where?\"\n\n\"In this palace, before the games end,\" replied Augustus. \"The\nhearing shall form an evening's entertainment for our whole circle\nand attendance. You shall sustain your doctrines, while our\ncelebrated advocates and orators, Antistius Labio and Domitius Afer,\nwho disagree with them, I know, shall oppose you. Let me see. The\nC\u00e6sars, Tiberius and Germanicus, with their ladies, and our host\nMamurra and his family, and all our circle, shall be present. Titus\nLivy, Lucius Varius, Velleius Paterculus, and the greatest orator\nRome ever produced, except Cicero\" (the old man 'mentioned with\nwatery eyes the incomparable genius to whose murder he had consented\nin his youth)--\"I mean Quintus Haterius--shall form a judicial jury.\nHaterius shall pronounce the sentence. Dare you face such an ordeal?\"\n\n\"I will accept it,\" replied the Athenian, blushing; \"I will accept\nthe ordeal with fear. Daring is contrasted with trembling; but,\nalthough my daring trembles, yet my trepidation dares.\"\n\n\"Oh! how enchanting!\" cried the august Julia; \"we shall hear\nthe eloquent Athenian.\" And she clasped her hands and sent an\nunutterable glance toward Dion, who saw it not.\n\n\"It will be very interesting indeed,\" added the aged empress.\n\n\"Better for once than even the mighty comedy of the palace,\" said\nLucius Varius.\n\n\"Better than the gladiators,\" added Velleius Paterculus.\n\n\"An idea worthy of the time of Virgil and M\u00e6cenas,\" said Titus Livy.\n\n\"Worthy of Augustus's time,\" subjoined Tiberius, who was leaning\nagainst one of the pillars which supported the gallery of the\nimpluvium.\n\n\"Worthy of his dotage,\" muttered Cneius Piso to Tiberius, with a\nscowl.\n\n\"Worthy,\" said a handsome man, with wavy, crisp, brown locks, in\nthe early prime of life, whose military tunic was crossed with the\nbroad purple stripe, \"worthy of Athens in the days of Plato; and as\nDemosthenes addressed the people after listening to the reporter of\nSocrates, so Haterius shall tell this company what he thinks, after\nlistening to Dion.\"\n\n\"Haterius is getting old,\" said Haterius.\n\n\"You may live,\" said Augustus, \"to be a hundred, but you will never\nbe old; just as our Cneius Piso here never was young.\"\n\nThere was a laugh. The Haterius in question was he to whom Ben\nJonson compared Shakespeare as a talker, and of whom, then past\neighty, Augustus used, Seneca tells us, to say that his careering\nthoughts resembled a chariot whose rapidity threatened to set\nits own wheels on fire, and that he required to be held by a\ndrag--\"_sufflaminandus_.\"\n\nDion now bowed and was moving away, followed modestly by Paulus,\nwho desired to draw no attention to himself, when the steward, or\n_magister_, glided quickly up the colonnade of the impluvium to the\npillar against which Tiberius was leaning, whispered something,\nhanded his tablets to the C\u00e6sar, and, in answer to a glance of\nsurprised inquiry, looked toward and indicated Paulus.\n\nTiberius immediately passed Paulus and Dion, saying in an under tone,\n\"Follow me,\" and led the way into a small empty chamber, of which,\nwhen the two youths had entered it, he closed the door.\n\n\"You are going to break the horse called Sejanus?\" said he, turning\nround and standing.\n\nPaulus assented.\n\n\"Then you must do so on the fourth day from this, in the\nreview-ground of the camp, an hour before sunset.\"\n\nPaulus bowed.\n\n\"Have you any thing to inquire, to request, or to observe?\" pursued\nTiberius.\n\n\"Am I to ride the horse muzzled, sir?\" asked the youth.\n\n\"The muzzle will be snatched off by a contrivance of the cavasson,\nafter you mount him,\" replied Tiberius, looking steadfastly at the\nother.\n\n\"Then, instead of a whip, may I carry any instrument I please in my\nhands?\" demanded Paulus; \"my sword, for example?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered Tiberius; \"but you must not injure the horse; he is\nof matchless price.\"\n\n\"But\" persisted Paulus, \"your justice, illustrious C\u00e6sar, will make\na distinction between any injury which the steed may do to himself\nand any which I may do to him. For instance, he might dash himself\nagainst some obstruction, or into the river Liris, and in trying to\nclamber out again might be harmed. Such injuries would be inflicted\nby himself, not by me. The hurt I shall do him either by spear, or by\nsword, or by any other instrument, will not be intended to touch his\nlife or his health, nor likely to do so. If I do make any scars, I\n_think_ the hair will grow again.\"\n\n\"He will not be so scrupulous on his side,\" said Tiberius; \"however,\nyour distinction is reasonable. Have you any thing else to ask?\"\n\n\"Certainly I have,\" said Paulus; \"it is that no one shall give him\nany food or drink, except what I myself shall bring, for twenty-four\nhours before I ride him.\"\n\nTiberius uttered a disagreeable laugh.\n\n\"Am I to let you starve Sejanus?\" he asked.\n\n\"That is not my meaning, sir,\" answered Paulus quietly. \"I will give\nhim as much corn and water as he will take. I wish to prevent him\nfrom having any other kind of provender. There are articles which\nwill make a horse drunk or mad.\"\n\n\"I agree,\" replied Tiberius, \"that he shall have only corn and water,\nprovided he have as much of both as my own servant wishes; nor have I\nany objection that the servant should receive these articles from you\nalone, or from your groom.\"\n\nPaulus inclined his head and kept silence.\n\n\"Nothing more to stipulate, I perceive,\" observed Tiberius.\n\nThe youth admitted that he had not; and, seeing the C\u00e6sar move, he\nopened the door, held it open while the great man passed through, and\nthen taking a friendly leave of Dion, hastily quitted the palace.\n\nTiberius, meeting Sejanus, took him aside and said,\n\n\"We have got rid of the brother! You must have every thing ready\nto convey her to Rome the fifth day from this. And now, enough of\nprivate matters. I am sick of them. The affairs of the empire await\nme!\"\n\n    TO BE CONTINUED.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[160] Suetonius, Pliny, and Seneca all attest the currency of this\nand similar jokes against Tiberius during his very lifetime.\n\n\n\n\nTHE ANCIENT IRISH CHURCHES.\n\nBY W. MAZIERE BRADY, D.D.\n\n\nIt was proposed, in the first draught of Mr. Gladstone's bill for the\ndisestablishment of the Irish Church, to erect some of the cathedrals\ninto national monuments, and to set apart toward the cost of their\nfuture repair a portion of the fund derived from the sale of church\ntemporalities. This clause, however, was set aside; but even if it\nhad been retained, it would not have given satisfaction. If it be the\nsincere desire of Mr. Gladstone to do justice to Catholic Ireland,\nand to conciliate her people, but one course remains open to him\nin regard to the ancient shrines of Catholic worship, namely, to\nrestore them to their original owners. Many of these cathedrals and\nchurches are altogether unsuited to the requirements of Protestant\nreligious service. Some of them are too large to be maintained by\nthe tiny congregations which occasionally visit them. Others require\na costly annual outlay too great to be undertaken at the expense of\nthe few families in whose neighborhood they lie. Would it not, then,\nmanifestly tend to the benefit alike of Catholics and Protestants,\nthat the latter, on terms advantageous to themselves, should yield\nto the former the possession of those buildings which Protestants do\nnot require for _bona-fide_ ends, but which possess, in the eyes of\nCatholics, a peculiarly sacred, and, at the same time, a perfectly\nlegitimate value?\n\nSome ancient Catholic temple is perhaps situated in a district\ninhabited by twenty or thirty Protestants, and five thousand or\nten thousand Catholics. The Protestants cannot fill a corner of\nthe spacious fabric. They attach no value to it as the shrine\nof a venerated saint. Its very capabilities for an ornate and\nsplendid Catholic ritual render it only the less fit for the simple\nrequirements of Protestant worship. Protestants can gain nothing\nby retaining such a temple, save the privilege of keeping it as a\ntrophy of a bygone and ill-omened ascendency. But if the British\nParliament were to ordain that such temples should be purchased\nfrom Protestants, who scarcely require them, and given to Catholics\nto supply their evident wants, then a visible proof would at once\nbe afforded to the Irish nation that disestablishment was no\ncoldly conceived or niggardly administered instalment of justice,\nbut a ready instrument for cordial reconciliation of creeds and\nnationalities.\n\nIt is ridiculous to urge as an objection, that Protestants in\ngeneral attach a value, other than a pecuniary or political one, to\nthe sites of the shrines of ancient Irish saints. Few Protestants\nhave any veneration for St. Patrick, St. Brigid, or St. Nicholas.\nNot one Protestant in a thousand has so much as even heard of the\nnames of St. Elbe, St. Aidan, St. Colman, or St. Molana. Irish\nProtestant bishops often deny the sacredness of holy places, and,\nwhen consecrating a site for the erection of a church, take the\nopportunity to explain such consecration to be a mere form of law.\nSome Protestant bishops entertained objections to the selection of\nany titles for churches, save those of Christ and his apostles. They\nthought it allowable to celebrate divine service in a building called\nChrist church, or St. Peter's, or St. John's, but conceived it to be\nscarcely tolerable and semi-popish to dedicate an edifice for worship\nunder the invocation of St. George, St. Patrick, or St. Michael. In\nsome dioceses in Ireland, during the last century, the consecration\nof Protestant churches was on several occasions designedly omitted\nin deference to such scruples of conscience. But the very names of\nthe ancient Irish saints are precious household words with Catholics,\nwho dearly prize the holy shrine, the sacred well, the hallowed ruins\nconsecrated by the lingering memories of the virgins, confessors,\nand martyrs whose lives were devoted to the conversion of Ireland.\nThe Catholic peasant, as he sorrowfully gazes upon the desecrated\nremains of some fallen abbey, or upon the mouldering walls of a\nroofless oratory, often breathes a hopeless prayer that an unexpected\nturn of fortune would once again fill with robed monks the arched\nand pillared cloisters, and replace the solemn solitary hermit in\nhis peaceful cell. The reconsecration of their sacred shrines and\ntemples, long defaced and profaned by neglect, would realize one\nof the fondest dreams of Irishmen. Why do not British statesmen\nutilize, for the general benefit of their country, the pious\nsentiments which, in a religious point of view, they as Protestants\nmay fail to appreciate, but which, in a political aspect, it seems\na criminal blindness to disregard? The legislators who freely vote\nimperial funds to provide Catholic priests and altars for Catholic\nsoldiers, sailors, convicts, and paupers, cannot possibly entertain\nreligious scruples against applying a portion of the ancient Catholic\nendowments of Ireland towards the purpose of restoring to their\noriginal uses some of the sites and shrines whose traditions are\nstill potent enough in Ireland to sway the national sympathies.\n\nNo injury can result to Protestantism from the adoption of a course\nwhich would not merely increase the pecuniary resources of their\nchurch, but also tend materially to promote peace and good-will\nbetween men of different creeds. There are many ancient churches in\nIreland which could be specified as almost useless to Protestants,\nbut yet most precious and valuable if placed in the hands of\nCatholics. Many of the old Irish cathedrals are entirely, and some\nare almost entirely deserted. Ardagh, founded by St. Patrick,\nwas reckoned among \"the most ancient cathedrals of Ireland.\" Its\nfirst bishop--St. Mell--was buried \"in his own church of Ardagh,\"\nwherein worship a few Protestants who care but little either for\nSt. Mell or St. Patrick. The entire Protestant population of Ardagh\nparish is less than one hundred and fifty, while the Catholics\nnumber nearly two and a half thousands. There is but a scanty\ncongregation of Protestants at Lismore, where St. Carthage, or at\nLeighlin, where St. Laserian was interred. At Howth, near Dublin,\nare the ruins--still capable of restoration--of a beautiful abbey\nand college. The college is occupied by poor tenants. The abbey is\nroofless, standing in a graveyard, choked with weeds and filth,\nof which the Protestant incumbent of the parish is custodian. St.\nCanice--the patron saint of Kilkenny--was buried, toward the end\nof the sixth century, at Aghadoe. \"Aghadoe\"--so wrote the Rev.\nM. Kelly, Professor of Ecclesiastical History in Maynooth, in his\n_Calendar of Irish Saints_--\"at present is a ruin, its walls nearly\nperfect, but, like too many similar edifices in Ireland, all profaned\nby sickening desecration. Around it still bloom in perennial verdure\nits far-famed pastures, in a plain naturally rich, and improved by\nthe monastic culture of a thousand years. The buildings are now used\nas ox-pens which were once the favorite home of the pilgrim and\nstranger.\" There are a score of other ruined temples like Aghadoe,\nwhich in their present condition are a disgrace to civilization; and\nyet are possessed of traditions which render them sacred in the eyes\nof Catholics, who would gladly rescue them from further decay and\nrestore them to their ancient use.\n\nEvery tourist in Connemara has doubtless visited the famous\ncollegiate church of St. Nicholas, in Galway. It is a vast temple,\ncapable of containing six or seven thousand worshippers. Its size,\nthe style of its architecture, and its historical traditions combine\nto render it eminently suitable to be the cathedral church of the\nCatholic population of Galway. It anciently was, not precisely\na cathedral, but the church of the Catholic warden--a dignitary\nwho possessed episcopal jurisdiction, being only subject to the\nvisitation of the Archbishop of Tuam. It is now the church of\nthe Protestant warden, or minister, who performs divine service,\naccording to the Anglican ritual, in a portion of the transept, for\nthe benefit of those members of the Anglican Church who inhabit the\nimmediate neighborhood. There is now no Protestant bishop resident in\nGalway, nor has any such functionary since the era of the Reformation\nmade Galway his headquarters. So that this once splendid building\nis absolutely thrown away upon Protestants, being above ten times\ntoo large for a parochial church, and being utterly useless to them\nfor a cathedral. The fabric of this grand relic from Catholicity\nhas been allowed to fall into decay to such an extent that about\nfive thousand pounds are now required to restore it or put it into\npermanent repair. It is unlikely that the Protestants of Galway will\ncontribute this sum, or take steps to prevent this noble national\nmonument from sinking, at no distant period, into hopeless ruin.\nThe population of the entire county of Galway consisted, in 1861,\nof 261,951 Catholics and 8202 Anglicans, only a few hundred of the\nlatter being residents in the town of Galway and its suburbs. The\nCatholic wardenship was changed into a bishopric by Pope Gregory\nXVI., in 1830, when Dr. French, who was then Bishop of Kilmacduagh\nand Kilfenora, and also Warden of Galway, retired to this diocese. In\nthe same year, Dr. Browne who was subsequently translated to Elphin,\nbecame the first Bishop of Galway. Neither Bishop Browne, nor his\nsuccessor Bishop O'Donnell, nor Dr. McEvilly, who became Bishop of\nGalway in 1857, were able to provide a suitable cathedral for the\nGalway Catholics. The present pro-cathedral affords accommodation to\nabout four thousand persons, and upon the occasion of missions is\nthronged to a dangerous excess. The Catholics of Galway would gladly\navail themselves of any opportunity which would render it possible\nfor them to obtain St. Nicholas, the church of their forefathers,\nfor a cathedral. The restoration to Catholic purposes of that\nedifice, which is a world too wide for Protestant wants, would confer\na singular benefit upon an immense number of Catholics, without\ninflicting the least injury upon Protestants. The present Anglican\nWarden of Galway is not young enough to enable him, by means of\ncommutation under Mr. Gladstone's bill to do much toward providing an\nendowment for his successors. The payment of a few thousand pounds,\nout of the funds of the Commissioners of Church Temporalities, to the\nGalway Protestants, in compensation for the loss of a fabric which\nthey find too large for use and too costly to repair, would enable\nthem not only to obtain a more convenient place of worship than the\ncorner of the spacious transept they now occupy, but also would help\nthem to provide the nucleus of a local endowment for Protestant\nministrations after the decease of the present warden.\n\nThe inhabitants of \"the city of the tribes\" entertain no higher\nveneration for the church of St. Nicholas than is felt by the men of\nMunster for the celebrated Rock of Cashel of the Kings. In ancient\nyears the \"Rock\" was a natural fortress, standing high over the\nsurrounding plain, and proudly overlooking the thronged city which\nlay beneath its shelter. Upon the elevated plateau which crowns the\nsubmit of the \"Rock,\" now stand the ruins of the former cathedral,\nand other ecclesiastical buildings, including the famous chapel of\nKing Cormac, all of which, to the infinite discredit of England, have\nlong since been deliberately abandoned to decay. The Protestants\nof Cashel ceased, somewhat more than a century ago, to occupy the\nold Catholic cathedral as a place of worship. Their archbishop, an\nEnglishman named Price, disliked the fatigue of ascending the gradual\nincline which leads to the \"Rock,\" and removed his throne to the\npresent cathedral, a barn-like edifice which stands on the level\nground near to the episcopal palace. In 1838, Dr. Laurence, the last\nProtestant Archbishop of Cashel, died, and the see being reduced to a\nbishopric in union with three other dioceses, the Protestant bishop\nselected for his residence the city of Waterford in preference to\nCashel. The beautiful cathedral, left roofless by Archbishop Price,\nand exposed since his time to the ravages of more than a hundred\nwinters, is nevertheless still capable of restoration. The fabric,\nand the site whereon the cathedral and the other ruins stand, are\nat present vested partly in the Protestant dean and chapter, and\npartly in the Vicars Choral of Cashel. Upon the death of these\nofficials, their rights will revert to the Commissioners of Church\nTemporalities. But these disestablished functionaries may perhaps\nfind it to their personal advantage, as well as to that of their\nchurch, to make an earlier surrender of their territorial privileges.\nWhenever the Commissioners of Temporalities shall have become the\nowners of the Rock of Cashel, they will have to consider what they\nwill do with it. They may determine to sell it, or else may transfer\nit as a burial-ground to the local poor-law guardians. Either\nalternative will be in the highest degree discreditable to British\nlegislation. There is something atrocious in the idea of offering by\npublic sale the temple whose almost every stone was marked by the\npious workmen with the mystic tokens of their craft, and upon whose\ndecoration kings were wont to lavish their choicest treasures to make\nit worthier for the worship of the Most High. It will be sacrilegious\nto submit to auction the soil wherein lies the mouldering dust of\ncountless priests and prelates, chieftains and princes. On the\nother hand, it will be miserable and pitiable in the extreme to\nconsign what may be termed the _Terra Sancta_ of ancient Ireland\nto the care of a pauper burial board. The zeal of rural guardians\nguided economically by the country squire, or his bailiff, would be\nworse even than the scornful vandalism of Archbishop Price. If the\ndead themselves could speak or feel, they would doubtless shudder\nin their tombs at the ring of the salesman's hammer, and protest\nwith equal horror against the indignity of including the repair of\ntheir graves amongst the items of the county poor-rate. They would\naccept, in preference to such degradation, the rude guardianship of\nthe elements. Nature, even when she destroys, is reverent, flinging\na green pall of ivy around the tower which her disintegrating arms\nencircle, and spreading a rich carpet of moss over the dust of those\nwhom she draws with the embrace of death to her bosom. The winds and\nwaves, the floods and storms, may bring a more rapid dissolution upon\ndeserted monuments of heroes, but at least they inflict no dishonor.\n\nBut why should the British Parliament suffer the national memorials\nof Ireland to perish without an effort to preserve them? It can be no\ngratification to the vanity of Great Britain thus to perpetuate, so\nlong as a trace of the ruined temple or broken altar may be spared,\nthe tokens of a policy able, indeed, to insult and to hinder, but\npowerless to supplant or destroy the faith of the Irish people.\nIt cannot, alas! be denied that England seized by force upon that\nCatholic church of Cashel, banished its priests, and employed, for\nthree centuries, its revenues to teach a hostile religion. That\npolicy has been reversed. It would be a mode, no less honorable\nthan wise, of confessing the folly and guilt of such a policy, were\nEngland to give back the ruins which have survived it, and allow the\nCatholic archbishop and clergy to restore and reconsecrate their\nancient cathedral and celebrate again Catholic worship upon the Rock\nof Cashel.\n\nLet us turn from Galway and Cashel to the metropolis of Ireland.\nIt was felt, so far back as the reign of Elizabeth, that two\nProtestant cathedrals were too many for Dublin. \"Here be in this\nlittle city\"--so wrote the lord-deputy to Walsingham in 1584--\"two\ngreat cathedral churches, richly endowed, and too near together for\nany good they do; the one of them, dedicated to St. Patrick, had\nin more superstitious reputation than the other, dedicated to the\nname of Christ, and for that respect only, though there were none\nother, fitter to be suppressed than continued.\"[161] And a few months\nlater, the same chief governor of Ireland again reminded the queen's\nsecretary of state of the uselessness of retaining St. Patrick's as\na cathedral. \"We have beside it,\" remarked Perrott, \"in the heart of\nthis city, Christ church, which is a sufficient cathedral, so as St.\nPatrick's is superfluous, except it be to maintain a few bad singers\nto satisfy the covetous humors of some, as much or more devoted to\nSt. Patrick's name than to Christ's.\"[162] The rabid Puritanism of\nLord-Deputy Perrott, who hoped that \"Christ would devour St. Patrick\nand a number of his devoted followers too,\"[163] was not utterly\ndevoid of truth and common sense. The maintenance of the cathedral\nof St. Patrick has rather proved a hinderance than a benefit to\nProtestants. Its revenues have not been sufficient to keep up a\nseparate choir of singers; for most of the St. Patrick's choirmen\nbelong also to Christ church, and their efficiency is impaired by\nbeing divided between two cathedrals. But whatever may be the value\nof St. Patrick's as a place for the performance of church music,\nits inutility as a place for Protestant worship is notorious. Its\nsituation is remote from the fashionable quarter of Dublin and from\nthose streets which Protestants inhabit. Many Protestants flock\nto St. Patrick's to hear the choral music, or, as they sometimes\nprofanely term it, \"Paddy's Opera;\" but very few, if any, attend\nthat cathedral for the purposes of prayer or worship. In fact, St.\nPatrick's, in 1870, is what it was three hundred years ago, not\nonly a superfluous cathedral, but one whose atmosphere is unsuited\nto the genius of Protestantism. There is no place in the Anglican\nritual for the apostle of Ireland. His memory is not an object of\nreligious veneration; nor was any day set apart for his honor by the\ncompilers of the Protestant liturgy. His name, like that of any other\nsaint, acts as a repellant, not as a stimulant, upon the devotion of\nProtestants. Sir Benjamin Guinness, who rescued from ruin the fabric\nof St. Patrick's, preferred to say his prayers and hear sermons\nelsewhere.\n\nNow that disestablishment has come upon the Protestant church, the\nevil of having two cathedrals in Dublin appears greater than ever.\nHow, possibly, can funds be provided by Protestants to maintain\nboth churches, Christ church and St. Patrick's? The latter had\nnearly fallen to decay but for the munificence of an individual.\nThe former is now in want of substantial repairs, absolutely\nnecessary to preserve it from ruin. Yet it is clearly the pecuniary\ninterest of Protestants to give up St. Patrick's rather than Christ\nchurch, because the money value of Christ church, such is its\npresent condition, is insignificant; while that of St. Patrick's\nis considerable enough to defray the charge of restoring Christ\nchurch, and to leave over and above a wide margin of surplus, which\nthe church body may employ as a Protestant endowment fund. The sum\nexpended by the late Sir Benjamin Guinness on St. Patrick's is said\nto have been \u00a3100,000; and, according to a recently printed estimate\nof Mr. Street, a London architect of eminence, the sum of \u00a38000 will\nbe sufficient to rebuild one of the side aisles of Christ church, and\nput the rest of the building into a condition of permanent repair.\n\nBut there are other and more important considerations which make\nChrist church the more desirable cathedral for Protestants to\nretain. It is the old Chapel Royal of Dublin, the place where the\ndeputies and chief governors were formerly sworn into office, and\nwhere the state sermons were preached before the lords and commons\nof the Irish parliament. The lord-lieutenant's pew is at present\nfrequently attended by members of the viceregal staff and other\ngovernment officials. The situation of Christ church in the immediate\nvicinity of the castle renders it suitable to be preserved as the\nstate church in Dublin for the accommodation of royal visitors and\nProtestant viceroys. Christ church, moreover, is beyond question the\nchief cathedral of the Protestant archbishop and clergy of Dublin.\nThe members of its chapter are few in number, consisting of a dean,\narchdeacon, treasurer, chancellor, and three prebendaries. The\nProtestant church body, if it determines upon supporting cathedral\nfunctionaries at all in Dublin, may find it practicable to do so\nwith efficiency and some show of dignity in Christ church, without\nbreaking up, or materially altering, the present constitution of\nthe chapter. It is likely, moreover, that the Duke of Leinster,\nthe head of the Protestant nobility of Ireland, who will receive a\nconsiderable sum of money under the church act, in compensation for\nthe loss of his church patronage, will be glad to contribute toward\nthe support of Christ church as the Protestant cathedral, especially\nas it is the ancient burial place of many of his ancestors, so\nfamous in Irish annals under their historical title of Earls of\nKildare.\n\nTo Catholics the gift of St. Patrick's would be precious, as the\nrestoration to them of a cathedral which from its traditions has\nsurpassing claims to their veneration. Their present pro-cathedral\nis regarded only as a temporary one, and possesses no historical\nmemories to stir the feelings of its congregation. The constitution\nof the Catholic diocese of Dublin follows the model of St. Patrick's\nas far as regards the number and titles of the prebendaries; and\nlittle, if any, change would be necessary to render that cathedral\nfully answerable to the requirements of Catholic worship. And very\nglorious, truly, are the memories and traditions which cluster\naround the spot whereon St. Patrick himself erected a church, and\nhallowed it by his name. Near it was the fountain in whose waters\nthe apostle baptized Alphin, the heathen king of Dublin. Usher,\nthe learned Protestant antiquary and divine, tells us that he had\nseen this fountain; that it stood near the steeple; and that, a\nlittle before the year 1639, it was shut up and inclosed within a\nprivate house. The temple, built by Archbishop Comyn, on the site\nof the ancient church of Patrick, was styled by Sir James Ware\n\"the noblest cathedral in the kingdom.\" It was dedicated to God,\nthe Blessed Virgin Mary, and St. Patrick. It was the burial-place\nof many Catholic prelates. In it were interred Fulk de Saunford\nand his brother John, and Alexander de Bicknor. Richard Talbot,\nbrother to the famous earl, had his last resting-place before the\nhigh altar. Near the altar of St. Stephen lay Michael Tregury.\nThree other Catholic archbishops, namely, Walter Fitzsimons,\nWilliam Rokeby, and Hugh Inge, were entombed in St. Patrick's in\nthe early part of the sixteenth century--the last-named prelate\ndying in the year 1528. When the Reformation came, and when Henry\nVIII. attempted to force it upon Ireland against the will of the\nhierarchy and people, the cathedral of St. Patrick became exposed\nto the hostilities of the English despot and of Archbishop Browne,\nhis agent. The new doctrines were urged in vain by that prelate,\nwho is described by Ware as \"the first of the clergy who embraced\nthe Reformation in Ireland.\" The king's commission was as little\nrespected as the homilies of Archbishop Browne, who advised the\ncalling of a parliament to pass the supremacy by act, and wrote to\nLord Cromwell, in 1638, complaining that \"_the reliques and images\nof both his cathedrals took the common people from the true worship,\nand desiring a more explicit order for their removal_,\" and for\nthe aid of the lord-deputy's troops in carrying out his unpopular\ndesigns. The clergy of St. Patrick's made so vigorous a stand against\nthe reforming archbishop, that many of them were deprived of their\npreferments, and the cathedral itself was suppressed for nearly\neight years, during Browne's incumbency. On Queen Mary's accession,\nSt. Patrick's again resumed its Catholic splendor and dignity, but\nonly to lose them once more when her successor, Elizabeth, thought\nit necessary for the security of her throne to remove utterly, if\npossible, the Catholic faith from her dominions. Thus the fortunes of\nSt. Patrick's cathedral were, in a measure, identified with those of\nthe Catholic religion in Ireland.\n\n\"The name of no apostle or evangelist,\" as was well remarked by Dr.\nManning, the Archbishop of Westminster, in his sermon at Rome on\nthe anniversary of St. Patrick, \"carries with it a wider influence\nthan that of the Apostle of Ireland, if we except only St. Peter,\nthe prince of the apostles. No apostle or saint--Peter excepted--has\nso many millions of spiritual followers as Patrick. The Catholic\nhierarchy in England owes its origin to Patrick, through the Irish\nimmigrants into Liverpool, Bristol, Birmingham, London, and other\ngreat manufacturing and commercial cities. The vast Catholic\nhierarchies in America, Australia, New Zealand, and other colonies\nof Great Britain, trace, in like manner, their spiritual lineage to\nIreland and St. Patrick. Within the hall of the great Council of the\nVatican St. Patrick counts more bishops for his children than any\nother saint, save Peter; for the prelates deriving their faith from\nIreland are more numerous than those of any other nationality. And\nno apostle (Peter always excepted) has his anniversary celebrated in\nso many countries and with such demonstrations of joy as Patrick.\"\nSuch indeed is the magic power, if the expression be permitted,\nwhich the very name of St. Patrick exercises over Irish Catholics\nin all parts of the world, that the restoration of St. Patrick's\ncathedral would be regarded by them as something far greater than\nthe mere donation of a cathedral to the Dublin diocese. It would be\nreceived as a convincing sign that the demon of envenomed distrust\nhas been exorcised, and that thenceforth English Protestants, as\nthey have already long ceased to persecute Irish Catholicism by\npenal laws, would likewise abandon the indirect mode of persecution\nwhich consists in suspicion, falsification, and slander, in\nwithholding cordiality, and in retaining, after the dog-in-the-manger\nfashion, what is useless to Protestants, for no apparent reason\nbut to manifest a dislike to Catholics. It is with nations as with\nfamilies or individuals. Two families, formerly at enmity and but\nlately reconciled, can hardly be said to enjoy a solid or thorough\nfriendship so long as one of them causelessly keeps back the family\npictures or sacred heirlooms of the other. France and England never\ncould have entertained mutual sentiments of respect, if England had\nbeen so foolish or so malicious as to keep in St. Helena the body of\nNapoleon. The heirlooms whose restoration would have the happiest\neffect in bringing about amity between the English and Irish nations,\nare the ancient sacred places of Ireland.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[161] See _State Papers concerning the Irish Church in the Time of\nQueen Elizabeth_, etc. By W. Maziere Brady, D.D. London: Longmans.\n1868. Page 90.\n\n[162] Ibid. page 92.\n\n[163] Ibid. page 91.\n\n\n\n\nA LEGEND OF THE INFANT JESUS.[164]\n\n\n    In a small chapel, rich with carving quaint\n      Of mystic symbols and devices bold,\n    Where glowed the face of many a pictured saint\n      From windows high, in gorgeous drapery's fold,\n    And one large mellowed painting o'er the shrine\n      Showed in the arms of Mary--mother mild--\n    Down-looking with a tenderness divine\n      In his clear shining eyes, the Holy Child--\n\n    Two little brothers, orphans young and fair,\n      Who came in sacred lessons to be taught,\n    Waited, as every day they waited there,\n      Till Frey Bernardo came, his pupils sought,\n    And fed his Master's lambs. Most innocent\n      Of evil knowledge or of worldly lure\n    Those children were; from e'en the slightest taint\n      Had Jesu's blood their guileless souls kept pure!\n\n    A pious man that good Dominican,\n      Whose life with gentle charities was crowned;\n    His duties in the church as sacristan,\n      For hours in daily routine kept him bound,\n    While that young pair awaited his release\n      Seated upon the altar-steps, or spread\n    Thereon their morning meal, and ate in peace\n      And simple thankfulness their fruit and bread.\n\n    And often did their lifted glances meet\n      The Infant Jesu's eyes; and oft he smiled--\n    So thought the children; sympathy so sweet\n      Brought blessing to them from the Blessed Child!\n    Until one day when Frey Bernardo came,\n      The little ones ran forth; with clasping hold\n    Each seized his hand, and each with wild acclaim,\n      In eager words the tale of wonder told:\n\n    \"O father, father!\" both the children cried,\n      \"The _caro_ Jesu! He has heard our prayer!\n    We prayed him to come down and sit beside\n      Us as we ate, and of our feast take share:\n    And he came down, and tasted of our bread,\n      And sat and smiled upon us, father dear!\"\n    Pallid with strange amaze, Bernardo said,\n      \"Grace beyond marvel! Hath the Lord been here?\n\n    \"The heaven of heavens his dwelling--doth he deign\n      To visit little children? Favored ye\n    Beyond all those on earthly thrones who reign,\n      In having seen this strangest mystery!\n    O lambs of his dear flock! to-morrow pray\n      Jesu to come again to grace your board\n    And sup with you; and if he comes, then say,\n      'Bid us to thy own table, blessed Lord!'\n\n    \"'Our master too!' do not forget to plead\n      For me, dear children! In humility\n    I will entreat him your meek prayer to heed,\n      That so his mercy may extend to me!\"\n    Then, a hand laying on each lovely head,\n      Devoutly the old man the children blessed:\n    \"Come early on the morrow morn,\" he said;\n      \"To meet--if such his will--your heavenly Guest!\"\n\n    To meet their pastor by the next noon ran\n      The youthful pair, their eyes with rapture bright;\n    \"He came!\" their happy lisping tongues began;\n      \"He says we all shall sup with him to-night!\n    Thou too, dear father; for we could not come\n      Alone, without our faithful friend--we said;\n    Oh! be thou sure our pleadings were not dumb,\n      Till Jesu smiled consent, and bowed his head.\"\n\n    In thankful joy Bernardo prostrate fell,\n      And through the hours he lay entranced in prayer;\n    Until the solemn sound of vesper bell\n      Aroused him, breaking on the silent air.\n    Then rose he calm, and when the psalms were o'er\n      And in the aisles the chant had died away,\n    With soul still bowed his Master to adore,\n      Alone he watched the fast departing day.\n\n    Two silvery voices, calling through the gloom\n      With seraph sweetness, reached his listening ear;\n    And swiftly passing 'neath the lofty dome,\n      Soon side by side he and his children dear\n    Entered the ancient chapel consecrate\n      By grace mysterious. Kneeling at the shrine,\n    Before which robed in sacerdotal state,\n      That morning he had blessed the bread and wine,\n\n    Bernardo prayed. And then the chosen three\n      Partook the sacred hosts the priest had blessed,\n    Viaticum for those so soon to be\n      Borne to the country of eternal rest;\n    Bidden that night to sup with Christ! in faith\n      Waiting for him, their Lord beloved, to come\n    And lead them upward from this land of death\n      To live for ever in his Father's home!\n\n    In that same chapel, kneeling in their place,\n      All were found dead; their hands still clasped in prayer;\n    Their eyes uplifted to the Saviour's face,\n      The hallowed peace of heaven abiding there!\n    While thousands came that wondrous scene to view,\n      And hear the story of the chosen three;\n    Thence gathering the lesson deep and true--\n      It is the crown of life with Christ to be.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[164] Frey Luis de Sonsa, in the _History of the Dominican Order in\nPortugal_, relates this legend. The legend of the Infant Saviour\ncoming to play with a child has been embodied in the poetry of many\nlanguages, especially the German.\n\n\n\n\nPHASES OF ENGLISH PROTESTANTISM.\n\n\nA man with the peculiar turn of Dr. Temple[165] for finding results\nof the past in the present, might perhaps be inclined to trace\nthe time-honored cry of the English Protestants, \"No popery!\" to\nthe temper of Henry VIII., who retained the whole of the Catholic\ndoctrine in his creed except the supremacy of the pope. A Catholic\nwill with good reason see in it a testimony from enemies to the unity\nof the church through the successor of St. Peter. The historian\nwill point to the fact that Protestants have from the beginning\nagreed only in one thing, hostility to the church. The _Protest_\nof 1529, from which they take their name, is the first example we\nhave in history of a thing with which modern times are familiar--an\narrangement on the part of those who, as the phrase goes, \"agree in\nessentials,\" to act together for a time in order to accomplish some\ncommon end. In a similar way we saw Dr. Pusey take part in 1865\nwith the liberals, in order to promote the election of Mr. Gladstone\nas member for the University of Oxford. He afterward coquetted\nunsuccessfully with the Methodists. And last year he offered to join\nwith the evangelicals in a protest against the elevation of Dr.\nTemple to the see of Exeter. Yet whatever may have been the case\nin times past, we should have supposed that the futility of such\ncoalitions in these days had been long sufficiently evident. Dr.\nPusey, we imagine, now feels little pleasure at having Mr. Gladstone\nat the head of affairs; and if the evangelicals had accepted his\noffer instead of rejecting it, he would have found out in the end\nthat he had paid much for their help, and got very little by it.\n\nBy looking back to the circumstances in which Protestantism began,\nwe find an explanation of its marked features--the variety of its\ndifferences, the fact that these find some common ground in the cry,\n\"No popery!\" and the inevitably logical tendency of Protestantism\nto dissolve into latitudinarianism. Of these the first two scarcely\nrequire to be illustrated; yet we may notice one singular illusion\nwhich has done more than any thing else to give a fictitious unity\nto the Protestant sects, and to invest their protest with a certain\nair of virtuous indignation; we refer to the common belief that the\nBible is in some sense their peculiar possession, which springs from\nthe doctrine that, so long as a man professes to get his creed out of\nthe Bible, and the Bible only, it matters little of what articles his\ncreed consists. This fiction has done good service in its day; but\nthe Protestants are now likely to be worried by the fiend with which\nthey used to conjure. They received the Bible from the church, and\nthey turned it against the church. Now they find it in the hands of\nthe modern critical school turned against themselves.\n\nThat the Protestants who separated from the church should have been\nable to accept Scripture as binding upon them, is not strange;\nalthough to a philosophical mind at the present day, the Protestant\ntheory must present insurmountable difficulties. When men break\noff from a system in which they were born and bred, they cannot,\nif they would, make of their minds a _tabula rasa_, freed from all\nprejudices and associations, ready to receive whatever can be proved\npurely _a priori_. To attempt this would be to attempt to move the\nworld without a fulcrum. The question, What can be proved _a priori_?\nis one which requires the course of many generations only for its\nstatement; as for its solution, that may be said to have proved\nitself impossible. Men are obliged, when they change their opinions\nin some respects, to allow their conduct to be influenced by those\nopinions which they do not change; and in some cases it happens that\nit is impossible, upon any _a priori_ ground whatever, to draw the\nline between what they keep and what they reject. So it was at the\nfoundation of Protestantism; and the effects of the modern \"universal\nsolvent\" are due to what we have just stated, that, taking what\n_a priori_ ground you will, there is none which will support the\nProtestant without landing him at last in contradiction or absurdity.\nThus, men in the sixteenth century could easily accept theories of\nScripture interpretation which are now found to be untenable; and the\nresult is fatal to those who are so deeply committed to the untenable\ntheories that the loss of them involves the loss of their whole\nintellectual groundwork.\n\nFor the Protestants cannot, as the Catholic can, point to the\nstriking fact of a general agreement extending over many centuries.\nWe know that the Protestant critics profess to pick holes in the\nCatholic claim to general agreement; but what a beggarly appearance\nthese attempts present when they are contrasted with the whole extent\nof the subject! What is the value of the few specks they point out\nin the vast current of ecclesiastical history? They find so little\nto say, that what they say is proved to be the exception and not the\nrule. But if we turn to their own case, what a difference do we find!\nThere we have no question of pointing out flaws here and there; it\nis all one mass of flaws. Protestants may attack the claim of the\nchurch; but they themselves are not able so much as to put forward\na claim. Nor do they venture to claim unity; some even avow their\npreference for diversity. Yet in practice we find them all acting as\nthough each thought himself infallible.\n\nThis is the result of a very common human weakness. Just as the\nfounders of Protestantism could quietly acquiesce in many things\nwhich they had imbibed from the Catholic world in which they were\neducated, so their successors quietly acquiesce in what comes to them\nfrom their fathers; and in both cases there is much which cannot be\nsystematically exhibited without contradiction. But very few men care\nto set about the systematic exhibition of all that they profess to\nbelieve or to act upon. If it were otherwise, the Protestant theories\nof Scripture would never have been set up; and they are now falling\nbefore the exertions of men who insist upon having a clear view of\nwhat they are called upon to believe. When the reformers made their\nappeal to Scripture, it was impossible for men of different tempers,\nhabits, and associations to agree upon matters of interpretation,\neven if the appeal had been made in good faith. As it was, the appeal\nwas made subject to certain foregone conclusions, none of which,\nperhaps, could have been deduced from the mere text by any scientific\nprocess of exegesis. Servetus could not find the doctrine of the Holy\nTrinity in the Bible; and though he was little if at all to blame,\naccording to Protestant principles, Calvin thought this failure\nworthy of death. Luther found in the Epistle of St. James much more\nthan he wanted, and therefore he ejected it from the canon. Thus the\nappearance of an appeal to a common standard is an appearance only.\nIt has been found to cover the widest variations both of doctrine\nand ritual. The only result of professing to be bound by the Bible\nis, that the text is wrested to mean any thing. No single system of\nexegesis, strictly applied throughout and deprived of all external\nsuggestion or comment, will elicit a consistent whole from the\ndeclarations of Scripture. All sects can produce some texts in their\nfavor, and all find some texts which they are obliged to explain\naway. Inquirers are supposed to bring to the task of examination a\nprevious reservation in favor of the doctrines of their peculiar\nsect. If they do not, they are denounced as traitors and unbelievers,\nin spite of the ostentatious demand for a free inquiry. When Mr.\nJowett proposed to use for the elucidation of Scripture those aids\nand methods which scholars have applied with great success to the\nprofane classics, he was met with something more than outcry; he\nwas actually persecuted. Yet his persecutors, who kept his salary\nas professor of Greek down to forty pounds per annum when the other\nsimilar professorships were raised in value to four hundred pounds,\nhad nothing to offer by way of reason against his proposal. They\nstooped to effect their object by using the blind prejudices of\ncountry clergymen.\n\nWhile the name of Scripture has always commanded respect, and in\nthis way a sort of pretended unity has seemed to bind together the\nsects of Protestantism, every generation has seen less and less\nground for establishing any thing like real visible communion.\nScripture is useless to this end, because every party insists that\nit has Scripture on its side. Since Luther and Melancthon conferred\nat Marburg with \u0152colampadius and Zwingli, the futility of\nconferences has been growing more and more manifest. But so soon as\nmen despair of establishing union by convincing their opponents,\nthey are driven, if they desire union, to propose compromise as the\nbasis upon which to found it; and in religious matters, compromise\nmeans the surrender of faith to expediency. Many attempts have been\nmade to induce the sects to coalesce by declaring only that to be\nobligatory in dogma which is common to all, leaving every thing else\nin the region of pious opinion; but a very natural and even laudable\nparty obstinacy has always brought these attempts to nothing. The\nonly persons who can approach such compromises with a safe conscience\nare latitudinarians, whose fundamental principle is the denial that\nany dogma is of necessity to salvation; and to the latitudinarian\nthis privilege is useless, because his overtures are superfluous if\nmade to latitudinarians, while they are sure to be rejected by the\ndogmatists. Yet it is hard for the dogmatic Protestant to justify\nthe religious scruple which makes him unwilling to treat with the\nlatitudinarian; for he is cut off from the appeal to the \"faith\nonce delivered to the saints,\" and forced to take up his position\non ground which can equally well be claimed by his opponents. The\nscruples of either side are called prejudices by the other; and\nneither can rebut the accusation upon solid grounds of reason. A\nposition like this is unstable; and though habit will enable a given\nset of men to hold their ground firmly against mere argument, yet\nargument does tell in the long run, and an unreasonable position\ncannot with security be handed on to the next generation. For the\nnext generation is not born under the same circumstances as the\nformer; and so it often happens that the habit which swayed the\nfathers is not formed in the children. Bit by bit the ill-established\ncreed rots away, as the \"universal solvent\" is brought to bear upon\nthe whole; and thus successive generations of Protestants are apt to\nbe pushed nearer and nearer to latitudinarianism, sometimes without\nany notice being taken of the change. At length, perhaps, we see\nmatters culminate in some portentous vagary, like that society which\nnow exists, or existed not long since in London, which proposes to\nunite upon the basis of assenting to nothing at all.\n\nThe connection between faith and reason, and the influence which\nintellectual processes may lawfully exercise upon religious belief,\nare questions of profound difficulty. But without attempting to\ndraw the line exactly between what is right and what is wrong, it\nmay be possible to assert with confidence of particular cases that\nthey lie on this or that side of the line. We would not rashly\nencourage persons who have been brought up in any dogmatic system,\nhowever ill-grounded or erroneous we may think their belief, to\nset about mocking their hereditary faith upon the strength of a\nshallow scepticism; still less would we employ ridicule against\nerrors which cannot be ridiculed without shocking deep convictions;\nbecause we think that the cause of truth, in the long run, loses\nmore than it gains by such means. But the logical weakness of the\nProtestant position is made apparent by the fact that it always does\ngive way before reason. England has passed through many phases,\nand one of these was a phase of rationalism, that is, of appealing\nto reason only as the ultimate ground of religious belief. During\nthat period the popular religion sank into a vague deism, together\nwith a practical code of moral decency. Yet, during that time--the\neighteenth century--the Church of England was peculiarly rich in\nmen whom she esteemed great divines; but theology is excluded from\nthe pages of these theologians. We find little beyond exhortations\nto the practice of virtue, grounded upon appeals to good feeling\nand the hope of reward; and what ought to be the dogmatic side of\ntheir teaching is occupied with proofs of the reasonableness of\nChristianity, or with statements of the evidences of Christianity--a\nChristianity which, in the popular mind, had lost all hold upon the\ndivinity of Christ. Here, then, the old Protestant dogmatic position\nhad gone down before reason; and its fall is the more notable because\nreason was not polemically directed against it. The men who had\nrenounced the dogmatic position were the champions of the church,\nnor had they the least suspicion that they had surrendered every\nthing to the other side except an empty title. Circumstances had\nforced them to take their stand upon reason; and dogma was quietly\nand instinctively dropped out of sight, simply because it could not\nbe defended by them in their position upon that ground. We shall see\npresently how close, at this time, was the resemblance between the\northodox and the deist.\n\nBut in the change of circumstances, which is the result of the course\nof time, there is something to compensate for this sinking and\nloosening of the dogmatic foundations of the Protestants. Something\nis gained in the greater ease with which later generations can shut\ntheir eyes to the presence of certain troublesome facts; and this is\nwhat Catholics mean when they speak of the children of schismatics\nas being less responsible than their fathers for the schism in which\nthey find themselves. While the old Protestants were quite ready\nto take the Bible upon trust, they felt the force of certain texts\nwhich do not at all trouble their successors. No modern evangelical\nor Presbyterian feels any qualm of suspicion when he reads the\nwords, \"This is my body,\" nor does he trouble himself to seek out a\nplausible explanation. Macaulay said that \"the absurdity of a literal\ninterpretation was as great and as obvious in the sixteenth century\nas it is now.\" But, at all events, there is this great difference\nbetween the two centuries: that in the sixteenth, men felt bound to\ngive some meaning to the text, while now, in the nineteenth, they\nfeel able to pass it over without giving to it any meaning at all.\n\u0152colampadius and Zwingli were at the head of the two principal\nsections of the sacramentarian party, who denied all real presence,\nand reduced the eucharist to a mere commemorative rite. There stood\nthe text, and they felt bound to explain it somehow, so that it might\nagree with their opinions. They assigned the same general meaning to\nthe whole, but they could not agree on the question whether \"is\" or\n\"body\" must be interpreted by a kind of metonymy, that is, saying one\nthing and meaning another. The subject is not a fit one for laughter;\nbut it is hard to read without laughing that Andrew Carlstadt\nthought our Lord pointed to his natural body, when he uttered the\nwords of the text. Men must be sore pressed before they will execute\nsuch wrigglings as these; and there are many signs of the existence\nof similar pressures at that day, from which modern Protestants\nare more or less relieved. Thus, Calvin was obliged for the sake\nof consistency to declare that Scripture shines by its own light;\nwhile the moderns can act as if it did without being obliged to say\nso. Again, when Archbishop Heath and his fellow-sufferers protested\nagainst their deprivation by Queen Elizabeth, she felt bound to make\nsome attempt to argue from the fathers against the supremacy of the\npope, though she could have found no pleasure in the task, because\nshe had so little to say for herself. Now, when a modern Protestant\nuses arguments of this sort, it is only to satisfy his own private\nwhims or scruples; but Elizabeth was peremptorily called upon to\ndefend herself against adverse public opinion.\n\nNothing seems simpler to a modern Protestant than that a man should\ntake his stand on \"the Bible, and the Bible only;\" nothing seems more\nstrange to any one who has considered the various ultimate grounds\nand hypotheses upon which religious belief may be supposed to rest.\nIt is not necessary to be always obtruding the question of ultimate\ngrounds upon men's notice, because it is not required that all who\nbelieve shall be able to produce an accurate statement of the true\nultimate grounds of their belief. But such grounds must be supposed\nto exist, and to be capable of accurate statement; and the statement\nof them is, at any rate, fatal to the Protestant position. We have\nseen how dogmatic theology disappeared from the popular mind under\nthe rationalism of the eighteenth century. And at the time of the\nFrench revolution, it was found that when men deserted the church,\nthey did not take their stand upon the Bible, but on atheism; and\nthat when they ceased to be atheists, they became Catholics again,\nnot Protestants; nor has Protestantism ever made any large number of\nconverts, except in the sixteenth century. This was a sore puzzle\nto Macaulay, as he himself declares; but it is easily explained on\nthe principles we have laid down. In the sixteenth century, men\nhad no thought of inquiring about ultimate grounds of belief; they\nwere determined to believe something, and they looked about for any\nproximate ground which was near at hand and plausible in appearance.\nAt the end of the eighteenth century, the question of ultimate\ngrounds had occurred to many, and they had answered that there were\nultimately no grounds for believing any religion at all. When they\nchanged this opinion, and determined to have a religious belief, they\ndid not take up the Protestant position, because it was exploded;\nand the proof that it was exploded lies in the fact that they did\nnot take it up. They could no longer play the part of arbitrary\neclectics, selecting what they chose and rejecting what they chose\nfrom the Catholic system. They could not follow the example of\nCalvin, who first stopped short where he did, and then helped\nto burn[166] Servetus for going a few steps further. The French\nrevolutionists were without any of those convenient traditional drags\nwhich hamper movement, and enable men to stop short at arbitrary\npoints. They ruthlessly carried out their principles into the wildest\nand most ferocious excesses, things for which no logical consistency\nwill compensate; but they _did_ carry them out. Therefore they were\nin some sense incapacitated for becoming Protestants, because they\nhad once known what it was to carry out principles, and there is no\nset of principles whatever, which, if vigorously carried out, will\nland a man in Protestantism.\n\nMen who found their belief upon the Bible alone, have first to\ndetermine the canon, then to settle the text, and lastly to interpret\nit. They have three questions to answer: 1. How is it known that\nthe Bible is, as a whole, the word of God? 2. How is it known that\nthe text is free from material corruption? 3. When men differ about\nits meaning, as they notoriously do, who is to decide between them?\nUntil a reply is found to these questions, their position is open to\nattacks which cannot justly be stigmatized as the result of a shallow\nscepticism; and the best proof of this is the fact that it always\ngoes down before reason. One or two men of learning and ability may\nbe found to abide by the ancient ways; but they are deserted by the\ngreat majority of their fellows, and therefore they are the exception\nand not the rule. Who can pretend to doubt in what direction the\nwhole of the learning and ability among the undergraduates of Oxford\nhas been moving of late years? With hardly an exception, all the\nmost promising among the young men have been moving away from those\nstand-points which Dr. Pusey finds necessary to his position as a\nProtestant; and if there be any exception to this general movement,\nhe only marks the motion of the stream by standing still himself.\nThis is because our three questions remain unanswered, while those\nwho attempt to find such an answer as shall be acceptable to a\nrational mind, are denounced and persecuted. Yet these so-called\nliberals have a right to demand to be heard, and to be allowed to\nmake out what they can by fair argument; nor has Dr. Pusey any right\nto be shocked when they find things in Scripture which he does not,\nexcept upon grounds which, if he would rigorously carry them out,\nwould make him a Catholic. In his present position, we cannot guess\nhow he would attempt to answer Charlotte Elizabeth, that great\ndeparted light of the extreme evangelicals. An acquaintance once\nsuggested a doubt about the inspiration of the book of Revelation\nin these words: \"You are a person of too much sense to believe that\nthe binding up of certain leaves between the covers of the Bible\nmakes them a part of it.\" This, in fact, raised the question how the\ncanon is to be determined; and Charlotte Elizabeth was staggered\nfor a moment, as she herself tells us. But the battle was turned\nby the following reply, which she piously believed to be dictated\nby God: \"If you can persuade me that the book of Revelation is not\ninspired, another person may do the same with regard to the book of\nGenesis; and so of all that lie between them, till the whole Bible\nis taken from me. That will never do,\" etc. Having thus determined\nthe canon, she promptly provides the interpreter. \"Man can tell me\nno more than that God has clearly revealed\" the Calvinistic doctrine\nof election and reprobation; \"therefore, man cannot strengthen a\nbelief founded on the sure word of God; _or if he tells me it is\nnot revealed, I know that it is; because I have found it so, and\nrelinquish it I never can_.\" (_Personal Recollections of Charlotte\nElizabeth_, third edition, p. 134. The other passage quoted is at\np. 130.) Charlotte Elizabeth, upon the strength of this, deals out\nthe most uncompromising damnation to those who _have found that it\nis not_. And Dr. Pusey's estimable friend, Mr. Burgon, is equally\nferocious toward those who doubt whether every syllable, point, jot,\ntittle, and full stop in the Bible is the express act of God. It\nwould be impossible, we suppose, to convert the wood-and-leather man\nof Martinus Scriblerus, even though he \"should reason as well as most\nof your country parsons.\"\n\nPolitical circumstances have given such peculiar interest to the\ncareer of the Church of England that it deserves to be placed in\na class by itself, apart from the other schismatical bodies which\nsprang up at the Reformation. Amid the storms of theological\ncontroversy she has always found a dubious sheet-anchor in the state,\nwhich secured to her a certain stability of political position, while\nit allowed her to drift through many widely different doctrinal\nphases. The tameness with which she veered about at the bidding of\nsuccessive sovereigns, and the ease with which great changes were\neffected in her constitution, show that, in puritan phrase, her heart\nwas not in the work. Historians are equally astonished at the power\nof the crown and the pusillanimity of the people. And there is ground\nfor astonishment, though the facts are often described in terms of\nexaggeration. We are not to suppose that the passing of an act of\nparliament, or the \"devising\" of an ordinal by Cranmer, made a change\nin religion which was instantly felt through all corners of the\nkingdom. Multitudes had very vague notions of what was going on, and\nthe only people who were thoroughly well informed, the courtiers, had\ntheir eyes fixed on church lands, not on theology. In some parts of\nthe country, as in Lancashire, the change was little felt, and the\nCatholic religion remains there to this day a common heirloom. But in\nthe mass of the people we quite miss that delicate spiritual sense,\nso keenly alive to the slightest variation from the faith, which\ngives such interest to the struggles of the church with the early\nheretics. When all has been said in their favor, it cannot be denied\nthat the English have always shown themselves somewhat supine and\nspiritually sluggish. It is only the \"right to tax themselves\" which\nappeals to their energies with force enough to stir up a rebellion.\nThe Scots took their religion into their own hands; but the English\nwere contented to be led like sheep by Cecil and Parker.\n\nThe fundamental profession of faith of the Church of England, the\nThirty-nine Articles, labors under this disadvantage, that it has\nnever secured to the Established Church any closer union or more\nuniform dogmatic tradition than has been secured to Protestants in\ngeneral by their common possession of the Bible. Very significant are\nthose words in the _King's Declaration_ prefixed to the articles, in\nwhich his majesty finds so much comfort from the fact that nobody\nrefuses to sign the articles, in spite of \"some differences which\nhave been ill raised;\" and that, when they differ, \"_men of all sorts\ntake the articles of the Church of England to be for them_.\" What\nis the value of a formula which has been found compatible with the\nprimacy both of Whitgift and of Sancroft? Only once did the spirit\nof the nation question the right of \"men of all sorts\" to \"take the\narticles to be for them;\" and that was when Dr. Newman took them to\ncontain the Catholic faith. But this was due to the national hatred\nof popery, not to the stringency of the articles. Their weak blast\nhas never blown either hot or cold. They look like the offspring of\na union between inconsiderate haste and the latitudinarian hankering\nafter conversions made by compromise. They limit their confidence\nlike the sagacious Bottom. \"Masters, I am to discourse wonders; but\nask me not what; for if I tell you, I am no true Athenian.\"\n\nThe Elizabethan pacificators were of that sort who turn a country\ninto a wilderness, and then boast that peace has been happily\nrestored. Their Established Church was not a religion, but a\nmachinery for enabling men to dispense with religion in their\ndaily lives; and every attempt to graft religious feeling upon its\nsapless stock has ended in discord. Having no efficient discipline,\nno central authority, no energetic corporate action, no audible\ndogmatic voice, and no intelligible symbols of faith, and receiving\nits hierarchy from the state with abject submissiveness, it has\nnever got so far as to attempt to fulfil any of the functions\nof the church. Its usual condition has been that of a bundle of\ndifferences held together by some fleeting economy or the presence\nof the state. Scarcely had it settled down into any thing like an\norganized polity, when the Puritan schism became formidably apparent;\nand by the accidental bias of political association, the Churchman\nand the Puritan became the champions respectively of prerogative\nand of liberty. The church rallied round the monarchy, because the\nfavor of the crown was the breath of its nostrils; and persecution\nmade the Puritans ripe for rebellion, and therefore ready to fight\nfor the cause of liberty in any shape. The men who began the Great\nRebellion were politicians, not religious enthusiasts; but they\ngained the day by enlisting on their side that religious enthusiasm\nwhich afterward declared that \"the Lord had no need\" of the Rump\nParliament. When the intolerable government of the saints had made\ninevitable the restoration of Charles, the Established Church came\nback with the crown almost as naturally as the court of chancery and\nthe privy council. Nothing could be more in keeping than that the\necclesiastical loyalty which had blossomed into the divine right of\nkings under the earlier Stuarts, should bear its fruit in passive\nobedience after the restoration. This much had been claimed by Henry\nVIII. in that edifying manual, _The Pious and Godly Institution\nof a Christian Man_; and it now became the touchstone of Anglican\northodoxy, almost to the exclusion of dogmatic considerations. It\nis true that Archbishop Laud had long before begun what he meant\nto be a theological reaction; but in his scheme the position of an\naltar or the use of a vestment counted for more than the gravest\ndoctrinal questions, and he did not scruple to act cordially with men\nwhose theological views differed very widely from his own. Whatever\nclaim the Established Church may seem to have made to doctrinal\ninfallibility or to magisterial decision, we think that it will be\nfound on closer inspection to resolve itself into this, that every\npreacher was allowed to propound his own crotchets as infallibly\ntrue, provided only that his fidelity to the great dogma of passive\nobedience was beyond suspicion. Yet the prominence of this one\nproposition, and the vehemence of the clergy in preaching it, gave\na certain aspect of unity to the church, and somewhat resembled the\nenergy with which divine truth should be taught. The establishment\nhas grown up into a great and conspicuous edifice, imposing from its\nmajestic appearance and the apparent solidity of its foundation,\nand endeared to many by the recollection of sufferings endured in a\ncause with which it seemed to be inseparably bound up. Her ministers\n\"agreed in essentials;\" that is to say, in the fundamental rules\nof morality and passive obedience. It was the very strength of the\nchurch's position which made the violence of James II. so disastrous\nto her influence. The clergy found themselves before the horns of\na fatal dilemma, when they were compelled to choose between their\nchurch and their king. The people, long used to hear that passive\nobedience was the first duty of a Christian, saw with a sceptical\nshock the defection of the clergy from their most sacred tenet. The\nnon-jurors set up a fresh schism, and the shattered establishment\ncould offer no effectual resistance to the phlegmatic William and his\nlatitudinarian primate.\n\nBy the revolution the Anglican was finally and for ever cut off from\nall appeal to the living authority of the church; and it is well\nworthy of note that when the high Anglicans of this century, after\nthe tractarian movement had set in, began to appeal to authority,\nthey could find no living authority whither to carry their appeal,\nand were forced to set up the dead authority of books and records.\nAt the close of the seventeenth century, there would seem to have\nbeen a good opportunity for anticipating by a hundred and fifty years\nthe tractarian revival; and perhaps we may regard the career of the\nnon-jurors as a proof that Sancroft and his brethren were utterly\nremoved from every breath of the Catholic spirit. Cut off at that\ntime from all appeal to authority, yet forced to lay down some ground\nof belief, it remained for the establishment to choose between reason\nand the witness of the Spirit, or the purer light manifesting itself\nto the separate conscience of the individual. This latter had been\nthe basis of independency, and of those still darker sects which\nsprang from independency during the commonwealth. It had appeared\nthat this guidance might be made to lead anywhere, except in any\ndirection that a sane man would choose, and therefore it remained to\nput reason on its trial. Thenceforth the appeal of the Anglican was\naddressed to the reason of his hearers, and the reasonable was the\nbasis of argument between parties. Different men believed different\nthings; but each admitted that his creed must stand or fall according\nas it should or should not approve itself to reason. That knowledge\nof God and of his will which could be discovered by unaided reason\nwas styled natural religion; and this was the whole of religion,\naccording to the deists. According to the orthodox, natural religion\nwas an outline, true as far as it went, the details of which were to\nbe filled in by revelation. It was an obvious consequence of this\nview, that such parts of Christianity as could not easily be foisted\nin upon natural religion, came to be rejected as popish corruptions;\nand thus the distinction between the orthodox and the deist became\nat last very shallow. Bishop Butler, a man of fervid piety and with\na natural bias toward asceticism, whose disposition made him an\nexception in many ways to the common tendency of the age in which he\nlived, complains that religion had in his day become too reasonable\nto have any connection with the heart and the affections. The least\ndeviation in any direction from the surrounding dead-level was looked\nupon with suspicion; and Butler's _Durham Charge_ caused him to be\naccused of \"squinting\" toward the superstition of popery. After his\ndeath, it was said by many that he had died a Catholic; and Secker\ncame forward with indignant zeal to defend his memory from the\n\"calumny.\"\n\nThe depressing results of this prevailing tone are well shown by\nits effect on the religious views of such men as Sydney Smith. A\ntouch of fanaticism has great claims upon our respect, when it is\nseen in contrast to the heathenism which regards a good education\nand gentlemanlike manners as the most necessary qualifications for\nthe spiritual guide. Those evangelicals, the \"patent Christians\" of\nSydney Smith, were the representatives inside the Church of England\nof the feelings and aspirations which animated the Methodists\noutside; and if the church had been the same in the days of Wesley\nthat it was in the days of Wilberforce, there would have been no\nseparation. We remarked that the close of the seventeenth century\nseems to have presented a good opportunity for anticipating the\ntractarian movement; but the times were not ripe for it, and\nthe attempt was not made. Wesley did attempt to anticipate the\nevangelical movement; but the times were again not ripe, and the\nattempt ended in extensive schism. The evangelicals were the true\nforerunners of the tractarians; and perhaps the Methodists had\nopened the way to both. And as the Church of England first drove out\nthe Methodists, but acquired by the process a certain capacity to\nendure Methodism, so, perhaps, she drove out the Tractarians, and\nacquired thereby a certain leaven which enables her now to endure\nwith comparative equanimity the presence in her bosom of men who\nprofess Catholic doctrine. The church had no fixed spirit; she was\nput in motion by the clamors of unstable popular opinion; and popular\nopinion is liable to be modified by the views with which it is\nbrought into contact, even when it attacks them most fiercely. Yet\nwe think we see signs that a time is coming when the comprehensive\nshelter of the establishment will no longer be open to all who\nchoose to stand under it.\n\nDuring this century three great movements have at different times\nmade inroads upon the dead-level bequeathed by a former age. The\nevangelical movement has had its day, and its force is now spent; it\nno longer does active work, but only serves as a protest and drag.\nThe tractarian movement has passed into a second phase; but it is\nstill so far vigorous that it makes progress; that is, it increases\ncontinually the number of exoteric members who hang upon its skirts,\nwhile the esoteric members become more and more thorough-going in\ntheir assertion of Catholic doctrine and practice. The third and last\nmovement is the critical, which is an attempt imported from Germany,\nand in England supported with great ingenuity and learning, to set\nup a criterion of religious truth and error apart from the reception\nof the Catholic scheme. For a long time there was room enough for\nall these parties to exist together; and if they quarrelled, it\nwas rather because they had a taste for quarrelling than because\nthey were brought into collision. But now there is no longer room\nfor them, and collision is imminent. We may expect soon to see the\nbattle fought out between them; nor would it have been delayed so\nlong had there been any ground solid enough for pitting one against\nanother. The English ecclesiastical law is so vague that men hardly\ndare to invoke it, even when they hope to find it on their side; for\nit is impossible to predict its course with certainty, when once it\nis set moving. But recent decisions have tended more and more to\nbring out this much, that an exact compliance with the present law,\nso far as it can be fixed, would be equally distasteful both to the\nevangelicals and to the tractarians. It is, in fact, a compromise\nconstructed with unusual clumsiness, which is now for the first\ntime being exposed to a searching examination; and it is likely\nto meet with the just fate of compromises, by being found equally\nhateful to both of the parties whom it was meant to reconcile. The\ncritical school, who greatly outweigh the two others in learning\nand ability, are more evidently outside the letter of the present\nlaw, though its machinery is too clumsy to be used against them with\nany great effect. But the matter will not long be left in the hands\nof the present law; and it is hard to foretell the legislation of\nthe future. Nobody, we think, can now doubt that a few years will\nsee some great change, either of secularization, or at least of\nredistribution, in the ecclesiastical revenues. A large section of\nthe tractarian party now cries out for disestablishment, as the only\nway open to them by which they may keep the Catholic faith.\n\nWhen the catastrophe to which we are looking forward does come, no\ndoubt there will be some splitting up of parties. Some, we hope\nmany, of the tractarians will be received into the Catholic Church;\nand then it will be seen whether the remainder will be able to set\nup a free church, according to their darling scheme. Many of the\nevangelicals will doubtless join the various dissenting bodies; and\nsome, perhaps, will coalesce with the liberals, (whom we called the\ncritical school,) and it is possible that these latter may be left\nfor a little while in possession of the whole of the temporalities\nof the church. This, however, we do not think likely; it is probable\nthat disestablishment will be itself the occasion of a general\ndissolution. But the liberals have this great advantage on their\nside, that they are under no temptation whatever to split up. The\nagreement which holds them together is an agreement to differ; and\ntheir bond of union is a protest against all persons who consider\ndogmatic opinions of any kind to be a sufficient ground for breaking\ncommunion. Upon this understanding they are ready to shake hands with\nthe whole world. And the opinions which are held by the esoteric\nmembers of the party (for some of them have opinions) are always\nembraced subject to the admission that they may possibly be false.\nThey find truth everywhere, and close resemblances between things\nwhich are totally different. A bigot, according to the old joke, is\na person who says that he is in the right, and that every body who\ndiffers from him is in the wrong; but a liberal is afraid to say that\nhe is in the right, lest he should be obliged to say that somebody\nelse is not. They avoid mistakes by saying as little as possible,\nand by using the vaguest terms they can find; and, above all, by\ncheerfully admitting that there is always a great deal to be said on\nboth sides. As certain of their own poets have said,\n\n        \"Methinks I see them\n    Through everlasting limbos of void time\n    Twirling and twiddling ineffectively,\n    And indeterminately swaying for ever.\"\n\nBut it is only fair to say that here they are seen in their weakness,\nnot in their strength. This vague and undecided habit of mind is the\nresult of the circumstances in which they had their beginning. The\nspectacle of a great number of sects, each in practice arrogating\nto itself infallibility while they teach incompatible doctrines,\nproduces different effects upon different minds. Its natural effect\nupon the shallow, who are just deep enough to find out that other\nsects exist beside the one in which they were brought up, is to breed\nscepticism. They know that two contradictory propositions cannot\nboth be true, and they think that the one is as well supported by\nevidence as the other; and out of these premises, by the help of bad\nlogic, they draw the conclusion that both must be false. But sounder\nintellects set about investigating more closely the criterion of\ntruth and falsehood; and to such we owe the critical theory, which is\nnot only ingenious, but even true so far as it goes. Something of the\nindecision of men who have seen so much of error that they now hardly\nbelieve in the existence of truth, clings to these critics; and this\nmakes their proceeding seem to be sceptical when it is not really\nso. Their theory may be briefly summed up as follows: \"Interpret the\nScripture,\" says one,[167] \"like any other book.\" This in his mouth\nwas a brief way of bidding us measure religious truth by the same\ntests, while we seek it by the same methods, as other truth. It is\nwell known that the labor of successive generations of scholars,\nfollowing the same main rules of criticism, has made a great\napproach to uniformity in the interpretation of profane authors; and\nnobody doubts that the common consent of the critics, if it could\nbe obtained, would be the best possible evidence to the unlearned\nof the true meaning of an obscure passage. It is inferred that the\nsame critical methods may be applied to the Bible, and that the same\napproach to uniformity of interpretation may thus be secured.\n\nThis is a plausible theory; and it is sound so far as it goes. But\nit completely ignores the Catholic theory of the interpretation of\nScripture. Its authors evidently suppose, for example, that if a\ntext quoted by the Council of Trent in support of a doctrine could\nbe critically proved irrelevant to the purpose, then the doctrine\nwould be seriously shaken in the minds of Catholics. But this opinion\nrests on a profound misapprehension of the Catholic view. We accept\nthe doctrine on the authority of the council, as the voice of the\nchurch, without criticising the source from which the words are\ndrawn; and although the church in her decisions is guided by her\nunalterable tradition, yet it is a possible case that she might\nbe quite assured of the fact of the tradition, and yet (to speak\nreverently) erroneously quote a document in evidence. A Catholic\nwould be very cautious about attributing critical errors of this\nkind to a general council; but no theologian will deny that such\na thing might happen. The function of the church in interpreting\nScripture is by no means limited to ascertaining what the words\nwritten represented to the mind of the writer; the question is\nmuch wider than this, including all that was intended by God to be\nconveyed or suggested by the written words to the church at large.\nIt does not follow that, because a given meaning is the only sense\nwhich the words could appropriately bear at the time when they were\nwritten, therefore no other additional sense was intended to be\nconveyed at some future time. In proportion as we exalt the degree\nin which a passage or a book is supposed to be inspired, so much the\nmore probable does it become that its words will bear more than one\nmeaning. In the higher sense of the word inspiration, the human agent\nbecomes a mere instrument to convey a message, which he himself may\npossibly not understand at all. The meaning then lies wholly in the\nmind of God; and it is to be sought out by the divinely appointed\ninterpreter. Hence is apparent the reasonableness, when they are\ntaken together, of the two elements which make up the Catholic theory\nof Scripture--the inspiration of the written word, and the commission\nof the church to interpret. Both these things are ignored or denied\nby that school of criticism about which we have been speaking. Their\nview is quite incompatible with the Catholic view of inspiration, and\nthey at the same time naturally deny the right of interpretation to\nthe church, in order to give it to the scholar. And they therefore\nlimit the function of interpretation to that which the scholar can\nreasonably attempt--the discovery of the meaning appropriate to the\ncircumstances under which the words were uttered.\n\nThe theory, as it stands by itself, is a plausible hypothesis,\nmuch better able to bear examination than any other theory\nwhich Protestants have ever put forward. We do not think that it\nwill fulfil the hopes of its friends, by securing the wished for\nuniformity of interpretation. And we cannot help thinking that its\nadherents ought to be on their guard against their peculiar faculty\nof finding out likenesses in dissimilar things, lest they should\ndeceive themselves by fancying that they have secured uniformity when\nthey have not. At present, they are rather apt to mistake the progeny\nof their neighbors for their own--\n\n                  ... \"simillima proles\n    Indiscreta suis gratusque parentibus error.\"\n\nA few years ago, one of them placed on record his pious delight at\nthe closeness with which Dr. Pusey's theological system resembled\nthat of Mr. Jowett. He seemed to think that we are all of us getting\nyear by year into closer agreement, and that the golden mean toward\nwhich all are gravitating is that hazy creed which looms vaguely upon\nthe inner vision of Dean Stanley.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[165] Now Bishop of Exeter. He was the author of an ingenious but\nwhimsical essay, styled, \"The Education of the World,\" in _Essays\nand Reviews_, where he parcelled out the elements of our present\ncivilization among different nations of antiquity. He almost seems\nto have thought that Turner owed his knowledge of painting, in some\nvague way, to Zeuxis and Parrhasius.\n\n[166] To give Calvin his due, he was only for chopping off the head\nof Servetus. He called eagerly for his blood; but he was willing to\ntemper justice with so much mercy as lies in substituting the axe for\nthe fagot.\n\n[167] Professor Jowett, _Essays and Reviews_, ninth ed. p. 377. This\nessay contains several jokes, which to us seem rather out of place.\n\"Even the Greek Plato,\" says the professor, (p. 390,) \"would have\n'coldly furnished forth' the words of 'eternal life.'\" The reader\nwill remember the words of Shakespeare,\n\n              \"The funeral baked meats\n    Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables,\"\n\nmeaning (as is shown by the preceding words, _Thrift, thrift,\nHoratio!_) that the marriage had followed so close upon the funeral\nthat the pasties which had been hot at the one came up cold at the\nother. The new turn given by Mr. Jowett to his original has, we\nadmit, a very humorous effect; but we cannot help thinking that he\nhas been unseasonably witty.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SAGACIOUS WIG.\n\n\nI.\n\nA wig may be said to have two lives--the one with its own head, the\nother with its adopted head, or rather the head which adopts it; it\nhas, therefore, a double chance for wisdom, and might be expected to\nprofit accordingly. Generally speaking, this is the case, and wig and\nwisdom are almost synonymous.\n\nSuch wonderful tales had been told in a certain shop, by wigs\nthat came back to be _fixed a little_, of the glory of their new\nabodes--wigs shorn from the very dregs of the people--from heads\nthat had never been combed or petted or cared for--from heads\nhouseless and hatless, that had been rained on and hailed on, and\nnow in their second life dwelt in splendor unmitigated--that their\ndiscourses fairly curled up tighter every wig in the place. The shop\nhad proved but a stepping-stone to blissful companionship with wits\nand statesmen; they reposed on the brows of sages and philosophers,\nshared the applauses of the multitude with popular orators, listened\nto the eloquence born of champagne and gaslight, and won the\nsmiles and flirted with sweet ladies on Turkish divans and velvet\n_fauteuils_; all this and more, the wigs who came back had to relate.\nNo wonder hopes were raised in each that went forth--hopes often\ndelusive.\n\n\nII.\n\nIf the few hairs which made a kind of rim round the head of Martin\nTryterlittle had chosen to speak when he first clapped a wig on his\nbald crown, (bald though not yet old,) they could have told a long\nstory, or rather a succession of many stories, of hope, expectation,\nand disappointment in the three great walks of life--money-making,\nlove-making, and fame-making. Striving, ever striving, he hardly\npaused to look back at the profitless path he had trodden. The\nmeeting accidentally with an old school-chum in fine broadcloth,\nor the ultra urgency of his landlady or some other disagreeable\ncreditor, gave him occasionally more vivid views of things, and at\nsuch times he indulged in indignant and certainly very disrespectful\nlanguage toward mankind in general and some individuals in\nparticular; but generally his mood was patient endurance.\n\nSuccess in life was an enigma. There was Job Lovemee, who began\nhis career by ridiculously marrying a girl as poor as himself, and\nblessed since with six children, was getting as rich as a nabob;\n\"while I,\" said Martin, \"with no such drawbacks, am as poor as a\nchurch mouse.\"\n\nIt was a pleasant bright spring morning when Martin Tryterlittle\nsuddenly resolved to turn over a new leaf in his book of life and\nmend its story.\n\n\"No wonder I cannot succeed,\" said he; \"look at me!\" So, as no one\nwas by, he looked at himself, bit at a time, in the little cracked\nmirror which adorned his attic lodging-room. As the fortunes of\nMartin had been gradually sinking in the scale of social existence,\nhe had physically been rising; that is, from occupying the first\nfloor handsomely furnished, as the advertisement set forth, he had\nascended to the attic, so nearly unfurnished that a bed, a table, a\nchair, and a broken mirror comprised its whole inventory.\n\n\"Look at me!\" said Martin to himself, \"threadbare and bald! No\nwonder I find nothing to do and no one to woo, and stay lagging\nbehind in this march of mankind! I'll buy a wig to-day if I have to\nsell something to pay for it; for every body can see my head, but\nnobody--well, I'll button up my coat!\"\n\nIt was no one's business how it was accomplished, as Martin truly\nsaid, but it _was_ done; the wig was bought and paid for, and rested\nnow on his table in happy anticipation of the triumphs of the ensuing\nday. \"No one will know me,\" said he. \"I hardly know myself! O my wig!\nhow happy we shall be; to thee shall I owe friends and fortune!\"\n\nIt may startle some old-fashioned people to hear me assert that there\nwas a responsive chord in the wig which answered to all this; but\nthose familiar with modern metaphysical speculations will easily\ncredit it. The wig, be it remembered, was once part and parcel of a\nsentient being; nor have we any reason to suppose that baking and\nboiling, in the process of wig-making, could in any way touch the\nspark immortal and invisible which once pervaded it. It is true\nthat counter arguments might be advanced, and so there is no end to\ncontroversy; but there is a shorter way--and having demonstrated how\nthe thing _might_ have been, we are satisfied to believe that so it\n_was_. Martin felt that his wig understood him. He was no longer\nalone in the world; companionship is something even with a wig, and\nhe realized it as he laid his purchase carefully on the table and\nbetook himself to his bed.\n\nIt was a long night; but day dawned at last, and, in the mean\ntime, the whole future had been mapped out in the mind of Martin\nTryterlittle. He rose early, made a careful toilette of such\nmaterials as were to be had, and sallied forth in thoughtful mood.\n\n\"Fame, wealth, love\"--he conned them over in the order of valuation.\n\"Fame (said he) I must first secure, and then I can command my own\nprice in every thing else. Wealth will follow; and as for love, I\nneed not go after that. Lord! there is no end to the love that comes\ntumbling in upon fame and money!\"\n\n_C'est le premier pas qui coute_--the problem was, how to be famous.\nThere was a military and a civil career. There was invention in all\nthe arts subservient to human needs. Could any wheels anywhere be\nmade to go faster or smoother or with less smashing up? Well, as\nfar as he saw, every thing was as good as it could be. Literature?\nAh! that is a long track; besides, publishers are \"lions in the\nway\"--they cannot or will not always appreciate merit; fame seldom\ncomes to the scribe till after he is beyond the reach of earthly pain\nor blame. \"No,\" said Martin, \"I must be famous living; what matters\nit after one is dead?\"\n\n\"What is all this jabber about?\" thought the wig; \"surely my master\nhas so many ways before him he cannot tell which to choose; but so\njauntily I sit on his brow, he cannot fail of success whichever he\ntakes.\"\n\nThis cogitating mood brought them step by step to a corner--one of\nthose comers peculiar to great cities; where, while down one wide\navenue the mighty human tide goes rushing and roaring, the narrow\nside street, like a little sluggish stream with scarce a perceptible\nripple, joins it and empties its trifle into it. At this moment the\nusual tide in the great thoroughfare was swollen to a torrent; in\nplain words, at the corner Martin encountered a mighty mob. Hark!\nwhat a rabble shout! pell-mell--something had happened. Somebody had\nsinned, and very vindictive seemed the sufferers. Martin was caught\nin the current and twirled into their midst. Then was heard, \"Oh! the\nman had a wig on!\"--\"wig!\" \"man!\" \"man!\" \"wig!\" It went from mouth to\nmouth. Well, here was a man with a wig on in their midst; this must\nbe he. The logic was conclusive; so Martin was seized and hurried\nalong.\n\n\"What have I done?\" cried he.\n\n\"Oh! yes, you know what you've done; and we know what you've done,\"\nshouted a dozen tongues. So, pinioned close, he was borne onward to\nthe halls of justice, or injustice, as the case might be.\n\n\"Well, well!\" thought the wig; \"I little expected to get in such a\nfix with my gentleman, or I should have clinched his bald pate till\nhe would have been glad to leave me for some other customer. It is\ndisgraceful!\"\n\n\"It's villainous! it's outrageous!\" roared Martin.\n\n\"Shut up!\" said a looker-on.\n\nNow came a medley of questions and cross-questions, and ejaculations,\nand assertions, and confirmations, and contradictions, and, in short,\nthe usual path of law and order was trodden over, till they settled\ndown to unanimity on one point: the evil deed, whatever it was, (and\nvery few seemed to know exactly what it was,) had been done by a\nman in a wig; but then it was a yellow-white, frowsy, sunburnt sort\nof a wig. Who could ever suspect that mass of dark, glossy curls of\nconcealing a rogue? No one. So Martin was dismissed with the galling\nconsciousness that for the great wrong done him there was no redress.\nA great wrong, too, he felt it; for what was he henceforth? Why, the\nvery boys in the street would point to him as \"the one wot was took\nup.\" He shrank from being seen; he had been too famous already.\n\nHe turned his steps homeward to collect his thoughts and rearrange\nhis dress.\n\n\"This comes of a wig,\" said he; \"a wig is deception, deception is\nrascality. A man guilty of one deception must not take it in dudgeon\nthat he is suspected of another. I scorn fame! I go for money; and\nmoney shall make me famous. I began at the wrong end.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" (chimed in the wig,) \"we'll be rich and loved; and the rest is\nall bosh.\"\n\nIt took Martin Tryterlittle a long time to put himself again in\npresentable order; one more such adventure, and he would be obliged\nto cease intercourse with that portion of creation who walk in\nsunlight, and join the human owls who, from choice or necessity, fly\nonly by night. Their ways are not so widely different as a casual\nobserver might suppose. Money is dear to both, and both are fond of\ntaking short roads to it. Only in one thing they differ vastly--the\nday-worker sighs and seeks for notoriety, and often fails to obtain\nit; the night-prowlers have it thrust upon them, though they shun it.\nMartin had shared their hapless luck, and his ideas were changed;\nhenceforth he scorned fame in all its phases, and exalted that other\nidol--money.\n\n\nIII.\n\nA second time day-dawn called up Martin and his wig for new projects.\nIt was a glorious morning. There was something exhilarating in\nthat yellow flood of light which promised success. It was so\ncosmopolitan--that sunlight! It gave to all things such a gloss of\ndelicate beauty. First, it just touched with gold the spires, and\ntallest trees and chimney-tops; then it slid down the house-side\nto peep in my lady's chamber; then it poured a glow all over the\npavement, and made merry and warm all the little things, animate and\ninanimate, which but for that would have been dark and cold. Into\nthis atmosphere of joyousness walked forth now Martin Tryterlittle to\nfind something to do, some fellow-creature with a want unfilled.\n\nIt is surprising that any one ever begins to do any thing in this\nworld, where every avenue to success is crowded, every necessity\nsupplied, and every evil surrounded by a belt of antidotes; it takes\nimmense penetration to discover where there is left any thing to be\ndone.\n\n\"I must find a _want_,\" said he. And he turned to that dragon ever\nwatchful of human interests--a newspaper. The _wanted_ there were\nmany--workers for metals, accountants for wealth, delvers for the\nriches of earth; but all these anticipated a certain previous\ntraining. _Wanted, a teacher._ \"That's it,\" said Martin. \"I think\nI am fitted for that.\" So he moved on to the field of action--the\ninstitute.\n\nThe building was easily found--a large brick pile surrounded by\ngrass, or rather, what would have been grass had juvenile footsteps\npermitted. To point the searcher for knowledge to the proper\nentrance, its name was displayed there in conspicuous letters.\n\nThe master was not so accessible; and he sat a long time in the\nparlor with several other visitors, and listened to the tinkling of\nsundry little bells, and saw passing in the distance sundry little\nprocessions armed with books and slates, until they were all properly\nimpressed with an idea of the extent of the establishment and the\nawful responsibility of conducting it. At length, slowly and with\ndignity, entered Mr. Pushem.\n\n\"A teacher, you want?\" modestly inquired Martin.\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" was the laconic reply; and a little silence ensued.\n\n\"For what, sir?\" again modestly asked Martin.\n\n\"Well, sir, for several things; in fact, sir, for most any thing.\"\n\nSo, as Martin announced himself _au fait_ on all subjects, and the\nsalary, without decided specification, was declared by the dignified\nprincipal to be unquestionably liberal, and the duties could not well\nbe defined until he entered upon them; and as the only positive point\nwas that he was to be niggard never in either time or labor, for the\nreason that time and labor were dust in the balance compared with\nthe progress of immortal minds, the applicant was regularly enlisted\nunder the banner of the INSTITUTE. He was to pay his board and\nlodging of course, said Mr. Pushem; and, of course, Martin did not\nexpect to board and lodge without pay, though he had some remembrance\nof having done so occasionally; and so the matter was settled, and he\nreturned home.\n\nIt took him small time to pack his bundle. His trunk had been\ndetained a long time ago by a savage old dame for rent; and, knowing\nthat the same gulf yawned ever for all succeeding trunks, he had\nnever replaced it. So, packing his little bundle, I say, and leaving\na kind message for his landlady with a fellow-lodger, to the purport\nthat he would come back and pay her as soon as he could, he vanished\nfrom his old abode as effectually as if he had gone to another\nplanet.\n\nLoving parents tell us there is nothing so delightful as watching\nthe daily progress of children in learning the alphabet of life.\nNot that villainous regiment called A B C, which merits execration\nas the first herald of toil and sorrow to the infantile heart, but\nthat beautiful alphabet of rosy hues and rainbow colors, stamped on\nleaf, and flower, and fruit, and wave, and hill-side, and which, in\nconning over, the little eye learns to see, and the ear to hear; and\nthe touch refines itself, and fragrance grows to be an idea; and\nthe little gourmand makes its first essay in luxurious living on\npeaches and berries. Every little incident here is delightful. But\nnot so pleasant is it to note the later wanderings of human beings in\nquest of that vague thing--_a living_. The traveller on the highway\nof life has grown weary now, and stumbles and plunges ankle-deep in\nall things disagreeable. He has heard the bird of promise sing so\nfalsely, he knows how little the song is worth--he has grown sad\nwhile growing wise; and thus plodded on Martin Tryterlittle.\n\nSome months had passed now since the roof of the institute first\nsheltered him; and the bread and bones and watery tea of the\ninstitute first nourished him; and the boys harassed him, and made\nfun of him; and twigged his wig, and put nettles in his bed in more\nthan a metaphorical sense. His master had kept him like a toad under\na harrow, (to use an inelegant but expressive phrase,) always doing,\nnever done; the salary was yet unsettled, and the duties undefined,\nwhen one night the wig claimed a hearing.\n\n\"I am growing shabby,\" said the wig, \"and you are no richer.\"\n\nNot that these words were uttered in an audible tone, but the thought\npassed to Martin and was comprehended.\n\n\"You are growing shabby,\" sighed Martin, ruthfully gazing, \"and I am\nno richer.\"\n\n\"O master mine!\" quoth the wig, \"do you see how you are walking on?\nYou are growing poorer, not richer! What is to you all the glory of\nthis concern, when you own not even a nail in the wall? You are just\nthe stone they step on who mount up over you. What do you get for it?\nO master mine! you are an ass to stay!\"\n\nMartin was not inaccessible to reason; he was impressed daily more\nand more with the good sense of his old friend Horace.\n\n    \"Et genus et virtus, nisi cum re, vilior alg\u00e2 est.\"[168]\n\nHis rusty garments and diminished bundle told him that the wig\nspoke truth, and he prepared, not for a hegira, but for an official\nresignation. It took no long time for this, and his little hard bed\nin its windy corner was left empty the very next night. The boys\nfelt that a great source of amusement had departed, and sincerely\nregretted his loss; and Mr. Pushem, after due astonishment at such\nblindness to advantages, disbursed to him the smallest possible sum\nas balance due, and advertised for another teacher.\n\nO gold, gold! _Slave of the dark and dirty mine!_ what need to record\nhow often thou didst beckon on luckless Martin Tryterlittle, only\nto flit from him further than ever? What matters how he slept in\nback offices and front basements, dreaming of mines somewhere at\nthe antipodes, of which he was to have such a glittering slice--or\nof lovely landscapes away off in the vast wilderness of which he\nwould one day be landed proprietor?--that is, as soon as he could\npersuade certain people into certain projects which seemed in theory\nmighty attractive, but proved in practice to have no attractions\nwhatever--suffice to say that at last, quite desponding, he invested\nmost part of his few remaining coin in the prepayment of an attic,\nand seated himself sadly at its window.\n\n\"I shall never be rich,\" quoth he; \"fame and fortune!--well, let them\ngo.\" His heart threw a sigh to the other one of the trio, and the wig\ntook it up. \"I was born for love,\" said the wig; \"the first sweet\nwords I remember came from the rosy lips of our pretty shop-girl,\n_What a love of a wig!_ I have never yet had a fair chance in life.\nWhat care those bankers and old money-scrapers for good looks? They\nare all gray and bald and wrinkled before their time. Put me on my\nown field, master, and SEE what _I_ can do!\"\n\nPerhaps this prompted Martin to lean further out of his window, and\nthus give his wig the full benefit of sunlight and the chance of\nmaking acquaintances; at least he did so; and doing so, he glanced\nacross the street to a window nearly as high as his own, and saw\nthere--what? Why, two bright eyes looking intently at him! He drew\nback; for Martin was diffident with the fair sex, and being, besides,\ninnately a gentleman, it did not occur to him to embarrass the\ndamsel with a rude stare. So he retreated; and the bright eyes also\nretreated and what was worse than all, a little, plump, white hand\ncame out and closed the shutters.\n\nNothing more was seen all day; but he had ample occupation in\nconjecturing who it could be. No toil-worn seamstress ever had such\na laughing glance and such a plump little hand; no, it was evidently\na maiden quite above care for the morrow. Most anxiously he awaited\nthe following morning, when about the same hour--that is, early\nday--could he believe his senses?--again the shutter was opened,\nand the bright eyes glanced up at him as if they too remembered.\nThe little fairy was evidently a household fairy engaged in some\nfairy-like duties about the chamber, and ever and anon, as these\nbrought her near the window, she glanced up at Martin.\n\nThat any loving and lovable woman should bestow a thought on _him_\nwas a leaf of paradise painted in dreams sometimes on the far-off\ndays to come, when he should be rich and renowned; but that such\nbright, happy eyes should seek and rest on poor Martin Tryterlittle\nwas hardly credible; as soon would he have expected Luna to step down\nfrom her orbit, peep into his attic, and say, \"Good evening to you,\nMartin;\" but so it was.\n\n\"It is _my_ doing,\" said the wig; \"all mine!\"\n\nOne day was the story of the next, and the next, and several more\nbeyond. It is surprising how much may be learned of the inhabitants\nof a house from its exterior. As the beatific vision lasted but a\nshort time each morning, a long day and night was left him to study\nits surroundings, and in a brief space of time he read the whole\nplain as a book. It was a handsome mansion, and a private one.\nThere was a sensible housekeeping mistress there; for the railings\nwere black and the knocker bright, and the steps were clean and the\nhousemaids tidy; even the pavements were a pattern to the neighbors.\nThere were order and industry throughout the establishment,\nevidently. All this and more besides he deciphered by processes whose\nintricate premises laughed to scorn quadratic equations, and yet he\nwas never tired.\n\nMartin had done, here and there and everywhere in his lifetime,\na deal more head-work than he had ever been paid for, rather by\ncompulsion; but now he labored _con amore_ on the loveliest subject\nlife affords; and so far from wearying him, his wits grew brighter,\nhis ideas received a new impetus, and, strange to say, the beneficial\ninfluence extended to his purse.\n\n\"I must have some honest occupation now,\" cried he; \"it will never do\nto introduce myself as lounger in an attic window!\" Yes! he really\ndreamed of an introduction.\n\n\"Let me see,\" (and he picked up his old dragon friend the newspaper;)\n\"_wants, wants_--small salary, etc.; well, I will try.\" So he\nspeedily bargained himself away to--no matter what, so it was honest,\nand went to work with a good-will.\n\nIt was pleasant, too, (strange he had never thought of it before;) it\nwas pleasant to have a defined place among his fellow-mortals, and\nto feel that he could not now, as heretofore, be blown away on some\nwindy day, and no one miss him.\n\nGreat changes are not wrought in a day. It took him some time to\nstraighten out his line of existence and untie all the knots he had\nalways been tying in it; to settle up scores with the past, and open\naccounts with the future--but it was all accomplished; and see now\nthe life of Martin Tryterlittle.\n\nHe rose betimes, drank an elixir from those bright eyes perfectly\nintoxicating, and speeded to business. At eventide--where think you\nhe spent his evenings? Why, in the back-parlor of that same handsome\nmansion, with little household fairy at his side, and papa smiling\napproval. He was no longer threadbare and shabby, and the only bit\nof deception about him--his wig--had been long ago confessed and\nforgiven.\n\n\"I'm a deal better than any hair that ever grew on any man's head,\"\nsaid the wig; \"for if you live to be a hundred years old, I shall\nnever be bald or gray.\"\n\n\"You will never be bald or gray,\" said Martin.\n\n\"It will never be bald or gray,\" laughed the little fairy.\n\nOn a certain evening about a year after this, Martin and his wig sat\ndown for the last time to their dual converse; the next day a little\nlady was to be admitted, and the partnership would be a trio. Martin\nreclined on a sofa in his own domicil this night, and looked on a\nsoft, bright carpet. His purse had filled up; nor was he unknown to\nfame--at least to a holy fame born of benevolence, which in after\nyears lighted up many a desolated heart and hearth, and carved his\nname on structures where the homeless were sheltered and the hungry\nfed.\n\n\"Master mine,\" said the wig, \"we mistook our track. Human life was\nnot bestowed for the hoarding up of money--or men would have been all\nborn with pockets; nor yet for a chase after fame. There are innate,\nloftier, and purer aspirations to be satisfied--the living soul\ncraves something to love, and craves to be loved; and like sunshine\nto earth, that brings forth golden grain and sweet flowers, so pure\nlove, the household sunshine, calls out wealth of thought and energy\nof action; and so comes fame, and so comes money!\"\n\n\"Just so,\" said Martin; \"you talk like a book!\"\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[168] Hor. Bk. ii. Sat. 5. Both birth and virtue, without money, are\nmore worthless than seaweed.\n\n\n\n\nTHE POPE AND THE COUNCIL, BY JANUS.\n\nII.\n\n\nAs the reader will have seen in our previous article, it became\nnecessary to interrogate history at some length in order to elucidate\nand substantiate our arguments on the two points we have already set\nforth, namely, the real purpose of _Janus_, and the orthodoxy which\nthe authors of this work profess. We have thus prepared the way for\nour examination of the historical and critical parts of _Janus_, for\nwhich he has found so many ardent admirers who would assign him a\n\"position in the very front rank of science.\"\n\n_Janus_ is principally hailed as a work of history, and as such,\nmakes by no means ordinary or modest pretensions. That promiscuous\narray of matter presented to the reader in the third chapter,\nsubdivided into thirty-three paragraphs with those numerous\nreferences to \"_original authorities_,\" has dazzled so many eyes\nand overpowered so many minds, that they could not \"help feeling\nconvinced of its veracity.\" He has been held up as a \"thorough\nCatholic\" and a \"learned canonist,\" and whether or not by any\nlegitimate and scientific criterion _Janus_ merits these encomiums,\nthe reader can infer from the unexceptionable authorities we have\nadvanced.\n\nWe now ask the simple question, Has _Janus_ shown himself to be \"a\nfaithful and discriminating historian\"? Having already appealed to\nthe verdict of history on points of the very first importance, we may\nconfine ourselves exclusively to the historical merits of _Janus's_\nwork. It cannot be expected that, within the space allowed to such\nan examination, we can touch upon every point; yet we trust to be\nable to make such selections as will be sufficient to clear up the\nmost important historical questions upon which _Janus_ himself lays\nmost stress. The following extract gives the key to the historical\nedifice of _Janus_:\n\n    \"In this book the first attempt has been made to give a history\n    of the hypothesis of papal infallibility, from its first\n    beginnings to the end of the sixteenth century, when it appears\n    in its complete form.\" (P. 24.)\n\nTo take away all historical basis from \"ultramontanism,\" the authors\ngo over the whole field of ecclesiastical history, and particularly\nthe lives, both private and public, of the popes, together with their\nacts of administration, whether referring to the religious or civil\ngovernment; in short, any thing and every thing is gathered \"to\nbring forward a very dark side of the history of the papacy.\" The\nauthors pledge themselves to oppose what they term the \"ultramontane\nscheme,\" to which they will never submit, and hence their appeal\nto history, which should show that, since the ninth century, the\nconstitution of the church has undergone a transformation neither\nsound nor natural, because in contradiction with that of the \"ancient\nchurch.\" But the question which naturally suggests itself is, Who\nis responsible for this movement in the church, \"preparing, like\nan advancing flood-tide, to take possession of its whole organic\nlife\"? A \"powerful party which, in ignorance of past history or by\ndeliberately falsifying it,\" is now about to complete its system and\nsurround itself with an \"impregnable bulwark,\" by the doctrine of\ninfallibility. To ward off so fatal a catastrophe, _Janus_ enters\nthis protest, based on history.\n\n    \"Only when a universal conflagration of libraries had destroyed\n    all historical documents, when easterns and westerns knew no\n    more of their own early history than the Maories in New Zealand\n    know of theirs now, and when, by a miracle, great nations\n    had abjured their whole intellectual character and habits of\n    thought, then, and not till then, would such a submission be\n    possible.\" (P. 26.)\n\nWe have thus fairly stated the whole issue. True enough, the\nultramontanes were not wise when they did not give over to the flames\nall libraries, with the exception of the Isidorian decretals, as the\nMohammedans are known to have done with the library of Alexandria.\nYet we are happy to say that such an expedient measure has not been\nresorted to, being thereby enabled to trace the truth or falsehood of\nthis \"mighty programme\" of ultramontanism which _Janus_ is pleased to\nhonor with the name of \"Papalism.\"\n\nWe can easily dispense with the alleged historical misconceptions of\nthe middle ages, and draw upon the very same historical documents\nwith which _Janus_ so confidently proclaims his victory. Attention\nhas already been directed to the peculiar mode of warfare pursued by\n_Janus_, namely, to its purely negative and destructive character.\nThe third chapter bears the title of \"Papal Infallibility,\" (pp.\n31-346,) and hence we are led to expect a clear, authentic, and fair\nexposition of the doctrine in question, and then all other arguments\nwhich, either from scripture and patristic authority or from history,\ncould be brought to bear against such a doctrine. No reasonable man,\nmuch less a theologian, could object to such a mode of proceeding.\nThe authors of _Janus_, wishing to cede to none in their loyal\ndevotion to Catholic truth, could make ample use of that liberty of\nscientific discussion and historical investigation for or against the\nquestion of infallibility, and no charge of \"radical aversion,\" as\nthey seemed to apprehend, could be brought against their work.\n\nSince _Janus_ openly avows his purpose of disproving the doctrine of\ninfallibility, why does he not give such an explanation of it as is\ntaught by its most able and acknowledged defenders? What right has\nhe to produce a version of it to suit his own fancy? Why bring up\narguments militating, indeed, against his _own_ theory, but in nowise\nconclusive against the doctrine as laid down by its own exponents?\nThat it may not appear as if we made unfounded charges against\n_Janus_, we will subjoin his own definition and development of the\ndoctrine he sees fit to attack:\n\n    \"When we speak of the church, we mean the pope, says the Jesuit\n    Gretser. Taken by itself as the community of believers, clergy\n    and bishops, the church, according to Cardinal Cajetan, is the\n    slave of the pope.\" (P. 31.)\n\nApparently, our authors would make this the ultramontanist tenet:\nhenceforward the \"_l'\u00e9glise c'est moi_\" would be the genuine\nexpression of papal infallibility. We know of no theologian who\nsustains any such thesis as the above, and we had expected a\n_reference_ to the authorities quoted; but none is given, and we\nlittle heed the utterances attributed to them. Nothing, indeed, is\neasier than to place a question in a false point of view, either\nby exaggeration or misrepresentation, in order to make it appear\nludicrous and absurd.\n\n    \"It is a fundamental principle of the ultramontane view that,\n    when we speak of the church, its rights and its action, we\n    always mean the pope, and the pope only.\" (P. 31.)\n\nThere is no treatise on the church in which any such definition is\nto be found, or any author who declares the pope alone to be the\nchurch, in any possible sense or conception. _Janus_ delights to cite\nBellarmine as one of such ultramontane view. Now, we confidently\nassert that nowhere in his elaborate treatises on the _Roman\nPontiff_ or the _Church Militant_ any similar definition to the one\nalleged can be found. Who is there who does not know that clear and\nconcise notion given by Bellarmine, in which he has been followed by\nall standard works? For he says,\n\n    \"Nostra autem sententia est, Ecclesiam unam et veram esse\n    c\u0153tum hominum ejusdem Christian\u00e6 fidei professione, et\n    eorundem sacramentorum communione colligatum sub regimine\n    legitumorum pastorum ac pr\u00e6cipue unius Christi in terris\n    Vicarii Romani Pontificis.\"[169]\n\n    \"Our doctrine is, that the one true church is that society\n    of men which is bound together by the profession of the same\n    Christian faith under the government of their lawful pastors,\n    and especially of one vicar of Christ on the earth, the Roman\n    pontiff.\"\n\nThe following passages would exhibit the ultramontane doctrine of\ninfallibility and its consequences:\n\n    \"God has gone to sleep, because in his place his ever-wakeful\n    and infallible vicar on earth rules, as lord of the world, and\n    dispenser of grace and punishment.\" (P. 32.)\n\n    \"The inevitable result of the principle would speedily bring\n    us to this point, that the essence of infallibility consists\n    in the pope's signature to a decree hastily drawn up by a\n    congregation or a single theologian.\" (Preface, xxv.)\n\n    \"Rome is an ecclesiastical address and inquiry-office, or\n    rather, a standing oracle, which can give at once an infallible\n    solution of every doubt, speculative and practical.... With\n    ultramontanes, the authority of Rome, and the typical example\n    of Roman morals and customs, are the embodiment of the moral\n    and ecclesiastical law.\" (P. 35.)\n\n    \"What is called Catholicity can only be attained in the eyes\n    of the court of Rome, by every one translating himself and his\n    ideas, on every subject that has any connection with religion,\n    into Italian.\" (P. 37.)\n\n    \"Infallibility is a principle which will extend its dominion\n    over men's minds more and more, till it has coerced them into\n    subjection to every papal pronouncement in matters of religion,\n    morals, politics, and social science.\"\n\n    \"Every pope, however ignorant of theology, will be free to make\n    what use he likes of his power of _dogmatic creativeness_, and\n    to erect his own thoughts into the common belief, binding on\n    the whole church.\" (P. 39.)\n\n    \"A papal decision, itself the result of a direct divine\n    inspiration.\"\n\n    \"Every other authority will pale beside the living oracle of\n    the Tiber, which speaks with plenary inspiration.\"\n\n    \"What use in tedious investigation of Scripture, what use\n    in wasting time on the difficult study of tradition, which\n    requires so many kinds of preliminary knowledge, when a single\n    utterance of the infallible pope ... and a telegraphic message\n    becomes an axiom and article of faith?\" (P. 40.)\n\n    \"And how will it be in the future?\" asks _Janus_; \"the rabbis\n    say, on every apostrophe in the Bible hang whole mountains of\n    hidden sense, and this will apply equally to papal bulls.\" (P.\n    41.)\n\nWe have been rather copious in our extracts from _Janus_ in order to\ngive him a fair hearing. The question which first presents itself to\na candid mind is, Has _Janus_ given a just and authentic explanation\nof the doctrine of infallibility? We answer most emphatically,\nNo! Never has a doctrine been more unfairly represented than this\n\"ultramontane\" one by our authors. No one will choose to call it\nfair and equitable to disfigure and distort in divers ways the\ndoctrine of an opponent, how much soever it may be against our own\nconvictions. Those who make parade of their \"scientific criticism\"\ncan least resort to such tactics with a view to seek popularity and\nwin the smiles of the uninformed and ignorant among their readers,\nas the authors of _Janus_ have done. Who would fain recognize this\ndoctrine under the colors and shades of this portrait sketched by\n_Janus_? Bellarmine is the great champion of infallibility. (P. 318.)\nYet, nowhere does this eminent divine teach that a papal decision\nis the result of _divine_ inspiration, nor does he attribute to the\npope any power of dogmatic _creativeness_--much less that he can\nerect his own thoughts into universal belief binding the church.\n\"The sovereign pontiff,\" says Bellarmine,[170] \"when he teaches the\nuniversal church, cannot err either in his decrees of faith or in\nmoral precepts which are binding on the whole church, and in such\nthings as are necessary to salvation and in themselves, that is,\n_essentially_ good or evil.\" Another authority well known has the\nfollowing clear _expos\u00e9_ of this question: \"The subject-matter of\nsuch irreformable judgments of the sovereign pontiff is limited to\nquestions of dogmatic and moral import. We distinguish a two-fold\ncharacter in the pope, namely, considering him as a private\nindividual or _doctor privatus_, and by virtue of his office as chief\npastor and as the universal doctor and teacher of all the faithful,\nappointed by Christ. The pope is considered as _universal teacher_\nwhen, using his public authority as the supreme guide of the church,\n(_supremus ecclesi\u00e6 magister_,) he proposes something to the whole\nchurch, obliging all the faithful under anathema, or pain of heresy,\nto believe the article thus proposed with internal assent and divine\nfaith. The pope when teaching under these conditions is said to speak\n_ex cathedra_. We do not here speak of the pope as an individual\nteacher, (_doctor privatus_,) since every one agrees on this, that\nthe pope, just as well as other men, is liable to err, and his\njudgment may be reversed.\"[171]\n\nNow, _Janus_ does away with this distinction by comparing it to\n\"wooden iron\" invented merely as an expedient hypothesis, whereas all\ntheologians of repute agree on this difference, as well as on the\n_essential_ conditions of the _ex cathedra_ decisions. If there be\nsome difficulties and minor differences among theologians on papal\ndecrees, this by no means affects the value of this important and\nnecessary distinction itself. Even the decrees of an \u0153cumenical\ncouncil may give rise to similar differences among theologians. It is\nnothing less than a falsehood on the part of _Janus_ that the cause\nof this inerrancy claimed for the pope as universal teacher is due to\ndirect divine and plenary inspiration. All theologians are unanimous\nin asserting merely a _divine assistance_ to guard against error,\njust as the church herself is divinely guided by the Holy Spirit,\npromised by Christ to reside with her for ever. There cannot be any\nnecessity for substituting inspiration or a new revelation, since the\ninfallible _magisterium_ in the church is exercised in the two-fold\nduty of teaching and preserving _all those truths_ which she has\nreceived as a _sacred deposit_ from her divine Founder. Moreover, it\nis supposed that the pope when issuing such decrees to the universal\nchurch, binding all the faithful, proceeds with that caution and\nprudence which such weighty acts demand, that he has full liberty to\nassure himself of all human counsel and human means to find the true\nand genuine sense of Scripture and tradition. Alluding, therefore, to\n_ignorant popes_ making use of their power of dogmatic creativeness\nand erecting their \"own thoughts\" into dogmas of faith, is an appeal\nto prejudice and commonplace mockery wholly unworthy of writers who\nwould be admired for their calm and dignified scientific labors.\nOther opponents of papal infallibility have never gainsaid that _at\nleast_ this doctrine has always found many and able adherents, who\nhave advanced strong arguments claiming the serious consideration of\nevery theologian and thinking Christian, and therefore recommended by\nmost respectable authority. But _Janus_ comes forward to stamp this\n\"ultramontane doctrine\" with the stigma of absurdity and ridicule,\nand declares its advocates to be miserable sycophants, devoid of all\nlearning or honesty of intention. (P. 320.)\n\nThe references we have given exhibit the doctrine of infallibility\nin such colors as scarcely to be recognized, and all advocates of\nthe doctrine will repudiate such an unfair and arbitrary statement.\nThe cunning insinuation that infallibility invests the popes with\npersonal sanctity and integrity of morals, is no less captious and\nshallow. To what purpose those tirades on the private lives of the\npopes, or the extravagances of the _Curia_, and the administrative\nmeasures of the civil government, etc.? The supposition as though\nthe whole church, that is, all the faithful, would have to accept\nfalsehood for truth, vice for virtue, is a play of _Janus's_\nimagination. For those who uphold papal infallibility exclude the\npossibility of such an issue on account of the intimate union\nnecessarily existing between the church and its spiritual head.\nAccording to the promises of Christ, that union--eminently one of\nfaith--will never be severed, since Christ himself commanded this\nobedience of the flock to Peter and his successors. It cannot for a\nmoment be supposed that the wise Lord of his vineyard sanctioned an\nobligation to accept falsehood for truth, or vice for virtue. The\ninfallible _magisterium_ of the church would be fatally compromised\nif the faithful were commanded by lawful authority to give interior\nassent to a false doctrine. So much for the intrinsic falsehood of\nthe hypothesis of _Janus_. Yet he attempts to surround it with an\nauthoritative garb by citing Bellarmine as maintaining \"that if the\npope were to err by prescribing sins and forbidding virtues, the\nchurch would be bound to consider sins good and virtues evil, unless\nshe chose to sin against conscience.\" (P. 318.)\n\nWho does not at once see this terrible alternative by which _Janus_\ntriumphantly proves from the author quoted \"that whatever doctrine\nit pleases the pope to prescribe, the church must receive\"? Having\nthe work of Bellarmine before our eyes, with the above passage in the\ncontext, we were greatly amazed, to say the least, to see how the\n_entire_ proposition conveys just the very opposite meaning of what\n_Janus_ would induce his readers to believe. Here is the argument in\nquestion:\n\n    \"The pope cannot err in teaching doctrines of faith, nor is he\n    liable to err in giving moral precepts binding the whole church\n    in matters of _essential_ good and evil. For if this were the\n    case, that is, if the pope erred in matters of essential good\n    or evil, he would necessarily err also in faith; for Catholic\n    faith teaches that every virtue is good and every vice evil.\n    Now, if the pope erred by commanding vices or prohibiting\n    virtues, the church would be bound to believe vices good and\n    virtues evil, unless she chose to sin against conscience.\"[172]\n\nBellarmine's meaning evidently is that such an issue becomes\nimpossible. This _reductio ad absurdum_, or showing to what\ncontradiction a denial of his thesis would lead, has been exhibited\nby our authors as a _bona fide_ tenet of Bellarmine! The passage\nitself is _partly_ transcribed with minute reference, so that it is\nbeyond the courtesy of even a mild critique to exonerate _Janus_ from\nthe charge of deliberate dishonesty in this instance.\n\nHitherto we have confined ourselves to a critical examination of a\ndoctrine against which _Janus_ directs his assaults. In the first\nplace, we submitted his version of the same, and afterward the\nauthentic explanation by those whom our authors acknowledge to be\nits most able exponents. The inevitable conclusion which forces\nitself on every mind is, that _Janus_ has developed the doctrine of\ninfallibility to suit his own fancy, and consequently the arguments\nhe brings forward, supposing them true for discussion's sake, would\nindeed undermine the position assumed by himself, but in no way\naffect the genuine one propounded by his opponents. In order to make\ngood his arguments from church history and canonical sources against\nthe stand-point taken by the acknowledged advocates of infallibility,\nthese three conditions must be verified, 1st. That the pope acted\nin his capacity of universal teacher, using his public authority\nas supreme head of the church; 2d. That his judgments appertain to\nmatters of doctrinal belief and moral law necessary to salvation. 3d.\nThat he proposes such things to the faithful, under pain of heresy,\nto be believed with interior assent as of divine faith, that is, a\nrevealed truth. There is the simple issue between _Janus_ and his\nadversaries. Has he advanced one single decree of any pope, invested\nwith these essential conditions, obliging to believe falsehood\nand heresy or commanding to commit an evil and absolutely vicious\naction under the name of virtue? We doubt whether any candid and\ndiscriminating historian will maintain that _Janus_ has accomplished\nany such task. However, that the reader may not suspect us of\nnarrowing the domain of papal infallibility, we will quote a passage\nfrom an able and warm adherent of this doctrine, whose writings are\nwell known as by no means liable to any suspicion of under-statement:\n\n    \"In the case of any given document, we have to consider, from\n    the context and circumstances, which portion of it _expresses_\n    such doctrine; for many statements, even doctrinal, may be\n    introduced, not as authoritative determinations, but in the\n    way of argument and illustration. Many papal pronouncements,\n    though they may introduce doctrinal reasons, yet are not\n    doctrinal pronouncements at all, but disciplinary enactments;\n    the pope's immediate end in issuing them is, not that certain\n    things may be believed, but that certain things may be done.\n    If the doctrinal reasons, even for a doctrinal declaration,\n    are not infallible, much less can infallibility be claimed\n    for the doctrinal reasons of a disciplinarian enactment. Then\n    again, the pope may give some doctrinal decision as head of\n    the church, and yet not as universal teacher. Some individual\n    may ask at his hands, and receive, practical direction on the\n    doctrine to be followed in a particular case, while yet the\n    pope has no thought whatever of determining the question for\n    the whole church and for all time. Much less, as Benedict\n    XIV. remarks, does the fact of his acting officially on some\n    moral opinion fix on it the seal of infallibility as certainly\n    true. Nor, lastly, can any conclusive inference be drawn in\n    favor of some doctrinal practice, from the fact of its not\n    having been censured or prohibited. The pontiff of the day,\n    whether from intellectual or moral defect, may even omit\n    censures and prohibitions which are greatly desirable in the\n    church's interest, or enact laws of an unwise and prejudicial\n    character.\"[173]\n\nAs we have already insinuated, _Janus_ makes this infallibility\nextend to the private conduct of the popes, to their particular\nsayings and to all other things which were merely preliminary steps\nto their official measures. Now, it is certain, as is frequently\nurged by ultramontanes, that the pope, in becoming pope, does not\ncease to be a man, and to have his own private opinions, and not\nbeing infallible in these, by the very force of terms, they may be\nerroneous.\n\nWhat we might thus far have conceded to _Janus_ without great\ninjury to the doctrine he opposes, we now proceed to question, and\nexamine this \"history of the hypothesis of papal infallibility,\nfrom its first beginnings to the end of the sixteenth century.\" He\nhas indeed resuscitated weighty questions, and not unfrequently\nantiquated difficulties which we could point out from works printed\nfor three hundred years and more. In order to be brief and clear, we\nshall begin with the alleged \"forgeries\" upon which _Janus_ insists\nthroughout his book, and thereafter interrogate history as to the\nmany \"papal errors,\" usurpations, and encroachments.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nNOTE.--The terms \"faith,\" \"heresy,\" and \"under anathema,\" in the\nforegoing article, must be understood in their general and not their\nrestricted sense. That is to say, whenever the pope declares or\ndefines any thing which is to be believed with absolute interior\nassent, this is to be considered as belonging to faith, whether\nit be technically a proposition _de fide_, or one which is only\nvirtually and implicitly contained in a dogma. So, also, when he\ncondemns an opinion which is indirectly and virtually contrary to\na dogma of faith, this condemnation is of equal authority with the\ncondemnation of an opinion technically called heretical. The anathema\nneed not be formally expressed, or a special censure annexed, if it\nis made manifest that all Catholics are forbidden to hold the opinion\ncondemned under pain of grievous sin. The monition of the Council\nof the Vatican at the end of the decree on Catholic faith expressly\nenjoins on all Catholics the duty of rejecting not only all heresies,\nthat is, opinions in point-blank contradiction to the dogmas of\nCatholic faith, but all errors approaching more or less to heresy\nwhich are condemned by the holy see.--EDITOR OF CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\n    TO BE CONTINUED.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[169] _De Eccl. Milit._ lib. iii. cap. 2.\n\n[170] _De Rom. Pontif._ lib. iii. capp. 2, 3, 5.\n\n[171] _Theol. Wirceburg._ tom. i. De Princip. Direct. n. 190.\n\n[172] _De Rom. Pontif._ lib. iv. cap. 5. edit. Venet. 1 vol. p. 779.\n\n[173] _The Authority of Doctrinal Decisions._ By Dr. Ward. Pp. 50, 51.\n\n\n\n\nTHE YOUNG VERMONTERS.\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nA NEW ADVENTURE.\n\nAll went on quietly with our young Vermonters for a long time. They\nwere engaged in close attention to their studies, in the regular\nroutine of school duties and recreations of the play-ground, until\nlate in August, when the peaceful current was again disturbed by the\nrestlessness of Frank Blair; and it happened in this wise.\n\nIn the vicinity of the village lived a farmer whom the boys had named\nOld Blue Beech, from his fondness for using a rod of that description\nover the backs of lawless juveniles whom he caught trespassing on\nhis premises. Now, this farmer was very skilful in cultivating\nchoice fruit, and spared no expense or labor in that department;\nrejoicing in an orchard which he held in higher estimation than any\nother earthly possession, and which was an object of greedy envy to\nthe village urchins, who indulged an inveterate spite and aversion\nagainst him, without really knowing why or stopping to inquire. They\nseemed to imagine that his keeping guard over his cherished treasures\njustified them in making frequent incursions, and waging a perpetual\nwarfare of petty annoyances against him.\n\nIt so happened this year that he had several early pear and\napple-trees, of rare and excellent varieties, in bearing for the\nfirst time, and well laden with most tempting fruit, now nearly ripe.\n\nFrank Blair set his wits about inventing some plan by which he\nand his comrades could possess themselves of this fruit without\ndetection. He formed and dismissed many schemes, at length devising\none that he thought could be safely carried out. Accordingly, on a\ncertain cloudy evening an assemblage of the boys--among whom I am\nsorry to say were Mike Hennessy and Johnny Hart--met by appointment\nin a grove near the farm, and from which to the orchard a strip\nof woodland extended, furnishing a convenient hiding-place, to\naccomplish the project.\n\nIt never entered their heads that stealing this fruit was just as\nmuch a theft as to steal one of the farmer's horses. Nothing could\nhave tempted one of their number to steal, and any confectioner in\nthe village might have spread his most tempting stores unguarded\nbefore them without losing so much as a comfit; so sacredly would\nthey have held his right to his own. But boys have a most perverse\nand wicked mode of reasoning about fruit. They cannot be made to\nregard it as the property of the person who has expended much money\nand many years of patient labor to produce it; and while these boys\nwould have shuddered at the thought of purloining the farmer's gold\nwatch or his silver spoons, which, perhaps, he would sooner have\nparted with, they did not scruple to rob him of what he had taken\ninfinite pains to cultivate for his own benefit.\n\nOn this occasion our young marauders had furnished themselves with\nbags and baskets, in which to deposit their plunder; and as the\nnight advanced, they proceeded through the woods to the orchard very\ncautiously, pausing every few steps to listen if any movement was to\nbe heard. As all was quiet, they hoped the family in the farm-house\nwere asleep. After they had gathered most of the pears and a large\nportion of the apples, they were startled by the low growl of a dog\nat some distance.\n\n\"I wonder if the old chap keeps a watch-dog?\" said Frank. They\nlistened in perfect silence for some time, hardly daring to breathe;\nbut hearing nothing further, set about their task with renewed\nenergy, and were all engaged in stowing away the apples, when\nsuddenly a glare of light from a large dark-lantern was thrown full\nupon the faces of the whole party, at the same moment revealing the\nburly form of farmer Brown, and his Frenchman, leading a powerful\nwatch-dog by a chain. At the instant the farmer turned the light upon\nthem, he said sternly, \"Any boy that attempts to stir from the spot,\nI will let the dog loose after him, and I warrant he'll be glad to\ncome back in a hurry!\"\n\nThe boys needed no such warning. They were taken so entirely by\nsurprise that they could not move. The farmer made a low bow, and\nsaid with mock courtesy,\n\n\"I am very much obliged to you, young gentlemen, for your kind\nassistance in gathering my fruit, though you selected rather an\nunseasonable hour for performing the service. Your bags and baskets\nwill repay me, however, for my broken rest. It is a pity such\nfriendly labors should go unrewarded, and I shall take pains to\ninform your fathers of them to-morrow morning, that they may bestow\nthe recompense you have so well earned.\"\n\nWith that he gathered together the bags and baskets of fruit, saying,\n\"Good-night, you young dogs! The next time you undertake to steal\nfruit, I advise you to find out first how the orchard is guarded,\nand whether there's a dog on the premises stronger and swifter of\nfoot than yourselves!\" and departed.\n\nA more chap-fallen crew than he left behind him cannot well be\nimagined! They started for the village by the most direct route, as\nthere was no further need of concealment, and for a long time the\nsilence of their rapid homeward march was unbroken. At length the\nwrath of Frank Blair found utterance.\n\n\"The mean old hunks! who would have thought of his keeping that\nsneaking Frenchman on guard that way? If it hadn't been for the dog,\nI would have shown fight, and they shouldn't have carried off the\nprize without some broken noses; but I knew it was no use to pitch\ninto a fight with that fierce dog against us! He's an old milksop to\ndepend on a dog for help.\"\n\nThe boys made no reply, and Frank saw he had gained no renown by\nthis adventure. He felt heartily ashamed of the whole affair, while\nan innate sense of justice assured him and his companions that the\nfarmer had a right to defend his own property by any means within his\nreach.\n\nThey all betook themselves to rest with no enviable feelings. Some of\nthem, who feared to disturb their families, were glad to lie on the\nhay in the barn.\n\nIn the morning they trudged off to school in good season, with many\ngloomy forebodings as to what was in store for them. About the middle\nof the forenoon, Mr. Blair made his appearance accompanied by the\nfarmer, and informed the teacher of the attempt to rob the orchard,\nand that he had requested Mr. Brown to come with him to identify the\nculprits.\n\nMr. Brown selected them one by one, and, as each was pointed out, he\nhad to rise and take his place in the middle of the school-room.\n\nWhen they were all arranged there, with Frank at their head, Mr.\nBlair delivered a sharp reprimand to them, not failing to intimate\nthat nothing but future ruin was in store for the country if Yankee\nboys allowed themselves to be drawn into disgraceful rows and\nthieving expeditions by a set of Irish blackguards, and winding up by\nsevere threats against those of this company in particular, and all\n\"foreign scum\" in general.\n\nAfter a short consultation between the teacher and Mr. Blair, it was\nannounced that the punishment of the offenders would be left to Mr.\nBrown.\n\nThe farmer then stated that he had advised with his wife, and, as\nhe had been pretty severe upon such culprits hitherto, without much\neffect, they had decided to take another course now.\n\n\"So, young gentlemen,\" he added, \"she has authorized me to present\nher compliments to the school, and request all but the boys who\nwere engaged in this transaction to come with the principal early\non Saturday morning next, to pass the day with us. I have two boats\nengaged, with abundant fishing-tackle, for those who prefer the\nwater, and fowling-pieces for the woods, where game is plenty; so\nyou can take your choice of sports on land or water. I promise you a\nplentiful feast of the fruit which these youngsters kindly gathered.\"\n\nThe teacher politely accepted the invitation on behalf of himself\nand the scholars, and the farmer, after again reminding them to come\nearly in the day, departed with Mr. Blair.\n\nThe feelings of the excluded boys may be imagined, and the teacher\ngave them such touching advice in relation to the enticements and\ntemptations of boyhood--speaking like one who remembered he had\nhimself been a boy--that they doubted more than ever the fun of\n\"tip-top times,\" and the wisdom of following leaders like Frank Blair.\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nAN UNWELCOME INTRUDER.\n\nThe next morning as the scholars collected, they found Frank Blair\nand several of the excluded boys in the play-ground, grouped\ntogether in close discussion. When they approached, Frank called out\nexultingly,\n\n\"I give you fellows joy of your select party to-morrow! Joe Bundy is\nto be one of the company.\"\n\nThis Joe Bundy, whose mother died in the poor-house some years\nbefore, was a vile, depraved boy, somewhat older than the subjects of\nour narrative, who never came to school, leading an idle, vagabond\nlife, and so heartily despised by the boys on account of his vagrant\nhabits and thievish propensities that they would have nothing to do\nwith him. They heard with great surprise and indignation, therefore,\nthat he was among the invited on this occasion, for his character was\nwell known to the farmer.\n\nIn explanation of this singular circumstance, a fact, not made known\nto them until long after these events, may as well be communicated\nhere. On the night when our heroes set out to rob the orchard, it\nso chanced that Joe Bundy had entered upon a similar exploit on his\nown account, and was concealed in the grove where he overheard their\nconversation, and, suddenly relinquishing his own plan, hastened\nto inform the farmer, the result of which report has been already\nrelated. Mr. Brown was so well pleased that he included the informer\namong the invited, though he knew he was a bad boy and disliked by\nall the others.\n\nAt noon on that day, Joe saw Michael Hennessy, and called out,\n\"Hallo, Mike! don't you wish you was going to the farm with the rest\nof us? Such precious fun as we shall have, and sights of good eating,\ntoo! An't you sorry you can't go?\"\n\n\"No, I'm not!\" said Michael; \"I wouldn't go any way, if you were to\nbe there!\"\n\nJoe turned off, muttering something in a sullen undertone, and\ncasting a malignant glance at Michael.\n\nAt the close of school in the afternoon, the teacher told the\nscholars to meet him at the school-house the next morning, that they\nmight all set out together. Bright and early on as fine a morning as\ncould be desired, did the merry company gather, with nothing but the\nabsence of those who were generally foremost in their frolics, and\nthe presence of Joe Bundy, to mar their pleasure.\n\nAfter a delightful walk, they were greeted at the farm-house with a\nhearty welcome, and found every possible arrangement made for their\nenjoyment.\n\nSome betook themselves to the boats provided with means for fishing.\nOthers, armed with fowling-pieces, sought the woods in quest of\npartridges, squirrels, and other game of the season; while a few\nstrolled off to a sequestered pond, where wild ducks abounded, and\nwhere a small duck-boat was provided to aid in securing the spoils.\n\nAt the proper time they were summoned to partake of an excellent\ndinner; and so swift had been the flight of the hours that they could\nhardly believe the forenoon was gone. At the close of a sumptuous\nfeast and dessert, they were regaled with an abundant supply of the\ncaptured fruit, to all of which their fine appetites prepared them to\ndo ample justice.\n\nThe whole day was so replete with mirth, frolic, and sunshine that\nthey saw the time for their return drawing near with regret.\n\nWhen they left, Mrs. Brown distributed to each a portion of the fruit\nfor their mothers and sisters, and Mr. Brown invited them to come\nagain late in the fall, to gather nuts that abounded in the woods.\n\nThey could talk of nothing on their way home but the kindness of good\nMr. and Mrs. Brown, and the incidents and pleasures of the day; the\nteacher taking occasion to contrast such innocent and simple delights\nwith the wild excitements and lawless frolics in which boys are too\napt to seek for enjoyment.\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\nMISFORTUNE AND GRIEF.\n\nWhen the scholars assembled on Monday morning, the first news they\nheard was that Mr. Brown's splendid and valuable watch-dog had been\npoisoned, and died on Saturday night.\n\nMr. Brown had obtained evidence so convincing against Michael\nHennessy as to cause his arrest.\n\nGreat was the indignation of his young friends, and unanimous their\ndeclarations that they knew Michael did not do it.\n\n\"A great deal more like that hateful Joe Bundy,\" said one.\n\n\"Oh! it couldn't be him,\" said another; \"for he was one of the party,\nand of course it wasn't he. If he hadn't been invited, he might have\ndone it out of spite; but now he had no object.\"\n\nVarious were the conjectures and discussions at school and in the\nwhole neighborhood.\n\nThe trial was on Tuesday, and Mr. Blair was the prosecuting attorney.\nThe village apothecary testified that on the Friday previous Michael\nHennessy purchased some poison of him, representing that his mother\nsent him for it to poison rats. A neighbor of Mr. Brown's alleged\nthat he saw Michael passing his residence in the road on Saturday\nafternoon, and Joe Bundy averred that he saw him prowling around the\nfarm buildings about the time indicated by the last witness.\n\nMrs. Hennessy testified that she sent Michael for the poison to kill\nthe rats that infested their premises. Mr. Hennessy said he had\nmended a hand-reel for a person who lived just beyond Mr. Brown's,\nand sent Michael home with it on Saturday afternoon.\n\nMr. Blair accepted the evidence of the parents, and urged the\nprobability that a portion of the poison had been reserved by the lad\nas an instrument of his spite against Mr. Brown, for the application\nof which the errand upon which he was dispatched furnished an\nopportunity.\n\nHe set forth every circumstance unfavorable to poor Michael in the\nstrongest possible light, blending with his argument such reflections\nand assertions upon the character and training of the children of\nforeign parentage as could not fail to influence a prejudiced jury.\n\nNotwithstanding an able defence, the jury, after a short\nconsultation, returned a verdict of \"guilty,\" and Michael was\nsentenced for twelve months to the reform-school.\n\nNothing could exceed the grief and indignation of his comrades, or\nthe sympathy of the whole village with poor Mr. and Mrs. Hennessy.\nMichael stoutly protested his innocence, and there were but very few\nwho doubted it; but his father, whose health was very poor and his\nfamily large, was not able to risk an appeal to a higher court, which\nwould probably, after all, confirm the decision, and Mike was not\nwilling to have him. So they prepared, with heavy hearts, for the\nseparation.\n\n\"Indeed!\" said Mrs. Sullivan to her neighbor Mrs. Mellen--\"indeed,\nit's a sore thing to be put upon two such decent people, through the\nhatred of that miserable old Blair against an Irishman's boy, and him\nas innocent as the child in his mother's arms!\"\n\n\"You knew them before they came here, I have heard,\" said Mrs.\nMellen, who had not lived long in the place.\n\n\"They came over on the vessel with us, and were from the next county\nat home; and this was the way of it:\n\n\"The two brothers, Pat and Mike Hennessy, married two sisters, Mary\nand Bridget Denver. They were decent tradesmen as any in the two\ncounties, and were well enough to do until the hard times came, when\nold Ireland saw her poor children starving on every side so that it\nwould melt the heart of a stone, or any thing softer than an English\nlandlord's, to hear tell of it. Well, in the midst of the famine,\nMike agreed that he'd come to America, and prepare a place against\nPatrick should come with Mary and Bridget. So when he left them, Pat\nset to get all he could together by selling his bits of furniture and\nthings, and when times grew worse and worse, he would not delay, but\ntook Mary with her baby of a week old, and Bridget, and came, as I\nsaid, on the vessel with us; and, by the same token, the ship's name\nwas the Hibernia. A good name with a rough fortune, like the dear old\nland; for the weather was boisterous from first to last, and when we\nhad been out four days, the most awful storm arose, that you'd think\nheaven and earth was comin' together. And in the midst of it what\ndoes poor Bridget do but sicken and die with the fright, leaving her\nlittle baby; but it followed its mother that same night which was\nGod's blessing on it, poor motherless thing, seein' it was baptized\nby a priest we had on board, and who attended Bridget at the last.\n\n\"When we reached Boston, no tidings was to be heard of Mike; so Pat\nstaid there hopin' to get news of him, and we came on to Vermont,\nwhere Sullivan's sister's husband came the year before.\n\n\"After a while Pat heard that the vessel Mike sailed on was struck by\nan iceberg, and went down with all on board; and it was called the\nPolar Queen, a name no knowledgeable man would have put on a vessel,\nin respect of them same icebergs, that would naturally enough claim\ntheir own.\n\n\"So when Pat heard these news, and he not finding such work as he\nwanted, seein' it was very costly living in the city, they started\nfor the West; but hearing at Albany that the cholera was ragin'\nthere, they turns and they follows us to Vermont, thinking, poor\ncreatures! that it would be some comfort to be near those who knew\nof all their troubles. The church was then a building, and Mr.\nWingate gave him work on it, and has been the best of friends to him\never since, and he has never wanted for employment; but lately his\nhealth is poor, and I'm afeered this grief will kill him entirely,\nand indeed my heart is scalded for them, bein' that we're all as one\nfamily, and their sorrow is our sorrow.\"\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\nAFFLICTED AND CONSOLED.\n\nWhen the morning appointed for the departure of Michael arrived, the\nwhole school assembled to accompany him to the depot, and take leave\nof him. The teacher gave him much good advice, and exhorted him to\nconform closely to all the rules of the institution, adding, \"And I\nhave no doubt you will, Michael; for you have always been a good,\nattentive, and obedient scholar.\"\n\nThe parting with his parents and the children was inexpressibly\npainful; but for their sakes he bore up manfully under it, cheering\nthem with brave words, and suppressing his grief until the dear home\nwith all its cherished associations was no longer in sight. Oh! how\nbitterly and dismally did the heavy grief he had so struggled with,\nand tried so heroically to smother, then press upon him; he still\nchoked it down until he was ready to suffocate, and then the weary\nsense of desolation, of cruel injustice, and of a homesickness which\nmade the sight of a year's separation from all he loved, that was now\nstaring him in the face, seem an age of insupportable sorrow, rushed\nupon him with overwhelming power, and found relief in floods of tears.\n\nThe officer who had him in charge tried to soothe and cheer him;\nassuring him that it was a very pleasant place to which he was going,\nand that he would be treated with the utmost kindness if he behaved\nwell. But what was the kindness of strangers to the tenderness of\ndear parents from whom he had never before been separated? What could\nthe place be to him, though ever so comfortable, to which he was\nconsigned, in his innocence, as a disgraced felon?\n\nNo! there was no comfort for him! and again the convulsive sobs shook\nhis whole frame, and the pride of his honest Irish heart rebelled\nagainst the injustice of his cruel fate; when suddenly he remembered\nthe words his dear mother whispered softly, amidst sighs and tears,\nat parting, \"Remember, darling! remember the loving Jesus! and how\nhe suffered, being innocent, for our sins. When you are tempted to\ndespair, fly to the wound in his sacred heart, ever open to receive\nand comfort the broken-hearted, and you will surely find comfort and\npeace.\" From that moment he became calm. He sought that dear refuge,\nand hid himself there from the storm that was raging within and\nwithout.\n\nHe had always been a warm-hearted boy, an affectionate, generous, and\ndutiful son and brother; but now he reproached himself that he had\nnever prized his dear ones at half their value, or loved them with\nany thing approaching to the degree of affection which they deserved.\nOh! if he could only be with them again, how would he strive to show\nhis love by the most entire devotion, and the most diligent efforts\nto assist and sustain them.\n\nThen how did the memory of the wild frolics in which he had joined,\nand for which he had even neglected his religious duties, come back\nlike accusing spirits to whisper to his afflicted heart that it was\njust he should be punished.\n\nAfter a few hours' ride, they reached the place of their destination,\nand the principal, a venerable old man with a most benevolent\ncountenance and manner, received Michael very kindly, even tenderly.\n\nWith strong efforts the poor lad was able to maintain his composure\nuntil he prepared for his bed at night, when the same dark sense\nof desolation overwhelmed him, as recollections of his dear home,\nand the kneeling circle, where his place was to be so long vacant,\npressed upon him; but the thought of how fondly he would be\nremembered in their united prayers this and every other night poured\na ray of light upon his stricken soul. Again recalling his mother's\nwords, he knelt by his bedside, commending himself and all his\nbeloved and afflicted ones to his Saviour, and to the prayers of the\ntender Virgin Mother who never forsakes her children; and then slept\nthe peaceful sleep of a tired, exhausted child on that maternal bosom.\n\nThe next morning he was duly instructed in the routine of his present\nposition, and soon found that the most diligent attention to its\nduties served to relieve the crushing weight which seemed to be\npressing the very life-blood from his young heart. After a few days,\nhe won approving smiles from the principal, who was as ready to\nappreciate the merits of those under his charge as he was to reprove\ntheir faults.\n\nThe Saturday after Michael's arrival, the devoted bishop of the\ndiocese visited the institution, and heard the confessions of the\nCatholic members. This was an unspeakable consolation to Michael; and\nhis heart felt lighter than he had thought it ever would again after\nhe had poured the tale of all its sins and all its sorrows into that\npaternal ear. The bishop had obtained permission for the Catholic\nboys to attend mass at their own chapel in the place, and at his\nrecommendation they were placed under Michael's care to and from the\nchurch.\n\nSome of these were very wild, reckless boys, hardened in vice and\niniquity, and disposed to \"poke fun\" at the \"new prig,\" as they\ncalled Michael.\n\nAt first, when he was saying his prayers, they would shoot peas at\nhim, flip buttons in his face, and even repeat portions of prayers\nin mocking derision. But he paid no heed to them. After a few days,\ntwo or three others knelt to their prayers at night and morning, and\nthen he obtained permission from the principal to recite the beads\nwith these at night. It was not long before they were joined by every\nCatholic boy in the dormitory.\n\nThere is a wonderful vigor and tenacity in the life our Catholic\nMother--our Mighty Mother, ever ancient, ever new--imparts. When, by\nour own fault, we seem to have quenched the last spark of living fire\nwhich she kindled upon the altar of our hearts, a passing breath from\nheaven wafted gently through a fitting word kindly spoken, or the\nvoice of hymn or prayer over the dying embers on the almost abandoned\nshrine, will awaken the flame anew, and draw the wanderer back to the\nforsaken source of life, of light, and of warmth.\n\nIt was very consoling to Michael to witness this returning vitality\nin the hearts of his unfortunate companions; and they soon became\nso fond of him as to seek his advice and confide all their troubles\nto him. The influence he thus acquired was a great relief to the\nprincipal. It was no longer necessary for him to exercise unceasing\nvigilance over these, who had been among the most turbulent boys\nunder his care, to prevent violent outbreaks; for they were now the\nmost diligent, attentive, and orderly members of the establishment.\n\nAnd Michael's efforts brought their own reward to himself. The\nconsciousness of being useful to others brought cheerfulness to his\nheart, and lent new wings to old time, whose flight had at first\nbeen so heavy and slow; so that at the end of the first month he was\nsurprised to find how swiftly it had flown.\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\nTHE DYING PENITENT'S DISCLOSURE.\n\nThere were many sad hearts in the village of M----, outside of\nMichael Hennessy's home, on the day of his departure. The event cast\na gloom over the whole village; for his bright, sunny face was a\njoy to many of its residents, and there seemed to be a ray of light\nstricken out when he departed.\n\nHis young companions could no longer enjoy the sports of the\nplay-ground; but might be seen gathered in quiet groups discussing\nand lamenting the loss of their joyous comrade. None mourned for\nhim more than Frank Blair; for his grief over the absence of a\nloved school-mate was increased by the part his father had taken\nin bringing it about. He saw the time approaching for his own\ndeparture, to take his place in the naval school, with a sullen\napathy that alarmed his mother and aunt, and repeatedly expressed his\nindifference as to whether he should ever return to M----.\n\nWhen Michael had been absent about two months, Joe Bundy returned\nto M---- from one of his frequent distant rambles; and soon after\nhis return was taken very ill. The physician pronounced it a very\nmalignant case of the small-pox, and had him removed to a building\nquite out of the village. He was so generally disliked that it was\ndifficult to find any one to take care of him; but when Mrs. Hennessy\nheard of it, she offered to go if Mrs. Sullivan would look after her\nhouse; her oldest daughter, Jane, being old enough to get along with\na little direction. She accordingly went, and found him much worse\nthan she expected, and suffering intensely. As soon as he saw her, he\nbecame so violently agitated that she thought he was delirious, and\nthe impression was confirmed by his pleading in the most moving terms\nfor her forgiveness, and that she would send for the priest, when he\nhad always been a Protestant. She tried to soothe him; but he only\nbegged the more earnestly, and assured her that he was not delirious.\nSo when the physician came, she requested him to send Mr. Hennessy\nfor the priest.\n\nUpon the arrival of the reverend father, the young man, to his great\nsurprise, begged to be admitted into the Catholic Church.\n\nThe priest, having satisfied himself as to his dispositions, and\nimparted the necessary instruction, administered conditional baptism,\nand then heard his confession. At its close Joe repeated a portion\nto Mrs. Hennessy; and the fact was then disclosed to her that he\nhad poisoned the dog and perjured himself to gratify his anger at\nMichael's scornful remark, and his spiteful feelings toward a boy who\nwas so generally beloved.\n\nThe physician coming in soon after, the same information was conveyed\nto him; and he made no delay in communicating it to Mr. Hennessy,\nthat he might act upon it at once.\n\nThe news flew like wild-fire through the village; and great were the\nrejoicings on every hand. The school-boys were frantic with joy; and\nthe teacher announced that the day of Michael's return should be\ncelebrated by a holiday of triumphant exultation and welcome to their\nreturning friend.\n\nMeasures were instituted for Michael's immediate release; and the\npeople could hardly await the necessary course of legal formalities.\n\nMeantime poor Joe grew worse; and after improving those last few\ndays of suffering by manifesting such penitence as the time and\nthe circumstances would allow, and receiving from the priest those\nconsolations which the church extends to penitent sinners, he died.\n\nUpon examining his few effects, a roll of counterfeit bills was\ndiscovered; and it was conjectured that his last journey was made to\nprocure them, as he had told Mrs. Hennessy that he supposed he took\nthe small-pox on a recent visit to Canada.\n\nWhen the papers were ready, Mr. Blair claimed the privilege of\ngoing after Michael. He reproached himself so bitterly for his own\ninjustice that he could not do enough to manifest his regret.\n\nA larger crowd was never assembled in the village than met at\nthe depot in M---- on the evening of his arrival with his young\ncompanion. They were greeted with joyful cheers, repeated again\nand again; and Mr. Blair led Michael to his father, saying, \"Let\nme congratulate you, Mr. Hennessy, on being able to claim such a\nson. During the short time he has been away, among strangers and\nunder most unfavorable circumstances, he has established a character\nthat any young man might envy; and it was truly touching to witness\nthe grief of his unfortunate young companions at parting with him.\nThe principal also passed the highest encomiums upon his conduct.\nAllow me also to express to this assemblage of my fellow-townsmen\nmy sincere regret that I should have had any part in his unjust\nconviction, and allowed myself to be governed by prejudices, too\ncommon in our country, which I now lay aside for ever. There are good\nand bad people among natives and foreigners; and the man exhibits but\nlittle good sense who passes sweeping condemnations upon either.\"\n\nThe school-boys, with their teacher at the head, formed a procession\nto escort Michael to his father's house; and a happier circle was not\nto be found in Vermont than the one that knelt around Mr. Hennessy's\nfamily altar that night, to return fervent thanksgivings to heaven\nfor having permitted the separated to be again and so speedily\nreunited!\n\n    TO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\n\n\nTEN YEARS IN ROME.[174]\n\n\nRome, the city of the soul! Who is there that does not nowadays feel\nhis thoughts turning almost involuntarily to the seven-hilled city?\nTo her many ordinary claims on our minds, there has of late been\nadded one of startling interest--the \u0152cumenical Council--which\nhas not failed to excite the attention of the world. It is the daily\ntheme of prayer and of hope for the devout child of the church. To\nthe worldling, it is a theme of curiosity and idle speculation. To\nthe enemies of the church, the council is a subject of alarm and of\nvague apprehensions. In Europe, where men curiously mix politics and\nreligion, their opposition takes the hue of _odium politicum_; and\njournals, reviews, and pamphlets are filled with the most _outr\u00e9_\naccounts of what the writers assert has been done or will be done\nin the council, adverse to liberty, progress, and civilization. In\nAmerica, where as yet men have not lost the habit of separating\npolitics from religion, such effusions as these would be looked\non as simply stupid, unreadable nonsense. Here, however, as also\nin England, the _odium theologicum_ retains its olden character\nand makes use of its olden weapons. It is worth while to note the\napparently systematic efforts made to repeat old calumnies, and to\ncoin new stories after the old pattern, and to force them on the\npublic attention, on occasion of this universal interest, in the\nevident expectation that they will now be swallowed as credulously as\nthey might have been fifty years ago. No greater tribute, we think,\ncould be paid to the real advancement of the public mind than to say\nthat this expectation has in very great measure proved vain. There\nare things and stories which nowadays most men instinctively feel to\nbe too absurd for belief. Hence it is scarcely worth while to take up\nsuch stories for serious examination. They are simply to be put in a\nclass together, and to be properly labelled, and to be ranked below\nthe sensational tales in the _Ledger_. This is especially the case\nwhen they appear in organs specially devoted to the cause which such\nstories are intended to support.\n\nNow and then, however, it may be allowed to dissect such a\nproduction, that the evidence of facts may occasionally confirm\nand strengthen the true instinct which we already possess. More\nespecially is this allowable, when the story is peculiarly bold\nand prominent, and comes before the public through a channel in\nwhich we are not prepared to look for an exhibition of the old and\nunscrupulous hatred.\n\nSuch an instance has been presented in several articles in the\n_Galaxy_, a monthly periodical published in this city, and aiming to\nbe a literary and instructive magazine \"of value and interest.\"\n\nAmong the writers engaged for the pages of the _Galaxy_ is one who\nis represented as having been a Roman Catholic ecclesiastic, and who\ncontributes a series of articles under the title, \"Ten Years in Rome.\"\n\nAccording to these articles, the writer is an Englishman, and was\nat one time a Catholic priest in Rome. He went to Rome in 1855-56,\nbearing letters of introduction, was received at once into the\nPropaganda College, increasing the number of Irish, Scotch, and\nEnglish students in that college to _nine_, passed from there\nto the Vatican, to live \"under the same roof with the pope,\"\nbecame assistant-librarian to the Congregation of the Index, and\nsubsequently was the confidential and trusty secretary of the late\nCardinal d'Andrea, whose private papers--or at least some of them--he\nclaims still to possess. The _Galaxy_ does not give the name of this\nwriter. But the daily papers informed us, some time ago, that a\nreverend gentleman of England delivered a lecture at the lecture-room\nof Plymouth Church, Brooklyn, on Rome and its religion and society;\nand was qualified to do so, because he had been formerly \"an official\nof the Roman court, secretary to the late Cardinal d'Andrea, and\nassistant librarian in the Index Expurgatorius.\" The lecturer was\nevidently the same individual as the writer for the _Galaxy_. The\npapers gave his name, which, we are sorry to say, smacks far more of\nthe Green Island than of England.\n\nNow, it so happened that we were in a position to test at once and\nfully the accuracy of these statements in regard to the past history\nof the lecturer and writer; and we reached the following results:\n\n1. No young English youth or clergyman of that name ever was received\ninto the College of the Propaganda at Rome. This is shown by the\nrecords of the college, and is corroborated by the assurances of the\npresent rector, who, in 1855, had been for several years vice-rector,\nand has ever since been connected with the college, and also by the\nrecollection of half a dozen Irish and American students, who were\nthen in the college, and would have been his companions.\n\n2. During the last twenty-five years there never was an officer of\nthe Roman court, or an English or Irish ecclesiastic connected\nwith it, in any way, of that name. The list of all such officers\nis regularly published every year. This name has never figured\nthere. Officers of twenty years' standing in the Vatican have no\nrecollection of him. An Englishman could scarcely have been entirely\noverlooked. And at least his brother Englishmen, who are officers of\nthe court, would have known and remembered him.\n\n3. During the same period, no person of that name has filled\nthe office of librarian, or assistant-librarian, of the Index\nExpurgatorius, or of the Congregation of the Index. The officials of\nthat congregation are all Dominicans; and the writer does not pretend\nthat he ever joined that order. We may add the other insignificant\nfact, that no such library is known to exist at all, much less to be\nso large as to require the services not only of a librarian, but of\none, perhaps of several, assistant-librarians.\n\n4. The late Cardinal d'Andrea never had a secretary of that name.\nThis is the assurance unanimously given us by the friends and\nintimate acquaintances of the cardinal, and by the members of his\nhousehold, who had lived with him for twenty years. There can be no\ndoubt on this fact. We may add one little item. Cardinal d'Andrea\nhad no secretary. The _secretary_ of a cardinal is an ecclesiastic.\nWhen a layman is chosen to fill the place, he is called, not the\n_secretary_, but the _chancellor_ of the cardinal. Cardinal d'Andrea,\nfrom 1852, when he was made cardinal, down to his death, employed as\n_chancellor_ an estimable and well-educated gentleman, whom he had\nknown well, and had been intimately associated with for years before,\nand who still lives in Rome.\n\n5. Although, considering that forty or fifty thousand strangers\nvisit Rome every year, it may be possible that the writer in _The\nGalaxy_ did, at some time or other, enter that city, yet we are\npretty certain that he never spent any considerable time there--much\nless, ten years--as an ecclesiastic. We have made inquiries of a\nnumber of clergymen, Englishmen and Irishmen, resident in the Eternal\nCity for thirty years, who from their positions must have heard of\nsuch a one, and could not have escaped becoming acquainted with him\nunder some circumstances or other. One after another, they assured us\nthat they had never met, and could not remember ever having heard of\nsuch, an ecclesiastic.\n\nIt is unfortunate that, in such striking and important matters of\nhis own personal history, concerning which he ought to be perfectly\nwell-informed, the memory of our lecturer and writer fails so\nentirely to agree with the recollection and knowledge of so many\nothers. If this is the case here, what may we look for when he\nundertakes to remember what happened to others?\n\nOur writer makes his bow to the readers of _The Galaxy_ in the\nnumber of December last, in the character of \"_Secretary of the late\nCardinal d'Andrea_,\" concerning whom he gives an article of nine\npages, intended to be sensational and artistic. He opens thus:\n\n    \"The church of San Giovanni in Laterano was filled with an\n    unusually excited throng. The magnificent edifice, the pope's\n    cathedral, as bishop of Rome, was draped for a funeral. The\n    marble pillars,\" etc., etc.\n\nTo be sure, the description of the edifice which follows is rather\nmisty, to one who knows it, and some things, we suspect, are\nintroduced which no architect ever saw there. But then, \"in the\ncentre of the church,\" stands \"the chief object of interest,\" \"a\ngorgeous catafalque,\" \"entirely covered with black velvet, very\ntastefully festooned with silver.\" \"Escutcheons were placed at\nintervals, bearing the arms of the deceased. On the bier lay a\ncardinal's hat, a pastoral staff, and a mitre. Six gigantic candles\nof yellow wax were burning around it.\" The pope and the cardinals\nwere to come to the funeral. As the cardinal-minister (Antonelli)\n\"stepped from his carriage\" in front of the church, \"there was a deep\nhum\" from the crowd. For they suspected him of having compassed the\ndeath of the only cardinal they honored, who was to be buried that\nday. \"His face was very pale;\" \"he played nervously with the jewelled\ncross hanging from his neck.\" \"He could read his doom in hundreds of\nscowling faces; the curses, not loud but deep, he well interpreted.\nAs he ascended the steps of the church, a shrill voice cried out,\n'Down with the assassin!'\" \"The French guards clinched their rifles,\"\nand \"closed in\" at a sign to their captain; and so Cardinal Antonelli\nentered the church. After praising the exquisite requiem mass of\nMozart, with selections from Palestrina, and the perfect choir of\nvoices, rendering any instrument superfluous, the writer places the\npope at the head of the catafalque. \"He was visibly moved.\" \"There\nwas a tremor in his clear, harmonious voice.\" \"He whose requiem was\nbeing sung had been a friend and a counsellor.\" When at length the\nservices were over, and the pope and the _cort\u00e9ge_ of cardinals had\ndeparted, \"the people rushed into the church to render the only\nservice they could to the departed; and strong men, unused to prayer,\nuttered their fervent _requiescat in pace!_\"\n\n\"This was the funeral of Cardinal d'Andrea, Abbot of Santa\nScolastica, statesman, politician, and patriot. It occurred on the\n22d day of March 1865.\"\n\nNow all this may be a very artistic method of introducing a story.\nThe chief objection that we have to it is that the writer makes such\na parade about the funeral of Cardinal d'Andrea. We think he rather\novercharges the picture. Had it been any body else's funeral, we\nmight possibly let it pass. But in the case of this cardinal, we\nobject; for, to our own knowledge, on this 22d day of March, 1865,\nCardinal d'Andrea was not lying dead on that bier in San Giovanni\nin Laterano, as described, but, on the contrary, was alive, if not\nperfectly well, in Sorrento, near Naples, whither he had gone over\nnine months before for his health. Nor did he die about this time;\nbut he lived on, and wrote some letters from time to time, which\nwere published in the papers, and one, if not several, pamphlets,\nwhich were very acceptable to editors in Italy and France, in quest\nof themes for their leading articles. As late as the autumn of 1867,\nthe papers were discussing what step Cardinal d'Andrea would next\ntake. And they chronicled his return to Rome in December, 1867.\nYes, we decidedly object. We do not think that this writer, however\nextraordinary his powers of memory may be, has a right to bury\nCardinal d'Andrea alive, to say nothing of bringing the venerable\npontiff to grief, of frightening Cardinal Antonelli, of making\nthe French guards clinch their rifles and go through a military\nman\u0153uvre, and, last of all, of so terribly exciting a Roman crowd\nabout the death of one who had not died at all.\n\nHaving commenced the performance by this _tour de force_ before his\npublic, our \"secretary of the late Cardinal d'Andrea,\" like a skilful\nactor as he is, jumps a somersault backward two years and a half,\n(carrying us to about September, 1862,) and undertakes to give us\nsome inkling of how Cardinal d'Andrea and Cardinal Antonelli came to\nbe opposed to each other. There was a plan entered into by several\ncardinals and monsignori to induce the pope to recommend Cardinal\nAntonelli to resign his office as Cardinal-Minister and Secretary\nof State. The \"secretary\" omits to inform us distinctly whether\nCardinal d'Andrea was a party to the plan or not. But we are left\nto infer that he was. It failed. And ever after, Cardinal d'Andrea\ndid not enjoy the confidence of the pope to the degree he had done\nbefore; and Cardinal Antonelli and his followers hated him. The\n_recollection_ of this intrigue, and its failure, is followed by an\nexposition of the political sentiments of the cardinal. \"He became\nthe leader of the liberal policy of Cavour, in Rome.\"\n\nNow, here again we object. That a number of cardinals or monsignori\nshould think that it would be well if a cardinal secretary of state,\nfor the time being, should resign; and that affairs would be better\nmanaged, if another incumbent filled the place, is possible; perhaps,\nconsidering the variety of opinions among men, is not improbable. In\nthe case of Cardinal Antonelli, the matter is complicated, perhaps\nwe should say, simplified, by the fact that they would find very\nfew indeed to agree with them. But that a number of cardinals and\nmonsignori did really entertain such an opinion on the subject, and\ndid, in September, 1862, or thereabouts, combine in an effort to\noust Cardinal Antonelli, is vouched for, so far as we know, only by\nthe recollections of our writer. The plan itself was not dreamed of\nin well-informed circles in Rome, and the bold and adroit measures\nby which Cardinal Antonelli is said to have foiled it failed to\nattract attention at the time, or to leave any trace afterward,\neither in the diplomatic records of Rome, or in the memory of any one\nelse besides our writer. It is one other additional instance of the\nperversity of the world, which will not remember what he recalls so\ndistinctly.\n\nAs to Cardinal d'Andrea, he had been, since 1860, Cardinal-Bishop of\nSabina, and was also Prefect of the Congregation of the Index. His\nhealth had begun to fail some time before the date we are examining,\nand within a few months afterward he was forced, much to the regret\nof the pope, to resign the latter office, and to restrict himself to\nthe duties of his diocese and his private affairs, and could take\nbut a light share in the work of a cardinal. To make him at that\ntime a prime mover in the scheme, is as gratuitous as, under the\ncircumstances, it is absurd.\n\nThe statement of his political principles is equally in contradiction\nwith facts. Cardinal d'Andrea had all his life been a most strenuous\nand active supporter of the temporal power of the pope, and was not\na man to change his position and his principles at the close of his\nlife. He was as uncompromising, and a far more outspoken opponent of\nthe policy of Cavour, than even Cardinal Antonelli himself, who, as\nbefits his office and his character, never violates the reserved and\nstrictly temperate expressions allowed by diplomatic courtesy. All\nthat our writer \"remembers\" concerning Cardinal d'Andrea's connection\nwith and influence over the Roman committee, is a pure effort of\nhis memory, which, by the by, on this point has played him false.\nHe remembers, \"To his counsel it was due that no revolt occurred on\nthe withdrawal of the French.\" Why, the French troops were withdrawn\nfrom Rome in December, 1866, to be sent back in October, 1867, on the\noccasion of Garibaldi's attempted invasion of the Papal States. How\ncould Cardinal d'Andrea, who had died, as the secretary \"remembers,\"\nand whose funeral obsequies had been so pompously celebrated in\nthe cathedral church of San Giovanni di Laterano, on the 22d day of\nMarch, 1865, be alive to give counsel and use his influence with the\nMazzinians and the party of action a year and nine months afterward?\nHas the writer's own memory proved traitor to him, and joined the\ncrowd of contradictors?\n\nIn point of fact, Cardinal d'Andrea was not in Rome in December,\n1866, nor for months before and for months afterward. He was at\nNaples, or its neighborhood, seeking to restore his shattered and\nsinking health.\n\nOur secretary takes a second leap backward, and \"endeavors to give a\nslight sketch of the Cardinal d'Andrea, necessarily imperfect as pen\nand ink sketches always are.\" The incompleteness we might readily\nexcuse. But we cannot excuse its utter incorrectness in the details,\nan incorrectness so unnecessarily excessive that we can only explain\nit on the theory he is entirely guided by that wonderful memory, of\nthe powers of which we have had such evidences. Especially is this\nseen when, leaving generalities aside, the writer ventures to make a\nprecise and definite statement.\n\nThus, we are informed that, in his early life, the cardinal \"had been\nbred for the army, and served in the Noble Guard for three years.\"\nWhereas the cardinal was not born in Rome or the Roman States at all,\nand never had any connection whatever with the Noble Guard or any\nother military corps. He was born in Naples. His father, the Marquis\nGiovanni d'Andrea, was treasurer of the kingdom of Naples. His elder\nbrother, the present Marquis d'Andrea, is still living near Naples.\nJerome d'Andrea, the future cardinal, at an early age showed an\ninclination for the church, and in due time went through the ordinary\ncourse of ecclesiastical studies. At its conclusion, he came to\nRome, and entered the Accademia Ecclesiastica, a college for the\nhigher and more thorough education of such ecclesiastics as wish to\nenter the _carriera_, as it is called, that is, who aspire to become\necclesiastical officials at Rome. There was nothing military about\nthe cardinal. He simply had the dignified bearing and the polished\nmanners of an Italian nobleman.\n\n\"He viewed the Jesuits as the foes of reform; his scheme was to\ndestroy their influence in the public schools.\" \"The mendicant orders\nmet no favor with him.\" \"He did approve of the dissolution of _their_\nmonasteries.\" This posthumous revelation of the cardinal's sentiments\nwill undoubtedly astonish the Jesuits and the mendicant orders at\nRome, if they ever hear of it, unless indeed they are foolish enough\nto trust their own memory of the words and acts of the cardinal in\nlife, rather than the wonderful memory of this \"secretary.\" The\nJesuits will remember how often and regularly he would visit their\nfather-general, or Father Perrone, or the more illustrious and\nlearned members of their society; how fond he was of having some of\nthem to visit him frequently; how he would invite their counsel and\naid, and how he was careful to omit no proper occasion of publicly\nshowing his friendship and esteem for them. The members of the\nmendicant orders will call to mind their perpetual intercourse with\none who was always a kind father to them. As one of the cardinal's\nhousehold expressed it to us, _Era sempre attorniato da lore--He\nalways had these friars around him_. We fear that, with such\ncherished memories in their hearts, they will pay very little regard\nto the recollections of our \"secretary.\"\n\nBut he becomes more precise in the details of the cardinal's daily\nlife.\n\n\"The cardinal generally rose at six, and spent three hours in reading\nere he said mass and breakfasted. He then received, and at twelve\nrode out, except when his presence was required by the pope. The\nafternoon was spent in a siesta until six. At half-past nine he\nretired.\"\n\nWhat a sleepy-head this affectionate and reverential \"secretary\"\nwould make the cardinal to be. Retire at half-past nine, and rise\nat six. Here we have eight hours for a good night's sleep; ample\nallowance, one would think. But no. Each day, after his noon-day\ndrive, the afternoon until six is spent in a siesta; that is, at\nleast four hours more given to sleep--twelve hours, on an average,\nout of every twenty-four! And this was the ordinary course of things,\nonly interrupted when his presence was required by the pope! Was\nhe in any way related to Rip Van Winkle, or is it the secretary\nwho is dreaming? Certainly Cardinal d'Andrea bore all his life the\nreputation of being a remarkably wide-awake, clear-headed, and active\nbusiness man.\n\nWe presume that he usually rose about six--a little later in winter,\nsomewhat earlier in summer--such being the custom of Italians of\nhis standing. By half-past eight, mass and breakfast were over;\nfor business hours commence at nine, and the cardinal gave the\nforenoon to business, whether in the consistories or in the meetings\nof congregations or at his own residence, where secretaries,\ntheologians, and other officials, and all interested parties, would\nsee him. At half-past one, or at two, as business allowed, he dined.\nIn summer, he took a siesta for half an hour or so. An hour or more\nwas given to reciting his breviary and to private study. At four in\nwinter and five in summer, if the weather allowed, he would drive\nout, and when outside the city might indulge in half an hour's active\nwalk on foot. Re\u00ebntering his carriage, he reached home about sunset.\nUntil nine, he received those who called on him, whether on business\nor as friends. Then came his supper, after which he loved to spend an\nhour or two in lively conversation on the topics of the day with his\nmore intimate and esteemed friends. About eleven, he usually retired\nto rest; but, too frequently for his health, he would, if he had what\nhe deemed important business on hand, stay up until one or two in the\nmorning, studying or writing.\n\n\"In his meals he was sparing, attached to the French _cuisine_, and\ndrank the light native vintage of Monte Fiascone.... He never went\namong French society. He gave the French no countenance, regarding\nthem as witnesses of his country's serfdom.\"\n\nWhat the writer means by this last phrase, or how the English and\nGermans visiting Rome are not as truly witnesses to things there\nas the French can be, we do not understand, and shall not stop to\ninquire. The important statements are before us. The cardinal was\nattached to the French _cuisine_ and avoided French _society_. Now,\nthe truth was just the reverse on both these points. The cardinal was\nan excellent linguist and a well-read scholar. He delighted in the\ncompany of educated Frenchmen, ecclesiastics, laymen, and military,\nand was quite intimate with many of them. But as to his food, he\nremained a true Neapolitan to the day of his death, and stuck to\nmacaroni, vermicelli, and pollenta, as an Englishman sticks to his\nroast beef and good mutton.\n\n\"The Cardinal d'Andrea was fond of theatricals; indeed, private\nrepresentations were among the few enjoyments he had. He relished\nthem amazingly.\"\n\nWhen we repeated this statement to the member of the cardinal's\nhousehold to whom we are indebted for our information on the\npreceding points, he turned on us a look of bewildered astonishment\nwhich we shall not soon forget. \"_Poesie! poesie!_\" he exclaimed.\n\"_All an invention; all an invention._\"\n\nEven in his early life, when, as a layman, he could have frequented\nthe theatre without any breach of decorum, he had avoided it. As a\nclergyman, of course he could not go without losing caste. It might\nhave well happened that, in his travels in France, Switzerland,\nGermany, and various parts of Italy, he had at some time or other\nchanced to be a guest where courtesy called on him to be present at\nprivate theatricals held in the family. Of this our informant could\nnot speak, for he had not always been with him on these journeys.\nBut since he had been made cardinal he had been with him, and could\nnot recall a single instance where the cardinal had attended such a\nprivate representation. In his own palace he could not have had them.\nHis own character did not run in that line of amusement; and even if\nhe had desired it, the size and form of the apartments would have\nrendered them impossible.\n\nBut such effusions of our \"secretary's\" poetic or inventive memory\nare of themselves too slight and trivial to merit a place in _The\nGalaxy_. There must be something of graver import to come. And in\nfact these things have only been the preliminaries for the grand\nevents which are to be recorded of Cardinal d'Andrea; his escape\nfrom Rome by the active aid of this secretary; the espionage over\nhis words and acts when he returned--an espionage which this\nsecretary detected, though he could not foil it; the finding of the\ncardinal unexpectedly and mysteriously dead in his bed one morning;\nand finally, the saving of his important private papers, by this\nsecretary, from the clutches of Cardinal Antonelli--papers which he\nhas persistently guarded and still retains, and which hereafter, we\nmay be allowed to conjecture, can serve to refresh and stimulate his\nwondrous powers of memory, if any stimulation be needed.\n\nThe scene opens some time during the course of those two years, to\nthe beginning of which the first jump backward brought our writer.\nThe plan to oust Cardinal Antonelli from office had been formed, as\nwe were told, and failed; and Cardinal d'Andrea had lost somewhat\nof the pope's favor, and had incurred the bitter enmity of Cardinal\nAntonelli and of the Jesuits and ultramontanes. We may reasonably\nallow some months for so much. When time had brought things to this\npass, \"there was a party in the Piazza di Spagna, given by a Russian\nprincess, at which the _\u00e9lite_ of Roman society was assembled.\nAmong the guests was Cardinal d'Andrea. Madame C----, the wife of\nCaptain C----, of the French army, was, as usual, coquetting with the\nCardinal di C----a, a prince of the most ancient of Roman houses,\nwith one of the finest palaces in Rome.\" The secretary loiters to\ndescribe Captain C----, of the French army, and Madame C----, his\nyoung and handsome wife, and to tell his readers of her notorious\nintrigue with the above-named Cardinal Prince di C----a, of the\nancient family and with the fine palace. \"Four days after this\nparty, Captain C---- appeared at his wife's apartments. He was cool\nand deliberate. He upbraided her in unmeasured terms. She bitterly\nresented.... His rage became terrible. Ere she could utter a prayer\nor a cry, he seized the miserable woman and shot her; then shot\nhimself! The affair created some little sensation.\"\n\nWe should think it would, especially in peaceful, slow-going,\ndecorous Rome. Even in New-York, or in London, or in Paris, such a\ntragedy, in which persons of that social standing were concerned,\nwould have created quite a sensation.\n\nThe Prince di C----a, \"of one of the most ancient of Roman houses,\nwith one of the finest palaces in Rome,\" can of course be none other\nthan the Prince _Colonna_. The Roman princes are few in number, and\ncan easily be counted. No other has a surname to suit. The ancient\nfamily and the fine palace are earmarks also. He means _Colonna_. But\nthen, many, many years have passed since there was a cardinal of that\nfamily. In fact, take the list of cardinals since 1850, and the only\none whose name the designation C----a could fit is Cardinal Cuesta, a\nSpaniard, who at the date of this party, (somewhere, if we follow the\n\"secretary,\" in the winter of 1862-63,) was an aged septuagenarian\nbishop, zealously ruling his diocese in Spain; moreover, he was\nnot then a cardinal. He was made cardinal two years afterward.\nFurthermore, he resides not in Rome but in Spain, whence he was\nlately called to Rome for the present council. He obviously cannot be\nthe man. And so the Cardinal Prince di C----a vanishes into thin air,\nlike a poetic phantom, as he is.\n\nCaptain C----, of the French army, and his wife, Madame C----, seem\ndisposed to follow him into empty space. No French officer then in\nRome, and we have consulted several, can remember any French captain\nwho killed his wife and then committed suicide. The police never\ngot wind of the double tragedy. It escaped even the keen-scented\nnewspaper itemizers. The \"little sensation\" is a feat of memory.\n\nDecidedly our \"secretary\" is as unlucky at tragedies as he is at\nfunerals, even though he assures us \"the incidents of that reunion\nhave fixed themselves very much on my memory, for it was the last\ntime the Cardinal d'Andrea appeared at such assemblies.\" In fact, he\nproceeds to narrate how that very night, by his skilful planning, the\ncardinal was able to get out of Rome. This gives us, for the first\ntime, we may say, in this article, the slightest soundings of truth.\nCardinal d'Andrea did once leave Rome for Naples without the regular\npermission which was required for one in his position. We will speak\nfurther on of the motives and circumstances of that departure. Here\nwe will only state the fact, that he left Rome on the 16th of June,\n1864. The writer of this article was in Rome at the time, and, for\npeculiar reasons, no such tragedy as that \"remembered\" and the\nsensation it created could have escaped his knowledge. We may add\nthat in Rome such parties are given in winter and never in summer.\nThe strangers who visit Rome in winter, and leave after Easter, are\nin June in Switzerland or some other cool place. As for the _\u00e9lite_\nof Roman society, they are \"out of town.\"\n\nBut let us leave facts aside, and enter on that dream-land, the\nincidents of which are so firmly fixed on the memory of our\nsecretary. Hear him:\n\n\"The cardinal retired early, and, it being moonlight and very fine,\nresolved to send back the carriage and walk home. He walked in\ncompany with his secretary, a servant, as usual, attending at a\nlittle distance. He had passed into the Corso, when a man suddenly\nstarted out of the small and dark Via Fontanella di Borghese.... It\nwas a celebrated politician, who dared not have open intercourse\nwith any one for fear of compromising them, and he conveyed the\nunwelcome intelligence that the cardinal's life was in imminent\ndanger.... Every moment was of importance. A plan was speedily\ndevised. The Honorable Mr. K---- was leaving at two o'clock in his\nprivate carriage for Civita Vecchia, to catch the French steamer\ntouching at Civita Vecchia at half-past twelve next day, on her way\nto Naples.\" The secretary disguised himself, and stealthily sought\nan interview at once with this Englishman bearing an American title,\nand briefly \"told his errand.\" \"The generous Englishman proposed\nthat the cardinal should accompany him, disguised as a friend whose\nname appeared in his passport. The friend, on being consulted,\nagreed, and the secretary left, promising to be ready at a certain\nstreet with the cardinal, where the carriage was to take him up....\nHis eminence put on the beard and moustache our English friend had\ngiven us, and, with the aid of a large Inverness cape and white\nwide-awake, was splendidly disguised. It wanted two hours and a half\nof the time. The cardinal never lost his presence of mind, but was\ngloomy and foreboding. At last we called the valet, devoted to his\nmaster, and informed him of the plan. He was to pretend illness on\nthe part of the cardinal. He listened carefully to his instructions,\nand exclaimed, 'Eminence, your shoes and stockings!' We looked down,\nand saw that the patent-leather, low, clerical shoes with gold\nbuckles and the red silk stockings were very obvious betrayals of\nthe rank of the disguised. No lay shoes and stockings were at hand,\nuntil the valet bethought him of his own. Hastily effecting the\nchange, the cardinal passed out of the place alone, not suffering\nany one to accompany him.\" Whereby, we presume, he ran some risk of\nblundering as to the appointment, and moreover forced the zealous\nsecretary to break his promise of being \"ready at a certain street\nwith the cardinal, where the carriage was to take him up.\" \"The\nwhole of the next day passed heavily, but no inquiries were made for\nhis eminence. As his valet only waited on him, the other domestics\neasily believed that he was indisposed. Two days after, the secretary\nhastily scanned the _Giornale di Roma_, where he saw the departure of\nMr. K---- announced, and that of his friend. The valet, poor fellow,\nthough somewhat obese and awkward, executed an eccentric _pas seul_,\nin token of his satisfaction at the news, and then broke out into a\nfervent _Ave Maria_ for his master's safety. Four days elapsed, and a\nsummons came to attend the consistory. Then it was announced that the\ncardinal had left for Naples.\"\n\nNow, we confess to having enjoyed this passage of our \"secretary's\"\n_reminiscence_ more than any other. We think it his best effort.\nStill, it lacks some touches. He should not have omitted the matter\nof the exchange of the cardinal's knee-breeches for the valet's\npantaloons. For obviously, if the cardinal put on the lay shoes\nand stockings of the valet, and retained his own knee-breeches, a\nspace of ten inches at least on each leg would necessarily have been\nleft bare and uncovered. Such an arrangement, however conducive to\ncoolness, would have been a very remarkable feature of his costume,\nespecially noticeable in contrast with the large Inverness cape\nwhich warmly enveloped the upper part of his person, and that in the\nmonth of June. Such an outfit would certainly attract every eye.\nSurely the cardinal and the valet must have then and there exchanged\nthe knee-breeches of the one against the pantaloons of the other,\nregardless of how they fitted. Again, the \"secretary\" ought to have\ngiven us some inkling of how the valet felt and demeaned himself next\nmorning when he appeared before his fellow-servants rigged out in the\npatent-leather, low, clerical shoes with gold buckles, the red silk\nstockings, and the knee-breeches of his master, instead of his own\nproper habiliments. Could not our secretary have adorned the _Galaxy_\nwith some of the brilliant things then said and done?\n\nThe Honorable Mr. K----, too, acted very strangely. He might have\ntaken his rest like a sensible man that night, and have left Rome by\nthe accommodation train starting at six A.M. next morning, reaching\nCivita Vecchia at nine; or he might have waited for the express\ntrain, starting at ten A.M., reaching Civita Vecchia at twelve, and\nmaking connection with the steamers, whether bound to Naples or to\nLeghorn or to Marseilles. But no. He must lose his night's rest, and\nstart at two A.M. in a private carriage to travel fifty miles, and\nreach a French steamer touching at Civita Vecchia at half-past twelve.\n\nBut if our secretary, in his recollections, can spurn facts, it would\nbe superfluous to ask him to respect mere probabilities.\n\nThe real method of the cardinal's departure from Rome and his journey\nto Naples was the following very prosaic one:\n\nOn the 16th of June, 1864, he drove in his own carriage from his own\nresidence, the Palazzo Gabrielli, to the railway station in Rome,\nand took a ticket for Velletri, to which city he was accustomed to\ngo, from time to time, to attend to the interests of the estate\nGirgenti, of which the family had requested him to become the\nadministrator during the minority of the heirs. His valet alone\naccompanied him. The carriage was ordered to be at the station in\nthe afternoon, as he might come back by the returning train. At\nVelletri, the cardinal was met by his man of business in that city,\nwho had possibly made the necessary arrangements, and both proceeded\nin the same train to Isoletta, on the Neapolitan frontier. The\ncardinal continued on to Naples. The agent came back to Rome, found\nthe carriage at the station, rode in it to the Palazzo Gabrielli,\nand informed the cardinal's chancellor and the household that the\ncardinal had gone to Naples for his health, and was not able to say\nwhen he would return.\n\nThis is the plain, matter-of-fact occurrence which the secretary's\nmemory has changed into something like a chapter from one of Mrs.\nRadcliffe's novels sixty years ago.\n\nWe have already said that Cardinal d'Andrea took this step without\nthe permission which, according to the rules of the Sacred College,\nhe should have previously obtained. He had asked for that permission,\nand it had not been granted. When he publicly violated the rule on\nthis point, the Italian enemies of the temporal power of the pope\nhoped that they had unexpectedly found a cardinal in such a position\nthat they might, by degrees, make him their tool, and use him\nagainst Pius IX. Voices were heard hinting that it might be proper\neven to make him an anti-pope. The wiser ones among them saw from\nthe beginning how absurd such hopes and plans were; for they knew\nthe past history and the real character of the cardinal; and they\nrightly judged that whatever might be the motives of his present\nunexpected and most unusual proceeding, they must be personal. The\nstep could not spring from any policy opposed to that of the court of\nRome. They knew too well that he had always been a strenuous defender\nof the pope; they had often found him their active and energetic\nopponent. Later events proved to all that this judgment of theirs was\ncorrect.\n\nWe have spoken of the birth and early education of Girolamo d'Andrea,\nand his coming to Rome and entrance into the Accademia Ecclesiastica\nin that city. Soon after finishing his course of studies there with\nconsiderable reputation, he was made, in 1841, _ponente_, or judge,\nin an inferior ecclesiastical court, commencing thus his _carriera_\nat the bottom, but with distinction. He was afterward (1843) made\ndelegate, or governor, of the province of Viterbo; and three years\nlater went as nuncio or ambassador to Lucerne in Switzerland, which\noffice he filled at the time of the _Sonderbund_ war. Toward 1849, he\nreturned to Rome, and was elevated to the very responsible position\nof Secretary of the Congregation of the Council. When Pius IX.,\nafter the public assassination of his prime-minister, Rossi, and the\nthreats of violence to himself, escaped to Gaeta, Monsignor d'Andrea\nof course followed him. He was the prominent and most active man in\nre\u00ebstablishing the papal government in Umbria and the Marches and\nthe patrimony. After two years of successful labor, he returned to\nRome, to receive the thanks and the reward due to a delicate task\nzealously and satisfactorily accomplished. He was still Secretary\nof the Congregation of the Council, one of the highest posts he\ncould hold, without being cardinal. On the 15th of March, he was\nmade cardinal-priest, with the title of _Sant' Agnese fuori delle\nMura_. He had thus, in eleven years, reached the highest step of the\nRoman _carriera_. All acknowledged, even those whom he had passed,\nthat the cardinal's hat was, in this case, most fittingly bestowed\non learning, talents, experience, and as the well-deserved reward\nof zealous and efficient services. The new cardinal was soon named\nPrefect of the Congregation of the Index and Abbate Commendatario\nof Santa Scolastica, which last title he retained to his death.\nIn 1860, he became Cardinal-Bishop of Sabina; and, by the firm\nand wise administration of his diocese, was looked on as a model\nbishop. In 1862, his health began to fail. Slow fevers seemed to\nundermine his constitution, stronger in appearance than in reality.\nAt times a racking cough and a copious expectoration harassed him,\nand he seemed sinking into consumption. Rallying from this, he would\nsuffer excruciating pains in the intestines; and, at times, he was\nsubject to fainting fits. Still he struggled against all this, and\nkept on at his work. His friends noticed that he gradually became\nmore silent and despondent. They observed, too, another effect of\nthis long-continued indisposition. He became inclined to take up\nfixed ideas, and, perhaps, crotchets, and to adhere to them the more\ntenaciously if opposed. He evidently was not, at all times, the man\nhe had formerly been. Of course, it took time for all this to be\nsuspected and reluctantly admitted.\n\nIn the spring of 1864, the cardinal took up the idea that his health\nwould be restored if he went to Naples, his birth-place. He asked\npermission to do so.\n\nSpecial circumstances made the request one to be considered very\nmaturely. The government at Rome was in a critical and delicate\nposition, which required it to avoid most carefully any step capable\nof a doubtful interpretation, or liable to be made a pretext for\ncertain false charges then current against it. The ex-king of\nNaples was a refugee in Rome. Dethroned sovereigns generally seek\nand find an asylum there. His friends and adherents in Naples were\nbusy concerting measures to get him back on his throne. The Italian\ngovernment and the Italian papers charged the court with assenting\nto and aiding in these plans. Even France seemed to be growing cold,\nand to be manifesting those dispositions which, a few months after,\nculminated in the iniquitous convention with Victor Emmanuel for the\nwithdrawal of the French troops from the duty of protecting Rome.\nAll these things made the court of Rome trebly cautious to commit no\nmistake.\n\nIt was felt that for a Roman cardinal to go then to Naples, even\nunder the pretext of ill-health, more especially a cardinal like\nCardinal d'Andrea, whose family had been for several generations\nclosely connected with the dethroned royal family, and whose personal\nantecedents had been those we have recited, would be too dangerous.\nNo explanations, however sincere, no disavowals, however explicit,\ncould silence the charges or avert the troubles that might follow.\nHence the permission asked for was refused, the more readily as the\nidea was looked on as the cardinal's own fancy, and was not based\nupon the advice of physicians. The pope himself explained the matter\nto the cardinal, and offered him permission to go to Malta, to\nSpain, to Pau, in France, to Nice, in Savoy, or anywhere else that\nthe physicians would advise, or he desire. But to Naples, under the\ncircumstances, it would not do for him to go. The cardinal seemed to\nassent at the moment, and to acquiesce in the decision. But, some\ntime after, he returned to the fixed idea, repeated his request,\nwaited some weeks, and, not receiving any reply, started on the 16th\nof June, 1864, without permission, and, in the manner we have stated,\nwent to Naples. At first, he spent several months, perhaps a year,\nat Sorrento, well known to all who visit southern Italy for their\nhealth. After some time, he moved to the city of Naples itself, and\nlived there until his return to Rome.\n\nConcerning the cardinal's stay in Naples, our \"secretary\" remembers\nonly two points: \"He was located in ill-furnished lodgings on the\nChiaja, at Naples, sorely distressed for money. More than this, his\ngood name was suffering\"--suffering, he means, in the opinion of the\nMazzinians, the followers of the policy of Cavour and \"the party\nof action.\" The Roman Committee seems to have been particularly\nexercised in reference to him.\n\nNow as to the money matters. In Naples the cardinal kept a suite of\napartments in the H\u00f4tel Crocelles, one of the best in that city.\nMoreover, he also kept up his full establishment in the Palazzo\nGabrielli, in Rome. He paid every body and every thing punctually;\nas, indeed, he might well do, considering the position of his family\nand his own private resources. If his health failed, his purse did\nnot--which is more than can be said of most men, be they laymen,\necclesiastics, or even cardinals. When he died, his will gave\nlegacies to friends and servants, and to religious and charitable\npurposes, and returned something to his family.\n\nAs to the second point, undoubtedly the cardinal's good name did\nsuffer. The step he had taken was public; and the newspapers, after\ntheir style, had not failed to herald it over the world as something\nstriking and important, from which, perhaps, vast results would\nfollow. Catholics everywhere were pained that a cardinal should\ntake so false a step, and place himself in a position apparently so\nequivocal; perhaps, too, some apprehended ulterior and more painful\nresults. On the other hand, the Italianissimi waited, and cajoled\nhim, and hoped. But when he had been away from Rome more than two\nyears, and they found that they were not succeeding, as they desired,\nin making him their tool, they commenced to depreciate and ridicule\nhim. This last point we rather think to his credit.\n\nThe mode of Cardinal d'Andrea's departure from Rome naturally set all\nRome a-talking. His friends tried to explain and to excuse it in the\nmode we have stated. The excuse was probably felt to have some force.\nAnyhow, it was evident that the mode of his departure prevented the\ncourt of Rome from being compromised by his presence in Naples. Time\nand patience are held to be golden remedies at Rome. No official\nnotice was taken of Cardinal d'Andrea's absence. True, friends\nand counsellors and his brother cardinals wrote to him privately,\nremonstrating with him and urgently advising him to return without\ndelay. Had he listened to them, and returned within any reasonable\ntime, we are satisfied no notice would have been taken of the affair,\nand the whole matter would have dropped into oblivion.\n\nBut when he had been away two years, it was felt that some official\nsteps must be taken. Accordingly, the cardinal dean wrote him\nofficially, rehearsing the law of the church about the residence of\nbishops, warning him that he had now been too long absent without\npermission, and inviting him to return. Thrice the monition was\ngiven, as required, and given without effect. The diocese of Sabina\nwas consequently withdrawn from his charges and confided to an\nadministrator _ad interim_, until other provisions should be made\nin regard to it. Still the cardinal declined or delayed to come.\nOther official letters warned him of possible further consequences,\neven to ejectment from his dignity as cardinal. His friends, also,\nrenewed their private remonstrances and entreaties more urgently than\never. And, finally, on the evening of December 14th, 1867, Cardinal\nd'Andrea returned to Rome.\n\nThree days later, he had an audience of the holy father, from which\nhe returned to his palace in a very cheerful mood, and spoke to his\nattendants of the kindness of the pope, and declared that every thing\nhad passed off most satisfactorily.\n\nHis long stay in Naples had not benefited his health. He still\ncoughed, and still, at times, had severe crises of pain in the\nabdomen. But he was able in some measure to take up the ordinary work\nof a cardinal. The charge of the diocese was not restored to him;\ntime was required for that. Rome is slow to act, and slow to undo\nwhat has been legally done.\n\nAfter having fatigued our readers by this long stretch over humdrum\nrealities, it may be well to seek a little relief in some more of the\nwondrous feats of the wondrous memory of \"the secretary of the late\nCardinal d'Andrea.\"\n\nHe does not remember that audience at all. Nay, he remembers that\nthere was none. \"Daily,\" after his return, the cardinal \"expected a\nsummons to the presence of the pope. Then he resolved to assert his\nright to an audience, and repaired to the Vatican. He was informed\nthat all his communications to the pope were to pass through the\nhands of the cardinal secretary. To sue to his worst foe--this was\nthe climax of bitterness. The high spirit of his eminence never\nrecovered this indignity. The holy father was all this time informed\nthat the cardinal had returned; but was recusant, and refused all\novertures of reconciliation. After his last repulse, the cardinal\nmade no further efforts; but it was easy to see that he suffered\nacutely.\"\n\nAll bosh! The \"secretary\" might have ascertained that the papers\nof the day announced the return of the cardinal to Rome and his\naudience; for the cardinal was then a notoriety. But he is strong\non his powers of memory; or, perhaps, as he had killed the cardinal\nand buried him, as we saw, two years and nine months before this--in\nMarch, 1865--he now ran his eye over a file previous to that date;\nand, as the papers were published while the cardinal was at Sorrento,\nthere was no mention then of an audience. But we are loth to believe\nthe \"secretary\" has even that little regard for what others remember\nwhich would make him think it at all necessary to look even at a file\nof newspapers either for dates or facts.\n\nBut he gives us, in lieu, an exquisite production of his own memory.\n\n\"The cardinal's enemies,\" he tells us, \"were far too wary to resort\nto open acts.\" They remained so quiet that all suspicion was\nlulled to rest, except in the cardinal and his secretary. \"It is\nremarkable that we sometimes find an idea dart suddenly into the mind\nwithout cause or ramification.\"(!!) ... This was the case with the\nsecretary, probably also with the cardinal. The idea took this shape:\n\"The favorite mode of obtaining secret information in Rome is by\neaves-dropping and espionage. This palace has been for two months at\nthe bidding of those who knew the cardinal would return to it. They\nare anxious to know all he says and does; if possible, all he thinks.\nThey will study the revelations of his countenance in moments of\n_abandon_. And if they have designs\"--here the idea seemed going into\nextravagance. We decidedly agree with him; we even think the idea\nshows signs of _ramification_.\n\nOne _pi\u00e8ce_ of the cardinal's apartments was a breakfast-room, in\nwhich there hung a picture of St. Francis meditating. \"I was reading\nin that room; and the twilight had deepened as I sat thinking over\nmy book. As I looked up, by the faint red glow of the wood-fire,\nI fancied that picture--a St. Francis meditating--had a peculiar\nexpression about the eyes. The rapt saint looks upward, ignoring\nmundane vanities; this looked downward and steadily at me. I felt\ninclined to cut it open; but dared not. After all, I imagined the\ngloom had deceived me.\"\n\nAgain, two days later, \"I was sitting at breakfast with the cardinal,\nwhen he dropped his cup of chocolate, and, rising, went to the\npicture, and carefully examined it.... We looked at each other; and\nI felt the same idea pass through his mind.... I resolved to make\nhim understand that I followed his thoughts. 'Do you think,' said\nI, 'that St. Francis in his meditations became sometimes a little\n_distrait_? that his eyes wandered from heaven, for example, to some\nworldly object, say, as to the quality of your eminence's breakfast,\nor became suddenly diverted by our conversation.' He looked steadily\nat me, then at the picture, which faced him as he sat, but was behind\nme. Then, after a moment, replied, 'It is a fatality.' I saw no more\nof him that day. I heard from the valet that he was anxious not to be\ndisturbed.\"\n\nHere we have espionage of the most wonderful kind caught _in\nflagranti delicto_. Is not the \"secretary\" afraid he has imparted\na new and important lesson to the burglars of New York? Just think\nof the details! During the cardinal's absence, his enemies enter\nhis apartments in the Palazzo Gabrielli freely, notwithstanding the\nestablishment is kept up, and all the servants are there save the\nvalet, who is away with his master. No eye sees them, no ear hears\ntheir stealthy footsteps nor any noise they make. No trace of their\nwork is discovered. They go everywhere, they examine every thing, and\nmake their preparations. What they did elsewhere we are not told.\nBut they paid special attention to this breakfast-room, because the\npicture hung there. If the wall behind it were of thick masonry,\nthey must have cut in it a niche deep enough and big enough to\nhold a man. That they should do this in an inhabited house without\nany one finding it out, is proof of their ability. But what if, as\nis most likely, the painting hung on a partition wall only six or\neight inches thick, where could the man stand? What did they do\nin that case? We cannot imagine. We think the burglars would be\nnonplussed, and would turn for further instruction to the memory\nof our \"secretary.\" Beyond this, they provided themselves with\nmeans of entrance and passage from room to room, and of exit, quite\nirrespective of ordinary doors and public stairways.\n\nThe cardinal returns to his palace, and these means are put in use.\nOne spy, entering when or how no one knows, and mounting to his place\nin an equally mysterious manner, stands behind the picture of St.\nFrancis meditating, which hangs on the wall of the breakfast-room.\nThe canvas eyes of the picture have, of course, been cut out; and\nthe spy fixes his own living eyes in their place, so that he can\nsee all that is to be seen, as well as hear all that is to be heard.\nOrdinarily, we suppose, the eyes are kept turned toward heaven,\nignoring mundane vanities, because such was the original position\nof the painted eyes in the picture. But fatigue and duty combined,\nfrom time to time, to call for a change of their position. The eyes\nlooked down on the breakfast-table, (perhaps longingly; for even\nspies behind pictures may get hungry,) or gleamed with intelligence\nin response to witticisms of conversation, or unguarded and important\nrevelations. Yet all was so artistically and naturally done that\nthe secretary one day imagined the gloom had deceived him; and\ntwo days afterward, the cardinal, after a careful examination and\nafter looking at it a second time attentively, exclaimed, \"It is a\nfatality!\"\n\nNow, there is a mystery about this espionage which quite puzzles\nus, and which we should like to see explained. While the spy held\nhis eyes thus glued to or inserted in the painting, where were his\neyebrows? And what did he do with his nose?--his big Roman nose. For\nwho can conceive a keen Roman spy without a large and penetrating\nRoman nose? How did he manage to keep that nose from coming in\ncontact with the painted canvas--from pressing against it and causing\na very prominent bulge, and even pushing the canvas away from the\neyes? This is a point that merits elucidation.\n\nUnfortunately the cardinal, it seems, at once left the room in which\nthe \"fatality\" was, shut himself up, and would see no one. The\n\"secretary\" was as wanting in pluck on that occasion as he had been\non another two days before. He felt inclined to cut the painting open\nto see what it was; but dared not. If he had had the presence of mind\nof a little boy ten years old, he would have ventured to draw the\nbottom of the painting a few inches out from the wall, and would have\nlooked behind to discover the secret. Had he done so, our mystery\nwould doubtless have been solved, and a very interesting question\nwould have been answered. What a pity the idea did not assume this\npractical \"ramification\"!\n\nIn regard to the death of the cardinal the memory of the \"secretary\"\nis brief, but terribly explicit and pointed.\n\n\"Four days\" after the fatality-scene, \"I was informed that\nthe cardinal desired me to spend the evening in his private\napartments.... We had dined at five\"--a change of hour; it used\nto be six. \"His eminence had confined himself to his favorite and\ninsipid Chablis, of which he drank one little flask,\" (Monte Fiascone\nhas slipped from the secretary's memory;) \"I to a more generous\nvintage of Burgundy. The subject of our conversation was exceedingly\nimportant. With the idea upon us like an incubus, we conversed in low\ntones; and ever and anon the cardinal rose and examined the outer\ndoor.... The conversation ended by my being intrusted with certain\ndocuments to place in safe keeping.... Knowing the importance of\nthe documents, I hesitated to keep them in my possession. Sealing\nthem in a packet, I put on a street dress and hastened to an English\ngentleman, who cheerfully undertook their keeping.... Cardinal\nAntonelli asked me for the papers I had received on that fatal\nnight.... I rejoice to say--though strenuous exertions were made to\nobtain the papers--they were as persistently guarded; and I have them\nnow.\"\n\nPretty well remembered for these papers. But how about the cardinal?\n\nThe secretary says that, on the morning after confiding the\naforesaid sealed packet to the English gentleman, \"I rose early and\nrepaired to the palace. The valet had orders to wake his master\nat seven. It wanted but a few minutes. I retired to my own room.\nScarcely a quarter of an hour had elapsed ere the valet rushed in,\npale with affright, exclaiming, 'His eminence is dead!' I followed\nhim quickly to the apartment, having alarmed the household. The\ndisposition of the chamber was as ordinary. The cardinal's dress lay\non a chair, as the valet had placed it. His breviary was open at\nvespers. The bed was the only thing disturbed. There were certain\nindications of a struggle, although very slight. The usually placid\ncountenance of the cardinal was flushed and discolored. The two\nhands grasped the bed-clothes convulsively. A physician was hastily\nsummoned, who pronounced life to have been extinct some hours.\n'From what cause?' I asked. He whispered, 'They will probably say\napoplexy.' For himself, the secretary has no doubt it was a murder\nperpetrated by the enemies of Cardinal d'Andrea.\"\n\nThese are the recollections of the _soi-disant_ secretary. They are\nwell entitled in the whole and in the several details to stand with\nhis precise recollections of the place and date of the funeral that\nfollowed in San Giovanni in Laterano, on the 22d day of March, 1865.\n\nThe papers announced that Cardinal d'Andrea died in Rome, on the 14th\nof May, 1868. For the details of his last hours, we are indebted\nto those members of his household who were with him and closed his\neyes. It will be seen how different is the account they give from\nthat of the writer who, if elsewhere he amused us, here fills us with\nastonishment at the boldness of his assertions, and sorrow for his\nmotives.\n\nOn Thursday, May 14th, 1868, the cardinal, who had spent the forenoon\nin his usual occupations, dined in his usual health, or ill-health,\nat half-past one. After dinner he continued to transact business with\nhis chancellor for a while, and then arranged to resume it on his\nreturn from the usual afternoon drive. He drove out from the Palazzo\nGabrielli at about half-past four. His coachman drove, at the usual\nstaid gait of a cardinal's carriage, by the Foro Trajano, on by the\nColosseo and San Clemente, to St. John Lateran's, and out of the city\ngate near that church, along the Via Appia Nuova. When he had passed\nthe first mile-stone from the gate, he was surprised by an order to\nreturn. He noticed that the cardinal, who was alone in the carriage,\nseemed to be suffering. He accordingly turned and retraced his steps\nat the same gentle gait. On the square of St. John's, he received a\nsecond order to go faster; and awhile after, before he reached the\nColosseo, the cardinal ordered him to hurry. A fast trot brought them\nto the Palazzo Gabrielli by about half-past five. The chancellor was\nthere, and assisted the servants to take the cardinal out of the\ncarriage, and to assist him up to his chamber. He was suffering very\nmuch from a difficulty of breathing, and seemed otherwise in pain.\nIt was a crisis such as he had had before, but it seemed more severe\nthan usual. The cardinal sent word to the chancellor not to leave. He\nexpected the spasm to pass away in a little while, and when it would\nbe over, they might resume their work as arranged.\n\nThe chancellor waited until near seven, when, learning that the\nattack still continued, he entered the sickroom. He was not only the\nofficial, but a devoted and confidential intimate friend of nearly\ntwenty years' standing. He found the cardinal suffering to a degree\nthat filled him with alarm. A physician was sent for, but was absent\nfrom his residence. An assistant came and prescribed some remedies.\nBy eight, the physician arrived, and took charge of the case, and did\nnot leave the patient. About nine, he was asked if it were proper\nto administer the sacrament of extreme unction. He replied that, so\nfar, he did not see sufficient danger to warrant it. Meanwhile the\ncardinal lay on his bed tossing restlessly in pain, and panting for\nbreath, but joining in, as best he could, with the prayers for the\nsick, which had been begun, at his request, by his chaplain and the\nattendants between seven and eight o'clock. At ten, he asked to be\nplaced in a large chair in his room. They bolstered him up in it. In\nhalf an hour he began to sink. The chaplain hastily administered the\nrites of the church, and by eleven, Cardinal d'Andrea was no more.\n\nThus, as is not unfrequently the case, death came somewhat suddenly\nand unexpectedly, even after years of ill-health.\n\nAn autopsy took place, as is customary, we believe, in Rome in the\ncase of cardinals. It appeared that the immediate cause of his death\nwas congestion of the lungs. The right lung was found to be nearly\ndestroyed by tubercles. On one side of the brain a clot or indurated\nportion, seemingly of long standing, was discovered. In this lesion\nsome of the cardinal's friends thought they found a physical cause of\nthose disordered peculiarities of mind of which we spoke as having\nbeen manifested in his later years.\n\nWe may add that, after the official autopsy, the body lay in state\nin the Palazzo Gabrielli until Monday, May 18th. On the evening of\nthat day, it was conveyed in procession to the neighboring parish\nchurch of St. John of the Florentines, near the Castel Sant' Angelo.\nIn that church, on Tuesday, 19th May, 1868, the funeral obsequies\nof Cardinal d'Andrea were celebrated, the pope and the cardinals\nassisting, as required by the etiquette of the court when a cardinal\ndies in Rome.\n\nBy the cardinal's own directions, his mortal remains were interred at\nthe church of Sant' Agnese fuori delle Mura, of which, as we said, he\nhad been titular cardinal before becoming Bishop of Sabina.\n\nWe have thus followed this _soi-disant_ secretary of the late\nCardinal d'Andrea all through his article. We have overlooked, for\nbrevity's sake, many minor points. But we have seen fully enough to\nestablish the character of the article. We have seen that he blunders\nas to the date of the cardinal's funeral by three years and two\nmonths. He has blundered as to the church where it was performed by\nat least a mile and a half. San Giovanni in Laterano and St. John of\nthe Florentines are unlike in shape and in rank, and are nearly at\nopposite points of the city.\n\nAs to the private habits, the acts, and the opinions of the cardinal,\nhe makes a series of blunders such as we might well look for in one\nwho gives himself out as having been the confidential secretary of\nthe late Cardinal d'Andrea, and yet whom no one remembers to have\never had any connection with the cardinal.\n\nAs to the charges of enmity, of espionage, and even of murder, and\nthe tragedy of the French captain, and various other remarks and\ncomments _en passant_ throughout the article, by no means to the\nhonor of the ecclesiastical dignitaries at Rome, and of the tone\nand character of society there--are these things only spice to give\na certain piquancy to the article? or is the whole article written\nmerely as a vehicle to convey these charges to the attention of the\nreaders?\n\nWe incline to the latter opinion. We are led to it by the clearer\nand more undisguised tenor of later articles by the same pen in the\n_Galaxy_. We may, hereafter, if we find time, pay our respects to one\nor more of those articles.\n\nFor the present, we will only say that if the proprietors of the\n_Galaxy_ have intended to bargain with a writer of fiction, they\nare getting the worth of their money in matter and quantity, if not\nin quality and style. If, however, they expected to secure a series\nof articles instructive because truthful, the case is decidedly the\nreverse.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[174] The _Galaxy_. December, 1869, to June, 1870.\n\n\n\n\nHYMN OF ST. PAUL'S \"CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE SOCIETY.\"\n\n\n    Not ours to ask thee, \"What is truth?\"\n      For here it shines the light of light;\n    And all may see it, age or youth,\n      Who will but leave the outer night.\n    'Tis ours to tread, not seek, the way\n    That \"brightens to the perfect day.\"\n\n    But this we ask thee, dearest Lord--\n      Let faith, so precious, feed and grow;\n    And make our lives the more accord\n      With fear and love, the more we know.\n    For thus, too, shall we point the way\n    That \"brightens to the perfect day.\"\n\n    Nor have we learnt it save to teach;\n      It is for others we are wise.\n    The humblest has a charge to preach\n      Thy kingdom in a nation's eyes:\n    A nation groping for the way\n    That \"brightens to the perfect day.\"\n\n    O thou, our patron, great St. Paul!\n      Apostle of the West, to thee\n    We boldly come and fondly call,\n      As children at a father's knee:\n    Come thou, and with us lead the way\n    That \"brightens to the perfect day\"!\n\n                                                    B. D. H.\n\n\n\n\nLOTHAIR.[175]\n\n\nLothair is both a novel and a pamphlet. Two distinct currents of\nthought are apparent, running through the work, variously intertwined\nand blended, but from time to time asserting definite individuality.\nThis phenomenon is explained by the two-fold character of the writer,\nwho is a novelist and man of letters, and at the same time a man\nof the world and a statesman. The novel is written apparently to\nreassert his powers and demonstrate to the literary world that his\ngenius is undimmed by age, perhaps also to indulge the exercise of\na favorite and successful art, by which he has raised himself from\nan obscure position to one of influence and renown. The pamphlet is\nevidently intended for political effect; to throw discredit upon\neminent persons, to disparage the value of conversions among the\nhigher classes of society, and, through the thin veil of fiction,\ninflict all the damage possible upon the court of Rome and the Roman\nCatholic Church. It reveals the political character of its writer,\nhis utter want of principle and consistency, and enables us to\ncomprehend how he has overcome all the obstacles to his career, by\ngreat industry, acute intelligence, and absolute unscrupulousness\nin turning men and women, things and events, to his own personal\nadvantage. As a novel it adds nothing to the established reputation\nof the author. It is rated at a high figure, commercially speaking,\nand will no doubt be a remunerative investment for its publishers.\n\nIt purports to be a picture of the habits, manners, and mode of life\nof people of the highest rank in England, with sketches of persons\nof diverse culture and foreign birth, to heighten the contrasts\nand bring out the lights and deepen the shadows. Natural scenery,\nstately dwellings, ancient trees, sunlight, flowers, music, and\nfresh air give life and animation to the varying scenes, and form\nthe appropriate basis, background, and accompaniment for the living\npanorama. Lothair is a youth of pure blood and fair education, the\nheir of immense estates and a lofty title. He is good-looking,\nathletic, kind-hearted, shy, sensitive, and sentimental.\n\nHe has suffered the depression and discouragement of a sour\nPresbyterian system of education, from which he was happily rescued\nby the honest and determined efforts of one of his guardians,\nCardinal Grandison.\n\nHe emerges just before he comes of age, and appears before us in the\nmidst of an elegant family, in which, fortunately, all the daughters\nare married excepting one, who has great beauty and a remarkably fine\nvoice. He immediately, as in duty bound, falls desperately in love,\nand in the most honorable manner possible confides the state of his\nfeelings to the mother of the object of his affections, who is, by\nthe way, a fine specimen of a thorough-bred English lady.\n\nThe mother wisely and tenderly counsels delay, and we would recommend\nher conduct in this interesting occasion to all the middle-aged\nladies of our acquaintance when placed in a similar situation.\nLothair accepts her decision, and in the mean time becomes more and\nmore intimate with the cardinal, and forms the acquaintance of a\nCatholic family distantly connected, and becomes somewhat smitten\nwith the real heroine of the tale, Clare Arundel. The objective\npoint of the story now develops itself. A struggle for the rich and\ntitled youth commences between the English Establishment and the\nChurch. Political and mercenary motives are, with great impartiality,\nascribed to both the contending powers. The combat between the\nrough and honest Scotch Presbyterian uncle and the accomplished and\nfascinating cardinal is wisely dropped.\n\nNo imagination could suggest the thought that one who had escaped\nfrom evangelicalism could ever return to it. It is, in the author's\nmind, simply a political squabble for the influence and vote of the\nfuture peer. His soul is of no account.\n\nThe conduct and development of this contest gives the right honorable\nromancer an opportunity to introduce the lords and ladies, the dukes\nand bishops, cardinals and monsignori, artists, wits, and men about\ntown, with whom he delights to fill his pages. They all speak in\ncharacter, and in the main with artistic consistency, and their\nconversation is certainly sprightly, often witty, sometimes wise, and\nnever offensive on the score of taste and morality. It affords him\nthe opportunity to flatter and praise, and at the same time exhibit a\npower of sarcasm and ridicule, the effective methods of his earlier\nwritings, by which he climbed to his present position. He exhibits\ntalents and a knowledge of life which would have made him equally\nsuccessful in the role of banker, picture-merchant, diamond-broker,\nor even old clo'man. He gloats over the splendors which he describes;\nand beauty, rank, fashion, fine clothes, crystal, porcelain,\npictures, jewels, \"ropes of pearls,\" castles, palaces, parks,\nand gardens, are dwelt upon with the cherishing fondness of the\ngentlemen of keen eyes, hooked noses, and unctuous touch. Character,\nconduct, motives, principles, sentiments, affections, passions, and\nreligion are mingled in admirable confusion, are estimated at the\nsame value and weighed in the same balance.\n\nThere is for him as novelist or pamphleteer no principle but\nexpediency, no rule of conduct but temporal advantage. He worships a\ngolden calf. These be thy gods, O Israel! At a critical period, while\nour hero is wavering between his Anglican and Catholic mistress, and\nthe cardinal is striving to acquire a wholesome influence over his\nsomewhat unstable relative, while he is sailing on the summer sea of\nhigh life and elegant society, he goes to _Oxford to see his horses_.\nHe has wisely left those useful animals at the university, while he\nis pursuing his studies of life and manners in London. At Oxford,\nhe meets Colonel and Mrs. Campian, and is taken completely off his\nfeet. Presbyterianism, Anglicanism, Corisande and Clare Arundel, the\nEstablishment, and Catholicity disappear at once, and Madre Natura in\nthe splendid physique of the divine Theodora, claims an unresisting\ncaptive and victim.\n\nThis is either an inspiration of a romancer's imagination or a study.\nIf the latter, there is no hope for the right honorable author's\nsalvation on the score of invincible ignorance.\n\nLothair basks in the splendor of Theodora's beauty, and surrenders\nhis reason to the fascination of her false political principles. The\nlower or transient good is preferred to the higher, the permanent\ngood. He chooses the lower, as did Lucifer and Adam, Judas and\nLuther, and multitudes have done and are doing. Naturally and\nartistically there is no way out of this scrape excepting through a\ncatastrophe; religiously, excepting through penance. Theodora is\nthe ideal of Greco-Roman heathenism, and the artist Ph\u0153bus is its\nhigh-priest. They are fine creations from an artistic point of view.\n\nThey enable the author to introduce some clever writing about\nart, and some speculations regarding the Aryan and Semitic races,\nevidently with the intention of associating revealed religion with\nthe idea of superstition. The effect left upon the mind is something\nlike that produced by a certain class of sermons which we read on\nMonday morning in the New-York _Herald_. The novelist is hurried on\nat this stage by the necessities of the pamphleteer. Political events\nsucceed each other so rapidly that he was obliged to send Lothair\nas rapidly as possible to the field of battle (his heathen destiny)\nagainst the church.\n\nWith exceeding facility the money which was going to build a\ncathedral, to please a pious girl, is diverted to aid in blowing up\nSt. Peter's, and Lothair finds himself as Captain Muriel, in the\nfield, on the staff of one of his former acquaintances, Captain\nBruges, the red republican general advancing against Rome. Theodora\nand Colonel Campian are also with him, the former disguised in male\napparel, and acting as secretary to the general. We suppose her\nprayer uttered under the depressing intelligence of the embarkation\nof the French troops to assist the holy father, is an expression\nof the religion of nature. Why she should pray to God instead of\nJupiter, we confess we do not see, unless in deference to the\nopinion of most of the author's readers. He might have fulfilled all\nthe indications by quoting Pope, and at the same time complimented\nthe memory of a poet who is getting rather out of date.\n\nHowever, she hears the French have disembarked, and accordingly\nsuspends her prayers and recovers her spirits. The impending\ncatastrophe comes. The tragic is accomplished, and the divine\nTheodora is slain. Madre Natura and the secret societies are hurled\nagainst the rock of Peter, and shivered. Theodora is mortally\nwounded, and dying, impresses a chaste kiss upon the lips of Lothair,\nand exacts the promise never to conform to the Church of Rome.\n\nThe next step finds him severely wounded by a French _chassepot_, the\nguest of Lord St. Jerome in his palace in Rome, carefully attended by\nSisters of Charity and Clare Arundel. Nature has perished and grace\ntriumphs. The venom of the anti-Catholic novelist and the malice of\nthe statesman of the establishment are now revealed in a popish plot,\nwhich is supposed to be hatched by Lothair's Roman Catholic friends,\nthe prelates of Rome, and, by implication, the holy father.\n\nThe object of the conspiracy is to impose upon Lothair and the world\nthat he was wounded while fighting for the defence of the holy see,\ninstead of in the ranks of its determined enemies, and to convince\nhim that the Blessed Virgin Mary personally appeared to rescue him\nfrom inevitable death. These pages enhance the claims of the work\nas one of fiction, but detract very much from its reputation as a\nspecimen of art. The plan is thoroughly un-English, and incompatible\nwith the characters of the actors as previously portrayed. It is by\nno means impossible for the Blessed Virgin or any saint or angel to\nappear, and we should be bound to believe the fact if vouched for on\ncredible testimony.\n\nIt is, however, naturally, politically, and religiously impossible\nfor priests, bishops, and prelates to combine to make any human\nbeing believe a lie, or to palm off a false miracle for any purpose\nwhatsoever. We are charitably left in doubt as to who believed or\nwho did not believe in the apparition, but we are treated to a\nconversation in which Cardinal Grandison endeavors to make Lothair\nbelieve a lie, and to abuse the enfeebled condition of his brain to\nreduce him to a condition of mental and moral imbecility.\n\nMr. Disraeli evidently expects no advantages from Catholic voters,\nor, perhaps, counts on the charity which he abuses.\n\nThese passages are the only dangerous ones in the book; they are\nskilfully contrived to crystallize wavering minds, especially of\nyoung men of high rank, into determined opposition to the holy\nsee. They are intended to awaken sympathy for Lothair's helpless\nand almost hopeless captivity, and to call forth sentiments of\nsatisfaction and pleasure at his adventurous escape. He does escape,\nand falls into the arms of high-priest Ph\u0153bus and two inferior\ndivinities of Madre Natura. They have little power, however, the\ndivine Theodora being dead; and our hero, growing _blas\u00e9_ if not\nwiser and better, subsides into an \u00e6sthetical but harmless admiration\nof external nature and Euphrosyne. Previously to his quitting Rome,\nthe author invents a scene which is either a sop to spiritism, or an\ninsult to his readers' intelligence.\n\nThe appearance of the Blessed Virgin, under any circumstances, is\ntreated with derision; but Theodora, like the Witch of Endor, is\nsummoned to interview Lothair in the Coliseum, and remind him of\nhis fatal promise. Perhaps he only means to illustrate a phenomenon\nof an over-excited brain, whose circulation is enfeebled by a long\nillness and a severe wound. We are left purposely in doubt on this\npoint, as on many others. This portion of the book contains vivid\nand beautiful sketches of camp-life and fighting on a small scale,\nof Rome and Italy, the Tyrrhenean Sea and classic isles. Under\nthe auspices of the Ph\u0153bus and Euphrosyne, he is wafted in the\nyacht Pan to Syria and the Holy Land, and sinks into a pleasing and\nself-satisfied reverie on Mount Olivet.\n\nThe descriptions of Judea and Jerusalem, Calvary and Sion, Galilee\nand Jordan, Lebanon and Bashan, could be penned only by one who has\nthe traditions of the Jew, the Roman, and the Christian. There is\nthe mournful regret of the Jew, the proud remembrance of the Roman,\nand the weak and sickly sentimentality of a very doubtful sort of\nChristian. They want depth and pathos, and leave the mind disturbed\nand dissatisfied. They profane rather than hallow those sacred places\nwhich inspire terror or love in every human breast.\n\nThe habits of his English friends whom he meets in the Holy Land,\nwho made excursions which they called pilgrimages, and feasted,\nmade love, and hunted, express about the degree of sympathy which\nfashionable High-Church Anglicanism has with Calvary. The noble and\ngentle Syrian now appears to put the finishing touch to Lothair's\nreligious experiences. He is a new figure in fiction, a specimen of\noriental Turveydrop, and the patriarch of a new school of Israelitish\nevangelicalism. In the absence of authentic data, we should presume\nhe had descended from a highly respectable family of Pharisees,\nwhich had, in process of time, intermarried with the Sadducees, and\nperhaps suffered some slight admixture with the heathen round about.\nHe happily succeeds in removing all distinct and vivid religious\nimpressions from the mind of Lothair, and prepares the way, after a\nfinal interview with his former Mazzinian general, who speaks in a\ncheerful and airy manner of his failure to blow up St. Peter's, and\nconsoles Catholic readers with the assurance that the old imposture\nis still firmly seated, for his return to England, the arms of Lady\nCorisande, and the bosom of the church by law established. Here we\nleave him married to an heiress and laid up in lavender, to grow old,\nfat, and gouty.\n\nWhile we may speak with some degree of complaisance of this novel\nas a work of art merely, and a picture of life and manners, in\nwhich it is far inferior to similar novels of Bulwer and several\nother contemporary writers of fiction, we are compelled to discuss\nthis production in its political and moral significance in a very\ndifferent spirit. Mr. Disraeli must have some powerful motive to\ninduce him to attack the church and outrage the feelings of Catholics\nthroughout the world while he himself has no settled and strong\nreligious convictions of any kind. That motive must be the only\none which would operate upon a mind like his--the desire to get\nback to power. He starts the \"No-popery\" hue and cry, and invents\na most contemptible, shallow, and flimsy plot to influence what\nhe supposes to be the radical hostility of the English people to\nthe Church of Rome, and to throw contempt and discredit upon the\nconversion of Englishmen of rank, and especially that of the Marquis\nof Bute. We think he has not only committed a moral crime, but made\na gross political blunder. We believe there is a profound sympathy\nthroughout the world in the hearts of simply honest and good people\nwith the holy father, and that if the question could be tested by\nvote to-day, Who is the best man living? Pius IX. would receive an\noverwhelming majority. While denouncing in the strongest terms the\nbaseness of the attempt to impute fraud, chicanery, and political\ntrickery to the policy and plans of the church, we have reason to\nthank the right honorable and learned author for the revelation he\nhas made of the secret societies. He has had ample means of learning\nand understanding their operations, and his implied conclusion is,\nthat the two great forces arrayed against each other in the modern\nworld are the Roman Catholic Church and the secret societies, of\nwhom Masonry is the mother. This is a conclusion which we accept. It\nis the everlasting antagonism between the church of Christ and the\nchurch of the devil. We hope the glimpse thus afforded will cause\nsome of our clergy to reconsider the lenient opinions they sometimes\nexpress in regard to Masonry and its offshoots, and to recognize the\nsupernatural wisdom that has directed the unwavering opposition which\nthe church has manifested toward these works of darkness. As a whole,\nwe do not think _Lothair_ will do much harm. It will provoke much\nconversation and discussion. It will be praised, ridiculed, admired,\nand contemned, and speedily sink into oblivion, to be read only by\nstudents of literature and those who seek for the light that works of\nfiction throw upon contemporary history. It reminds us of something\nwhich occurred a long time ago, and which cannot be offensive to\nthe right honorable gentleman, who finds a pleasure in insulting\ncardinals and bishops, inasmuch as the chief personages in the\ntransaction are prototypes of himself and his book. It is the story\nof Balaam and Balaam's ass. He has attempted to curse, and in fact he\nhas blessed, and the ass which he is riding only speaks like a human\nbeing when it meets the angel in the Catholic girl Clare Arundel.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[175] _Lothair._ By the Right Honorable B. Disraeli. Pp. 218. D.\nAppleton & Co. 1870.\n\n\n\n\nTHE INVITATION HEEDED.[176]\n\n\nThe above is the title of one of the best and most effective\ncontroversial works which we have had the pleasure to read for some\ntime. For those who believe in any historical Christianity, the\nargument contained in it is direct and unanswerable. We pray God it\nmay have a wide circulation and reach the numerous friends of its\ngifted author, who thus seeks, as many converts have done before him,\nto show to those he loves the blessed lights which guided him to the\nhome of truth and peace.\n\nMr. James Kent Stone is the son of the Rev. Dr. John S. Stone,\na highly respected minister of the Protestant Episcopal Church,\nfavorably known for many years in Brooklyn as the rector of Christ's\nchurch, and now, we believe, at the head of an Episcopalian seminary\nin Cambridge, Mass. He received his academical education at Harvard\nCollege, and afterward spent two years at one of the universities\nof Germany. Returning to this country in 1862, he was appointed\nprofessor of Latin in Kenyon College, Ohio, in which office he\nremained until 1867, when he was made president of the institution.\nHe was ordained a minister of the Protestant Episcopal Church in\n1866, and shortly after received the degree of D.D. from Racine\nCollege, Wisconsin.\n\nIn the year 1868, he was elected to the presidency of Hobart College,\nGeneva, New York, where he remained only one year. In September,\n1869, he resigned his position and his ministry, to seek retirement\nand prepare for his reception into the Holy Catholic Church. The 8th\nof December, 1869, the feast of the Immaculate Conception, was the\nhappy day of his entrance into the communion of Christ, in obedience\nto the call of its chief pastor.\n\nIn the prefatory chapter the author gives us some insight into the\ntrials of his own mind. Accepting what he had taken for granted as\nthe high Anglican position, he felt himself master of the Roman\nquestion. Anglicans were, in his mind, true Catholics, the _only_\ntrue Catholics, and the Reformation was a return to primitive truth\non the part of a favored few, who were to him the only witnesses\nof God upon earth. His intellect was too logical not to see that\nritualism, with which he never allied himself, was inconsistent with\nany possible degree of Anglicanism.\n\n    \"If the ritualists were right, the reformers were wrong. The\n    great sin of schism could never have been justified by any such\n    paltry differences as separate our 'advanced' friends from\n    the great Roman communion. The only consistent course for men\n    to take who believed in the sacrifice of the altar and in the\n    invocation of saints was to go back, promptly and penitently,\n    to the ancient church, which had proved its infallibility by\n    being in the right after all.\"\n\nIn this position, to any unprejudiced eye, he stood upon an\nassumption of theology and history which it would seem that the\nslightest investigation should destroy. A church which begins by\ndenying the faithfulness of Christ to his promises, and asserts for\nitself claims which render all antiquity a fable, ought not long to\nhold the love of an honest heart. It would be hard for any one to\nknow what the English church really teaches; and if it teaches any\nthing, it certainly does so upon human authority, since infallibility\nis denied in itself, and in every other communion. When our eyes are\nonce opened, we wonder we were so long deluded. The real reason why\nHigh-Churchmen do not become Catholics is, that they do not sincerely\nwish to know the truth, which calls to sacrifices and sad trials of\nthe heart.\n\n\"If any man love father or mother more than me, he is not worthy\nof me.\" We believe that one earnest prayer for light, with a full\ndetermination to follow it at every cost without hesitation, would\nlead to the one home of truth every Anglican, and even every\nritualist. But the misfortune is, that they will not offer any such\nprayer. The world of honor or affection in which they move is too\ndear to be renounced. Let us hear what Dr. Stone so feelingly tells\nof his own experience:\n\n    \"Time went on; and I was not conscious of the smallest change\n    in my theological opinions and sympathies; when all at once the\n    ground upon which I had stood with such careless confidence,\n    gave way. Like a treacherous island, it sank without warning\n    from beneath my feet, and left me struggling in the wide\n    waters. Thanks be to God that I was not left to perish in that\n    cold and bitter flood, and that my feet so soon rested for ever\n    on the eternal rock! How it came about--by what intellectual\n    process my position had been undermined--by what unconscious\n    steps my feet had been led to an unseen brink, I did not know.\n    I was only aware of the sudden terror with which I found myself\n    slipping and going, and the darkness which succeeded the swift\n    plunge.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    \"I remembered how St. Augustine, 'one of the profoundest\n    thinkers of antiquity,' even for four years after he had\n    become a catechumen under St. Ambrose, was entangled in the\n    meshes of his Manich\u00e6an heresy. I admitted instantly that I,\n    too, _might be_ under a spell; that my case might be--I do\n    not dare to say like that of the great saint and father, but\n    that of the Donatists or the Gnostics; since I was certainly\n    not more positive in my convictions than they, neither could\n    I furnish myself with any satisfactory reason for believing\n    that I was blessed with greater light. And then the hand of God\n    drew back the veil of my heart; and I saw for the first time,\n    and all at once, how utterly steeped I had been in prejudice,\n    how from the beginning I had, without a question or suspicion,\n    assumed the very point about which I ought reverently to have\n    inquired with an impartial and a docile mind. I had studied\n    the Roman controversy; so I thought--if in my short life I\n    could fairly be said to have studied any thing; but _how_ had\n    I studied it? Had there ever been a time when it was an _open\n    question_ in my mind whether the claims of the Roman Church\n    were valid? Had I begun by admitting that the pope might be\n    right? Had it ever crossed my thoughts that the church in\n    communion with the see of Peter might be indeed the one only\n    Catholic Church of our Lord Jesus Christ? And had I ever\n    resolved, with all my soul, as one standing on the threshold\n    and in the awful light of eternity, to begin by tearing down\n    every assumption and divesting myself of every prejudice, and\n    _then_, wherever truth should lead the way, to follow--'leave\n    all and follow'? Alas! never. I had studied simply to combat\n    and refute. The suggestion that 'Romanism' might after all\n    be identical with Christianity was preposterous. The papacy\n    was the great apostasy, the mystery of iniquity; it was the\n    master-piece of Satan, who had made his most successful attack\n    upon the church of God by entering and corrupting it. The rise\n    of the papal pretensions was matter of the plainest history;\n    and every well-instructed child could point out how one\n    fiction after another had been grafted into the creed of that\n    apostate church, until now the simple faith of early days was\n    scarce recognizable under the accumulated error of centuries.\n    'History'--who _wrote_ that history? 'Well-instructed\n    child'--why, that was the very point at issue!\n\n    \"I saw that I had been guilty of what Bossuet calls 'a\n    calumny,' and what I now acknowledged to be an act of\n    injustice, namely, of charging upon Catholics _inferences_\n    which I had myself drawn from their doctrines, but against\n    which Catholics indignantly protest. I could not say with St.\n    Augustine that 'I blushed with joy;' but with shame I blushed,\n    'at having so many years barked, not against the Catholic\n    faith, but against the fictions of carnal imaginations. For so\n    rash and impious had I been, that what I ought by inquiring to\n    have learned, I had pronounced on, condemning.... I should have\n    knocked and proposed the doubt, how it was to be believed, not\n    insultingly opposed it as if believed.'\n\n    \"This is the 'plunge' I spoke of. I used the word because\n    it expressed, as well perhaps as any other, the terrifying\n    rapidity which marked the steps of my intellectual crisis.\n    Upon some men the discovery of a life-long error may break\n    gradually; truth may be said to have its dawning; but to me it\n    came with a shock. The rain descended and the floods came; my\n    house fell; and great was the fall of it.\n\n    \"Then followed a sense of blank desolateness. I was groping\n    among ruins; and wherewith should I go to work to build again?\n    I do not mean that I faltered. Thank God that he kept me true,\n    and suffered me not to shrink from the sharp agony which I\n    perceived was _possibly_ in store for me! To borrow words of\n    the great father from whose experience I have already drawn,\n    'God gave me that mind, that I should prefer nothing to the\n    discovery of truth, wish, think of, love naught besides.' But\n    the task of reconstruction seemed almost helpless.\n\n    \"And so I set my face forward with desperate earnestness; and\n    in due time--it may seem, a very short time--I had not a trace\n    of doubt left that I had all along been a vain enemy of the\n    one, catholic, and apostolic church. Why _not_ in a short time?\n    Why not in a month, or a week, or a day? Is it any reflection\n    upon truth that she surrenders herself quickly to a soul whose\n    every nerve is strained in her pursuit? Is it any argument\n    against the church of God that it is easily identified? Surely,\n    if there be a kingdom of heaven upon earth, it must be known\n    by marks which cannot be mistaken. Yes! I knew it when I had\n    found it. And I found it as in the parable, like a treasure\n    hidden in a field--in the self-same field up and down which I\n    had wandered for years, and where I had often trampled it under\n    my feet. And when I had found it, I hid it, scarce daring to\n    gaze at its splendor, and crying, as St. Augustine cried, 'Too\n    late, alas! have I known thee, O ancient and eternal truth!'\n    And then, for joy thereof, I went and sold all that I had, and\n    bought that field.\"\n\nThe pages which follow this preface are a brief but cogent exposition\nof the convictions which forced themselves upon the mind of the\nauthor. He develops the argument which proved so availing in his\nown case, and which, it seems to us, should be satisfactory to any\nearnest inquirer. He commences by viewing the Catholic Church in its\nhistorical aspects, as the human eye beholds it, and without any\nnecessary reference to its supernatural character. The attitude of\nthe world toward it in the present and in every age is a proof of\nits greatness, for men neither fear nor attack an enemy which they\ndespise. Its wonderful life, in spite of opposition which would long\nago have destroyed any merely human organization, is so striking a\nfact that no honest mind can fail to feel its force.\n\nBut it is not only as a _living_ body, with a vitality unknown to any\nother society, that it impresses our intellects; in its wonderful\nlife it has been the guardian of morals, and the author of every high\nvirtue. Civilization owes its very existence to its creed and its\nfostering care. And while Protestantism, of only recent origin, has\nfailed to accomplish any thing but destruction, there is no sign of\ndecay or feebleness in the ancient and unchanging church.\n\nIn the second part of the work the author gives the reasons in full\nfor this wonderful vitality, and shows how the \"Word made flesh\"\nis the source of life to that body which he fills, and which the\nParaclete sent by him ever animates. The facts of Christianity are\nclearly drawn out, and the necessary notes of the church are tried by\nthe appeal to holy Scripture and tradition. From the conclusion of\nthis argument there is no escape, and it is well demonstrated that\nthe religion of Christ stands or falls with the Catholic faith.\n\nIn the concluding portion of the book, Dr. Stone looks carefully\nat the essential features of that body which the incarnate God,\nas a master-builder, framed with one head, and all the needful\nconstituents of a perfect organism. The office of St. Peter was not\nsimply an ornamental appendage to the company of apostles, but an\nintegral and essential part in the complex of visible Christianity.\nThe church is Christianity in the concrete, and can no more exist\nwithout St. Peter than the human body can live without a head. And to\nthat head all the functions of the body are subordinated. There is no\nfear of any unjust preponderance, or that any member of the body will\nlose its activity or honor; for the Holy Ghost lives in the body, and\nspeaks through the mouth of its head. The functions of the primacy\nare displayed with beautiful clearness in this work, which without\nany unnecessary words refutes the arguments of objectors, and cuts\nto pieces their vain appeals to history or antiquity. We are much\npleased to see how an honest mind, which had no reason to seek for\nCatholic truth except for its own sake, has been able to see how all\nthe functions of the papacy are involved in the very constitution of\nthe church.\n\nThe infallibility of the sovereign pontiff as \"the father and the\nteacher of all Christians\" is directly deduced from the position he\nholds in the ecclesiastical body, and the needs of his office. We\nearnestly commend this work to those who are searching for truth,\nand are willing to embrace it when it presents itself. While there\nis no new argument, there is great freshness in the manner in which\nit is conducted. There are very many who would not become Catholics\neven if Almighty God were to work miracles before their eyes. We say\nthis advisedly and from sad experience. They are too attached to the\ncircles in which they move; and even when divine light urges them\nkeenly, they are willing to take the risk. So they compound with\ntheir consciences by assuming a great spiritual activity in their own\nspheres, and the noon of their day of grace passes away. They will\nnever see again the freshness and life of the morning.\n\nThere are others who deal with truth as they would be ashamed to\ndeal with any affair of human life. They ask that every difficulty,\nhistorical or theological, shall be removed from the vast field of\ncontroversy ere they will yield assent to a proposition they are\nforced to admit, which is the key of the whole position. To those\nwho will not be guided by the light of faith, this is an unending\ntask. They are worse than the Jews, who would not believe \"unless\nthey saw signs and wonders.\" The Catholic Church does not offer any\nmore trials, to the understanding than did the meek and lowly Man\nof Sorrows in his sojourn upon earth. All difficulties cannot be\nremoved at once, nor before the shadows of error have given way to\nthe bright sun of truth. We cannot see perfectly in the night; yet\nthere is really but one question to be asked and answered, Did Jesus\nChrist, my divine Redeemer, found the Catholic Church, and promise\nit perpetuity? If so, then I am bound to accept it as I find it; for\nI cannot make a church for myself, nor could he allow the communion\nwhich he formed and vivified to fall into error. If I will not accept\nthis church, I may wander on the waste without a guide, for there is\nno such thing as Christianity for me.\n\nAnother thing which this book impresses upon us is very important,\nand it is a truth which we have had occasion to know from long\nacquaintance with Protestantism. There is only one way of dealing\nwith those whom we believe to be in error, and that is by always\nmaintaining with, consistency the principles of our creed. Any\nattempt to compromise with Protestants, as if there were not\na diametrical opposition between truth and falsehood, will be\ndisastrous to their conversion. Men will not give up the associations\nof years, renounce position and hopes, and even break family ties,\nunless they believe it necessary to their salvation. Nothing less\nthan this motive can be held up to the wanderer who seeks in vain\nfrom his own intellect the lights that will guide him to a happy\neternity. And any converts that come into the church from any lower\nmotive are unfit for the graces of faith, and will never imbibe the\nspirit of a true Catholic. There is one God and one church, and this\nchurch is a necessity to all to whom its message of mercy comes. It\ncan stand upon this ground alone as a divine organization, and here\nonly can demand the obedience of mankind.\n\nThere are many souls sadly in need and without a religion, which\nis the first want of our nature. There are many who are trying\nto gain time against the Spirit of God by postponing the hour of\nsacrifice. There are those who, in hollow mockery of their highest\naspirations, are playing with shadows, and deceiving themselves with\ncounterfeits of the truth. We pray God that this book may fall into\ntheir hands, and be a messenger from on high, bidding them look well\nto foundations which are built on the sand, and can never abide the\ntempest of human passion, much less the storm of God's judgment.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[176] _The Invitation Heeded; or, Reasons for a Return to Catholic\nUnity._ By James Kent Stone, late President of Kenyon College,\nGambier, Ohio, and of Hobart College, Geneva, New York; and S. T. D.\n1 vol. 12mo, pp. 340. New York: The Catholic Publication Society, 9\nWarren street. 1870.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FIRST \u0152CUMENICAL COUNCIL OF THE VATICAN.\n\nNUMBER SIX.\n\n\nHoly-Week in Rome! How many Christian hearts have yearned for it,\nhave looked forward to it in hope! How many recall it among the\nsweetest and most precious memories of the past! In this sacred\ncity, and in this most solemn season, a spell is thrown around the\nfaithful pilgrim; or rather, he is released in a great measure from\nthe delusive spells of the world. Mind and heart, and, we might\nalmost say, the body too, seem to live in a new world, in which the\nall-absorbing thought and affair is the grand mystery of what God has\ndone in his infinite power and love to redeem this fallen race of man.\n\nWhat emotions must fill the catholic heart as, after perhaps a long\nand weary journey, one is rapidly borne on by the train from Civita\nVecchia, and knows at last that within one hour he will be in Rome.\nThe yellow Tiber is flowing by the railway track, sluggishly and\nsilently, on to the sea. At intervals, antique-looking barges, with\nhigh-peaked prows and high sterns, are floating down, heavily laden\nwith boxes of statuary and of marbles, or of other works of art--it\nmay be, of books or of baggage. A couple of oars suffice to keep\nthe vessel in mid-channel, or to accelerate its motion. Perhaps, if\nthe course of the sinuous river allows it, a huge lateen-sail on a\nheavy stump of a mast helps it onward. Perchance, too, a tiny steamer\nmeets him, puffing its way downward; or the train overtakes another\nbreasting the stream and towing up three or four barges, each larger\nthan itself. The eye travels across the classic river, and roams\nover the rolling surface of the campagna, and takes notes of the\nmany ruins that dot its surface, mostly relics of the mausoleums and\nmassive tombs with which the Romans of old were wont to line their\nroads leading from the city, for miles and miles. At length Rome is\nat hand; across the Tiber you see the new St. Paul's _extra muros_,\nrising like a ph\u0153nix after the ruinous conflagration of 1823, and\nnot yet entirely finished. The great apostle was buried here after\nhis martyrdom. Here his body has ever been venerated. Some day, and\nsoon, you may come hither, and in the splendor of that church look\ndown into the confession to catch a glimpse of the interior of the\nunderground crypt, and the sarcophagus within it, in which lie his\nmortal remains, and read the large letters on it, _Paullus Apostolus\nMartyr_, \"Paul, the Apostle and Martyr.\" On the lofty summit of\nthe front, plainly visible, is the gigantic statue of the apostle\nhimself, bearing the emblematic sword--as if standing sentinel and\nguarding the approach to the Holy City, which he consecrated by his\npreaching and his death. Soon you are on the bridge over the stream,\nand all eyes are turned to the left, where above the city walls, now\nvisible, and the roofs of houses, and the cupolas of many churches,\nyou see for a moment or two the majestic dome of St. Peter's towering\nover all. The road runs around the walls of the city for some\ndistance before entering, and St. Peter's is soon shut out from view,\nonly to be replaced by the majestic front of St. John of Lateran's,\nnear at hand. But on the other side, you see more clearly than before\nthe campagna with its multitude of ruins, and the Sabine and Alban\nMountains. In the clear atmosphere you can distinguish the vineyards\nand olive groves, and dark forests, and cities and towns and pleasant\nvillas. Along the campagna, from the foot of these hills, there\nstretches for miles on miles, like a huge centipede, a long line of\ndark and jagged masonry, borne aloft on massive piers and arches. It\nis an old aqueduct, or, as your guide-book tells you, three aqueducts\nin one. You dash through one of those arches, and the panorama is\nchanged. Other mountains in the distance, with other cities and\ntowns, other ruins on the campagna--the ancient basilicas of St.\nLawrence and St. Agnes near at hand. At length you pass through an\narchway of the wall into the city. St. John of Lateran's is again\nbefore you. Not distant is the church of Santa Croce; and St. Mary\nMajor's, with its cupolas, its medi\u00e6val belfry, and its obelisk, is\neven nearer. The balmy breeze of the afternoon brings to your ear the\nsweet chime of its many bells. You are on the Quirinal hill, and can\nlook over some portion of the city, with its belfries, and cupolas,\nits red-tiled roofs, and many-windowed houses. Near by are massive\nruins. The excavations of the railway track have unearthed broken\ncolumns, frescoed walls of ancient rooms, and masses of travertino\nmasonry, belonging to the walls which Servius Tullius, the fifth king\nof Rome, built around the city. Issuing from the depot to seek your\nhotel, you are at once before the ruins of the baths of Dioclesian,\nand the Cistercian Abbey, and the church of St. Mary degli Angioli.\nYour way leads by churches, palaces, ruins, obelisks, statues, and\never-gushing fountains, through a maze of narrow streets with sharp\nturns. You understand that these streets were not laid out, and\nthe houses built on clear ground. The houses stand more or less on\nthe foundations of older buildings that have perished, and follow,\nto a limited extent, the course of those foundations. As for the\nstreets, they do as they can, under the circumstances, and seldom\nhave the same breadth and direction for three hundred yards at a\ntime. Every thing tells you of olden heathen Rome that has perished,\nand of a new Rome that has arisen in its place, not to be compared to\nits predecessor in size or in earthly magnificence, but infinitely\nsuperior in spiritual and moral grandeur.\n\nWithout an hour's unnecessary delay, you seek St. Peter's. A glance\nof wonder at the vastness and majesty of its approaches, of its\nfront, and its portals, is all you will give now; for the heart is\nfilled with a sense of that glory of which all this, great as it\nis, is but a figure. You pass through the vestibule, large as a\nmagnificent cathedral, push aside the heavy curtain before the inner\ndoor, and you are within the grand basilica. The light is evenly\ndiffused and soft, and comes through unseen windows. The temperature\nis pleasant. If outside you found the day cold and unpleasant, here\nthe atmosphere seems warm and agreeable. If outside it was hot, here\nyou feel it cool and refreshing. As you look at the vast expanse of\nthe building, you wonder at the solitude. It seems almost vacant;\nalthough, if you could count them, there are hundreds moving about,\nor kneeling here and there in silent prayer, and scores are entering\nor going out. As you advance up the broad and lofty central nave,\nthere come from a chapel on the left the rolling sounds of an organ,\nand the chorus of many voices, as canons are chanting the daily\nvespers in their own chapel. Further on, from the other side, you\nhear the murmuring of many voices. A long line of pilgrims, or the\nmembers of some confraternity, have come in procession to pray in\nSt. Peter's; and as they kneel before the altar, perhaps a hundred\ndevout men and women from the parish, or of those accidentally in\nthe church, have gathered around them, and have knelt and join in\ntheir chanted hymns and prayers. On still you proceed, until you are\nbeneath the lofty dome itself, and have approached the oval railing\nof marble which is united to the grand altar, and on which ever burn\na hundred and forty-two lamps. You look over into the opening in the\nmarble pavement, which is called the confession of St. Peter's, and\nyou see below the floor of the ancient church, and immediately under\nthe present high-altar stands the chief altar of that ancient church.\nThough you do not see it, you know that still deeper, and below that\naltar, is a small chamber in the earth, whose floor and sides and\narched roof are all of large blocks of dressed stone--travertino--and\nthat in that vaulted chamber stands the marble sarcophagus which\ncontains the remains of St. Peter, the chief of the apostles, the\nfounder and the first Bishop of Rome, who was crucified under Nero,\nin the year 67, on the hill near by, and whom pious Christian hands\nreverently buried in this very spot, ever since sacred to the\nfollowers of Christ. Then it was an obscure spot, outside the city,\nnear certain brickyards on the Aurelian Way. Now it is covered by the\ngrandest temple which the world ever saw, on which all that man can\ndo or give of most precious is offered and consecrated to the service\nof religion and the glory of God.\n\nA poor, humble, simple-minded fisherman on the Lake of Genesareth,\nin Galilee, whom men called Simon, was chosen by our Lord; his name\nwas changed to Peter, a rock--for on that rock the church of Christ\nwould be built; to him were given the keys of the kingdom of heaven,\nand he was charged with the duty of confirming his brethren in the\nfaith. At the command of his Lord, and in the power of the divine\ncommission, he went forth to his work of zeal and of trials. Like his\ndivine Master, poor, persecuted, crucified, he was the instrument of\nGod for mighty things. Empires and kingdoms have perished; but the\nchurch still stands. Dynasties have succeeded dynasties, and have\npassed away like the shadows of clouds in spring; but the line of\nsuccessors to St. Peter continues unbroken. The intellect and study,\nthe passions, the violence, and the inconstancy of men have changed\nall things human, again and again, within eighteen centuries; but\nthere remaineth _one Lord_, _one faith_, _one baptism_, one church\nof Christ, against which the gates of hell cannot prevail. And here,\nto-day, you stand at the earthly centre of that spiritual kingdom, by\nthe tomb of him to whom Christ gave promises which must ever stand\ntrue, though heaven and earth pass away. You can but kneel and pray\nwith all the fervor of your heart, taking no account of others near\nyou, nor of the passage of time. And when at length earnest prayer\nhas brought calm and holy joy to your soul, you may rise and look up\ninto the dome, rising four hundred feet above you, with mosaics of\nevangelists, and prophets, and angels, archangels, and all the grades\nof the celestial host, until in the summit, amid a blaze of light,\nthe \"Ancient of Days\" looks down from heaven, in power and majesty,\nblessing the worshippers of earth, and bending forward to receive the\nprayers of all who come to this holy and consecrated temple to pour\nforth their supplications and entreat his mercy. You may examine the\ngrandiose proportions of nave and transept and aisle, the mosaics,\nand marbles, and statues, and saints; you may go forth into the\nvast vestibule, guarded at one extremity by an equestrian statue of\nConstantine, and at the other by one of Charlemagne; you may linger,\nas you look again at the mighty square in front of the basilica, with\nits magnificent ever-flowing fountains, so typical of the waters of\nlife, its colonnades stretching away hundreds of yards on either\nside, like arms put forth to embrace the multitudes of the children\nof men, and the lofty, needle-formed Egyptian obelisk in the centre,\npointing toward heaven. On its summit is a bronze casket, containing\na portion of the true cross on which the Saviour suffered death; and\nat the base is an inscription, brief in words, and here most sublime\nin its appositeness. Your heart takes in the full meaning as you\nread, _Christ reigns. Christ rules; Christ has conquered. May Christ\ndefend us from every ill._\n\nThis is the spirit, the key-note, as it were, of Christian life in\nRome. We might say, also, that it is the animating principle of her\ntemporal existence. For, save as the centre of the Catholic Church\nand the see of Peter, Rome would quickly perish. On the hills of\nthe campagna and on the slopes of the mountains around, may still\nbe seen faint vestiges of cities and towns that were illustrious\ncenturies before Rome was founded. They have utterly perished.\nOthers of the same class seem to drag out a lingering existence, as\nobscure villages, of no importance, whose names no one mentions, and\nwhose ancient history is known only to antiquarians. Many a desert,\nforest, or plain can show ruins to rival those of the seven hills.\nFlorence, and many a modern city, can boast of galleries of the\nfine arts and museums to rival, if not to surpass, most of those\nin Rome. No, it is not for her antiquity, nor for her grand ruins\nof past ages, nor for her paintings and sculpture, her marbles and\nmosaics, that Rome stands unrivalled in the world. These are but\naccessories. Neither they nor any mere human gift can suffice to\nexplain the mystery of her survival, despite so many convulsions and\nshocks, and her continued and prosperous existence, where all around\nher has sunk into decay and ruin. Were there no other source of\nlife, these would soon fail her. The treasures of art and antiquity\nin her galleries, and museums, and public buildings would soon be\nshattered by spoliation or conquest, and she would be left desolate\nand stricken like her crumbling ruins. It is the moral power of\nChristianity which gives her a life and a strength beyond that of the\nsword. It is the presence of that pontiff who is the visible head\nof the church, and the centre of Catholic unity and of spiritual\nauthority, which saves her from the fate of other cities. Her true\nsource of life is her religious position. When, centuries ago, the\npopes, wearied out by the tumults of the people and the turbulence\nof the barons, withdrew for peace' sake, and abode for seventy years\nin Avignon, Rome dwindled down to be little better than a village\nof ten or fifteen thousand souls. The Romans spoke of that time as\na Babylonian captivity. With the return of the pontiffs, prosperity\nwas again restored. When, in the early part of the present century,\nPius VII. was borne away and held captive for years in France, and\nRome was annexed to the French empire, the population of the city\nquickly sank to one hundred and thirteen thousand, and was rapidly\ndiminishing. When he returned, in 1814, it began to rise again, and\nto-day Rome has nearly double that population. Were the sovereign\npontiff to be driven into exile to-morrow, as Garibaldi and Mazzini,\nand the _Italianissimi_ of Florence desire, Rome would again, and\nat once, enter on a downward career of misery and ruin. In twenty\nyears she would lose all her treasures and half of her population.\nAll this is clear to the Romans themselves; all the more clear from\nthe fate which has overtaken those cities of the states of the church\nwhich were annexed to the kingdom of Italy eight or ten years ago. No\nwonder that, in 1867, neither the artful emissaries of Ratazzi nor\nthe military parade of Garibaldi was able to gather recruits to their\nattempt, either from the country around or from the city itself. The\nRomans would shudder at the thought of a renewal of that attempt, as\nat a terrible calamity.\n\nBut we must not wander away into such considerations. This theme,\nthough most important to the Romans and often on their lips, is of\ntoo worldly a character. For this month, at least, we leave it aside,\nand join that immense crowd of strangers who have filled Rome, drawn\nhither to look on the council, and to unite in the solemn offices\nof Holy-Week, more solemn and imposing this year than perhaps ever\nbefore, on account of the vast number of bishops uniting in their\ncelebration. Once, the German element used to stand prominent before\nall others, in the crowd of strangers that flocked to Rome for\nHoly-Week; afterward the English, and laterly the Americans, became\nconspicuous. This year, although they were probably as numerous\nas ever, they seemed to sink into the background before the vast\nnumber of French who filled the holy city, and who, almost without\nexception, had come in the spirit of earnest, fervent Catholics.\nThey were fully as numerous and fully as demonstrative as at the\ncentenary celebration in 1867. Their coming was announced by the\never-increasing numbers who, each day that a general congregation\nof the council was held, gathered at St. Peter's at half-past eight\nA.M., to see the bishops enter, or at one P.M., to see them come\nforth from the council hall.\n\nIn ordinary times, the pope and cardinals celebrate nearly all the\noffices of Holy-Week, not in St. Peter's, which is left to the canons\nand clergy of that basilica, but in the Sixtine chapel, which is\nthe pope's court chapel, so to speak, within the Vatican palace.\nIt is as large as a moderate American church. About one half is\nrailed off as a sanctuary for the pontiff, and the cardinals and\ntheir attendants, and for the other clergymen who are required or\nare privileged to attend the services in this chapel. The remaining\nhalf, assigned to the laity, will hold four or five hundred seated\nor standing, as the case may be. The number desiring to enter is so\ngreat that often a seat can be obtained only by coming two or three\nhours before the time for commencing the services. This year, if the\nbishops were to be present, the whole chapel would have to be used as\na sanctuary, and no room would remain for any of the laity. To avoid\nthis embarrassment, and the consequent disappointment of thousands,\nit was settled that this year the papal services of Holy-Week should\nbe celebrated, not in this Sixtine chapel, but in St. Peter's itself,\nwhere, besides all the bishops, ten thousand others might attend, and\nseem only a moderate-sized crowd grouped close to the sanctuary.\n\nTo St. Peter's, then, on Palm-Sunday morning, came the papal choir,\nand half a thousand bishops, archbishops, primates, and patriarchs,\nthe cardinals with their attendants, and the holy father himself,\nfor the blessing of the palms and the other services of the day.\nThey were substantially the same as the services in ten thousand\nother churches of the Catholic world that day. But here, there were\nof course a splendor and magnificence that could be rivalled nowhere\nelse. The palms to be blessed lay in masses regularly arranged near\nthe throne of the pontiff. They seemed scarcely to differ from the\nbranches of our southern palmetto. On many of them the long leaves\nwere fancifully plaited, so as to represent a branch surrounded by\nroses, lilies, leaves, and crosses. The Catholic negroes that came\nto the United States from San Domingo years ago used to do something\nsimilar. There is an interesting story about these palms. On the\ntenth of September, 1586, Fontana, the architect and engineer of St.\nPeter's, was to lift to its present position in the middle of the\nsquare before St. Peter's, the immense unbroken mass of stone which\nformed an Egyptian obelisk that had been erected in the amphitheatre\nof Nero, and still stood not far off, its base buried in the earth\nthat centuries had accumulated around it. It was a mighty, a perilous\nwork, to transport this obelisk, three hundred yards, ever keeping\nit in its upright position, and at the end to lift it up and plant\nit on the lofty pedestal. Pope Sixtus V. and all Rome were there to\nlook on. In default of steam-engines and hydraulic rams, not then\ninvented, Fontana used a huge scaffolding, ropes, blocks and tackle,\nand windlasses, and hundreds of operatives. Any mistake or confusion\nas to orders or delay in executing them might overthrow the immense\npillar, and prove disastrous to the work, and fatal perhaps to\nscores of lives. In view of the emergency, a kind of military law\nwas proclaimed, whereby all lookers-on were to keep silence, under\npenalty of death. Fontana, standing aloft, gave his orders, the\nwheels were turned, the ropes tightened, the mighty mass slowly moved\non, the pedestal was reached. The obelisk was lifted up. Hours rolled\non, and still it rose gradually but truly. At length it stood within\na few feet of its destined position. But it would go no farther.\nThe ropes, bearing the strain of the weight for so many hours, had\nstretched, and some were threatening to snap. Fontana stood pale and\nspeechless at the impending disaster, which he now saw no way of\naverting. Suddenly a clear, manly voice was heard from out of the\ncrowd, \"_Wet your ropes! wet your ropes!_\" Fontana at once seized\nthe happy thought. The ropes were wetted, swelled and contracted\nto their original state, and soon the huge obelisk stood upright\nand firm on the solid pedestal, and the daring work was crowned\nwith complete success. Meanwhile, the officers had seized the man\nthat cried out; he was brought before the pope, who thanked him and\nembraced him. He was asked who he was, and what reward he desired.\nHis name was Bresca, a sailor from San Remo, near Nice. His family\nowned a palm-grove there, and the reward he asked was the privilege\nof supplying St. Peter's every year for ever with the palm-branches\nto be blessed and used on Palm-Sunday. It was granted. Nearly three\ncenturies have passed, but the family of Bresca is still at San Remo,\nhas still palm-groves, and every year there comes a small vessel\nfrom that port, laden with the palm-branches for St. Peter's. May it\ncontinue to come three hundred years hence!\n\nThe holy father, in that clear, sweet, and majestic voice, for which\nhe is remarkable, chanted the prayers for the blessing of the palms.\nTo the blessing succeeded the distribution. One after another, the\ncardinals gravely advanced, the long silk trains of their robes\nrustling on the carpet as they moved forward; each one received a\npalm-branch; the oriental patriarchs, the primates, and a number of\nthe archbishops and bishops, as representatives of their brethren,\nfollowed after the cardinals, and received each his branch. Meanwhile\nthe choir was singing the exquisite anthems, \"Pueri Hebr\u00e6orum,\"\nappointed for that occasion. It was a simple, yet a most effective\nand thrilling scene. The cardinals stood in their long line, the\nrich gold ornamentation of their chasubles shining brightly on the\nviolet silk, on their heads the mitre or the red _calotte_ of their\nrank. Before each one stood his chaplain in dark purple, holding the\ndecorated palm-branch, like a lance. In the middle, as the lines of\nOriental and Latin prelates in their rich and varied robes approached\nthe holy father, or retired, each one bearing his palm-branch, there\nwas a perpetual changing and shifting and intermingling of colors,\nas in a kaleidoscope. Near the pope, stood the senator and other\ncivil officers of Rome, in their medi\u00e6val mantles. The Swiss guard,\nin a military dress of broad stripes, red and yellow, or black and\nyellow, some of them wearing steel corselets and breastplates, and\nall wearing the plumed Tyrolean military hat; they stood motionless\nas statues, holding their bright halberds upright. The Noble Guard,\nin their rich uniform, stood here and there; and on both sides,\nline after line of bishops, robed in cappa magnas, formed a massive\nand imposing background. Add to all these, the religious orders,\nCarmelites, Dominicans, Franciscans of every family, Augustinians,\nBenedictines, Cistercians, Canons Regular, Theatines, Servites,\nCrociferi, and many others, each in the costume of his order\nor congregation, and all bearing branches of blessed palm. Add\nstill the continuous chanting of those unrivalled voices and the\nindistinct bass murmur or rustling of the vast crowd. It was a scene\nwhich carried one away. You did not strive to catch every note of\nPalestrina's beautiful composition. It was enough to drink in the\nsound. You scarcely thought of reciting the words of a prayer--there\nare none assigned for the time of distribution specifically--you\nfound it easier to indulge a train of devotional thought, and to\nunite with it something of pious admiration.\n\nNext followed the procession in commemoration of the solemn entry of\nour Saviour into Jerusalem, five days before his Passion. Leaving the\nsanctuary, the long lines of singers, of the religious orders, of\nbishops and prelates, and of cardinals, and finally the pope with his\nattendants, passed down the nave of the church, out by one door into\nthe vestibule, and, returning by another into the church, again came\nup the nave and entered the sanctuary. The strains of the \"Gloria,\nLaus, et Honor,\" the hymn for that procession, always beautiful, and\ninfinitely more so when sung to-day by this choir, swelled as the\nprocession approached you, became fainter and sweeter as it passed\non. You caught but a faint murmur of melody while they were in the\nvestibule, and the notes rose again as the procession entered the\nchurch and moved slowly onward to the sanctuary.\n\nThen came the high mass, which an archbishop celebrated, by special\npermission, at the high-altar. Without such permission, no one save\nthe holy father himself celebrates there. During this mass the entire\nhistory of the Passion of our Lord, as given in the Gospel of St.\nMatthew, is sung. On Good-Friday, the same history is sung, as given\nby St. John. Perhaps no portion of the chants of the church in use at\nthe present day is as ancient and venerable as the mode in which the\nPassion is chanted. The old classic Greek style is preserved, and,\nfundamentally at least, the melody must be Grecian, although perhaps\nsomewhat changed to suit our modern gamut. The ordinary mode is to\ndistribute the whole among three singers, one of whom chants all\nthe narrative or historical portion. Whenever the Saviour speaks, a\nsecond singer chants his words. A third singer comes in at the proper\ntimes to chant whatever is said by others. In the Sixtine chapel,\nand here in St. Peter's to-day, there is a slight change made, which\nfrom its appropriateness and effective character we cannot but look\non as in part, at least, a return toward the original idea of such a\nchant. One singer, an exquisite tenor, took up the narrative portion\nin a _recitativo_, closing each sentence with the modulations with\nwhich many of our readers must be well acquainted. A baritone voice,\none of the richest, smoothest, most majestic, and most plaintive and\nsympathetic we ever heard, chanted the Saviour's part. There was not\nin it a note that we had not heard before scores of times, but never\nas they were now chanted. One could, it seemed, listen to him for\never; when he closed one sentence, your eye ran along the page to\nmark the verse, at which you would hear him again. As he uttered the\nwords, you drank them in, in their sense rather than in the music,\nrealizing something of their pathos and majesty. It was as if in\ntruth you stood near him in Gethsemane, before Annas, and Caiaphas,\nbefore Pilate; as if you walked with him along the sorrowful way, as\nif you stood so near the cross on Calvary that every word he spoke,\nevery tone of his voice, entered your heart. Years cannot efface from\nour minds the memory of that wondrous chant. It seems still to ring\nin our ears. The portions usually assigned to a third singer are\nhere distributed among several, who chant singly, or together, as\nthe words are spoken by one, or by several, or by a multitude. Thus,\na soprano and a contralto unite to sing the words of the two false\nwitnesses. The mutual contradiction of the witnesses is indicated by\nthe irregularity of the time, and the discords that are repeatedly\nintroduced. When the crowd cries out, \"_Away with him; crucify him;\nwe will have no king but C\u00e6sar_,\" the whole choir bursts forth. You\nhear the trembling shrill tones of age, the hissing words of irate\nmanhood, the shrill trebles of excited women, the full incisive words\nof the priests, and the clamors of the unthinking rabble. When they\ncry, \"_His blood be upon us and upon our children_,\" the voices, full\nat the beginning, grow tremulous and weaker as they proceed, and some\nare silent, as if reluctant to pronounce the terrible words of the\nimprecation. And when the soldiers, after scourging the Saviour, and\nputting on his head the crown of thorns, place the reed in his hands\nand kneel before him, saluting him, _Hail, King of the Jews_, the\nwords are sung by three or four voices with a softness, a sweetness,\nand an earnestness which would make you think that, for the moment,\nand in spite of themselves, they felt the divine truth of the words\nthey intended to utter in mockery.\n\nIn the entire cycle of music there is nothing so sublime and so\ntouching as the Passion of our Lord, sung by the papal choir in St.\nPeter's.\n\nOn Tuesday, in Holy-Week, a general congregation of the council was\nheld in the usual form. As we stated in our last number, the fathers\nvoted on the entire draught, then before them, either _placet_,\n_placet juxta modum_, or _non placet_. We need add nothing to the\naccount we then gave.\n\nOn Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday afternoons the bishops attended\nin St. Peter's at the office of the Tenebr\u00e6. On each occasion,\ntwenty-five or thirty thousand persons about half-filled the church,\nto hear the lamentations, and, above all, the far-famed Misereres\nheretofore only to be heard in the Sixtine chapel.\n\nThe papal choir is composed of about twenty-five singers. Basses,\nbaritones, contraltos, tenors, and sopranos, all chosen voices of\nthe first quality, and all trained for years in the special style\nof singing of this choir, different from that of any other we ever\nheard, and in the peculiar traditions as to the precise style in\nwhich each of their principal pieces should be executed. They say\nthemselves, that without this special training the mere notes of the\nscore would by no means suffice to guide another choir, at least so\nas to produce the marvellous effects which they attain. They have in\ntheir repertory over forty Misereres, composed by their different\n_maestri_, or chiefs, during the last three centuries. Not more than\nfour of these are placed by them in the first rank. On Wednesday,\nthat by Baini was sung; on Thursday, that of Allegri, and on Friday,\none by Mustafa, the present leader of the choir.\n\nThat of Allegri is acknowledged to be the best. He was born in Rome\nin 1560, and became a celebrated composer and singer. In 1629, he\nentered this choir, at the age of sixty-nine, and was its leader for\ntwenty-three years, dying in 1652 at the ripe age of ninety-two. His\nMiserere is of such incontestable merit that it is always one of the\nthree sung each year, and not unfrequently it has been sung twice in\nthe same year.\n\nBaini was born in Rome in 1775, entered the papal choir at about the\nage of thirty, became _maestro_ or leader in 1824, and died about\ntwenty years ago. He was the most learned musical scholar of Italy in\nhis day, and published a number of works. As a composer, he ranked\nvery high. His Miserere is esteemed next to that of Allegri. There\nis a difference between them. The older composer was filled with a\nsense of the full meaning of the psalm as a whole, and varies the\nexpression in each verse according to the sense of the entire verse.\nBaini, on the contrary, is disposed to dwell on the special sense\nof each word and minor phrase, bringing these points into higher\nrelief than Allegri would. To many, on this account, his Miserere\nis more intelligible and more pleasing than the other. But a longer\nfamiliarity with both invariably reverses this decision.\n\nMustafa, the present _maestro_ of the papal choir, was likewise\nborn in Rome, and entered the choir thirty years ago, as a soprano\nsinger. On Baini's death, he succeeded to his post. No one in Italy\nhas a more thorough and scientific knowledge of vocal music than he\nhas; and his compositions are among the choicest _morceaux_ of the\nchoir here. His Miserere has several advantages. It was written for\nthe voices now in the choir, and its execution is directed by the\ncomposer himself. There is more of the modern style about it than we\nfind in the other two. Hence it is always most pleasing, for style,\nand the precision and brilliancy with which it is sung.\n\nBut besides the artistic excellence which the few trained to analyze\nand examine such compositions can alone discover and discuss\nsuitably, there is a something about these Misereres which all can\nfeel, and which is far more religious in its character. Once enjoyed,\nit is never forgotten. As the long office of matins and lauds is\nslowly chanted, psalm succeeding psalm, and lamentation following\nlamentation, the lighted candles on the triangular candelabrum are\nall gradually extinguished, save one, and then, one by one, those\non the altar. The shades of evening are coming on. The light of day\nhas become almost a twilight, adding a mysterious indefiniteness\nto the immensity of the vast edifice. Only through the glory, or\ncircular stained window in the apsis of the basilica, there comes in\na golden light from the western sky. The cardinals and bishops are\nall kneeling in their places, the multitude of twenty-five thousand\nthat have waited two hours for this moment are hushed to deadest\nsilence. A wailing voice is heard--faint, sad, almost bursting into\nsobs--_Have mercy on me, O God!_ Another and another joins in the\nentreating cry. It swells and rises, sometimes in passionate, loud\nsupplication, sometimes lowered to broken tones, scarce daring\nto hope, until an angel voice leads on, _According to thy great\nmercy_. Verse after verse the wailing, pleading prayer continues, in\ncombinations of matchless voices, and in harmonious strains never\nheard or dreamed of before. The multitude listen, suppressing their\nbreathing lest they may lose a single one of the silvery tones. Some\nare kneeling, others who have not room to kneel, in that closely\npacked crowd, stand with their heads sunk on their breasts. All are\nsilent, yet many a moving lip tells you they are repeating the words\nwith the singers, that they may more fully drink in the sense and the\nappropriateness of the music. When the last verse closes, there is\na sigh, as if they waked from a trance and found themselves in this\nlife again.\n\nOn Thursday, Friday, and Saturday there were the usual services\nin St. Peter's, in the forenoon. On the first day, the bishops\nwere required to attend in white copes and mitres. A cardinal sang\nhigh-mass, after which came the usual procession of the blessed\nsacrament, which is conveyed from the main altar to a repository\nprepared to receive it. This year the chapel of the canons was used\nfor the purpose. Cross and candles and incense led the way. The\ncanons and beneficiaries and other clergy of St. Peter's followed,\neach one bearing a lighted waxen candle, and responding to the\nchanted hymns of the choir. A certain number of archbishops and\nprimates came next, and after them the cardinals, all likewise with\ntheir lighted tapers. The pontiff himself bore the blessed sacrament,\nunder a rich canopy of gold cloth, upheld on eight staffs of silver\ngilt, borne by his attendants. Cardinals and clergy, Swiss Guard and\nNoble Guard, walked slowly on either side; the heads of religious\norders followed, bearing their lights; and after them, not two and\ntwo, as the regular procession had walked, but more closely pressed\ntogether, came the hundreds of bishops. The church, at least the\nhalf of it toward the altar, was packed and jammed. Not without\nsome effort had the Swiss and the lines of soldiers kept a small\npassage-way clear for the procession from the main altar to the\nchapel of the canons. As the sound of the well-known hymn, the \"Pange\nlingua,\" was recognized, and the procession started, all who could\nknelt; those who had not room to do so bowed reverently until the\npontiff had passed and had entered the chapel, and the amen of the\nclosing prayer rang through the church.\n\nAt once there was a rushing to and fro of the thirty thousand people\nin the church, one half seeking to pass out to the square in front or\nto ascend to the broad summit of the colonnade on each side of it;\nfor the pontiff would, in a few minutes, give the solemn pontifical\nblessing from the loggia or balcony over the main door of St.\nPeter's. The other half took the occasion to occupy the vacant space\ncloser to the main altar, striving to secure the best positions, from\nwhich to witness, as well as they could, the ceremonies to follow in\nthe sanctuary, after the blessing, and trusting that on Easter-Sunday\nthey might be able to behold and to receive the blessing with grander\nceremonial than to-day. The holy father and the cardinals came forth\nfrom the chapel, and, leaving for a time the basilica by a side-door,\npassed into the Vatican palace, and from thence to the vast hall\nimmediately over the vestibule of St. Peter's. Borne in his curule\nchair, he advances to the loggia, or open balcony projecting in the\nmiddle toward the square, and looks out on the city, and on the\nthousands below, that kneel as he stands erect, and, raising both\narms aloft toward heaven, calls down on them the blessing of God the\nFather, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. The solemn and sweet tones of\nthat majestic voice ring through the square, and the words are heard\ndistinctly by the multitudes. A cardinal reads and publishes the\nindulgence, and the pontiff and the cardinals retire.\n\nBack into the church the mass of people come, a living torrent.\nIn twenty minutes the cardinals and the bishops are again in the\nsanctuary, while the movement and rustling of the moving and\nstruggling crowd fills the church with the sound as of a deep,\ncontinuous, and subdued bass note. At one side of the large\nsanctuary, which is about one hundred and thirty feet deep, and\nseventy-five feet broad, an ascent of eight or ten steps leads to\na broad platform visible to all. On this platform attendants move\nabout, preparing all that is necessary for the next portion of the\nceremony, the _mandatum_, or washing of feet. Soon a line of thirteen\nfigures, dressed as pilgrims in long white woollen robes reaching to\nthe instep, ascend to the platform, and the attendants conduct them\nto the seats that are prepared. They are priests from abroad who\nhave come to Rome and all eyes are turned to inspect them as they\nstand ranged in a line. One is an old man stooped with age, with\nlarge, piercing dark eyes, and heavy eyebrows, long aquiline nose\nand high cheek-bones, and ruddy cheeks. The olive tint of his skin\nlooks darker by contrast with his ample flowing beard of patriarchal\nwhiteness. He is from the east. Perhaps those two other younger ones,\nwith full black beards, are from the east likewise. To judge by his\nalmond eye, the long and regular features, and the darkish skin,\nanother was an Egyptian. Of a fifth there could be no mistake. He was\nfrom Senegambia in Africa, and his surname was _Zamba_, or, as we\ncall it in America, _Sambo_. His jet black skin, his negro features,\nthe blue spectacles he wore, and his instinctive attitude of dignity\nmade him the most conspicuous in the number. They entered, wearing\ntall white caps, in shape something like stove-pipe hats without any\nrim, and with a tuft on the summit; long white dresses of the shape\nyou may see in the miniatures of illuminated manuscripts written a\nthousand years ago; and even, their stockings and shoes were white\nas their dress. As all were ready, the pontiff enters, and the choir\nintones the antiphon, \"Mandatum novum\"--\"A new command I give you.\"\nSome preliminary prayers are chanted, and the pontiff, putting off\nthe cope, but retaining his mitre, is girded with an apron, and\nascends the platform. An attendant unlaces the shoe on the right foot\nof the first pilgrim, and lets down the stocking. Other attendants\npresent the ewer of water and the towels; the pontiff, stooping down\nor kneeling, washes the instep, dries it with a towel, and kisses\nit. While the attendants raise the stocking and lace the shoe, the\nholy father gives to the pilgrim a large nosegay, which in former\ntimes contained a coin to aid him on his journey homeward. He did\nthe same one by one to all of them. During this touching ceremony\nthe choir continued to sing anthem after anthem; but few present did\nmore than listen vaguely and enjoy the sound, so preoccupied, or\nrather so fascinated, all seemed to be by a ceremony so rarely used\nin the church, and so fully recalling our divine Saviour's act and\ninstruction before the Last Supper. Few have ever seen it in church,\nsave as to-day here in St. Peter's, on Holy-Thursday. It may be said\nto be carried out, too, on a larger scale and in a practical way,\nall these days in Rome. There is a large institution here called\n_La Santissima Trinit\u00e0 dei Pellegrini_, where, during Holy-Week,\nthousands of poor pilgrims, who have come on foot, and reach Rome\nweary and foot-sore, are received, and supplied with two meals a day\nand beds for three days and nights. There is one department for the\nmen, and another for the women and children. Each evening, after\nthe conclusion of the services in the churches, they return to the\ninstitution. Cardinals, bishops, priests, and laymen in numbers,\nnobles and private individuals, are there, and wash their feet\n(thoroughly) and wait on them at the table. In the female department\nprincesses, duchesses, and ladies of every degree and station,\ntitled and untitled, are there to perform the same offices for the\nwomen and children. All these ladies belong to several charitable\nconfraternities and associations in the city; and by one of their\nrules no one of them is allowed the privilege of uniting in this work\nin Holy-Week unless she has, during the past year, paid at least a\nstated number of charitable visits to the prisons and hospitals. We\ndo not know whether the men have the same admirable rule.\n\nAfter the washing of the feet in St. Peter's, the pope retired,\nand the pilgrims followed. The services in the church itself were\nover. But there was something else, which as many as could wished\nto see. The pope was to serve the pilgrims at table. In the large\nhall mentioned above as being situated over the vestibule of the\nchurch, and from which the pope went out to the loggia to give the\nblessing, a long table had been prepared and decorated. Soon the\npilgrims entered and stood at their places; and the hall was filled\nwith thousands of spectators. The pontiff came in, attended by three\nor four cardinals, his own attendants, and a number of bishops. He\nsaid the grace, and a monsignore read a portion of the Scriptures,\nand then continued to read a book of sermons. Meanwhile, the pope was\npassing to and fro, from one end of the table to the other, helping\neach one to soup, to fish, and to wine; and finally, giving them his\nspecial blessing, he retired. The services had commenced at nine A.M.\nIt was now two P.M.\n\nThe holy oils were blessed, not in St. Peter's, but in St. John\nLateran's; for St. Peter's is the cathedral of the pope as Pope and\nBishop of the Catholic Church. St. John's is his cathedral as Bishop\nof Rome.\n\nOn Friday morning the offices in St. Peter's were precisely the same\nas in every other cathedral, differing only in the presence of the\nsovereign pontiff and the cardinals, and the large number of bishops,\nwho attended robed in purple _cappa magna_. The \"Improperia,\" sung\nwhile the pope, the cardinals, and the bishops approached to kneel\nand kiss the cross, is accounted the master-piece of Palestrina.\nIt is unequalled in its expression of tenderness and of sorrowful\nreproach. Sung as it was by that unrivalled choir, on this day,\nwhen the church is desolate and stripped of all ornament, and the\nministers at the altar are robed in sombre black; when burning lights\nand the smoke of incense are banished from the sanctuary; when one\nthing only is presented--the image of the crucified Redeemer; one\ntheme only fills prayers, anthems, and hymns alike--the sorrows and\ndeath of our Lord on Calvary--its effect seemed overpowering. You\nthought not of the wondrous charm of the voices; you heeded not the\nantique melody or the skilful harmonies, as word after word, clearly\nand distinctly uttered, fell on your ear; the music but rendered\nmore clear and emphatic their sense as it sunk into your heart. You\nfelt that the reproaches of the loving and forgiving Saviour were\naddressed to you personally, and you bowed in sorrowful confusion as\nwell as in adoration, while you saluted him in the words of early\nChristian worship, AGIOS O THEOS.\n\nDuring the service, that portion of his Gospel in which St. John\nnarrates the history of the Passion, was chanted in the same manner\nas had been the narration by St. Matthew on the preceding Sunday.\nPrepared as all were, by the services of the days past and by the\nsublime \"Improperia\" we had just heard, words cannot express the\nawe which came on them as they listened to this vivid recitation in\nmusic of that grand drama of Good-Friday on the summit of Calvary.\nIt is on such occasions, and with singing like this, that one\nrealizes what force and truth and majesty there is in perfect music,\ninspired and consecrated by religion.\n\nOn Saturday, the bishops were divided between St. Peter's and St.\nJohn's. In the latter church, besides the usual services, there were\nalso the instruction of catechumens, the baptism of converts with\nthe form for grown persons, and at the mass a grand ordination, at\nwhich tonsure, all the minor orders, subdeaconship, deaconship, and\npriesthood were conferred on those who had been examined and found\nworthy of the grades to which they aspired. In all, they were about\nsixty.\n\nIn St. Peter's, the services were only the usual ones of the\nchurch for this day--the blessing of the font, the chanting of the\nprophecies, the blessing of the paschal candle, and the solemn\nhigh-mass celebrated by a cardinal. The pope was present. One would\nhave thought that, at his age, after the fatigues of the days past,\nand in view of the long functions of the morrow, it would be proper\nthat he should have one day of quiet, or at least of comparative\nquiet. But Pius IX. never thinks of sparing himself. Many of the\nbishops were at St. John's. But those who were in St. Peter's heard\nthe grand mass \"of Pope Marcellus,\" as it is called, by Palestrina.\nThis is the mass which was composed and sung in 1565, and which,\nit is said, won from the pope and cardinals the reversal of an\nabsolute prohibition they had almost determined on, of all music and\nsinging in church save the Gregorian chant, on account of the bad\ntaste and abuses of musicians and singers, who introduced profane\nand worldly music even into the mass. No one who heard those grand\nreligious choral strains could fail to see how solemnly, and fully,\nand appropriately they expressed in music the sublime character of\nthe service. Such music does not distract; on the contrary, it fixes\nthe thoughts, and soothes and guides the feelings into a channel of\ndevotion. It would have been impossible for the cardinals, after\nlistening to this exquisite mass, to arrive at a different conclusion.\n\nFrom Thursday until Saturday, all the bells of Rome had been silent.\nThere was a visible shade of sorrow on the city, a public grief,\nas it were, for the tragedy of Calvary. But in view of the joyous\nresurrection close at hand, this silence of sorrow is soon to pass\naway. It was near eleven A.M. when the high-mass commenced at St.\nPeter's. At the Gloria, a signal was given, and the gigantic Bourdon\nand the other bells of the basilica broke into a grand peal. The\nguns of St. Angelo answered, and, quick as sound could travel, all\nthe thousand bells of all the steeples and belfrys of Rome, without\nexception, joined in the clamorous yet not unpleasant or unmusical\nchorus. The rooks, and ravens, and doves, and swallows flew to\nand fro, frightened from their nests, half-stunned, and utterly\ndistracted. When the pealing chorus ended--and it lasted for a full\nhalf-hour--Rome had put off her sadness, and friends were exchanging\nthe happy salutations of Easter.\n\nIn the afternoon an Armenian bishop celebrated high-mass, according\nto their rite, at four P.M. in one church, and, at the same hour,\na Chaldean prelate celebrated high-mass, according to his rite, in\nanother. In the earlier centuries, this mass of the resurrection was\ncelebrated by all after midnight, on Saturday night. The Orientals\nhave brought it forward to Saturday afternoon; the Latins have\ngradually advanced it to the forenoon. Sunday dawned, a bright,\nclear, pleasant, cloudless Italian spring day. At an early hour\ncarriages of every kind were pouring in long lines over every bridge\nacross the Tiber, and hurrying on to St. Peter's, and tens of\nthousands were making their way thither on foot. By nine o'clock, the\nsanctuary is filled with bishops robed in white copes and mitres,\nand with cardinals in richly adorned white chasubles. Soon the Swiss\nGuard take their places, and the Noble Guard appear in their richest\nuniform. Lines of Pontifical Zouaves and the Legion of Antibes, and\nother soldiers, keep a lane open up the middle of the church, through\nthe immense crowd of, it was estimated, forty thousand persons, from\nthe door of the sanctuary. One tribune on the south side of the\nsanctuary was filled with members of various royal families now in\nRome, some on a visit, some staying here permanently. On the other\nside was a tribune for the diplomatic corps, which was filled with\nambassadors, ministers resident and envoys, in their rich uniforms\nand covered with jewelled decorations.\n\nA burst from the band of silver trumpets over the doorway of the\nchurch told us that the holy father was entering. Down the lane\nthrough the vast crowd might be seen the cross slowly advancing. Then\nwas heard the voice of the choir of the canons, welcoming the pontiff\nto the basilica, and then aloft, higher than the mass that filled the\nchurch, he was seen slowly borne on in the curule chair, robed in a\nrich cope of white silk, heavy with gold embroidery and wearing the\ntiara. Slowly advancing, and giving his blessing to the multitudes\non either side, he reached the chapel of the blessed sacrament,\ndescended from the chair, and, with the cardinals accompanying him,\nand his other attendants, knelt for some moments in adoration. Then,\nrising, he ascended the chair again, and the procession pursued its\nway through the crowd, now more closely packed than ever, to the\nsanctuary. Here the pontiff descended again to his robing throne at\nthe epistle side of the altar. The choir commence the chanting of the\npsalms of terce and sext. Meanwhile the pontiff was robed for mass,\nand the cardinals, the patriarchs, and primates, and a certain number\nof the archbishops and bishops, as representatives of their brethren,\npaid him the usual homage. This over, solemn high-mass commenced in\nthe usual form. After incensing the altar at the Introit, he passed\nto his regular throne at the end of the sanctuary, just opposite the\naltar, and fully one hundred and twenty feet distant. There beside\nhim stood a cardinal priest and two cardinal deacons; the senator\nof Rome, in his official robes and cloak of yellow and gold, with\nhis pages of similar costume, the _conservatori_ of the city; and\non the steps, around the throne, stood, or were seated, some twenty\nassistant bishops; on either side six lines of seats stretching\ndown to the altar were occupied by the cardinals and by a great\nmass of prelates, Latin and Oriental, all in the richest vestments\nappropriate to this the greatest festival of the church.\n\nNever was solemn high-mass celebrated with more splendor in St.\nPeter's than on this Easter-Sunday. To be privileged to assist at it\namply repays many a one for all the time and all the fatigue of a\njourney to Rome. The holy father officiates with a fervor and intense\ndevotion which lights up his countenance. The venerable Cardinal\nPatrizi, who stood by his side, was the very personification of\nsacerdotal dignity. The mitred prelates in their places, many of them\ngray-haired or bald, or bent with age and labors, seemed radiant\nwith the holy joy of the occasion. The masters of ceremony and the\nattendants moved gravely and reverently, as their duties called them\nfrom one part of the sanctuary to another. Even the vast crowd of\nforty or fifty thousand that filled the church were penetrated with\nreverent awe, and sank almost into perfect stillness. Nothing was\nheard save the noble voice of the sovereign pontiff chanting the\nprayers, and the responding strains of the choir. Yet, in comparison\nwith the music we had heard during the week, the Gloria and the\nCreed, super-excellent though they were, seemed in some measure to\nbelong to the earth. After the subdeacon had sung the epistle in\nLatin, a Greek subdeacon, in the robes of his Greek rite, sung it\nin Greek; and similarly a Greek deacon followed the Latin deacon in\nchanting the Gospel. A musical antiquarian would have found in the\npeculiar modulations of their chant traces of the ancient eastern\nstyle of music, going back, perhaps, in those unchanging people to\nthe days of Greek classic civilization. The most impressive moment\nin the mass was certainly the elevation. At a signal, you heard\nthe voice of the officers giving the command, and the thud on the\nfloor as the companies of soldiers simultaneously grounded arms,\nand every man sank on one knee. The Noble Guard, too, sank on one\nknee, uncovered their heads, and saluted with their bright swords.\nThe Swiss Guard stood erect and presented arms. In the sanctuary,\nof course, all were kneeling. There was a sound like the rushing of\na wind through a pine forest as the vast multitude strove to sink\ndown too. And then came a dead silence over all. As the pontiff\nraised aloft the sacred host, turning toward every quarter of the\nchurch, there came, faint, and soft, and solemn at first, and\ngradually stronger and more emphatic, the thrilling tones of those\nsilver trumpets placed over the doorway and out of sight. Their\nslow, majestic melody, and their rich accords, and the repeated and\nprolonged echoes of those notes of almost supernatural sweetness,\nfrom chapels and nave and dome, produced an effect that was\nmarvellously impressive. As if fascinated by them, no one moved from\nhis kneeling position, or even raised his head, until the last note\nof the strain and its receding echoes had died away, and the choir\nwent on to intone the \"Benedictus qui venit.\"\n\nAt the conclusion of the mass, the pope unrobed, put on his cope and\ntiara again, and retired in the same manner as he had entered. At\nonce the vast mass of people began to pour forth from St. Peter's,\nto make their way to the front; for the pope would soon give his\nsolemn benediction _urbi et orbi_--to Rome and to the world. We\nhave already described the square before St. Peter's. It is about\nfifteen hundred feet long, and averages nearly four hundred feet in\nbreadth. All during the mass it had been gradually filling up, and\nwhen now new torrents of men came pouring out of the church, the\nwhole place became so packed that one standing on the lofty colonnade\non the side of the Vatican and looking down on the square, perceived\nthat only here and there even small portions of the ground remained\nvisible, such was the closeness with which men and women stood packed\ntogether. Especially was this true on the vast esplanades more\nimmediately before the church, and the broad steps leading up to it.\nHere were gathered all who wished to be as near as possible to the\npope during the blessing, or to get a sight from this elevation of\nthe vast basin of the square thoroughly packed with human beings. Nor\nwas the multitude confined to the square alone; on the colonnades, on\neither hand, stood thousands and thousands, as in favored positions.\nEvery window and balcony looking out on the square was thronged.\nEvery roof had its group, and away down the two streets leading up\nthe square from the bridge of St. Angelo the crowd appeared equally\ndense. A military man present, whose experience had qualified him\nto estimate large masses, judged that there were present at least\none hundred and twenty thousand persons. Mingling among them, you\nheard every language of Europe, many of Asia, and, it was said, half\na dozen from Africa. It was a representation of the world which the\npontiff would bless. From all this multitude, standing in the bright\nsunlight, which a north wind rendered not disagreeable, came up a\nroar, as it were, of rushing waters, mingling the hum of so many\nvoices with the blaring of an occasional military trumpet from the\ntroops, and the neighing of horses.\n\nSoon the regimental bands are heard to salute the approach of his\nholiness, invisible as yet to the crowd. A score of mitred prelates\nappear at the large Balcony of the Blessing. They look out in wonder\nand admiration at the scene below, and retire to allow another score\nto view it; a third group does the same. These are the bishops who\nhave accompanied the pope from the sanctuary to the Vatican, and from\nthe Vatican hither. Of the others, some are down on the square with\nthe people, more are on the colonnades, in places reserved for them.\nAfter the bishops, the cardinals are seen to fill the balcony once\nor twice, and then the pontiff himself comes in view, borne forward\non his curule chair. He is out on the loggia itself. Ordinarily,\nbesides the ornamental drapery which we see decorating the columns\nand architrave and tympanum, and the railing in front, there projects\noverhead a large awning to screen him from the sun. But to-day the\nnorth wind does not allow it to stand. Fortunately, the weather\nhardly calls for it. He is scarcely inconvenienced by the rays of the\nsun as they are reflected from his rich gold-cloth mitre, studded\nwith precious stones, and from the massive gold embroidery of his\ncope. The military music has ceased, and there is the silence of awe\nand of earnest expectation. Those that are near hear the tones of\nsome one chanting the Confiteor beside the pontiff. Two bishops hold\nthe large missal from which he chants the prayers in a clear, rotund,\nand musical voice. The people are kneeling, and twice is heard the\nresponse of united thousands--_Amen_. The book is laid aside. The\npontiff rises and stands erect, looks up to heaven, and, with a\nmajestic sweeping motion, opens wide his arms and invokes on all the\nblessing of heaven. His voice is given forth in its very fullest\npower, and even at the furthermost end of the square the kneeling\ncrowd sign themselves with the sign of the cross as they distinctly\nhear the words: \"_Benedictio Dei omnipotentis, Patris, et Filii,\net Spiritus Sancti, descendat super vos et maneat semper.\" May the\nblessing of Almighty God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost,\ndescend upon you and abide with you for ever._ And there came up a\nswelling _Amen_. As the pontiff sank back on his chair, the kneeling\ncrowd arose, and there burst forth from every portion of it a loud\nacclaim of _vivas_, of good wishes, of acclamations, that died away\nonly as the pontiff retired from view, and as the cannon of St.\nAngelo commenced the national salute.\n\nIt was a ceremony fitted by its majesty and its magnificence to\nclose the grand ceremonies of Easter-Week. Art cannot do justice to\nit. Painting, tied down by the laws of perspective, cannot portray\nwhat the eye sees on every side, and does not pretend to give the\nwords of solemn prayer, of impressive benediction, and the outburst\nof acclamation which we heard. Words must fail to convey the\nemotions that filled thousands of hearts that day, at the sublime\nand moving spectacle. It was a sensible testimony of the holiness,\nthe authority, and the unity of the church of Christ, a testimony to\nwhich not even an unbeliever, if present, could remain indifferent.\n\nIt took nearly two hours for that crowd to depart. The cardinals,\nroyalty, the nobles, and many of the bishops in carriages, made their\nway, at a snail's pace, along the streets leading to the old Roman\nElian Bridge across the Tiber, now known as the Bridge of St. Angelo.\nThey could scarcely get on as fast as the foot passengers that filled\nthe street on either side up to the very wheels of the single line\nof carriages allowed. Others, more in a hurry, went out by the Porta\nAngelica, so as to cross the Tiber at the Ponte Molle, two miles\nnorth of the city, and then re\u00ebnter by the Porta del Popolo; and\nothers again turned southward, following the streets along the river,\nand crossing it at the suspension bridge, or at some of the bridges\nlower down. And so, within two hours, all reached their homes without\na single accident, without a single quarrel, without a single call\nfor the interference of the police.\n\nBut it was for many of them only to return within a few hours. On\nEaster-Sunday evening occurs the grand illumination of the fa\u00e7ade\nand dome of St. Peter's. As the shades of evening fell on the city,\nsilvery lights began to mark the lofty cross, and to glow along\nthe huge ribs of the mighty dome, and to map out the lines of\nthe windows and doors, the columns, and cornices, and tympanums,\nand architectural ornaments and projections, to illuminate the\nclock-faces and the coats of arms above them, to sparkle along the\nminor domes, and to stretch away on either side in regular lines\nalong each colonnade, diffusing everywhere a gentle light, and\nbringing into prominence, with a fairy-like witchery, all the lines\nof the pile before you. There are about five thousand two hundred\nof these lights. They are made of broad shallow plates of metal or\nearthenware, containing a certain amount of prepared tallow and\na lighted wick, and surrounded by a cylinder of paper, colored\nand figured. From this lantern, as it may be called, the light\ncomes diffused, subdued, and white; hence the Romans call this the\n_silver_ illumination. The square was filled, though by no means as\nin the morning, with crowds looking, wondering, and admiring. At a\nquarter past eight, the large bell of St. Peter's began to chime.\nAs the very first stroke came to our ears, a tiny blaze was seen to\ndart up a guiding wire to the top of the lofty cross, and a clear\nbright flame burst forth, glowed on the summit; downward the tiny\nflame flew, lighting two others on each arm of the cross, and then\ndownward lighting still others along the stem. Invisible hands caused\nother such little flames to flit rapidly hither and thither, like\nglow-moths, all along the dome, the front, and both colonnades around\nthe square. Wherever they seemed to alight for an instant, there a\nbright flame sprung into existence. In just twenty-three seconds,\nand long before the clock had half struck the hour, eight hundred\nof those bright yellow flames had almost eclipsed the first ones,\nand the building stood forth in the _golden_ illumination. It was a\nsight, once seen, never to be forgotten. Whoever first conceived the\nidea of this instantaneous change of illumination was a poet in the\ntruest sense of the word.\n\nOn Easter-Monday evening, the festive celebrations were continued by\ngiving the _Girandola_, or exhibition of fireworks on Monte Pincio.\nOn entering Rome from the north, by the Porta del Popolo, as before\nthe days of the railways the great majority of travellers did, you\nfind yourself at once in a large oval square, called the Piazza del\nPopolo, in the centre of which stands an ancient Egyptian obelisk,\nits base surrounded by modern Egyptian lions and fountains. On the\nsouth side, three streets radiate into the heart of the city. For a\nwonder, they are straight; you may look down the central one, the\nCorso, for full three quarters of a mile. Massive palatial buildings\nstand around this square; to the west there rises a line of lofty\nevergreen cypresses, near the Tiber. Through the interstices of their\nbranches and dark foliage you may catch glimpses of St. Peter's. On\nthe east rises the Pincian Hill, the _Mons Hortulanus_ of the olden\nRomans, then outside and to the north of the city, now within its\nwalls, and forming its beautiful promenade. The hill is about one\nhundred and fifty feet high, and toward the square is quite steep.\nBroad carriage-ways, sweeping from right to left, in zigzag courses,\ngive access from the square to the promenade above; and immense walls\nof masonry, with arches and porticos, and columns, rising in stories,\nback of and above each other, prevent any landslides, and give an\narchitectural finish to the whole hill-face which the trees and\nexotic plants growing in the spaces between only embellish and do not\nmar.\n\nFor ten days before Easter-Monday, the public had been excluded\nfrom the promenade. As they passed through the square, they could\nsee a lofty scaffolding in the process of erection on the brow of\nthe hill, and other scaffolding interlacing with the architecture\nof its side. The opposite oval curve of the square was occupied by\na line of covered galleries of wood erected for the occasion. On\nthis Monday night, the air was balmy, the sky clear but moonless.\nAt least twenty-five thousand spectators stood in the square. The\nRoman municipality had assigned the galleries to the bishops and\nsome thousands of other invited guests. Four military bands whiled\naway the time of expectation with sweet music. At last the appointed\nhour struck on a neighboring church clock, and a rocket shot up into\nthe air, the sound of its explosion was re\u00ebchoed from the mouth of\na cannon; and the pyrotechnic display at once commenced. The art of\npyrotechnics has been cultivated at Rome with more skill and good\ntaste than in any other city of Europe. We might, indeed, expect this\nfrom a people trained as no other is to recognize and appreciate\nthe beautiful and fitting in form and color. The grand features\nand characteristics of those displays were settled centuries ago.\nThey say that Michael Angelo himself did much toward perfecting\nthem. On each occasion some able artist gives the specialties to be\nintroduced, always in subservience to those general principles. This\nyear, the plan was given by the distinguished architect Vespiniani.\nAt one time, the entire face of the hill and the scaffolding was\nablaze with lines of variegated light, representing a vast mass of\nbuildings with towers and cupola, and gigantic gateways, on which\nthere streamed down from above continuous beams of still brighter\nand purer light. In the distance stood the figure of an apostle,\nand by him an angel with outstretched arm; and we understood that\nwe were looking at the celestial Jerusalem, revealed in vision to\nthe apostle in Patmos. We marked the gates of precious stones,\nperfectly represented by the various hues of fire, and the foundation\nstones bearing in letters of light the names of the apostles. Too\nsoon it seemed to fade away, but only to be renewed with change of\ncolors. For a while we might still study it. Again it faded, again\nwas renewed with still another exquisite arrangement of colors, and\nthen faded away into darkness. Then figure after figure burst out\nafterward, without any delay or tedious waiting. At one time, a\ngigantic volcano, amid the booming of cannon that caused the ground\nto tremble beneath the foot, belched forth thousands of burning\nrockets, which ascended in streaks of fire and burst over head,\nseeming to fill the sky with myriads and myriads of many-colored\nfalling stars. At another, the whole hill-side stood before us as a\ngroup of majestic triumphal arches, decorated with immense wreaths\nof roses, lilies, dahlias, and bright-colored flowers. In a niche\nwas seen the bust of the pontiff surrounded by a brilliant frame,\nand below we read the inscription, in which _Senatus Populusque\nRomarins_, the municipal authorities of the city, offered to Pius\nIX. their homage and congratulations on the near approach of the\ntwenty-fifth year of his pontificate. All the minor devices of\npyrotechnics, of course, abounded. When, after three quarters of\nan hour, the brilliant and almost continuous display seemed to be\nclosed, a little fiery messenger started from the hill-side, on an\ninvisible wire, to the summit of the obelisk in the centre of the\nsquare, and lighted a bright flame on its point. Soon lines of flame\ndecorated its sides. From its base ten little messengers started out,\nnot very far over the heads of the people, reaching as many pillars\naround the square, and lighting up simultaneously ten bright Bengal\nlights. It was as if day had come back to us. The lights on the\npillars changed from white to purple and red, and other messengers,\nthis time seemingly still nearer the heads, rushed madly back to\nthe central obelisk and clothed that too in many-colored fire. At\nlast, from obelisk and pillars alike shot up rocket after rocket,\nbursting loudly in the air, and for the last time casting their\nbright hues of white, and scarlet, and orange, and green, and purple\non the hill-side, the palaces and hotels around, and on the crowd\nbeneath in the square. All was over, and at an early hour the mighty\nmass was slowly moving like living torrents down the three streets\nleading from the square into the city. So great was the crowd that\nit was full half an hour before the careful police would allow the\ncarriages, which filled the by-streets in the neighborhood, to enter\nthose thoroughfares. Gorgeous and artistic as the spectacle was, it\nhad not cost beyond a thousand dollars.\n\nOn Tuesday, the fathers were at work again. A general congregation\nwas held, as usual. The last speeches were spoken, the last\nexplanations were heard; the last touches were given to the _schema_,\nand the last vote was taken, and every thing was ready to declare\nand promulgate the _schema_, as a dogmatic constitution or decree of\nfaith, in the next public session, which, it was announced, would be\nheld on Low-Sunday.\n\nThe _Girandola_ on Monday night was the celebration of the municipal\nauthorities. On Wednesday night, the people had theirs--a general\nillumination of the city. The proper day would have been April 12th,\nthe anniversary of the pope's return from Gaeta, and also of his\nwondrous escape from all injury in an accident by the falling of\na floor at St. Agnes, outside the walls, something like the late\ndisastrous one in the capital at Richmond. Though many were injured,\ncardinals, priests, and laymen, none, we believed, were killed.\nBut the chair in which the pontiff was seated came down with him\nthrough the breaking floor without even being overturned, and he was\npreserved from even the slightest shock. Since then, he ever keeps\nthat day religiously sacred, and the Romans have fallen into the\ncustom of celebrating it by a general illumination of the city. This\nyear, as the day fell in Holy-Week, the celebration was put off until\nthe 20th of April, Wednesday in Easter-Week.\n\nEach householder illuminated his own building with lines of\n_lampioni_, as they call the plates of earthenware or metal, filled\nwith tallow and a lighted wick, and surrounded by a cylindrical\nscreen of colored paper, through which the light shines as a huge\ndiamond. The wealthier ones affected some ornamental design in a\nprofuser arrangement of such lights. Some used multitudinous cups\nof colored glass, holding oil, and a lighted taper swimming in it.\nIn each parish, the inhabitants clubbed together to erect one or\nmore special designs of superior artistic taste and brilliancy. The\ncity was all aglow; nobody save the sick staid at home; the streets\nwere filled with streams of people all moving in the same direction;\nfor some one had, with happy thoughtfulness, got up an itinerary or\nroute guide through the city, and all seemed to follow it. It took\nthree hours to walk through the choice parts of the fairy scene,\nif you went on foot; and more, if you took a carriage. The lines of\nmellow light, faintly shining from windows and cornices along all\nthe buildings, even the poorest, in the narrowest, and darkest, and\ncrookedest streets of Rome, broken occasionally by a brighter burst\nfrom the doorway of some shop well illuminated in the interior; the\nblaze that rose from the lights more numerous and brighter in the\nsquares, or shone from the fronts of wealthier and larger houses\nand palaces, from the arches of triumph, and from the temples of\nGothic or classic style, constructed of wood and canvas, but to which\npainting and colored lights lent for the hour a fairy beauty like\nthat of Aladdin's palace; every thing united to charm, to dazzle, and\nto bewilder the spectator. The pope had gone that afternoon as usual\nto St. Agnes, to be present at a Te Deum for his escape, and returned\nonly after night-fall. As he reached the square of St. Peter's, a\nnumber of rockets shot up into the air, and burst into a thousand\nstars of every hue. It was a signal. Instantaneously the colonnades\non either side and the front of the church were all lighted up with\nBengal fires. The columns in front and the walls glowed in a white or\ngolden light; the interior recesses were made mysterious in a rich\npurple. After a few moments, the tints were interchanged; the bright\npurple light was in front, and seemed to change the buff travertino\ninto alabaster and precious marbles, and the trembling tints of\nwhite and light gold within imparted a supernatural beauty to the\ninterior recesses. Change followed change, until the pope, amid the\nenthusiastic acclamations of the vast crowd, moved on, and at last\ndisappeared in the rear of St. Peter's, to reach the grand gateway\nof the Vatican palace. The crowd too passed elsewhere, to wander\nalong streets converted into arcades, roofed by lines of soft and\nmany-colored lights; to admire the triumphal arches, where in niches\nthe Saviour stood as \"the way, the truth, and the life,\" attended\nby the Evangelists or the Blessed Virgin Mother, to whom David and\nIsaiah bore testimony; to look on the cross of jewelled light shining\nin the dark recesses of the front of the Pantheon, or to examine and\ncriticise the temples of light at the Minerva, the Santi Apostoli,\nor Monticilorio; to rest themselves at times, listening to the music\nof the bands, which ever and anon they encountered; to look with\ndelight on the illuminated steamers and barges on the river, bearing\n(for the nonce) the flags of every Christian nation, and to study\nthe play of light reflected on the rippling surface of old Father\nTiber; to wonder at the obelisks converted into columns of fire, or\nthe grand stairway of Trinit\u00e0 di Monte, made a mountain of light, and\na glorious grand stairway seeming to reach the heavens, or to watch\nthe changing colors of Bengal fires, illuming the statues of old\nNeptune and his tritons and sea-horses, and the wild cavernous rocks\nand dashing waters of the exquisite fountain of Trevi; or, after all,\nto stroll through some square, where yellow gravelly walks led you\nbetween beds of green herbage, where tiny fountains were bubbling,\nwhere trees were laden with fruits of light, and where flowers filled\nthe air with sweet perfumes. All Rome was in the streets, and in\ntheir orderly, calm, and dignified way enjoyed the scene hugely. Not\na loud voice or an angry word was heard, not the slightest symptom of\nintoxication was seen. Everywhere the hum of pleasant talk of friends\nand family groups arose, made sparkling and brilliant to the ear,\nrather than interrupted, by the low but hearty and silvery laughs of\nmen, of women, and of delighted children. The Romans were out, all\nin their best apparel; and not they alone, but thousands from the\nvillages of the campagnas and the neighboring mountains, in their\nbright colors and quaint medi\u00e6val traditional costumes. All these\nwere a study to the sixty thousand visitors then passing through\nthe streets of Rome, not less interesting and instructive than the\ngorgeous illumination itself. Among those sixty thousand strangers\nthere was but one decision--that nowhere else in Europe could there\nbe an illumination so spontaneous, so general, so perfectly artistic,\nso exquisitely beautiful and grand as this was, and nowhere else\ncould such a vast crowd walk these narrow streets for hours with such\nperfect order, such good humor, and such universal courtesy.\n\nThere were other celebrations during these two weeks, both\necclesiastical and social, but it will suffice to have spoken of the\nchief ones. The repositories or sepulchres of Holy-Thursday evening,\nthe services of the three hours' agony in many churches about noon on\nGood-Friday, and the sermons and way of the cross in the ruins of the\nColosseum, the scene of so many martyrdoms, on Good-Friday afternoon,\nwould all deserve special mention; but we have not the space, and\nmust pass on to the third public session of the Vatican Council.\n\nThis, as we have already stated, was fixed for Sunday, April\n26th--Low-Sunday. At nine A.M., the cardinals, patriarchs, primates,\narchbishops, bishops, mitred abbots, and superiors of religious\norders were in their places. The council hall had been restored\nto the original form in which we had seen it on the day of the\nopening. All the changes to fit it for the discussions of the general\ncongregations were removed. The Noble Guard and the Knights of Malta\nwere on duty as custodians of the assembly. Cardinal Bilio celebrated\na pontifical high-mass, as had been done in each of the previous\nsessions. At its termination, the Gospel was enthroned on the altar.\nThe holy father intoned the \"Veni Creator Spiritus,\" and the choir\nand united assembly of prelates sung the strophes alternately to the\nconclusion of that sublime hymn. The pontiff chanted the opening\nprayers, and all knelt when the litany of the saints was intoned in\nthe varied and well-known antique melodies of Gregorian chant. At the\nproper place, the pontiff chanted the special supplications for a\nblessing on the council, and the chanters and the assembly, and, in\nfact, thousands of the audience, joined in the swelling responses.\nThe effect seemed even to surpass that which we described in our\nfirst article, giving an account of the opening of the council. Other\nprayers followed, prescribed by the ritual. At their conclusion, the\nspecial work of this session commenced.\n\nAccording to the olden time ritual of councils, all in the hall, not\nbelonging strictly to the council, should at this point be sent away,\nand the gates should be closed, that in their voting the fathers\nmight be free from all outside influence, and each might speak his\nmind, unswayed by fear or favor. But if, in stormier times, when\nclamorous mobs might invade a council hall, such precautions were\nnecessary, here, to-day, they are certainly unnecessary. There is\nno need to close the wide portals against these thousands and tens\nof thousands who have gathered to look with reverence and rapture\non this venerable assembly. Let the doors then stand open to their\nwidest extent, that all may see.\n\nAnd it was a scene worth coming, as many had done, across oceans and\nmountains to look on. The pillars and walls of the noble hall were\nrich with appropriate paintings, with mosaics, and statuary, and\nmarbles. At the furthest end, on his elevated seat, sat the venerated\nsovereign pontiff, bearing on his head a precious mitre, glittering\nwith jewels, and wearing a cope rich with massive golden embroidery.\nOn either hand sat the venerable cardinals, arrayed in white mitres,\nand wearing their richest robes of office. In front of them sat the\npatriarchs, mostly easterns, in the rich and bright-colored robes of\ntheir respective rites, and wearing tiaras radiant with brilliants\nand jewelry. Down either side of the hall ran the manifold lines of\nprimates, archbishops, bishops, and other prelates, all in white\nmitres, and in copes of red lama; all save the oriental prelates, who\nwear many-colored copes and vestments, and rich tiaras, ever catching\nthe eye of the spectator as they sat scattered here and there in that\ncrowd, and excepting also the heads of religious orders, who wear\neach his appropriate dress of white, or of black, or of brown, or\nmingle these colors together. The contrast and play of various colors\nin all these vestments give a brilliancy to the whole scene, much\nbeyond what the uniform white of the first two sessions had yielded.\n\nBut what mattered the color of their vestments, when one considered\nthe venerable forms of the bishops themselves. They sat still, and\nalmost as motionless as so many marble statues. Now and then some\naged prelate, with bald head and snow-white locks, would lay aside\nfor a few moments the heavy mitre, that perhaps was pressing his aged\nbrows too heavily. All else seemed motionless. Their countenances,\ncomposed and thoughtful, told how thoroughly they, at least, were\nimpressed with the importance and the solemnity of their work.\n\nIn the middle stood the altar, rich and simple, on which lay\nenthroned the open book of the Gospels. Near by stood the light and\nlofty pulpit of dark wood.\n\nInto this pulpit now ascended Monsignor Valenziani, Bishop of\nFabriano and Matelica, one of the assistant secretaries, and in a\nvoice remarkable for its strength and distinctness, and not less so\nfor its endurance, read with most appropriate emphasis, and with\nthe musical intonations of a cultivated Italian voice, the entire\n_Dogmatic Constitution_, from the beginning to the end. It occupied\njust three quarters of an hour.\n\nAt the conclusion he asked, \"Most eminent and most reverend\nfathers, do you approve of the canons and decrees contained in this\nconstitution?\"\n\nHe descended from the pulpit, and Monsignor Jacobini, another\nassistant secretary took his place, to call for the votes of the\nfathers, one by one.\n\n\"The Most Eminent Constantine Cardinal Patrizi, Bishop of Porto and\nSanta Rufina!\"\n\nThe venerable cardinal arose in his place. We heard his answer,\nPLACET;--_I approve_. An usher standing near him repeated, _Placet_;\na second one on the right hand side repeated, _Placet_; a third on\nthe other side repeated aloud, _Placet_.\n\n\"The Most Eminent Aloysius Cardinal Amat, Bishop of Palestrina!\" The\naged cardinal rose slowly, and in a feeble voice replied, PLACET. And\nfrom the ushers again we heard echoing through the hall, _Placet!\nPlacet! Placet!_\n\nThus there could be no mistake as to the vote, and not only the\nnotaries but all who wished could keep a correct tally.\n\nCardinal after cardinal was thus called in order and voted; then the\npatriarchs, each one of whom, rising, declared his vote, and the\nushers repeated it loudly. _Placet! Placet! Placet!_\n\nThen on through the primates, the archbishops, and bishops, the\nmitred abbots, and the heads of religious orders, admitted to\nthe right of suffrage. Where a vote was given, the three ushers\ninvariably repeated it. Sometimes when a name was called the answer\nwas given, ABEST--_he is absent_. In all, six hundred and sixty-seven\nvotes were cast, all of them in approval, not a single one in the\nnegative. Not a few of the bishops had obtained leave to go to their\ndioceses for the Holy-Week and the Easter festivities, and had not\nyet been able to return to the council. We knew of one who, after\ntwo weeks of hard work at home, had travelled all Saturday night, on\nthe train, and had reached Rome only at nine A.M. Sunday morning. He\nhad at once said mass privately in the nearest convenient chapel,\nand, without waiting for even the slightest refreshment, had hurried\nto St. Peter's, that he might take his place among his brethren and\nrecord his \"_Placet_.\" The whole form of voting occupied about two\nhours. It was, in truth, a solemn and most impressive scene. There\nwas a pause at the end, while the notaries counted up the votes, and\ndeclared the result. This done, the pope spoke aloud, \"_The canons\nand decrees contained in this constitution, having been approved\nby all the fathers, without a single dissentient, we, with the\napprobation of this holy council, define them, as they have been\nread, and by our apostolic authority we confirm them_.\" It was the\nofficial sanction sealing their force and truth.\n\nThe pontiff paused for a moment, evidently struggling with the\nemotions of his heart, and then continued in an impromptu address in\nLatin, which we caught as follows:\n\n    \"Most reverend brethren, you see how good and sweet it is to\n    walk together in agreement in the house of the Lord. Walk thus\n    ever; and as our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ on this day said\n    to his apostles, PEACE, I, his unworthy vicar, say unto you in\n    his name, PEACE. Peace, as you know, casteth but fear. Peace,\n    as you know, closes our ears to words of evil. May that peace\n    accompany you all the days of your life. May it console you and\n    give you strength in death. May it be to you everlasting joy in\n    heaven.\"\n\nThe bishops were moved, many of them to tears, by the dignity and the\npaternal affection with which the simple words came from his heart.\nHe was himself deeply moved.\n\nOther prayers were chanted. The pontifical blessing was given,\nand the pope intoned the Te Deum. The choir, the bishops, and the\nthousands of priests and laity in the church, who had looked on this\nsolemn act of the church just executed, joined in with their whole\nheart and soul, and swelled the grand Ambrosian melody, making it\nroll throughout the church, and calling echoes from every chapel and\narch, from nave and transept and dome. And with this concordant song\nof gratitude to God, the third session of the Vatican Council was\nappropriately closed.\n\nThe pontiff departed, accompanied by some of the cardinals, by the\nsenator and _conservatori_ of Rome, the masters-at-arms of the\ncouncil, and the attendants of his pontifical household. Soon the\ncardinals and prelates moved slowly from the council hall into the\nvast church, unrobed in a chapel set apart for the purpose, and\nwended their way homeward, and the third public session of the\ncouncil was over.\n\nWe were able, in our last number, to present to our readers the\noriginal text, in Latin, of the constitution promulgated in this\nsession, and also a correct translation of it in English. It will\nbe seen on examining the subjects treated of, and by the absolute\nunanimity of the votes given, how far astray \"our own correspondents\"\nwere, both as to the matters under discussion in the council, and as\nto the divisions which they imagined to exist among the fathers.\n\nSince Low-Sunday, the general congregations have resumed their\nsittings, and the committees on matters of faith and on matters\nof discipline have been busily engaged. Matters from the latter\ncommittee have already been rediscussed, and some preliminary votes\nhave been taken. It is understood that ere long the committee on\nmatters of faith will report back to the general congregation another\n_schema_ on the church, in the course of which the question of the\ninfallibility of the pope, of which so much has been written and\nsaid, will at last come formally before the council. Should this be\nthe case, we may be sure the whole subject will be examined with\nthe care and research which its importance requires, and which the\ndignity and the learning of the fathers demand. The result will be\nthat decision to which the Holy Spirit of truth will guide them.\n\nROME, May 8, 1870.\n\nNOTE.--We may add to this announcement of our correspondent, that the\ndiscussion of the _schema_ on infallibility was begun on the 10th of\nMay, and is expected to be finished before the 29th of June.\n\n\n\n\nNEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n\n    AN AMERICAN POLITICAL ECONOMY; INCLUDING STRICTURES ON THE\n    MANAGEMENT OF THE FINANCES SINCE 1861. With a chart showing the\n    fluctuations in the price of gold. By Francis Bowen, Professor\n    of Natural Religion, Moral Philosophy, and Civil Polity in\n    Harvard College. New York: Scribner & Co. 1870. 16mo, pp. 495.\n\nWe took up this book with an old prejudice against the author of\nsome thirty years standing, as well as with an inveterate dislike to\nalmost all works on political economy, which it has ever been our\nmisfortune to read; but we have been pleased and instructed by it.\nProfessor Bowen is not a philosopher; has not, properly speaking, a\nscientific mind; but he has great practical good sense, and a wide,\nand we should say a thorough, acquaintance with the facts of his\nsubject, and the ability to set them forth in a clear and strong\nlight. He is no system-monger, is wedded to no system of his own, and\naims to look at facts as they are. It is a great merit of his book\nthat it recognizes that each country should have its own political\neconomy growing out of and adapted to its peculiar wants and\ncircumstances. Free-trade or protection may be for the interest of\none country and not for another, and no universal rule as to either\ncan be laid down.\n\nThe author, a follower of John Locke in philosophy, is of course not\ngood at definitions, and his definition of wealth is rather clumsy,\nbut he contrives as he proceeds to tell us what it is. All wealth\nis the product of labor, and a man is wealthy just in proportion\nto his ability to purchase or command the labor of others. Hence\nthe absurdity of those theorists who demand an equal division of\nproperty or an equality of wealth, as well as of the legislation that\nseeks to ameliorate the condition of the poor by making them rich,\nor furnishing them with facilities for becoming rich. If all were\nwealthy, all would be poor; for then no one would sell his labor;\nand if no one would sell his labor, no one could buy labor, and then\nevery man would be reduced to the necessity of doing every thing for\nhimself. All men have equal natural rights as men, and this is all\nthe equality that is practicable or desirable.\n\nThe reader will find the professor has treated the question of\nbanks with rare lucidity, as also that of paper money, and even\nmoney itself. But the portion of his work that most interests us\nis his strictures on the management of our national finances since\n1861, and especially Mr. Secretary Chase's pet scheme of national\nbanks. According to his showing, it would exceed the wit of man to\ninvent and follow a more ruinous financial policy than that pursued\nby the national administration since the inauguration of the late\nMr. Lincoln as President. He shows that the Northern States could\nhave met and actually did pay enough during the civil war to meet\nall the expenses of the war without contracting a cent of debt, and\nconsequently the two or three thousand millions of dollars' debt\nactually contracted was solely due to our national financiers. There\nnever was any need of resorting to any thing more than temporary\nnational loans if the government had had in the beginning the wisdom\nor the courage, or indeed the confidence in the people, to adopt the\nscale of taxation subsequently adopted. There never was any need of\ncompelling the banks to suspend specie payments, or for it to issue\nlegal-tender notes, but what was created by its own blunders. The\npeople could have paid as they went for the war, and been richer at\nits close than at its beginning.\n\nAs if creating paper money for all purposes except customs dues,\ndemeritizing gold and silver, depreciating the currency, and\nenormously inflating the prices of all commodities, was not enough,\nit must needs create the national banks, and make them a free gift\nof $300,000,000 of circulation, and that without the least relief to\nthe government, but to its great embarrassment, still more inflating\nthe currency, and running up gold to a premium of 285. Even since the\nwar it continues its blunders, and does all in its power to increase\nthe burdens of the people. It seems from the first to have proceeded\non the principle of securing the support of the people by enabling\nindividuals to amass huge fortunes at the public expense. Why, if it\nmust have national banks, need it make them banks of circulation?\nWhy not compel them to bank on its own legal tenders instead of\ntheir own notes, and thus save to itself the profits on $300,000,000\nof circulation? It would have run no risk it does not now run; for\nthe treasury is responsible for the redemption of the notes of\nthe national banks, and the security it holds from them would be\nperfectly illusory in any monetary crisis. But we have no room to\nproceed. We, however, recommend this part of the work to the serious\nconsideration of our national financiers. There are in political\neconomy deeper problems than Professor Bowen has grasped; but upon\nthe whole, he has given us the most sensible work on the subject that\nwe are acquainted with.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    THE DAY SANCTIFIED. Being Meditations and Spiritual Readings\n    for daily use. London: Burns, Oates & Co. 1870. Pp. 318. For\n    sale by the Catholic Publication Society, 9 Warren Street, New\n    York.\n\nThis volume consists of a series of meditations drawn from the Holy\nScripture and modern spiritual writers. It is not, however, a book\ncontaining meditations for the entire year, as one would be led to\nimagine from its title. The number of meditations is only ninety. So\nit is supposed--and the plan is a good one--that the subjects will be\nselected according to each one's devotion. A word may very fitly be\nsaid in praise of the composition of these spiritual readings. They\nappear to be really addressed to the reader. Moreover, they contain\nno foolish exaggerations. These two merits are not unfrequently\nwanting in books of meditations. The present volume relates to the\nduties and doctrines of our holy faith. Another series is promised,\nwhich will contain suitable meditations for the ecclesiastical year,\nand the feasts of the Blessed Virgin and the saints.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    C\u00c6SAR'S COMMENTARIES ON THE GALLIC WAR. With Notes, Dictionary,\n    and Map. By Albert Harkness, LL.D., Professor in Brown\n    University. New York: D. Appleton & Co.\n\nThis edition of C\u00e6sar's _Commentaries_ is altogether the best we\nremember to have seen. Besides the advantage of a copious and\naccurate dictionary, the notes are ample without being extravagant.\nThere is an introductory sketch of the great Roman's life, which is\ninteresting, and the map of Gaul is excellent.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    REFLECTIONS AND PRAYERS FOR HOLY COMMUNION. London: Burns,\n    Oates & Co. 1869. Pp. 498. New York: For sale by the Catholic\n    Publication Society, 9 Warren Street.\n\nWhen Archbishop Manning says that \"this volume is a valuable addition\nto our books of devotion,\" it needs no further recommendation.\nBut, in addition to his opinion, it comes to us sanctioned by the\napprobation of the Archbishop of Lyons, and the Bishops of Aix,\nNancy, and Redez. Still, we will not forbear to give it our mite\nof praise. The book abounds in beautiful methods of learning to\nlove Jesus in his sacrament of love. Yet the meditations are not\nmerely beautiful, they are also very practical. In our reading,\nwe have never met so touching and so useful a thanksgiving, after\ncommunion, as the exercise which, in this volume, is called \"The Hem\nof our Lord's Garment.\" If good use is made of the suggestions and\nreflections in these pages, they will certainly accomplish their\nauthor's intention of \"gently drawing the soul entirely to our Lord.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    A TREATISE ON THE CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE OF MARRIAGE. By Hugh Davey\n    Evans, LL.D. With a Biographical Sketch of the Author, etc. New\n    York: Hurd & Houghton. 1870.\n\nDr. Evans was a friend of ours in days long gone by, and we used\nfrequently to contribute articles to the magazine which he edited,\none of which, entitled \"Dissent and Semi-Dissent,\" has been\nincorrectly attributed to him by his biographer. We have always\ncherished a sentiment of respect for the quaint and learned old\ngentleman, whose portrait has been drawn in the brief biographical\nsketch prefixed to this volume with singular fidelity and accuracy.\nDr. Evans was a regular old-fashioned High-Churchman, after the\nmodel of Hooker and Wilson, and consequently imbued with many\nsoundly Catholic principles and sentiments, mixed up with many other\nincongruous English and Protestant prejudices. In the work before\nus, he has with masterly learning and ability defended the Christian\ndoctrine of marriage in a manner which is in the greater number of\nessential respects sound and satisfactory. Unfortunately, having\nonly his own individual judgment as his tribunal of last resort\nin defining Catholic doctrine, instead of councils and popes, he\nhas sanctioned one most fatal error, the lawfulness of divorces _a\nvinculo_, and subsequent remarriage, in the case of adultery on\nthe part of the wife. We are glad to see that his editor dissents\nfrom him in this respect, and has republished the admirable little\ntreatise of Bishop Andrews sustaining the opposite side of the\nquestion. It is a wonder that any person can fail to see how utterly\nworthless is any pretended church authority which leaves such an\nessential matter as this open to dispute. We are glad to see works\ncirculated among Protestants which advocate any sound principles\non this subject, even though they are incomplete. They have much\nmore influence than the works of Catholic authors; they form a\n\"serviceable breakwater\" to the inflowing tide of corruption, and\nprepare the way for the eventual triumph of the Catholic doctrine and\nlaw, which alone can save society from dissolution. The _Atlantic\nMonthly_, which is the favorite magazine of a very large class of the\nmost highly cultivated minds in New England and in other portions of\nthe United States, has descended to the lowest level of the free-love\ndoctrine, and thus fixed on itself the seal of that condemnation\nwhich it has been earning for a long time past, as the most dangerous\nand corrupting of all our literary periodicals. We hope that it will\nbe banished hereafter from every Catholic family, and receive no more\ncommendatory notices from the Catholic press. We are glad to see the\nstrong and manly refutation of its immoral nonsense given by _The\nNation_, although its argument fails of the sanction which is alone\nsufficient to compel assent, and efficiently control legislation\nand public opinion in a matter where so severe a curb is placed on\npassion and liberty to follow the individual will. We are happy\nto welcome such sensible and valuable aid to the cause of social\nmorality as that given by _The Nation_, but we must disown entirely\nanother champion of monogamy, to wit, the Methodist preacher, Dr.\nNewman, as more dangerous than an open antagonist. We see that this\nconspicuous declaimer intends to maintain in a public discussion,\nto be held in the Mormon temple, the irreligious and scandalous\nthesis that the holy patriarchs of the old law who practised polygamy\nwere adulterers and sinners against the divine law. This is quite\nconsistent with Luther's immoral doctrine that men totally depraved\nand steeped in deadly sin can be friends of God through a legal\nfiction of imputed righteousness; but it is equally shocking to piety\nand common sense, and as completely subversive of Christianity as\nthe superstitious imposture of Joe Smith. We predict an easy victory\nof Brigham Young over Dr. Newman. Dr. Evans, as corrected by his\neditor and Bishop Andrews, advocates the sound Christian doctrine of\nmarriage, and the circulation of his work must therefore have a most\nbeneficial influence.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    CRIMINAL ABORTION; ITS EXTENT AND PREVENTION. Read before the\n    Philadelphia County Medical Society, February 9th, 1870, by the\n    retiring President, Andrew Nebinger, M.D. Published by order of\n    the Society. Philadelphia: Collins. 1870.\n\nThis exhaustive essay, read before the Philadelphia County Medical\nSociety, by its able president, Dr. Nebinger, will, we trust, have a\ngreat influence toward remedying the present loose domestic morals of\nour country. We suppose the _expos\u00e9_ here made had much weight with\nthe Pennsylvania Legislature, which has recently passed a bill making\nit a penal offence for any one to advertise the vile nostrums which\nare now exposed for sale in our drug-stores with such unblushing\neffrontery.\n\nRecent statistics, published by Dr. Storer and others, prove the\nfearful prevalence of the crime of f\u0153ticide among the native\npopulation; and the next census will no doubt show an absolute\ndecrease of that class in the New England States. We hope when thus\nplaced officially before the eyes of the Protestant clergy, they will\nawaken to the necessity of at least informing their congregations of\nthe enormity of this sin; so that the plea of ignorance, now urged to\nextenuate their guilt, can no longer be used.\n\nPhysiology has definitely settled that vitality begins from the\nmoment of conception. Theology pronounces the destruction of human\nlife to be murder, and consequently the Catholic Church impresses in\nevery possible way upon her children the fearful retribution that\nwill be visited upon those who in any way tamper with the helpless\nunborn. We commend the paper to the careful perusal of our medical\nreaders.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    CONFERENCES OF THE REV. PERE LACORDAIRE. Delivered in the\n    Cathedral of N\u00f4tre Dame, in Paris. Translated from the French\n    by Henry Langdon. New York: P. O'Shea, 27 Barclay street. 1870.\n\nMr. O'Shea deserves our thanks and those of the entire body of\neducated Catholics in the United States for his republication of\nthis great work. F. Lacordaire was a genius, a great writer and a\ngreat orator; one of those shining and burning minds that enlighten\nand enkindle thousands of other minds during and after their earthly\ncourse. In the graces of writing and eloquence, he far surpassed that\nother popular preacher at N\u00f4tre Dame who has proved to be but an\n_ignis fatuus_. In originality of thought, intellectual gifts, and\nsound learning, he was eminent among his compeers. Better than all,\nhe was a holy man, a true monk, an imitator of the severe penance of\nthe saints, and a devoted, obedient son of the Holy Roman Church.\n\nHis conferences are well adapted both to instruct the minds and\nto charm the imaginations of those who desire to find the solid\nsubstance of sound doctrine under the most graceful, brilliant, and\nattractive form. We recommend them especially to young men, and hope\nthey will have a wide circulation.\n\nThe translation, however, we regret to say, though expressing the\nideas of the author, is very defective in a literary point of view.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    A NOBLE LADY. By Mrs. Augustus Craven. Translated, at the\n    author's request, by Emily Bowles. London: Burns, Oates & Co.\n    1869. Pp. 148. For sale by the Catholic Publication Society, 9\n    Warren Street, New York.\n\nBoth the author and translator of this volume are favorably known to\nour readers. Their reputation will be much increased by this pleasing\nbiography. Our \"Noble Lady\" is Adelaide Capece Minutolo, an Italian\nof rank. Accomplished, refined, and devout, she is a perfect picture\nof the Christian lady. Her life presents nothing extraordinary. She\ndid not become a nun. She never married. Yet she was very beautiful,\nand could have married suitably to her station. She preferred the\nlove and companionship of a younger sister to the uncertainty of\nmarriage and the keener joys and splendors of the world. Early in\nlife these sisters mutually resolved to seek nothing further than\nto live together; nor did either ever feel a regret, or doubt the\nwisdom of their choice, till, at the end of eight and twenty years,\ndeath dissolved their union. It is only in Italy that religion,\nart, and literary pursuits have met together, inspired, as it were,\nby the most glorious scenery, and where man's soul and heart, the\nunderstanding and the eye, are completely satisfied. Perhaps it is\nonly the daughters of Italy who unite great simplicity, wonderful\nsweetness, and charming tenderness to heroic courage and capacity for\nsuch studies as usually are interesting only to men. Such was the\ncharacter of the Noble Lady. No person of refinement can read this\nbook, without repeating the touching exclamation of a poor Neapolitan\nwoman, who, while she was praying by her coffin, was heard to\nexclaim, \"_Go, then, go to thy home, thou beautiful bit of Paradise!_\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    PILGRIMAGES IN THE PYRENEES AND LANDES. By Denys Shyne Lawlor,\n    Esq. London: Longmans, Green & Co. 1870.\n\nIt is indeed seldom than one will meet with a more charming and\ninteresting book than this. It contains accounts of visits made by\nthe author to various sanctuaries of the Blessed Virgin in that\nfavored region in the south of France which she seems to love so\nmuch; the most recent proof of this being her apparition at the\nGrotto of Lourdes, to the description of which a considerable part\nof the work is devoted. The account is hardly if at all inferior,\nexcept in its necessary brevity, to that of M. Henri Lasserre on\nthe same subject, and contains some additional events which have\nrecently occurred, such as the cure of the celebrated Father Hermann.\nBesides the description and history of the sanctuaries, the lives\nof several of the saints which this region has produced are given,\nand an account of their shrines; among these is one of St. Vincent\nof Paul. The book would be well worth reading for the pictures which\nare given of the magnificent scenery of the Pyrenean valleys; and\nits appearance and type are so beautiful that they would make even\nindifferent matter attractive.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    FELTER'S ARITHMETICS--NATURAL SERIES: FIRST LESSONS IN NUMBERS;\n    PRIMARY ARITHMETIC; INTELLECTUAL ARITHMETIC; INTERMEDIATE\n    ARITHMETIC; GRAMMAR-SCHOOL ARITHMETIC. By S. A. Felter, A.M.\n    New York: Charles Scribner & Co.\n\nA sketch of the science of numbers through its various progressive\nstages to its present almost perfect development would be of much\ninterest, but our limited space forbids us entering upon it. Of\nthe many series now before the public, much can be said by way of\ncommendation; we think, however, that Felter's, while in nowise\ninferior to the best, has some peculiar features which give it\na decided superiority. Of these may be mentioned the very large\nnumber of examples given under each rule, and the test questions\nfor examination which are found at the close of each section. These\ncannot fail to secure to the pupil a thorough understanding of his\nsubject before he leaves it. We also note with pleasure the _entire_\nabsence of answers from the text-books intended for use by the\npupils. A high-school arithmetic now in course of preparation will\nsoon be added to the series, and will then form a curriculum of\narithmetical instruction at once gradually progressive, and hence\nsimple, thoroughly practical, and complete. The author has evidently\na full knowledge of the needs of both pupil and teacher, and has\nadmirably succeeded in supplying their respective deficiencies.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    THE LIFE OF ST. STANISLAS KOSTKA. Edited by Edward Healy\n    Thompson. Philadelphia: P. F. Cunningham. 1870.\n\nMr. Thompson's lives of various saints are well written, both\nas regards their completeness and accuracy of detail and their\nliterary style. This is much the best life of the lovely, angelic\npatron of novices we have ever read. Is it necessary to inform any\nCatholic reader of the exquisite beauty of the character and life\nof this noble Polish youth? We hope not. This volume presents a\nlife-like portrait of it, which must rekindle the devotion already so\nwidely-spread and fervent toward one who seems like a reproduction of\nthe type of youthful sanctity which would have been seen in the sons\nof Adam, if their father had never sinned. Every father and mother\nought to make it a point to have this book read by their children,\nthat they may fall in love with virtue and piety, embodied in the\nwinning, lovely form of Stanislas Kostka.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    ALBUM OF THE FOURTEEN STATIONS OF THE CROSS IN ST. FRANCIS\n    XAVIER'S CHURCH. New York: P. O'Shea, 27 Barclay street.\n\nThese photographs of the stations are very well executed. They are\ngotten up, as we imagine, for private chapels and oratories. Indeed,\nthey would be suitable for any room which is set apart for quiet\nreading or devout exercises. These pictures are somewhat larger than\na _carte-de-visite_, and they are printed in such a way that they may\nbe readily hung upon the wall.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    FASCICULUS RERUM, etc. Auctore Henricus Formby. Londini: Burns,\n    Oates, Socii Bibliopol\u00e6.\n\nThis is an ably-written pamphlet, containing what appears to us a\nsingularly happy and valuable suggestion. The author's intention is\nconcisely expressed on his title-page, namely, that \"the best arts of\nour modern civilization\" be called into the service of God for once,\n(as they are daily done into that of Satan,) to furnish a \"life of\nour Lord Jesus Christ\" for all the nations of Christendom, a work\nwhich shall be for three chief ends: \"first, as a symbol of the true\nunity of all peoples in the church; secondly, as a beautiful memorial\nof the \u0152cumenical Council of the Vatican; and thirdly, as a very\nsweet solace and ornament for the daily life of all Christians.\"\n\nThe arts in question are typography, engraving, and photography; the\nlast to be used for furnishing views of the various spots and regions\nthroughout Palestine hallowed by the steps of Jesus Christ; and this\nwould necessitate a committee of competent men being sent to explore\nthe Holy Land.\n\nThe expense of the entire undertaking is to be defrayed by public\nsubscription and the patronage of the rich, and, of course, it is for\nthe holy father to inaugurate and supervise the matter. Wherefore the\nauthor humbly submits his pamphlet to the consideration of the holy\nsee and the council.\n\nFor ourselves, we repeat our belief that such a work as this\nprojected life of Christ would indeed be an inestimable boon to\nChristendom. Father Formby's hopes appear to us not at all too\nsanguine; and he has our cordial wish that the holy see may be\npleased to take up the work he so ably advocates.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nMR. P. O'SHEA, New York, has in press the following books:\n_Attributes of Christ_, by Father Gasparini; _Lacordaire's\nConferences on Jesus Christ_; _The Malediction_, a tale, by Madame A.\nK. De La Grange.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    BOOKS RECEIVED.\n\n    MESSRS. J. MURPHY & CO., Baltimore: The Paradise of the Earth.\n    18mo, pp. 528. Devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. By Rev.\n    S. Franco, S.J. Pp. 305.\n\n    P. F. CUNNINGHAM, Philadelphia: Hetty Homer. By Fannie Warner.\n    Pp. 142. The Beverly Family. By Joseph R. Chandler. Pp. 166.\n    Beech Bluff. By Fannie Warner. 12mo, pp. 332.\n\n    P. O'SHEA, New York: Knowledge and Love of Jesus Christ. Vol.\n    iii. pp. 632.\n\n    KELLY, PIET & CO., Baltimore: History of the Foundation of the\n    Order of the Visitation; and the Lives of Mlle. de la Fayette\n    and several other members of the Order. 12mo, pp. 271.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\nVOL. XI., No. 65.--AUGUST, 1870.\n\n\nMR. FROUDE'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND.[177]\n\nSECOND ARTICLE.\n\n\nIn our first article[178] we referred in general terms to the fact\nthat Mr. Froude had plunged into a great historical subject without\nthe requisite knowledge or the necessary preparation. This judgment\nwas presumed to be so well established by the concurrent testimony\nof the most opposite schools of criticism, both English and French,\nthat it was not thought necessary to cite examples from his pages.\nIn that notice we merely undertook to state the general results of\ncriticism as to Mr. Froude's first six volumes, reserving particular\nexamination for the latter half of the work, with special reference\nto his treatment of Mary Stuart.\n\nSince, however, it has been said that we charge the historian with\nshortcomings, and give no instances in support, we will, before\nproceeding further, satisfy this objection. This could be most easily\nand profusely done by going into his treatment of questions of the\ncontemporary history of foreign countries, or of general history\npreceding the sixteenth century, in both of which Mr. Froude is\ndeplorably weak. But we prefer a more decisive test, one that leaves\nthe historian without excuse, and will, therefore, not only confine\nit to English history, but to English history of the period of\nElizabeth, with which, according to his late plaintive appeal to the\n_Pall Mall Gazette_, Mr. Froude has labored so diligently and is so\nentirely familiar.\n\nAnd the test proposed illustrates not only his imperfect mastery\nof his own selected period of English history, but his total\nunconsciousness of the existence of one of the most peculiar laws\nof England in force for centuries before and after that period.\nA clever British reviewer, in expressing his surprise at our\nhistorian's multifarious ignorance concerning the civil and criminal\njurisprudence of his country, says that it is difficult to believe\nthat Mr. Froude has ever seen the face of an English justice; and\nthe reproach is well merited. Nevertheless we do not look for the\naccuracy of a Lingard or a Macaulay in an imaginative writer like\nMr. Froude, and might excuse numerous slips and blunders as to law\npleadings and the forms of criminal trials--nay, even as to musty old\nstatutes and conflicting legislative enactments, (as, for instance,\nwhen he puts on an air of critical severity (vol. ix. p. 38) as\nto the allowance of a delay of fifteen days in Bothwell's trial,\nclaiming, in his defective knowledge of the Scotch law, that it\nshould have been forty days;) but when we find his mind a total blank\nas to the very existence of one of the most peculiar and salient\nfeatures of English law, we must insist that such ignorance in one\nwho sets up for an English historian is far from creditable.\n\nHere is the case. During the reign of Elizabeth, one Thomas Cobham,\nlike unto many other good English Protestants, was \"roving the seas,\nhalf-pirate, half knight-errant of the Reformation, doing battle on\nhis own account with the enemies of the truth, wherever the service\nof God was likely to be repaid with plunder.\" (Froude, vol. viii. p.\n459.) He took a Spanish vessel, (England and Spain being at peace,)\nwith a cargo valued at eighty thousand ducats, killing many on board.\nAfter all resistance had ceased, he \"sewed up the captain and the\nsurvivors of the crew in their own sails, and flung them overboard.\"\nEven in England this performance of Cobham was looked upon as\nsomewhat irregular, and at the indignant requisition of Spain, he\nwas tried in London for piracy. De Silva, the Spanish ambassador at\nthe court of Elizabeth, wrote home an account of the trial. We now\nquote Mr. Froude, who being--as a learned English historian should\nbe--perfectly familiar with the legal institutions of his country,\nand knowing full well that the punishment described by De Silva was\nnever inflicted in England, is naturally shocked at the ignorance of\nthis foreigner, and thus presents and comments upon his letter.\n\n    \"Thomas Cobham,\" wrote De Silva, \"being asked at the trial,\n    according to the usual form in England, if he had any thing to\n    say in arrest of judgment, and answering nothing, was condemned\n    to be taken to the Tower, to be stripped naked to the skin, and\n    then to be placed with his shoulders resting on a sharp stone,\n    his legs and arms extended and on his stomach a gun, too heavy\n    for him to bear, yet not large enough immediately to crush him.\n    There he is to be left till he die. They will give him a few\n    grains of corn to eat, and for drink the foulest water in the\n    Tower.\" (Froude, vol. viii. p. 449, London ed. of 1863.)\n\nIt would not be easy to state the case in fewer words and more\naccurately than De Silva here puts it. Cobham was called upon to\nanswer in the usual form, and \"answering nothing\" or \"standing mute,\"\n\"was condemned,\" etc. A definition of the offence and a description\nof its punishment by the well-known _peine forte et dure_ were thus\nclearly presented; but even then Mr. Froude fails to recognize an\noffence and its penalty, perfectly familiar to any student who has\never read Blackstone or Bailey's Law Dictionary, and makes this\nastounding comment on De Silva's letter:\n\n    \"_Had any such sentence been pronounced, it would not have\n    been left to be discovered in the letter of a stranger_; the\n    ambassador may perhaps, in this instance, have been purposely\n    deceived, and his demand for justice satisfied by a fiction of\n    imaginary horror.\" (Froude, vol. viii. p. 449, London ed. 1863.)\n\nThis unfortunate performance of Mr. Froude was received by critics\nwith mirthful surprise, and, as a consequence, although the passages\nwe have cited may be found, as we have indicated, in the London\nedition of 1863, they need not be looked for in later editions.\nOn the contrary, we now learn from Mr. Froude (Scribner edition\nof 1870, vol viii. p. 461) that \"Cobham refused to plead to his\nindictment, and the dreadful sentence was passed upon him of the\n_peine forte et dure_;\" and thereto is appended an erudite note for\nthe instruction of persons supposed to be unacquainted with English\nlaw, explaining the matter, and citing Blackstone, \"book iv. chap.\n25.\"\n\nAh! learning is a beautiful thing!\n\nBut, possibly it may be suggested, this dreadful punishment was\nrarely inflicted, and that fact may serve to excuse Mr. Froude? Not\nat all. Other instances of the _peine forte et dure_ occurred in this\nvery reign of Elizabeth, with whose history Mr. Froude is so very\nfamiliar. Here is one which inspires us with a feeling of compassion\nfor the much-abused Spanish Inquisition, and proportionately\nincreases our admiration of the \"glorious Reformation.\"\n\nMargaret Middleton, the wife of one Clitheroe, a rich citizen of\nYork, was prosecuted for having harbored a priest in quality of a\nschoolmaster. At the bar (March 25th, 1586) she refused to plead\nguilty, because she knew that no sufficient proof could be brought\nagainst her; and she would not plead \"not guilty,\" because she\nconsidered such a plea equivalent to a falsehood. The _peine forte et\ndure_ was immediately ordered.\n\n    \"After she had prayed, Fawcet, the sheriff, commanded them to\n    put off her apparel; when she, with the four women, requested\n    him on their knees, that, for the honor of womanhood, this\n    might be dispensed with. But they would not grant it. Then she\n    requested them that the women might unapparel her, and that\n    they would turn their faces from her during that time.\n\n    \"The women took off her clothes, and put upon her the long\n    linen habit. Then very quickly she laid her down upon the\n    ground, her face covered with a handkerchief, and most part\n    of her body with the habit. The _dure_ (door) was laid upon\n    her; her hands she joined toward her face. Then the sheriff\n    said, 'Naie, ye must have your hands bound.' Then two sergeants\n    parted her hands, and bound them to two posts. After this they\n    laid weight upon her, which, when she first felt she said,\n    'Jesu, Jesu, Jesu, have mercye upon mee,' which were the last\n    words she was heard to speake. She was in dying about one\n    quarter of an hour. A sharp stone, as much as a man's fist had\n    been put under her back; upon her was laied to the quantitie\n    of seven or eight hundred weight, which, breaking her ribbs,\n    caused them to burst forth of the skinne.\"\n\nThis question of the _peine forte et dure_ naturally brings us to the\nconsideration of a kindred subject most singularly treated in Mr.\nFroude's pages. If the constant use of\n\n\nTORTURE AND THE RACK\n\nhad been a feature of Mary Stuart's reign, and not, as it was, the\ndaily expedient of Elizabeth and Cecil, what bursts of indignant\neloquence should we not have been favored with by our historian, and\nwhat admirable illustrations would it not have furnished him as to\nthe brutalizing tendencies of Catholicity and the superior humanity\nand enlightenment of Protestantism? Nothing so clearly shows the\ngovernment of Elizabeth to have been a despotism as her constant\nemployment of torture. Every time she or Cecil sent a prisoner to\nthe rack--and they sent hundreds--they trampled the laws of England\nunder foot. These laws, it is true, sometimes authorized painful\nordeals and severe punishments, but the rack never. Torture was never\nlegally authorized in England. But the trickling blood, the agonized\ncries, the crackling bones, the \"strained limbs and quivering\nmuscles\" (Froude vol. vi. p. 294) of martyred Catholics make these\nTudor practices lovely in Mr. Froude's eyes, and he philosophically\nremarks, \"The method of inquiry, however inconsonant with modern\nconceptions of justice, was adapted excellently for the outrooting\nof the truth.\" (Vol. vii. p. 293)\n\nWe can hardly believe that any other man of modern enlightenment\ncould possibly entertain such opinions. They are simply amazing\nin their cold-blooded and crude ignorance. Torture is not only\n\"inconsonant\" with modern conceptions of justice, but also with\nancient; for it is condemned even by the sages of the law which\nauthorized it. If Mr. Froude had any knowledge of the civil law,\nhe might have learned something of this matter from the Digests,\n(_Liber_ xviii. tit. 18.) The passage is too long to cite, but one\nsentence alone tells us in a few words of the fallacy, danger,\nand decaption of the use of torture: \"Etenim res est fragilis et\npericulosa, et qu\u00e6 veritatem fallat.\"\n\nSo much for ancient opinion. And modern justice has rejected the\nhorrible thing, not only on the ground of morality, but because it\nhas been demonstrated to be a promoter of perjury and the worst\npossible means of \"outrooting\" the truth.\n\nTo return: the case of Cobham is not the only one in which Mr.\nFroude has prudently profited by criticism, and hastened, in a new\nedition of his work, to repair his blunder. Even a slight comparison\nof his first with his last edition will show him to be under deep\nobligations to his critics, and it would be wise in him to seek to\nincrease his debt of gratitude by fresh corrections.\n\n\nTHE CHATELAR STORY\n\nis told by Mr. Froude in his characteristic way, and, while\nacquitting Mary Stuart of blame, \"she had probably nothing worse\nto accuse herself of than thoughtlessness,\" (vol. vii. p. 506,)\nmanages to leave a stain upon her character. He prefaces the story\nwith the statement that \"she was selfish in her politics and sensual\nin her passions.\" Serious historians generally use language with\nsome reference to its value; but one epithet costs Mr. Froude no\nmore effort than another, although there is not a shadow of pretext\nthus far in his own version of Mary's history to justify so foul an\noutrage as the use here of this word \"sensual.\" We pass on. Chatelar\nwas a young Huguenot gentleman, a nephew of the noble Bayard, gifted\nand highly accomplished. He had accompanied his patron D'Amville to\nScotland, and returned with him to France. D'Amville was a suitor for\nMary's hand, and, after some time, dispatched Chatelar to Scotland\nwith missives for the queen. Randolph was present when Chatelar\narrived, and describes D'Amville's letter as of \"three whole sheets\nof paper.\" Yet Mr. Froude, perfectly aware of all this, writes,\n\n    \"He went back to France, but he could not remain there. The\n    moth was _recalled_ to the flame whose warmth was life and\n    death to it.\"\n\nThe remainder is of a piece with this. Supernaturally penetrating\nin reading Mary Stuart's most hidden thoughts, Mr. Froude is blind\nto the vulgar envy of the parvenu Randolph, who, writing to Cecil,\n(Froude, vol. vii. p. 505, note,) has the mendacious impudence to\nspeak of Chatelar as \"so unworthy a creature and abject a varlet.\"\n\nOf the rules that govern the admission of evidence in ordinary\ncourts of law, Mr. Froude does not appear to have any knowledge,\nand at every page he manifests a total unconsciousness of the most\nrudimentary test to be applied to the testimony of a witness in or\nout of court. It is to see whether the witness has not some powerful\nmotive to praise or to blame. Thus, when he desires to establish a\nhigh character for \"the stainless Murray,\" he gives us the testimony\nof--his employers Elizabeth and Cecil! In telling us what Mary\nStuart was, he most freely uses the hired pamphleteer Buchanan,\nalthough ashamed--as well he may be--to name his authority.[179]\nSo also in the case before us, although the mean envy excited in\nRandolph by the accomplished and nobly-born young Frenchman is\nperfectly clear, Mr. Froude gives us the English envoy's dispatches\nas testimony not to be questioned.\n\n\nMARY STUART AND JOHN KNOX.\n\nAn interview between the queen and Knox in December, 1562, in which\nMr. Froude describes Knox's rudeness as \"sound northern courtesy,\"\n(vol. vii. p. 543,) is passed over by him with commendable rapidity.\nAnd of yet another interview he says not a word.\n\nUnder the statute of 1560 proceedings were taken in 1563 against Mary\nin the west of Scotland for celebrating mass.\n\nThe wilds of Ayrshire, in later years the resort of persecuted\nPresbyterians, were the resort of persecuted Catholics. \"On the\nbleak moorlands or beneath the shelter of some friendly roof,\"\nsays Mr. Hosack,[180] \"they worshipped in secret according to the\nfaith of their fathers.\" Zealous reformers waited not for form of\nlaw to attack and disperse the \"idolaters,\" when they found them\nthus engaged. Mary remonstrated with Knox against these lawless\nproceedings, and argued for freedom of worship, or, as Knox himself\nstates it, \"no to pitt haunds to punish ony man for using himsel in\nhis religion as he pleases.\" But the Scotch reformer applauded the\noutrage, and even asserted that private individuals might even \"slay\nwith their own hands idolaters and enemies of the true religion,\"\nquoting Scripture to prove his assertions.[181] Shortly afterward\nforty-eight Catholics were arraigned before the high court of\njusticiary for celebrating mass, and punished by imprisonment.\n\nAt page 384 (vol. vii.) we are told by Mr. Froude that the Protestant\nmob drove the priest from the altar, (royal chapel,) \"with broken\nhead and bloody ears,\" and at page 418 that \"the measure of virtue in\nthe Scotch ministers was the audacity with which they would reproach\nthe queen.\" \"Maitland protested that theirs was not language for\nsubjects to use to their sovereign,\" and there really appears to be\nsomething in the suggestion; but Mr. Froude is of the opinion that\n\"essentially, after all, Knox was right,\" clinching it, with--\"He\nsuspected that Mary Stuart meant mischief to the reformation, and she\ndid mean mischief.\" And this is the key to Mr. Froude's main argument\nthroughout this history. Whoever and whatever favors the reformation\nis essentially good, whoever and whatever opposes it is essentially\nvile. And the end, (the reformation) justifies the means.\n\nFar be it from us to gainsay the perfect propriety of an occasional\nsupply of sacerdotal broken heads and bloody ears, if a Protestant\nmob sees fit to fancy such an amusement; or to question the measure\nof virtue in the Scotch ministers; or to approve of the absurd\nprotest of Maitland; or, least of all, not swiftly to recognize that\n\"essentially\" Knox was right. Not we indeed! But then we really\nmust be excused for venturing to suggest--merely to suggest, that,\nin the first place, if we assume such a line of argument, we deprive\nourselves of weapons wherewith to assail the cruelties of such men as\nAlva and Philip of Spain. Surely, the right does not essentially go\nwith the power to persecute! And in the second place--that this was\nrather rough treatment for a young and inexperienced girl, against\nwhom thus far nothing has been shown. But here Mr. Froude meets us\nwith \"Harlot of Babylon,\" and we are again silenced.\n\nMaitland absurdly hinted to Knox that if he had a grievance he should\ncomplain of it modestly, and was very properly hooted at by Knox in\nreply. And thereupon comes a fine passage from Mr. Froude, admirably\nexemplifying his psychological treatment of history. (Vol. vii. p.\n419.)\n\n    \"Could she but secure first the object on which her heart was\n    fixed, she could indemnify herself afterward at her leisure.\n    The preachers might rail, the fierce lords might conspire; a\n    little danger gave piquancy to life, and the air-drawn crowns\n    which floated before her imagination would pay for it all.\"\n\nWe do not know how this may affect other people, but \"air-drawn\ncrowns\" did the business for us, and we proceed to make it the text\nfor A LESSON IN HISTORICAL WRITING.\n\nMr. Froude may or may not have transferred the contempt and hatred\nof France of the sixteenth century, which throughout his book he\nloses no opportunity of manifesting, to France of the nineteenth\ncentury; but we venture to suggest to him that he may find in France\nmodels and principles of historical treatment which he might study\nwith signal profit. Specially would we commend to his lection and\nserious perpension the following pithy passage from the very latest\npublished volume of French history. We refer to Lanfrey's _Histoire\nde Napoleon I_. The author describes the meeting of Napoleon and\nAlexander at Tilsit, and, referring to the absurd attempt made by\nsome writers to explain the motives which actuated the French and\nRussian emperors at their private interview on the Niemen, makes this\nsensible reflection:\n\n\"Il est toujours dangereux et souvent pu\u00e9ril de vouloir interpr\u00e9ter\nles sentiments secrets des personnages historiques.\"[182] (Lanfrey,\nvol. iv. p. 403. Paris, 1870.) Mr. Froude's attention to this\nteaching would rapidly suppress \"air-drawn crowns\" and such like\nstage properties, so freely used by him for dramatic effect.\n\n\nSOME OMISSIONS.\n\nMr. Froude appears to have no knowledge of the important proceedings\nat Mary's first Parliament, May, 1563, when the corpse of the late\nEarl of Huntly, kept for the purpose since the previous October,\nwas brought in for attainder. Forfeiture was declared mainly for\nMurray's benefit, and at the same time the forfeitures of the Earl\nof Sutherland (the evidence against him being forgeries) and eleven\nbarons of the house of Gordon were passed. In vain the Countesses of\nHuntly and Sutherland endeavored to petition the queen; they were, by\nMurray's intervention, denied access to her. Nor does our historian\nappear to have heard of the circumstances attending Murray's\nsurreptitious procuring of the queen's signature to the death-warrant\nof young Huntly. It is a most interesting episode, but we have not\nroom for it. Some three weeks later, we find a curious letter of\nRandolph to Cecil, which need not be sought for in Froude. It is\nimportant as showing the peculiar esteem in which Murray was held at\nthe court of ---- Elizabeth. A packet addressed to Queen Mary had\nbeen stopped and opened by the English officials at Newcastle. Mary,\nnot recognizing her position as the vassal of Elizabeth, complained\nof it to Randolph. Whereupon Randolph writes to Cecil, (June, 1563,)\nadvising, \"If any suspected letters be taken, not to open them, but\nto send them to my Lord of Moray, of whose services the Queen of\nEngland is _sure_.\" And good reason there was to be _sure_; for all\nthe world, except Mr. Froude, knows that the \"stainless,\" from first\nto last, was the bribed and pensioned agent of Elizabeth.\n\n\nKNOX AND THE COUNCIL.\n\n    \"The Queen of Scots,\" says Mr. Froude, \"had quarrelled again\n    with Knox, whom she attempted to provide with lodgings in the\n    castle; the lords had interfered, and anger and disappointment\n    had made her ill.\" (Vol. vii. p. 549.)\n\nHere again Mary seems to fall away from the high standard of\n\"consummate actress;\" but, on the other hand, Mr. Froude is fully\nup to his own standard of consummate historian; for the passage\nis clever, even for him. Here is what it all means: Cranston and\nArmstrong, two members of Knox's congregation who were afterward\namong the murderers of Riccio, had been arrested and thrown into\nprison for raising a riot in the chapel royal at Holyrood, to prevent\nservice there. And why should they not? A Catholic queen had no\nrights which her Protestant subjects were bound to respect. Knox\nthereupon sent a circular throughout Scotland convening his brethren\nto meet in Edinburgh on a certain day--in other words, to excite\ntumult and inaugurate civil war. Let Randolph, Mr. Froude's favorite\nauthority, tell the rest.\n\nRandolph to Cecil, Dec. 21, 1563:\n\n    \"The lords had assembled to take order with John Knox and his\n    faction, who intended, by a mutinous assembly made by his\n    letter before, to have rescued two of their brethren from\n    course of law for using an outrage,\" etc.\n\nMurray and Maitland sent for Knox and remonstrated with him. But Knox\nshowed no respect for either of them. Nothing came of the interview,\nand they had him summoned before the queen and her privy council.\nSeriously ill as she was, she attended. Now compare these facts\nwith Mr. Froude's statement above, (vol. vii. p. 549,) and see if\nit is possible to crowd into three lines more misrepresentation and\nmalevolence. Note _quarrelled_. Mary knew nothing of the affair until\nafter the action of the lords and the attempt of Murray and Maitland\nto persuade Knox. Mr. Froude says Mary attempted to imprison him, and\nthe lords interfered. \"Anger and disappointment made her ill.\" Now,\nthis Knox affair occurred while Randolph was waiting to have audience\nof Mary, but was delayed on account of her illness. To return to the\ncouncil. Knox's seditious letter was produced. He boldly avowed it,\nand significantly observed, referring to certain reported practices\nof Murray and Maitland, that \"no forgeries had been interpolated in\nthe spaces he had left blank.\" A week after this event, Randolph\ndescribes Mary as still sick, although compelled to confer with her\ncouncil.\n\n\nMARY'S MARRIAGE.\n\nAll this time Mary has been waiting Elizabeth's good pleasure as to\nwhom she shall marry. Elizabeth finally decided to bestow upon her\nScottish sister her own lover Leicester, who \"was, perhaps, the most\nworthless of her subjects; but in the loving eyes of his mistress\nhe was the knight _sans peur et sans reproche_; and she took a\nmelancholy pride in offering her sister her choicest jewel.\" (Vol.\nviii. p. 74.) But Mr. Froude spoils the \"melancholy pride\" at the\nnext page by telling us that Elizabeth \"was so capable of falsehood\nthat her own expressions would have been an insufficient guarantee\nfor her sincerity.\"\n\nMurray's opposition to Mary's marriage with Darnley was bitter. His\nascendency in her councils had culminated in his proposition to have\nhimself legitimated, and that the queen should lease the crown to him\nand Argyll. Mary's marriage to any one would end all such hopes, and\nDarnley, moreover, was personally obnoxious to Murray because he had\nbeen heard to say, looking at a map of Scotland, that Murray had \"too\nmuch for a subject.\" Elizabeth's instructions precisely tallied with\nMurray's inclinations and interest. He withdrew from court, and would\nnot attend the convention at Perth.\n\n\nPLOT TO IMPRISON MARY.\n\nAnd now comes the plot of Murray and his friends to seize Darnley and\nhis father, (Lennox,) deliver them to Elizabeth's agents or slay them\nif they made resistance, and imprison the queen at Lochleven. In a\nnote at page 178, vol. viii., Mr. Froude, with a sweet and touching\nmelancholy, says, \"A sad and singular horoscope had already been cast\nfor Darnley.\" The magician of this horoscope was Randolph, who fears\nthat \"Darnley can have no long life amongst this people.\" Certainly\nnot, if Mr. Randolph understands himself; for his letters of that\nperiod are full of the details of a plot to stir up an insurrection\nin Scotland, place Murray at the head of it, kill Darnley and his\nfather, and imprison the queen at Lochleven. Elizabeth sent Murray\n\u00a37000 for the nerve of the insurrection, and her letters to Bedford\ninstructing him to furnish Murray with money and soldiers are in\nexistence. The programme was at last carried out eighteen months\nlater, when Darnley was killed and Mary a prisoner.\n\nOn the 30th of June, 1565, at ten in the morning, the queen, with\na small retinue, was to ride from Perth to Callendar house, to be\npresent at the baptism of a child of her friends Lord and Lady\nLivingstone. Murray's party were to take her prisoner at this time.\nThe Earls of Rothes and Argyll, and the Duke of Chatelherault were\nto be stationed at three different points on her route with an\noverpowering force. Murray was to wait at Lochleven, which he had\njust provisioned and provided with artillery. As usual, he managed to\nhave the overt act done by others.\n\nAll these arrangements were made in concert with Randolph and Cecil,\nand were so apparently perfect that success was considered certain.\nSo sure was Cecil of it that an entry in his private diary of July\n7th, runs, \"that there was a rumor that the Scottish Queen should\nhave been taken.\"\n\nDuring the night of the 29th, a warning was conveyed to Mary of the\nplot. Instead of waiting until ten, the hour fixed for her departure,\nshe was in the saddle at five in the morning, and safe at Callendar\nby eleven. It is very singular, but Mr. Froude seems never to have\nheard of this exciting ride, while the \"stainless\" Murray was keeping\nbootless watch and ward at Lochleven. We regret it exceedingly, if\nfor no other reason than the loss of an animated picture in Mr.\nFroude's best style, running somewhat thus:\n\n    \"Bright shone the sun. The queen, with incredible animosity,\n    was mounted on a swift courser galloping by the side of young\n    Darnley, and then away--away--past the Parenwell, past\n    Lochleven, through Kinross, past Castle Campbell, across the\n    north Ferry and over the Firth, fast as their horses could\n    speed; seven in all--Mary, her three ladies, Darnley, Lennox,\n    Atholl, and Ruthven. In five hours the hospitable gates of\n    Livingstone had closed behind them, and Mary Stuart was safe.\"\n    (See vol. viii. p. 270.)\n\nOf this plot of Murray, here is the clever record made by Mr. Froude:\n\n    \"A hint was given him that Darnley and Riccio had formed\n    a plan to kill him. He withdrew to his mother's castle at\n    Lochleven, and published the occasion of his disobedience. Mary\n    Stuart replied with a counter-charge that the Earl of Murray\n    had proposed to take her prisoner and carry Darnley off to\n    England.\" (Vol. viii. p. 180.)\n\nUpon this, Mr. Froude's cool comment is, \"Both stories were probably\ntrue\"! Yes, with the difference that the proof against Murray was\noverwhelming; for Mr. Froude admits that \"Murray's offer to Randolph\nwas sufficient evidence against himself,\" whereas there was none\nagainst Darnley. At page 182, Mr. Froude makes Mary \"return from\nPerth to Edinburgh.\" This renders it quite clear that he has never\nheard of her hurried ride to Callendar.\n\n\nQUESTION OF TOLERATION.\n\nRandolph strangely finds fault with Mary for her toleration in\nreligious matters. \"Her will to continue papistry, and _her desire\nto have all men live as they list_, so offendeth the godly men's\nconsciences, that it is continually feared that these matters will\nbreak out to some great mischief.\" And lo! the mischief did break\nout. The Assembly of the Kirk presented, under the singular garb of a\n\"supplication,\" a remonstrance to the queen, in which they declared\nthat \"the practice of idolatry\" could not be tolerated in the\nsovereign any more than in the subject, and that the \"papistical and\nblasphemous mass\" should be wholly abolished. To whom the queen:\n\n    \"Where it was desired that the mass should be suppressed and\n    abolished, as well in her majesty's own person and family as\n    amongst her subjects, her highness did answer for herself,\n    that she was noways persuaded that there was any impiety in\n    the mass, and trusted her subjects would not press her to\n    act against her conscience; for, not to dissemble, but to\n    deal plainly with them, she neither might nor would forsake\n    the religion wherein she had been educated and brought up,\n    believing the same to be the true religion, and grounded on the\n    word of God. Her loving subjects should know that she, neither\n    in times past, nor yet in time coming, did intend to force the\n    conscience of any person, but to permit every one to serve God\n    in such manner as they are persuaded to be the best, that they\n    likewise would not urge her to any thing that stood not with\n    the quietness of her mind.\"\n\n\"Nothing,\" remarks Mr. Hosack, \"could exceed the savage rudeness\nof the language of the assembly; nothing could exceed the dignity\nand moderation of the queen's reply.\" _Of all this, in Mr. Froude's\npages, not one word!_ Indeed he at all times religiously keeps out\nof sight all Mary says or writes, admitting rarely a few words under\nprudent censorship and liberal expurgation. Sweetly comparing the\nassembly to \"the children of Israel on their entrance into Canaan,\"\nhe dissimulates their savage rudeness, and adds, almost pensively,\nthat Murray, though he was present, \"no longer raised his voice in\nopposition.\" Randolph fully confirms what Throckmorton reported four\nyears before--that she neither desired to change her own religion\nnor to interfere with that of her subjects. Mary told Knox the\nsame thing when she routed him, by his own admission, in profane\nhistory, and his own citations from the Old Testament. Where she\nobtained her familiarity with the Scriptures we cannot imagine, if\nMr. Froude tells the truth about her \"French education.\" \"A Catholic\nsovereign sincerely pleading to a Protestant assembly for liberty\nof conscience, might have been a lesson to the bigotry of mankind,\"\n(vol. viii. p. 182;) \"but,\" adds Mr. Froude, \"Mary Stuart was not\nsincere.\" When Mr. Froude says Mary Stuart is intolerant, we show\nhim, by a standard universally recognized, her words and actions, all\nalways consistent with each other and with themselves, that she was\neminently tolerant and liberal. But when he gives us his personal and\nunsupported opinion that \"she was not sincere,\" he passes beyond the\nbounds of historical argument into a realm where we cannot follow him.\n\nStill greater than Mr. Froude's difficulty of quoting Mary at all, is\nhis difficulty of quoting her correctly when he pretends to. Randolph\ncomes to Mary with a dictatorial message from Elizabeth, that she\nshall not take up arms against the lords in insurrection. Mr. Froude\ncalls it a request that she would do no injury to the Protestant\nlords, who were her good subjects. Mary replied, according to Froude,\n(vol. viii. p. 188,) \"that Elizabeth might call them 'good subjects;'\nshe had found them bad subjects, and as such she meant to treat\nthem.\" Mary really said,\n\n    \"For those whom your mistress calls 'my _best_ subjects,' I\n    cannot esteem them so, nor so do they deserve to be accounted\n    of that that they will not obey my commands; and therefore my\n    good sister ought not to be offended if I do that against them\n    as they deserve.\"\n\nThe truth is, Mary's unvarying, queenly dignity and womanly\ngentleness in all she speaks and writes is a source of profound\nunhappiness to Mr. Froude, refuting as it does his theory of her\ncharacter. Consequently it is his aim to vulgarize it down to a\nstandard in vogue elsewhere.\n\nMr. Froude is most felicitous when he disguises Mary, as he\nfrequently does, with Elizabeth's tortuous drapery. Thus:\n\n    \"Open and straightforward conduct did not suit the complexion\n    of Mary Stuart's genius; she breathed more freely, and she used\n    her abilities with better effect, in the uncertain twilight of\n    conspiracy.\"\n\n\"Uncertain twilight\" is pretty. But where were Mary's conspiracies?\nHad she Randolphs at Elizabeth's court, and Drurys on the border,\nplotting, intriguing, and bribing English noblemen? Had she two\nthirds of Elizabeth's council of state pensioned as paid spies?\nHad she salaried officials to pick up or invent English court\nscandal for her amusement? Truly it is refreshing to turn from\nMary's twilight conspiracies to the honest and noble transactions\nof Elizabeth, Cecil, and Randolph. But of the malicious gossip of\nElizabeth's spies one might not so much complain, if Mr. Froude\nhad the fairness to give their reports without his embroidery of\nrhetoric and imagination. Thus, when Randolph writes, \"There is a\n_silly story_ afloat that the queen _sometimes_ carries a pistol,\"\nMr. Froude considers himself authorized by Randolph to say, \"She\ncarried pistols in hand and pistols at her saddle-bow;\" and, as\nusual, reading her thoughts, goes on to tell us that \"her one\npeculiar hope was to destroy her brother, against whom she bore an\nespecial and unexplained animosity.\" The personal intimacy between\nRandolph and Murray more than sufficiently explains the source of\nthe information given in Randolph's letter of Oct. 13th. (Vol. viii.\np. 196.) Mr. Froude has a moment of weakness when he says that the\nintimacy between the queen and Riccio was so confidential as to\nprovoke calumny. That any thing said of Mary Stuart could possibly be\ncalumny is an admission for Mr. Froude only less amazing than that\n\"she was warm and true in her friendships.\" The queen's indignation\nagainst Murray is sufficiently accounted for by the existence of\nthe calumnies, and the fact that Murray's treasons sent him at this\ntime a fugitive to his mistress Elizabeth. A few pages further on,\nwe have Mary riding \"in steel bonnet and corselet, with a dagg at\nher saddle-bow,\" (vol. viii. p. 213,) for which Mr. Froude quotes\nRandolph. But Randolph wrote, \"_If what I have heard be true_, she\nrode,\" etc., questionable hearsay where Mary Stuart is concerned,\nanswering Mr. Froude's purpose somewhat better than fact.\n\nThrough Randolph, Elizabeth announced to Mary that one of the\nconditions on which she would consent to the Darnley marriage was,\nthat \"she must conform to the religion established by law.\" Upon\nthis, the singular comment is, \"It is interesting to observe how the\ncurrent of the reformation had swept Elizabeth forward in spite of\nherself.\" (Vol. viii. p. 187.) Mary's answer was, she \"would make no\nmerchandise of her conscience.\"\n\n\nMURRAY'S INSURRECTION.\n\nAt page 198, vol. viii., after the armed rebellion of Murray and his\nfriends, popularly known in Scotland as \"The Runabout Raid,\" we have\nMary\n\n    \"breathing nothing but anger and defiance. The affection of\n    a sister for a brother was curdled into a hatred the more\n    malignant because it was more unnatural. Her whole passion was\n    concentrated on Murray.\"\n\nIt must be clear to every one how reprehensible Mary was for showing\nany feeling at all in defence of her crown, her liberty, and her\nlife, and with Mr. Froude's premises and logic, Murray gave a signal\nproof of affection for his sister in arraying himself against her\nlegitimate authority as the head of an insurrection. Mr. Froude can\nsee, in the just indignation of the queen against domestic traitors\nin league, with a foreign power, nothing but the violence of a\nvengeful fury. His anxiety to possess his readers of the same view\nhas brought him into a serious difficulty, which has been exposed by\nM. Wiesener in his _Marie Stuart_. At p. 211, vol. viii., Mr. Froude\nquotes a letter of Randolph to Cecil of Oct. 5th, \"in Rolls House,\"\nby which he means Record Office, to show that Mary \"was deaf to\nadvice as she had been to menace,\" and \"she said _she would have no\npeace till she had Murray's or Chatelherault's head_.\" This letter\nappears to be visible to nobody but Mr. Froude; and we have the\nauthority of Mr. Joseph Stevenson, who is more at home among the MSS.\nof the Record Office than Mr. Froude, and who, when he uses them, has\nthe merit of citing them in their integrity, for stating that this\nletter of the 5th October, referred to by Mr. Froude, _is not in the\nRecord Office_.[183] But there is a letter there from Randolph to\nCecil of the 4th October, in which Randolph represents Mary\n\n    \"not only uncertain as to what she should do, but inclined to\n    clement measures, and so undecided as to hope that matters\n    could be arranged\"!\n\nThis does not sound like \"deaf to advice,\" and Mr. Froude can arrange\nthis little difficulty with the dates and Mr. Stevenson at his\nleisure. Meantime, we all anxiously wait to hear from Mr. Froude\nwhere he found his authority for stating that Mary said she would\nhave no peace till she had Murray's or Chatelherault's head.\n\nAt page 205, vol. viii. the account given by Mauvissi\u00e8re of his\ninterview with Mary is travestied by Mr. Froude. Mauvissi\u00e8re\ncounselled her to make peace with the insurgents. Mary saw through\nthe device; for it was the counsel of Catherine de' Medici, whose\nenmity to Mary was only surpassed by that of Elizabeth; and, although\nwithout advisers--for Murray was in rebellion, Morton had withdrawn\nhimself, and Maitland was suspected--she rejected it instantly.\n\nIt is amusing to observe how the loyal attachment of the citizens\nand merchants of Edinburgh to Mary annoys Mr. Froude. During\nMary's absence, the rebels swept into the city with a large force;\nbut, notwithstanding the appeal of the kirk, the \"_Calvinist\nshop-keepers_,\" as Mr. Froude witheringly styles them, would not\nlift a finger to aid them. We call it amusing, because Mr. Froude\neverywhere so undisguisedly manifests his strong personal sympathy\nthat, as an historian, he becomes simply absurd.\n\nMary marched against the rebels with eighteen thousand men. As she\napproached, they fled into England, and the rebellion was over.\n\n\"The Queen of Scots, following in hot pursuit, glared across the\nfrontier at her escaping prey.\" (Vol. viii. p. 214.) The amount of\nprecise information in Mr. Froude's exclusive possession concerning\nthe expression of Mary Stuart's eyes as something wonderful. Here\nher eyes \"glare;\" elsewhere, (vol. viii. p. 365,) there is an \"odd\nglitter in her eyes,\" while at p. 161, they are \"flashing pride and\ndefiance.\"\n\nIt is this imaginative power and talent for pictorial embellishment\nwhich lend to Mr. Froude's work such peculiar attraction for the\ngeneral reader. And to give expression to this natural appreciation,\nsuch testimonials as the following are seriously produced as\nevidences of the merit of the work.\n\n\"What a wonderful history it is!\" says Mrs. Mulock Craik; \"and\nwonderful indeed is it, with its vivid pictures of scenes and persons\nlong passed away; its broad charity, its tender human sympathy, its\never present dignity, its outbursts of truest pathos.\"\n\nAll this is in keeping with the eternal fitness of things. This\nexcellent lady, a somewhat successful writer of novels, really means\nwhat she says, and expresses herself in all sincerity. Her admiration\nis genuine. It is that of a pupil for her master, and she ingenuously\nadmires one who has attained excellence in his art. We have not\nthe slightest doubt that many will say with her, \"What a wonderful\nhistory it is!\"\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[177] _History of England from the Fall of Wolsey to the Death of\nElizabeth._ By James Anthony Froude, late Fellow of Exeter College,\nOxford. 12 vols. New York: Charles Scribner & Co.\n\n[178] See CATHOLIC WORLD for June, 1870.\n\n[179] In all his volumes Mr. Froude cites Buchanan by name but once.\n\n[180] _Mary Queen of Scots and her Accusers._ By John Hosack,\nBarrister at Law. Edinburgh. 1869.\n\n[181] He had previously denounced his sovereign from the pulpit as an\nincorrigible idolatress and an enemy whose death would be a public\nblessing. Randolph writes to Cecil February, 1564, \"They pray that\nGod will either turn her heart or send her a short life;\" adding,\n\"of what charity or spirit this proceedeth, I leave to be discussed\nby the great divines.\" And yet we must not hastily condemn Knox,\nalthough a man fifty-eight years of age, of indiscriminate sourness\nand severity to all young women. He was at that very time paying his\naddresses to a girl of sixteen.\n\n[182] \"The attempt to make one's self the interpreter of the\nsecret sentiments of historical personages is always dangerous and\nfrequently ridiculous.\"\n\n[183] See \"Calendar of the State Papers relating to Scotland,\npreserved in the State Paper Department of Her Majesty's Public\nRecord Office. 2 vols. quarto. London, 1858.\"\n\nCopy in Astor Library. This calendar gives the date and abstract of\nthe contents of each document. There is no record of any letter of\nRandolph to Cecil of Oct. 5th, 1565, but there is one of Oct. 4th.\n\n\n\n\nIN THE GREENWOOD.\n\n    \"Then the wyld thorowe the woodes went\n      On every syde shear;\n    Grea-hondes thorowe the greves glent\n      For to kyll thear dear.\"\n\n\nI.\n\nFor three consecutive mornings of a certain month of May not far\ndistant, Blanch and I had opened our diaries to write, \"Wind E. N. E.\"\n\nEvery body knows what that means in Boston. It means chill and\ngrayness and drizzle; it means melancholy-shining sidewalks and\npuddles _\u00e0 surprise_ just where the foot is most confidingly\nplanted; it means water dripping over gutters, flowing frothily from\nspouts, and squishing from shoes of poor folks at every step they\ntake; it means draggled skirts, and cross looks, and influenza, and\nbronchitis, and a disposition to believe in the total depravity of\ninanimate things.\n\nYes; but also it means an effervescence of spirit in those rare\nsouls, like incarnate sunshine, kindred in some sort of \"Epictetus,\na slave, maimed in body, an Irus in poverty, and favored by the\nimmortals.\"\n\nBut--three whole days of drizzle!\n\nOn the first day, Blanch and I glanced approvingly skyward, and\nsaid, \"A fine rain!\" then went about that inevitable clearing out of\ndrawers and closets and reading of old letters, which a rainy day\nsuggests to the feminine mind.\n\nOn the second morning, we donned water-proofs and over-shoes, and\nboldly sallied forth, coming in later breathless, glowing, drenched,\nand with our hair curled up into kinks. Then, subsiding a little, we\ndrew down the crimson curtains, lighted a fire, lighted the gas,\nand, shutting ourselves into that rosy cloister, read till we were\nsleepy.\n\nBut sometimes water looks a great deal wetter than it does at other\ntimes; and on the third morning it looked very wet indeed. The damp,\neasterly gloom entered between our eyelids and penetrated to our\nsouls. We struck our colors. Like the Sybarite who got a pain in\nhis back from seeing some men at work in the field, we shivered in\nsympathy with every passing wretch.\n\nThat prince of blunderers, Sir Boyle Roche, used to say that the best\nway to avoid danger is to meet it plumb. Acting on that principle,\nBlanch and I took each a chair and a window, and, seating ourselves,\nstared silently in the face of the enemy.\n\nAfter an hour or so, I began to feel the benefit of the baronet's\nprescription.\n\n\"Blanch,\" said I, brightening, \"let's go on a lark down to Maine, to\nthe northern part of Hancock County, to a place I know.\"\n\nBlanch turned her small, white face toward me, gave me a reproachful\nglance out of her pale-blue eyes, then drew her shawl closer about\nher throat, and resumed her gaze in the face of out-doors.\n\nI waited a moment, then pursued, \"Rain in town and rain in the\ncountry are two reigns, as the histories say. Lilies shrugging up\ntheir white shoulders, and roses shaking their pink faces to get rid\nof the drops; trees lucent green jewels in every leaf; birds laughing\nand scolding at the same time, casting bright little jokes from\nleafy covert to covert; brooks foaming through their channels like\nchampagne out of bottles--\"\n\n\"Never compare a greater thing to a less,\" interrupted Blanch, severe\nand rhetorical.\n\n\"So you think rain-water is better than champagne?\" I asked.\n\n\"No matter. Go on with your poetics.\"\n\n\"At this time the apple-trees are pink clouds of incense, and the\ncherry-trees are white clouds of incense, the maples are on fire;\nthere are fresh light-green sprouts on the dark-green spruces;\nthe flaky boughs of the cedars have put forth pale, spicy buds;\nand the silver birches glimmer under hovering mists of green.\nDeer are stealing out of the woods to browse in the openings, and\ngray rabbits hop across the long, still road, (there is but one\nroad.) The May-flowers are about gone; but dandelions, \"spring's\nlargess,\" are everywhere. Here and there is a clearing, over which\nthe surrounding wildness has thrown a gentle savagery, like lichen\nover rocks. The people (there are two) live in a log house. They\nnever get a newspaper till it is weeks old, perhaps not so soon, and\nthey know nothing of fashion. If we should appear to them now with\nour skirts slinking in at the ankles, and puffing out at the waist,\nwith chignons on our heads and hats on our noses, they would run\ninto the house and button the doors. Every thing there is peaceful.\nRumors of oppression, fraud, and war reach them not. I should not be\nsurprised if that were one of the places where they still vote for\nGeneral Jackson. Their most frequent visitors are bears, and wolves,\nand snappish little yellow foxes. In short, you have no idea how\ndelightful the place is.\"\n\n\"I am not like the Queen of Sheba,\" says Blanch. \"Though the half\nhad not been told me, my imagination would have out-built and\nout-hung and out-shone Solomon in all his glory. Who are these\npeople?\"\n\n\"Mr. Thomas and Mrs. Sally Smith. Sally lived with my mother as help\nwhen I was a little girl. On my tenth birthday, she gave me my first\nsmelling-bottle, purple glass with a silver-washed screw-top. The\nseason was July, and the day very warm. After holding my precious\npresent in my hand awhile, I opened it, and, in the innocence of\nmy heart, took a deliberate snuff. The result beggars description.\nWhen I became capable of thought, I believed that the top of my head\nhad been blown off. You remember in the _Arabian Nights_ the bottle\nout of which, when it was unstopped, a demon escaped? Well, that\nwas the same bottle. Sally used to boil molasses candy for me; and\nshe has braided my hair and boxed my ears many a time. But mother\ndidn't allow her to box my ears. Thomas lived in our town, and tried\nto support himself and make a fortune by keeping a market, but with\nslight success. He was always behindhand, and never got the dinner\nhome till the cook was at the point of distraction. They called him\nthe late Mr. Smith. By and by he and Sally got married, after a\ncourtship something like that of Barkis and Pegotty, and went into\nthe woods to live. My mother made and gave Sally her wedding-cake,\none large loaf and four smaller ones. The large one would have been\nlarger if my brother Dick and I hadn't got at it before it was baked\nand ate ever so much. Did you ever eat raw cake? It is real good. I\npaid Sally a visit long ago, and she made me promise to come again.\"\n\n\"I dare say it is all moon-shine,\" said Blanch, rising. \"But, here\ngoes.\"\n\n\"Where to?\" I exclaimed.\n\n\"To pack my trunks for a visit to Sally Smith,\" answered Blanch from\nthe doorway.\n\n\"But I was in fun.\"\n\n\"And I am in earnest.\"\n\n\"And perhaps the facts are not so fair as the fancies.\"\n\n\"So much the worse for the facts.\"\n\nWith which quotation the young woman disappeared.\n\nResistance was useless. Blanch is one of those gentle, yielding\ncreatures who always have their own way. And I love to be tyrannized\nover. I followed her up-stairs, repeating ruefully,\n\n    \"Since then I never dared to be\n      As funny as I can.\"\n\nCatch me being poetic again!\n\nThat very evening a letter was mailed to Sally Smith, announcing\nour coming; and in less than a week we started, lingering over the\nfirst part of our journey, that due preparation might be made for our\nentertainment. The last day and a half were to be an allegro movement.\n\nThe drive from Bucksport to Ellsworth was delightful; not the\nbeginning of it, where twelve persons were crowded into a\nnine-passenger coach; where Blanch, looking like a wilted flower, sat\nwedged between two large, determined women; where my neighbor was a\nrestless man who was constantly trying to get something out of the\ncoat-pocket next me; and an aesthetic man, who insisted on looking\npast my nose at the prospect; and a tobacco-chewing man, as his\nbreath in my face fully testified: all this was not delightful. But\nafter we had entreated the driver, and been assisted to a perch on\nthe coach-roof, then it was glorious.\n\nThen we got airy tosses instead of dislocating jolts; saw the road\nunwind, turn by turn, from the woods; saw how the grating brake was\nput to the wheel while we crept over the brow of a steep pitch, then\nlet go while we spun down the lower part and flew over the level.\n\nThe afternoon sun was behind us, and gilded the hills; but the\nhollows were full of transparent dusk with the crowding, overhanging\nwoods. As we came up out of them, our horses strained forward\nto trample on a giant shadow-coach, with four shadow-horses, a\nshadow-driver, and two fly-away shadow-women in advance of every\nthing else.\n\nPresently the boughs ceased to catch at our veils, the woods thinned\nand withdrew, houses appeared and multiplied, and we came out on to\na long steep hill dipping to a river, whence another long steep hill\nrose at the other side. And built up and down, and to right and left,\nwas a pretty town with all its white houses rose-red in the sunset.\nWell might it blush under our faithful eyes!\n\n\"Blanch,\" I said, \"behold a town where, sixteen years ago, a Catholic\npriest almost won the crown of martyrdom. On the hill opposite,\ntoward the south, stood the Catholic church that was burned, and the\nCatholic school-house that was blown up with gunpowder. There is the\ncottage where the priest lived. One August evening, when the sky was\nlike a topaz with sunset, and the new moon was out, he baptized me\nthere, and a little while after they broke his windows with stones.\nFurther up the hill is the house from which, one rainy Saturday\nnight, a mob of masked men dragged him. Ah well! that story is yet to\nbe told.\"\n\n\nII.\n\nHE AND SHE.\n\nThe next morning early, we started on our last day's journey, and\nwere driven through a rough country, the road dwindling till it\nseemed likely to imitate that avenue which narrowed till it turned\ninto a squirrel-track and ran up a tree. At five o'clock, we stopped\nat a farm-house, which was also post-office; and there we got a man\nto take us to our journey's end.\n\n\"May be you'll take this letter with you,\" the postmaster said. \"It's\nfor Miss Smith.\"\n\n_Mrs._ is never heard in that region.\n\nI took that letter, and gazed at it a moment in wrathful silence.\nThere was my annunciatory epistle written to Sally Smith more than a\nfortnight before!\n\n\"Allah il Allah!\" sighed Blanch resignedly when I held up the letter\nto her view.\n\nThe road over which we now drove was streaked with grass that\ntempted the lowered nose of our Rozinante, and graceful clusters\nof buttercups brushed the slow spokes of our wheels. The forest\nprimeval shut down, solid and precipitous, at our left, and at our\nright the scrubby spruces clambered and straggled over the ledges\nwith the appearance of having just stopped to look at us; and in a\nlittle while we saw through their tops a log house that stood at the\nhead of a rocky lane. A thin wreath of smoke curled from the stone\nchimney, curtains of spotless whiteness showed inside the tiny hinged\nwindows, and a luxuriant hopvine draped all the wall next us. Not a\nrod back from the house, and drawn darkly against the sunset sky,\nwas a picture very like Dor\u00e9's bringing of the ark to Bethsames. A\ngroup of cattle stood there motionless, two low-bending spruce-trees\nunfurled their plumy branches over a square rock, and, as motionless\nas either, stood a tall, gaunt woman staring fixedly at us.\n\n\"Goodness gracious!\" cried Blanch sharply, \"the child will shoot us!\"\n\nFollowing her glance, I espied a tow-headed urchin of ten, may be,\nwhom our coming had petrified in the act of getting through the bars\nat the foot of the lane. Against the lower bar rested his rifle, the\nmuzzle looking us directly in the eye.\n\nI seized upon him and changed his aim.\n\n\"Your name is Larkin,\" I said accusingly.\n\n\"Yes, ma'am!\" he answered in a trembling voice.\n\n\"What are you here for?\"\n\n\"Ma'am sent me to borrow Miss Smith's darn'-needle,\" he whimpered.\n\n\"You have come four miles through the woods to borrow a\ndarning-needle?\" I demanded.\n\n\"Yes, ma'am!\" he answered, eagerly pointing to a huge needle with a\nblue yarn which was sewed into his blue drilling shirt-front.\n\n\"Is Mrs. Sally Smith alive?\" I asked solemnly.\n\n\"Yes, ma'am!\"\n\n\"Does she live in this house?\"\n\n\"Yes, ma'am!\"\n\n\"Does any one else live here?\"\n\n\"Yes, ma'am!\"\n\n\"Who?\"\n\n\"Mr. Smith.\"\n\n\"Well, set your rifle down here in the corner of the fence, and\nlook out how you aim it another time. There! now take this letter\nand carry it up to Mrs. Smith, and give her my compliments, and say\nthat we would like a reply at her earliest convenience. We may be\naddressed at the foot of the lane, sitting on our trunks.\"\n\nAs I released his arm, he shot wildly up the lane, and tumbled\nheadlong in at the weather-porch that guarded the northern door.\n\nIn a few minutes, a woman's head appeared and took an observation,\nwhile her two hands were visible smoothing her hair and rapidly\nadjusting an apron. Then the whole long figure emerged. At first\nshe walked warily, stopping once or twice as though about to turn\nback; then she gave a long look, and hurried down the lane, a broad\nsmile breaking out, token of recognition. Her voice reached me first,\n\"Well, I do declare, I'm tickled most to death to see you!\"\n\nWith the last words came a mighty grip of the hands, and Sally looked\nat me with eyes overflowing with tears and gladness.\n\nMost exquisite and dignified reader, didst thou ever think, when\nraising to thy lips the cut-glass goblet of iced water, poured from\na silver pitcher filled at a faucet supplied through a leaden pipe\nthat in its turn is fed by miles of underground aqueduct, that thou\nwouldst like rather to slake thy thirst at some natural spring\nbubbling over mossy stones and prostrate grasses? For once or twice,\nmay be? If so, all hail! for thou art not quite a mummy. Underneath\nthy social swathings still beats a faint echo of the bounding\npulse of some free-born ancestor, a sheik of the desert, a dusky\nforest-chief, a patriarch of the tents. Trampled on, thou wilt not\nturn to dust, but to fire; and the papyrus is unfinished on which\nshall be written the story of thy life.\n\nThere have been times, too, in which thou hast thought that not\nonly thy drink was far-fetched and no sweeter for the fetching, but\nthat the smiles, the welcomes, the fare-wells, the friendships were\nall stale and unrefreshing. Thou hast longed for the generous love,\nwhich, while it will bear nothing from thee, will bear all things for\nthee; for the honest hate that carries its blade in sight, and lurks\nnot in sly and sanctimonious speech and downcast eyes; for the noble\ntongue that knows not how to tell the spirit of a lie and save the\nletter.\n\nHere now before me were all these. Refreshing, _n'est ce pas?_ and\nvery delightful--for a time.\n\nBlanch and I were whirled into the house in the midst of a tornado of\nwelcomes, apologies, regrets, wonderings, and questions innumerable.\nBut as we were whisked through the kitchen, I had time to see all the\nold landmarks; the great stone fire-place, with a mantel-piece nearly\nout of reach, the bed, with its bright patch-work quilt, the broom\nof cedar-boughs behind the door, the strip-bottom chairs, the large\nblocks to eke out with when more seats were needed, the rough walls,\nthe immaculate neatness.\n\nThere were two rooms in the house, and we were suffered to sit only\nwhen we had reached the second. This was glorious with pictorial\nnewspapers pasted over the log walls, with a Job's patience quilt on\nthe bed, with two painted wooden chairs, and a chintz-covered divan,\na rag mat on the floor, two brass candlesticks on the mantel-piece, a\nlooking-glass six inches long, and a gay picture of a yellow-haired,\npraying Samuel, dressed in a blue night-gown, and kneeling on a red\ncushion.\n\nSally was so delightedly flustered by our coming that, as she said,\nshe did not know whether she was on her head or her heels, a doubt\nwhich so sensibly affected her movements that she was every moment\nmaking little inconsequent rushes where she had no need to go, and\nrepeating the same things over and over.\n\nPresently she sat still with a start, and listened to a heavy step\nthat came through the porch and into the kitchen.\n\n\"Sh-h-h! There he comes!\" she whispered.\n\nIn fact, I had already caught a glimpse through the chimney-back of a\nman in his shirt-sleeves, who hung up a tattered straw hat, and took\ndown from its nail a tin washbasin with a long handle, like a skillet.\n\n\"Sally!\" he called out, splashing a dipperful of water into the basin.\n\n\"Whot?\" returned Sally, with a facetious nod at me.\n\n\"Who's been here this afternoon? I see wagon-tracks down in the road.\"\n\n\"Boarders!\" says Sally, with another nod and wink.\n\n\"Boarders? What for?\" came in a tone of amazement; and through a\nchink in the rock chimney I could see his wet face turned, listening\nfor her answer, and his dripping hands suspended.\n\n\"To get boarded,\" replied Sally succinctly.\n\nSuch an astounding announcement required immediate explanation, and\nMr. Smith was coming in a dripping state to demand one, when his wife\njumped up to intercept him.\n\n\"Guess who's come!\" she said, stopping him in the entry.\n\n\"Who?\" he asked in a stentorian whisper.\n\n\"Mary!\" says dear Sally, with a little burst of gladness that brought\ntears to my eyes.\n\n\"Mary who?\"--with the same preposterous feint of secrecy.\n\n\"Why, bobolink Mary, you great goose!\"\n\n\"You don't say so!\" exclaimed Mr. Smith, and as he spoke, his face,\nwith wide-open eyes and mouth, appeared over Sally's shoulder,\nthen disappeared instantly at sight of Blanch. Nor would our host\npermit me to come to him, nor make himself visible again till he had\ngone through a tremendous scrubbing and brushing, all of which was\nperfectly audible to us. Then he came in, sleek and shining, and gave\nus a hearty though embarrassed welcome, bowing before Blanch with a\nmovement like the shutting up of a pocket-knife, and greatly confused\non finding himself obliged to take her small hand.\n\nI am bound to say that Blanch behaved exquisitely. She could not help\nbeing dainty and delicate; but she showed herself so unaffectedly\ndelighted with every thing and every body that her daintiness was not\nremembered against her. Besides, she had the good taste not to try to\nimitate their rough ways, but remained simply herself.\n\nSally disappeared presently, and in a surprisingly short space of\ntime returned to tell us, with a very red face, that supper was ready.\n\nThere was a momentary cloud of doubt over Blanch's face; but I went\nunfearing, and the event justified my confidence. The coarsest of\ndelf, to be sure, and a cotton cloth, and steel forks, and a tin\ncoffee-pot. But whatever could be polished shone like the sun, and\nwhatever could be white was like snow. As to the supper, it was\nworthy of the pen of Mr. Secretary Pepys. The traditional delicacies\nof a country table are taken for granted; but the coffee was a\nglorious work of supererogation, and delicious enough to be handed\nabout in the paradise of Mohammedans. Besides this, Sally, with a\nrecollection of one of my mother's pretty ways, had laid a sprig\nof fragrant sweet-brier beside each plate, and with mine a drowsy\ndandelion just shutting its golden rays.\n\n\"You must excuse me for giving you deer meat,\" said our hostess\nwith great humility; \"I haven't any other kind on hand to-day; but\nto-morrow--\"\n\nShe stopped short in the act of setting the dish on the table,\nunspeakably mortified by the incredulous stare with which Blanch\nregarded her.\n\n\"If you don't like it--\" she began stammering.\n\nWe immediately explained that Blanch was simply astonished at an\napology being offered with venison, whereat Sally grew radiant.\n\nMr. Smith did not appear at the table. He insisted that he had been\nto supper, but abstained from mentioning the day on which he last\npartook of that meal. Indeed, during all the time Blanch and I were\nin that house we never saw the master of it eat one mouthful.\n\n\"He never will sit down with folks,\" Sally whispered privately to me\nas we left the table.\n\nWhen Sally said \"he,\" pure and simple, she always meant her husband.\nShe had a dim consciousness that there were other, nebulous\nmasculines in the world; but to her mind Mr. Thomas Smith was the\nbright particular HE.\n\nAt eight o'clock we went to bed by the pure, pale twilight of June,\nand sank up to our eyes in feathers.\n\n\"Oh!\" cried Blanch, \"I'm going through to China!\"\n\n\"Never mind!\" I said encouragingly, \"to-morrow we will put this\nabsurd puff-ball underneath, and promote the straw-bed.\"\n\n\"Straw!\" exclaimed a voice from the depths.\n\n\"Yes! pretty, yellow, shining straws, such as you suck mint-juleps\nthrough. Well, don't get excited! Straws such as your brother Tom\nsucks mint-juleps through. Good-night, honey!\"\n\nI heard her whisper a prayer. Then we dropped asleep peacefully;\nwhile with steadfast eyes of holy fire our angels kept watch and ward.\n\n\nIII.\n\nBIPEDS WITH FEATHERS.\n\nThe next morning the unaccustomed stillness woke us early; and there\nwas a long, golden beam of sunlight stretched across the bare floor.\nThe hop-leaves hanging over the eastern window were translucent, and\nmore gold than green, and all round their edges hung radiant drops of\ndew, slowly gathering and falling.\n\nBlanch smiled, but said nothing, scarcely spoke a word to God, even,\nI think, but knelt and let her prayer exhale from her, like dew from\nthe morning earth.\n\nThe kitchen was all in order when we went out. It was shaded,\nexquisitely clean, swept through by a soft draught, and finely\nperfumed by the new cedar broom which Thomas had made that morning.\nIn the fire-place lay a heap of hard-wood coals in a solid glow, but\nthe heat of them all went up chimney. The table was set for two, and\nbreakfast ready all but cooking the eggs. Sally held a bowl of these\nin her hand, while, outside, the hens were making loud affidavit to\ntheir freshness.\n\nAfter breakfast, Blanch put on a little scarlet sack, took her\nparasol, and went out to reconnoitre. Sally and I staid in the house\nand talked over old times, while she washed the dishes and I wiped\nthem. Old times, even the happiest, are sad to recall, and we soon\nfell into silence. In that pause, Sally wrung out her dish-cloth,\ngave it a scientific shake that made it snap like a whip-lash, and\nhung it up on two nails to dry. Then she wiped her eyes on her sleeve.\n\n\"Land sakes!\" she exclaimed, \"what's that?\" and rushed out doors,\ncatching the broom on her way. I followed with the shovel, for \"that\"\nwas a scream which unmistakably came from Blanch.\n\nThere was neither savage nor wild beast in sight, nor was Blanch\nvisible; but there was a great commotion in the poultry-yard, and a\nlarge turkey-gobbler of a military appearance was strutting about in\nfull feather and declaiming in some foreign language. It sounded like\nlow Dutch. What he said seemed to make a great impression on the hens\nand geese, for they looked awe-struck.\n\nPresently we espied Blanch at the very top of one of the highest\nboard fences that ever was built, clinging for dear life.\n\n\"I don't know how I ever got here,\" she said piteously. \"The last\nrecollection I have is of that horrid creature ruffling himself all\nup and coming at me. Then I came right up. And that's all I know. But\nI can't get down again.\"\n\nI got a little ladder and helped Blanch down from her dangerous\nperch, while Sally kept the turkey-gobbler at bay, standing, broom in\nhand, in that position called in heraldry rampant-regardant.\n\n\"He doesn't like scarlet very well,\" she remarked. \"It isn't his\nfavorite color.\"\n\nThen we went to see Mrs. Partington, a large gray hen, which was that\nmorning taking her first airing with a new brood. She had been set on\ngoose-eggs, which had, naturally, hatched out goslings; but she did\nnot know it.\n\n\"Now,\" said Sally, \"if you want to see an astonished hen, come along.\"\n\nThere was a duck-pond near, and some instinct in the goslings led\nthem that way. Mrs. Partington yielded, like a fond, indulgent\nmother, and clucked along full of _na\u00efve_ consequence and\ngood-nature. But at a little distance from the margin she paused,\ncalled her brood about her, and began to talk to them in a gray,\ncomfortable, complacent voice. I suppose she was telling them how\ndangerous water is. They listened first with one side of their\nheads, then with the other, and two of them winked at each other,\nand made little irresistible shies toward the pond. They looked like\ngreen eggs on two sticks. The hen left off her lecture, clucked\nloudly, spread her wings, and ran after them. But the next instant a\nshriek broke from her bill; for, as every body knows, of course, the\ngoslings all plunged headlong into the pond.\n\nPoor Mrs. Partington was, indeed, an astonished hen. She was more:\nshe was a transfixed hen. She stood gazing at them in horror,\nevidently expecting to see every one of them keel over and go to the\nbottom. But no; the little voyagers floated about quite at their\nease, striking out with their tiny paddles, their downy backs and\nabsurd little heads shedding the water beautifully.\n\n\"She must know now that they are goslings,\" said Blanch.\n\n\"Goslings? Not she!\" answered Sally. \"Ten to one she thinks that she\nis a goose. No, that hen will go down to the platter without finding\nout that she has been cheated.\"\n\nWe had a busy day. We went to see the frame-house that Mr. Smith had\nbegun to raise, and Sally's dairy in the cellar of it; we promoted\nour straw-bed, filled our fireplace with pine boughs, thus cutting\noff the view through the chimney-back; unpacked our trunks and set up\nour graven images; and, when sunset was near, went out into the woods\nat the foot of Spruce Mountain to get a pail of water from a little\nJohannisberger of a spring there. The mountain was between us and the\nsunset, and the woods were in shadow; but up over the lofty tree-tops\nthe red and golden lights floated past, and every little pool, among\nits treasures of reflected foliage, airy nest of bird, and bending\nflower, held warmly its bit of azure sky, and crimson or golden\ncloud. Presently we came to where, at the foot of a spruce-tree,\nour spring lay like a fire-opal, with that one spark down among\nits haunting shadows. A cool green darkness fell into it from the\noverhanging boughs, velvet mosses growing close rimmed it with a\nbrighter emerald, gray of trunk, branch, and twig melted into it,\nmilky little flowers nodded over at their milky little twins below,\nand in the midst burned that live coal of the sunset. When we plunged\nour tin pail into this spring, it was as though we were going to dip\nup jewels. But instantly we touched the water, it whitened all over\nwith a silvery-rippled mail, the colors disappeared, and we brought\nup only crystal clearness. The next moment, though, the throbbing\nwaters subsided, and the many-tinted enchantment stole tremulously\nback again.\n\nWhen we went to bed that night, a shower was prowling about the\nhorizon, and over on Spruce Mountain the wolves were howling back\ndefiance to the thunders.\n\nWhat a lovely, savage week it was that followed! Somewhere in it was\ndissolved a Sunday; but we were scarcely aware of it, there was so\nlittle to mark the day.\n\nIn that week we learned one fact that was new to us, and that was the\nprofound melancholy that reigns in the woods. Looking back, we could\nrecollect that the impression had always, though unconsciously, been\nthe same. Is it that in the forest Pan alone is the chosen god? and\nthat there is still mourned that day when\n\n    \"The parting genius was with sighing rent.\"\n\nOr is the sadness because He who once came down to walk among the\ntrees, and call through the dews, comes no more?\n\nWhatever may be the reason, melancholy is enthroned in the forest.\n\n\nIV.\n\nA DIAMOND-WASHING.\n\nOn one of those days, Blanch and I, after a severe dispute on the\nsubject with Sally, did a washing. Sally said we shouldn't; but wash\nwe would, and wash we did.\n\nWe rose at early white dawn, kilted up our wrappers, shouldered\nour clothes-bag, took soap, matches, and kindlings, and started. A\npath led us past the new frame-house and a grove beyond it to the\nwash-room. This was a noble apartment about forty rods long by thirty\nwide, and was walled in by cedar and pine columns with the branches\nand foliage left on, a great improvement on Solomon's building. The\ncornice was delicately traced against a pale-blue ceiling frescoed\nwith silver, the most beautiful ceiling I have ever seen. The carpet\nwas a green velvet pile, thickly diapered with small gold-colored\nand white flowers in an irregular pattern, and beaded all over with\ncrystals. Near the door by which we entered was one of the most\ncharming imitations of rustic scenery to be found at home or abroad.\nA huge granite boulder, broken and hollowed roughly, had a thread of\nsparkling water bubbling up through a rift in it, and overflowing its\nbasin in a rivulet. Near this stood two forked poles with a large\ncopper kettle suspended from a cross-pole. Underneath the kettle were\nthe ashes of more than one fire. Countless birds flew about, singing\nas well as if they had been sent to Paris. On the whole, it was a\npicture which would have drawn a crowd at any exhibition.\n\nWood was there, covered from the dew with green boughs. We placed\nour kindlings, lighted them with a match scraped inside Blanch's\nslipper, and soon a blue column of smoke was rising straight into\nthe morning air, and the flames were growing. Then we filled the\ngreat kettle with water from the fountain of Arethusa, and, as soon\nas it was warm, began to wash. For one hour there was nothing but\nsilence and scrubbing; then a loud war-whoop through Sally's hands\nannounced that breakfast was ready. By that time our clothes were all\nwashed and bubbling in the boiler. Looking about then, we saw that\nevery cedar pillar had a golden capital; cloth of gold was spread\nhere and there in long stretches, and the frescoes had changed their\nshape, and, instead of silver, were rosy and golden.\n\nPoor Sally, looking at us ruefully when we went in, asked to see\nour hands. They were worth looking at, all the skin being off the\nbacks of them, and the insides puckered up into the most curious\nand complex wrinkles. We ate with glorious appetites, though, had\nanother engagement with Sally, who wanted us to lie down to rest, and\nhave our hands bandaged, and went back to find our clothes wabbling\nclumsily, but quite to our satisfaction. We upset our tubs and rinsed\nthem, then set them up and filled with cold water again. Next we took\neach a clothes-stick, fished something from the kettle with it, ran\nwith it boiling hot at the stick's end, and soused it into one of\nthe tubs. We had to run a good many times, probably a mile in all.\nWe squeezed the clothes out of this pickle, called by the initiated\n\"boiled suds;\" refilled our tubs, and performed that last operation\n\"of rinsing,\" which took the puckered insides quite out of our hands,\nleaving them almost innocent of cuticle.\n\n\"My dear,\" said Blanch, as we spread our washing out on the green,\n\"every woman on earth ought to do one washing. It would do their\nsouls good, though it should temporarily damage their bodies. My\nlaundress is a new being to me from this day. I mean to double her\nwages.\"\n\n\"Oh!\" she exclaimed suddenly, and held up the bleeding forefinger of\nher left hand. \"My ring! I have lost it; it is washed away.\"\n\nThe poor child looked distressed, and no wonder; for the missing\ncluster was a _souvenir_.\n\nWe set ourselves to search, but in vain. On each side of our grassy\nbench, three tubs of water had been spilt, and had wandered in\ndevious ways, and to some distance. We sawed our sore fingers on the\nnotched edges of the grass-blades, to no purpose.\n\n\"It was careless of you, Blanch,\" I said austerely. \"You should have\nrecollected that the ring was loose--\"\n\nA twinkle appeared in Blanch's eyes, if not on her finger. I followed\nthe direction of her significant glance, and behold! where the\nlambent _solitaire_ had burned on my hand, was an aching void!\n\n\"My angel,\" said Blanch sweetly, \"did you ever hear of\ndiamond-washings?\"\n\n\nV.\n\nA MISS IS AS GOOD AS A MILE.\n\nWhen Sunday came round a second time, we were aware of it. Every day\nhad been to us like a crystal brimming cup overflowing to quench the\nday's thirst; but looking out into this Sunday, we saw only a golden\nemptiness.\n\nTears hung on Blanch's long eyelashes. \"Think of all the blessed\nopen church-doors,\" she said. \"It makes me homesick. I want to go to\nmass. Even a fiddling, frescoed, full-dress mass would be better than\nnone.\"\n\nI quoted my friend, Sir Boyle Roche, \"'Can a man be like a bird, in\ntwo places at once?' Besides, little one, if you were in town, it is\nnot unlikely that you might stay at home all day because your new hat\nwas not becoming, or because of the hot sun, or the east wind, or the\nmud, or the dust.\"\n\nThe dear child blushed. \"But then one likes to know that one can go,\"\nshe said meekly.\n\nSally and her husband were going five miles to meeting that day.\nThey started early; and we watched them go soberly off in single\nfile till the trees hid first the large brim of Sally's preposterous\nbonnet, then the crown of Mr. Smith's antique hat. Then we went\nin and prepared a little altar, with a statuette of the Virgin,\na crucifix, candles and flowers, and, lifting up our hearts in\nthat wild solitude, assisted at some far-away mass. There was no\ninterruption, only a group of deer stood without, at the distance of\na stone's throw, as motionless as gray marble statues, and watched\nus with soft, intent eyes. After we had got through and were sitting\nsilently, the candles still burning, some Roman Catholic hummingbirds\ndashed in and sucked the honey out of the wild roses we had given\nour Lady, but left a sweet thought instead. When the buzz of their\nwings was gone, we heard robins and a bobolink outside, and a chorus\nof little twitterers singing a Laudate. \"Amen!\" said Blanch. The\nunclouded sunlight steeped the surrounding forest in sultry splendor,\nand clouds of perfume rose, like incense, from pine, and fir, and\nhemlock, from thousands of little blossoms, from plots of red and\nwhite clover, heavy with honey, from censers of anemones, and,\nthreading all these sweets of sound, perfume, and sight together, was\nthe bubbling voice of a brook murmuring Paters and Aves over its\npebbles.\n\nBlanch smiled, and repeated softly:\n\n    \"The waters all over the earth rejoice\n    In many a hushed and silvery voice;\n    'In Jordan we covered Him, foot and crown,\n    While the dove of the Spirit came fluttering down.\n\n    \"'We steadied his keel at the crowded beach,\n    When the multitude gathered to hear him teach;\n    The feet of our Master we smoothly bore,\n    And he walked the sea as a paven floor.\n\n    \"'When the tempest lashed each foamy crest,\n    At his 'Peace, be still!' we sank to rest.\n    And we laughed into wine, when he came to see\n    The marriage in Cana of Galilee.'\n\n    \"The stars that fade in the growing day\n    Have each a tremulous word to say;\n    'We sang, we sang, as we hung above\n    The lowly cradle of Infinite Love.'\n\n    \"The low winds whisper, 'We fanned in his hair\n    The flame of an unseen aureole there.'\n    And the lily, pallid with rapture, cries,\n    'I blanched in the light of his fervent eyes!'\n\n    \"Voices of earth and air unite,\n    Voices of day and voices of night,\n    Flinging their memories into the way\n    Of the coming in of the dear Lord's day.\n\n    \"O Christ! we join with them to bless\n    Thy name in love and thankfulness;\n    And cry as we kneel before thy throne,\n    We are all thine own! we are all thine own!\"\n\nWhen Sally and Mr. Smith came home that afternoon, they were\naccompanied by a tall, stiff, severe man in black, at the first sight\nof whom Blanch and I got our hats for a walk. It was Elder Samson,\ncome up to convert the idolaters. We knew well what hydra-headed\ndiscourse he had prepared to devour our patience, our charity, our\ncivility even. Discretion was the better part of valor, we concluded,\nand fled, leaving, alas! the statuette of our Lady, with the candles\nburning beside her, and the wild roses clinging about and kissing\nher feet. If we had but known! But we did not then, nor till long\nafterward. When we came back, every thing was, apparently, as we had\nleft it. But, when Sally came to town in the fall, she told how, the\nmoment the elder saw our graven image, he flew into a holy rage,\nflung it, roses and all, out the window, and would have flung the\ncandles after it, if she had not rescued them by main force. The\nresult was an illustration of the church militant, in which rather\nhigh words passed between Sally and the elder. Mr. Smith, feebly\ninterposing to take the part of his clerical visitor, was routed\nutterly.\n\nBut meantime, in happy unconsciousness, Blanch and I walked down\nthe road, and down and down the road, a mile, and another mile, and\nagain a mile, through the green and flowery solitude, flecked and\nflickering with sunlight and shadow, the silence only softly stirred\nby a multitudinous rustling of leaves. Now and then we saw a deer by\nthe road-side; and far away in the woods the foxes snarled and barked.\n\nOur walk ended on a long log that bridged a brook, and there we stood\nand looked up to see the waters come down to us. Presently, instead\nof their flowing down, we seemed to float up. We were going up to\nthe cradle of this dancing stream, to some enchanted land where the\nbaby rivulet first saw the sun. We were going back, also, to our own\nchildhood, floating up and up to careless days, leaving the heavy\nyears behind.\n\nWhen we came back from that far-away country, a little sea-sick\nwith our journey, I turned to see Blanch looking at me with great\nattention.\n\n\"My dear,\" she said, \"you are the most absurd figure I recollect to\nhave seen in the whole course of my life. If it were not deplorable\nthat human taste should be so perverted, I should find you ludicrous.\"\n\n\"So you have found it out,\" I replied, highly edified. \"I have been\nthinking the same of you this week past. Of course any one with eyes\ncan see that Sally in her straight gown and big apron, with her hair\nin a pug, is better dressed than we.\"\n\nBlanch had brought Mr. Smith's pistol with her. She always took it\nwhen we went into the woods; for she considered herself a pretty good\nshot. She had at home a pasteboard target full of little holes, the\nbest one about six inches from the centre, all made by shots fired by\nher at a distance of twenty feet.\n\nShe felt safer to take the pistol, she said; for if any animal were\nto attack us, she could be sure to wound if not to kill it. \"No\nanimal,\" she argued very sensibly, \"could be dangerous at a distance\nof twenty feet or more. And if he should come within that, I could\nnot fail hitting pretty near his head or heart. You see, I missed\nonly six inches in the shooting-gallery, and a bear or a wolf would\nbe much larger than my target.\"\n\nWhen you want to convince others, always speak as though your\nproposition is unquestionable. Every body knows that the majority\nof persons in the majority of cases find it troublesome to think\nfor themselves, and that if you are positive enough, you can make\nthem believe any thing. If Blanch had been a shade less logical and\ndecided, I might have submitted that a pasteboard target does not\npounce upon you and hug you to death, or tear you into inch pieces\nwhile you are taking aim, and that with a wild live creature to glare\nback with two great threatening eyes into her one blue eye looking\nat him, like a murderous violet, over the pistol-barrel, her nerves\nmight be shaken to the extent of another six inches from the mark.\nBut her air was one of such perfect conviction that my subjunctive\ncase expired without a sigh.\n\nThe tree-tops were still full of sunshine when we started to go home,\nbut the road was shaded. Blanch seemed a little uneasy.\n\n\"I believe we'd be awful good to eat,\" she said apprehensively. Even\nin speaking, she stopped short, I stopped, we stopped all two, as the\nFrench say. Directly in front of us and not far away, sitting with an\nair of deliberation in the middle of the road, was a large, clumsy,\nshaggy beast that looked at us with an inexplicable expression. I\nhad never had the pleasure of an introduction to this animal, but\nnone was needed. I had seen his portrait on the outside of hair-oil\nbottles. The resemblance was striking.\n\nBlanch turned very red, and raised her pistol.\n\n\"Shall I fire?\" asked the little heroine in a stage-whisper.\n\n\"Fire!\"\n\nHer hand was trembling like a leaf in the wind; but she took\nbeautiful aim, and I am bound to confess that her pasteboard target\ncould not have received the attention with more unmoved tranquillity.\nThe pistol went hard, though, and the pull she had to give the\ntrigger brought the muzzle down, so that instead of the shot striking\nwithin six inches of the bear's heart or brain, it struck up a little\npuff of dust, and took off the devoted head of a buttercup about five\nfeet from us.\n\n\"Have I hit him?\" she asked breathlessly, opening her eyes. She had\nshut them very tight on firing.\n\nShe had not hit him; but he took the hint, and got himself clumsily\nout of the way. I thought he acted as though his feelings were hurt.\n\nI have forgotten whether we ran. I am inclined to think that we did\nnot. But we were not long in getting home, and then the elder was\ngone.\n\n\nVI.\n\nHOMESICK.\n\nA pathetic little incident happened that week, which suggested\nmany thoughts to us. Passing by a cleared space in the woods one\nafternoon, Mr. Smith saw a deer family quietly grazing there.\nPlentiful as these creatures were in that region, they never suffered\na near approach; but this group looked at the intruder peacefully and\nshowed no sign of alarm.\n\nIs there on earth an animal more fierce and cruel than man in deed if\nnot in intention? This man did not deliberately mean to perpetrate a\nfiendish act; but no otherwise could what he did be characterized.\nHe did not want the venison, the skins, the graceful antlers; but he\nfancied it rather a fine thing to have that bounding target still for\na moment. His rifle was over his shoulder; he lowered it, and took\naim at the stag's stately front. There was a report; the creature\ngave one leap into the air, then fell, shot through the forehead.\n\nNot even then did the others fly. While he loaded his rifle again,\nthey bent over their prostrate companion, touching him, moved by what\nmute, incredulous grief, who can say? The marksman gleefully took aim\nagain, and the doe fell with a bullet through her heart, and sobbed\nher life away. When Mr. Smith saw the young one put its head down to\nthe mother's, for the first time some compunction touched his coarse,\nunsympathetic soul. But he had gone too far to retreat, and in a few\nminutes the fawn lay dead beside its mother.\n\nSally reproached her husband passionately when he told her the story\nof his wonderful feat.\n\n\"If dumb creatures were like men,\" she said, \"the wild beasts would\nget up a mob to-night, and come here and lynch us; and not be to\nblame either!\"\n\nBlanch and I left Mr. Smith meekly taking his castigation, and went\nout to see his victims.\n\nThey lay where they had fallen, on the greensward, poor creatures! a\nsad blot upon the peaceful scene, their innocent, happy lives quite\nebbed away. We stood by them a little while in the sunny silence,\nand it seemed as though every thing living shrank from us. We had\nnever before been out without seeing some form of that wild animal\nlife with which the woods were teeming. But now there was no sound of\nskittish steps evading us, no glimpse of shadowy figures among the\ntrees. All was silent and dead.\n\nWe went to the road-side, and, seating ourselves on the moss under an\naspen-tree, mourned silently. And thinking of the slaughtered deer, I\nthought of the first death in Eden; and from that, of the first sin\nin the world; and from that, of all the sin and sorrow that is in the\nworld; and from that, of Him who came to restore us to the true Eden,\nthe city of real peace, and how he stays here unseen, and watches\nlest we kill or are killed; and then I thought, \"The nearer one keeps\nto the place where he is, the better.\"\n\nBlanch half reclined, leaning on her elbow, and her face looked\nlike a pale flame in the flickering shadow of the tree above us.\nShe stretched her hand and touched tenderly a lovely spray of\npartridge-berry that trailed over the moss, but did not break it.\nThen she looked up.\n\n\"Minnie,\" she said, \"I'm homesick.\"\n\n\"So am I.\"\n\n\"When will we start?\"\n\n\"To-morrow.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE \"ADAM\" OF ANDREINI.\n\n\nVoltaire, in his life of Milton, mentioned the fact that in his youth\nthe poet witnessed at Milan the representation of a drama entitled,\n_Adam; or, Original Sin_, written by \"a certain Gio. Battista\nAndreini,\" a Florentine, and dedicated to Marie de' Medici, Queen\nof France. The French writer stated that Milton must have taken\nwith him to England a copy of the work. His account was repeated by\nother biographers of the great English poet, some of whom alluded to\nthe Italian poem as \"a farce.\" In consequence of their unfavorable\njudgment, the impression has prevailed that Milton was not indebted\nto Andreini for the conception of his _Paradise Lost_, but that\nthe grandeur and sublimity of the invention belong solely to him.\nAndreini's work fell into oblivion soon after its production, and has\nremained unappreciated even by the author's countrymen; so that it is\nnot surprising that the honors due the Catholic poet have not been\nrendered by English or American critics or readers.\n\nThe mystery, tragedy, or sacred drama of _Adam_, composed by\nAndreini, was represented at Milan early in the seventeenth century,\nand was received with such enthusiasm that the author was invited to\nthe French court by Queen Mary, and was there loaded with honors. A\nsplendid edition of his work, dedicated to the queen, illustrated\nwith plates and a portrait of the author, was issued at Milan in\n1617. Such a reception shows the estimation in which his production\nwas held at the time. Defects which did not interfere with the\ngrandeur of the original design impaired its popularity afterward.\nThe author was numbered among the _Seicentisti_, and belonged to a\nschool noted for its departure from simplicity; for false refinements\nand extravagant conceits. Under the influence of such writers as\nMarini, Lappi, Redi, etc., in an age of pedantry, poetry was removed\nfrom nature, and dragged from her proper sphere. But though Andreini\nlived amidst the prevalence of a corrupt taste, and his _style_ was\nin some degree tainted, it could not have been expected that any\nsucceeding school, however correct, should trample under foot the\n_substance_ of his work, and slight its sublimity of conception, to\nwhich a more enlightened age should have done justice. Such justice,\nnevertheless, has been denied him.\n\nAfter it had been forgotten more than two hundred years, a tardy\nacknowledgment of Andreini's merit was paid by a few Italian critics,\nand a small, unadorned edition of his work was again published at\nLucano; but in such an unattractive form that it seems to have\nawakened little attention. A few copies of the first edition were\nsold as a great literary curiosity. One, purchased at a large price,\naffords us an opportunity of examining the claim so long buried in\nobscurity, and to see how much the author of _Paradise Lost_ has\nreally borrowed.\n\nIt is well known that Milton's first idea, in treating the subject,\nwas to write a tragedy; and that he had actually composed some scenes\nbefore he finally resolved to transfer his pencil to a vaster canvas.\nThe difference between the epic and dramatic form gave a great\nadvantage to the English poet. All the ornaments of description, in\nwhich _Paradise Lost_ is so rich, were denied to Andreini, since they\ncould not be admitted into dialogue. That Milton saw and profited by\nAndreini's tragedy, can be proved not only by external testimony,\nbut by evidence contained in almost every page of his work. We must\nlook to the conception and to the expression of thought, in drawing\nthe comparison between the two, which will conclusively show Andreini\nto be in truth the precursor of Milton, the original author of the\ndesign elaborated in _Paradise Lost_. We will give an analysis of the\ndrama, with extracts faithfully translated, rendering the literal\nsense of the original.[184]\n\nThe scene of the tragedy is in the terrestrial paradise. The\ninterlocutors are the Eternal Father, Michael and a chorus of angels,\nAdam and Eve, Lucifer, the Prince of Hell, Satan, Beelzebub, the\nSeven Deadly Sins, besides various allegorical personages, such\nas the World and the Flesh, Hunger, Fatigue, Despair, Death, and\nVainglory, with a chorus of infernal messengers and spirits of the\nelements. The author's own summary will give the most accurate idea\nof the piece. A chorus of angels in the prologue sing the glory of\nthe eternal God, calling upon the new creation to praise him. The\nfuture advent of the Incarnate Word is dimly predicted. The Almighty\nis completing his vast work by the formation of man; the new being\nis welcomed in strains of jubilee and rejoicing by the shining choir\nabout him, and the scene proceeds with solemnity and magnificence, in\nlanguage elevated and sublime. The ecstasy of the newly created at\nthe glory revealed to his senses by the celestial train who \"cleave\nheaven with their wings of gold,\" and his devout aspirations of love\nand homage toward his Creator, are admirably expressed. Adam adores\nthe ineffable mysteries of the Trinity and the coming Incarnation.\nThe verse throughout this scene is in lyrical measures adapted to the\nsubject, and to the emotions uttered.\n\nAdam falls into sleep, and Eve is created and named \"woman\" by the\neternal Father. A resemblance may be discovered by the curious\nbetween the ascent of the heavenly train from Eden, after the\nblessing is pronounced and the work completed, and a similar\ndescription in the seventh book of _Paradise Lost_. Adam then points\nout to Eve the wonders of the new world, rehearses the divine command\nand prohibition, and inspires her with love for the beneficent Being\nwho gave them all:\n\n          \"_Adam._ Lo! the deep azure of yon heaven, where oft\n        That bright and wandering star,\n        Herald of radiance yet afar,\n        Shall dart its welcome ray\n        To ope the richer glories of the day.\n        Then the majestic sun,\n        To fill the earth with joy,\n    O'er her glad face shall fling his golden light;\n        Till weary of his reign,\n        The pure and silvery moon,\n        With all her starry train,\n    Shall come to grace the festal pomp of night\n        Lo! where above all other elements\n        The subtle flame ascends, outshining all:\n        Lo! where the soft transparent air uplifts\n        Bright-plumaged birds, with notes of melody\n          Measuring the happy hours!\n        Lo! the vast bosom of propitious earth,\n        With opening flowers, with glowing fruit adorned,\n        And her green tresses that the crown sustain\n        Upon her mountain summits, and her sceptre\n        Of towering trees. Behold! the azure field\n        Of ocean's empire! where 'mid humid sands,\n        And his deep valleys, and the myriad hosts\n        Of his mute tribes, and treasures of fair pearls,\n        And purple gems, his billows roll and plough.\n        Bearing to heaven his proud and stormy head,\n        Crowned with the garlands rifled from the deep--\n        Glory and wonder all! Of One they speak.\n          Their great Creator!\"\n\nIn the second scene, Lucifer rises from the abyss; and at the first\nglance we recognize the conception which is one of the chief glories\nof _Paradise Lost_. The apostate of this piece, like Milton's Satan,\nis a majestic being, stem, defying, and dreadless, even in despair.\nPride, indomitable pride, is still his master passion; in the midst\nof his blood-chilling irony and impiety, we lose not the awe inspired\nby a mighty nature, still mighty and commanding, though perverted to\nevil; nor forget that his \"faded splendor wan\" is but\n\n                  \"the excess\n    Of glory obscured.\"\n\nIn a bold and haughty strain, well befitting the \"lost archangel,\"\n\"vaunting aloud, though racked with deep despair,\" he gives vent to\nthe envy and hatred of his rebellious spirit:\n\n                \"From mine abode of gloom\n    Who calls me to behold this hateful light?\n    What wonders, strange and new,\n    Hast thou prepared, O God! to blast my sight?\n    Art thou, Creator, weary of thy heaven,\n    That thou hast made on earth\n    A paradise so fair?\n    Or why hast thou placed here\n    Beings of flesh that God's own semblance wear?\n    Say, condescending Architect! who fram'dst\n    Such work from clay, what destiny awaits\n    This naked, helpless man, lone habitant\n    Of caves and woods?\n    Perchance he hopes one day to tread the stars!\n    Heaven is impoverished:[185] I alone the cause.\n    The exulting cause of that vast ruin! Add\n    Yet star to star; let suns and moons increase;\n    Toil yet, Creator, to adorn thy skies;\n    To make them bright and glorious as of old;\n    To prove at length how vain and scorned thy toil!\n    I--I alone--supplied that light which sent\n    A thousand splendors to the farthest heaven,\n    To which these lights are shadows, or reflect\n    With faint and feeble gleam my greater glory.\n    Yet reck I not, whate'er these things may be,\n    Or this new being: stern, unyielding still,\n    My aim, my purpose, is hostility\n    Implacable 'gainst man, and heaven, and God!\"\n\n                                               Act i. sc. 2.\n\nThe partners of his guilt and punishment, who join him in the garden,\nnow surround him; and we have a vivid picture of hell in the midst of\nParadise:\n\n      \"_Beelzebub._ Fierce is the torturing flame,\n    And deep the flood of venom in my soul.\n    Madness rules all within,\n    And my forced sighs like peals of thunder roll,\n    Each glance is scorching lightning, and my tears\n    Red drops of fire! From my seared front I would\n    Shake back the serpent locks that shroud my face,\n    To look upon this boasted work of heaven--\n    On these new demigods!...\n        Spirits! the lustre of eternal day\n    For ever quenched for you, and every sun\n    That fires the empyrean! A lost, sorrowing race\n    Heaven deems you now. Ye who were wont to tread\n    The radiant pathways of the skies, now press\n    The fields of endless night. For golden locks\n    And mien celestial, slimy serpents twine\n    Around your brows, hiding the vengeful glance;\n    Your haggard lips are parted to receive\n    A hideous air--while on them blasphemies\n    Hang thick, and ever with the damning words\n    Escape foul fumes of hell.\"\n\nThe remainder of the picture, in its minuteness of horror, partakes\ntoo much of the prevailing want of taste which disfigured the best\nproductions of the Italians of the seventeenth century. We select, of\ncourse, some of the striking passages of the poem, though we by no\nmeans include all its beauties in our extracts.\n\nThen Satan says:\n\n                        \"In deep abodes\n    Of gloom, and horror, and profound despair,\n    Still are we angels! Still do we excel\n    All else, even as the haughty lord excels\n    The humble, grovelling slave. If we unfold\n    Our wings so far from heaven, yet, yet remember\n    That we are lords, while others wear the yoke;\n    That, losing in yon heaven a lowly seat,\n    We raise instead, stupendous and sublime,\n    A regal throne, whereon our chosen chief,\n    Exalted by high deeds, mocks at his fate!\n    As some vast mountain, bounded by the skies,\n    Murmurs its kindling wrath against high heaven,\n    Threatens the stars, and wields a mighty sceptre\n    Of lurid flame, consuming while it shines,\n    More deadly than the sun's intensest ray,\n    Even when his beams are brightest!\"\n\nCan we not discover in the above passage the same spirit that\nanimates Milton's lines?\n\n    \"What matter where, if I be still the same,\n    And what I should be, all but less than He\n    Whom thunder hath made greater? Here, at least,\n    We shall be free; the Almighty hath not built\n    Here for his envy; will not drive us hence;\n    Here we may reign secure; and, in my choice,\n    To reign is worth ambition, though in hell;\n    Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven!\"\n\nThe same thought is expressed in Andreini's tragedy:\n\n                  \"Since greater happiness\n    It is to live, though damned, in liberty,\n    Than subject to be blest.\"\n\n                                              Act iv. sc. 2.\n\nLucifer, the chief, then discovers himself to his companions in\niniquity, and addresses them:\n\n    \"O ye powers\n    Immortal, valiant, great!\n    Angels, for lofty, warlike daring born!\n    I know the grief that gnaws your inmost hearts,\n    A living death! to see this creature man\n    Raised to a state so high\n    That each created being bows to him.\n    In your minds' depths the rankling fear is wrought\n    That to heaven's vacant seats, and robes of light,\n    (Those seats once ours, that pomp by us disdained,)\n    These earthly minions one day may aspire[186]\n    With their unnumbered hosts of future sons.\"\n\nSatan then darkly alludes to the future incarnation of the Son of\nGod; and Lucifer answers:\n\n    \"And can it be that from so feeble dust\n    A deity shall rise?\n    That Flesh--that God--whose power omnipotent\n    Shall bind us in these chains of hell for ever?\n    And can it be those who did boast themselves\n    The adored must stoop in humble suppliance\n    To such vile clay?\n    Shall angel bend a worshipper to man?\n    Shall flesh, born from impurity, surpass\n    Celestial nature? Must such wonders be,\n    Nor we divine them, who at price so vast\n    Have bought the boast of knowledge?\n           *       *       *       *       *\n    I--I am he who armed your noble minds\n    With haughty daring; to the distant north\n    Leading you from the wrathful will of Him\n    Who boasts to have made the heavens. You I know;\n    I know your soaring pride; your valor too,\n    That almost wrung from heaven's reluctant hand\n    The mighty victory. Yes, the generous love\n    Of glory fires you still! It cannot be\n    That He whom you disdained to serve above\n    Shall now be worshipped in the depths of hell!\n           *       *       *       *       *\n    Ah! matchless is our insult! grave the wound\n    If we unite not promptly to avenge it!\n    Already on your kindled brows I see\n    The soul's high thirst--and hope, by hate inflamed!\n    Already I behold your ample wings\n    Spread to the air, eager to sweep the world\n    And those stern heavens to the abyss of ruin,\n    And man, new born, with them to overwhelm!\n\n      _Satan._ Alas! command\n    And say what thou wouldst do! With hundred tongues\n    Speak, speak--that with a hundred mighty deeds\n    Satan may pant, and hell be roused to action.\"\n\nThe conspiracy to draw man into sin and prevent the incarnation is\nthen entered into.\n\n      \"_Lucifer._ Most easy is the way of human ruin\n    Opened by God to his terrestrial work;\n    Since nature wills with mandate absolute\n    Man shall his life preserve with various food,\n    And oft partaken. Ay, it well may chance--\n    The bitter ruin in sweet food concealed--\n    That he may taste this day the fruit forbidden,\n    And by the way of death,\n    From naught created, unto naught return.\"\n\n                                               Act i. sc. 3.\n\nHis plan for the destruction of man is hailed with joy; and Lucifer\nnext calls up the Seven Deadly Sins to assist him in his infernal\nwork. To each of these mysterious impersonations a different task is\nassigned, and detailed at length in the piece. They are severally\ncommissioned to assail his intended victims with every variety of\ntemptation. Pride and Envy are directed to fill the soul of Eve with\ndiscontented thoughts, and awaken vain imaginations of superiority;\nto suggest regrets that she was not formed before Adam, as every man\nhereafter must receive his being from woman.\n\n      \"_Lucifer._ Tell her, the lovely gifts\n    She hath received do merit not their doom--\n    Submission to the will of haughty man;\n    That she in price doth far exceed her lord,\n    Created of his flesh--as he of dust;\n    She in bright Eden had her gentle birth--\n    He in the meaner fields.\"\n\nDulciato, who personates Luxury, declares the heart of woman\npeculiarly open to his fascinations.\n\n    \"Even now fair Eve at yonder crystal fount\n    Rejoices to behold the blushing rose\n    In beauty vanquished by her vermil cheek;\n    The regal lily's virgin purity\n    Matched by the whiteness of her heaving breast;\n    Already, charmed, she wreathes her flowing hair\n    Like threads of gold, fanned by the wooing breeze,\n    And deems her lovely eyes two suns of love,\n    To kindle with their beams the coldest heart.\"\n\nIn the beginning of the second act we have a scene quite different.\nThe angelic train descends to hymn the goodness of the Creator and\nthe happiness of man.\n\n    \"Weave, weave the garlands light\n        Of fairest flowers,\n        In these primeval bowers,\n    For the new being--and his consort bright!\n        Let each celestial voice\n        With melody rejoice,\n    Praising God's work of latest, noblest birth;\n        And let the tide of song\n        To gratitude belong\n    For man, the wonder of both heaven and earth.\"\n\nThe picture of the first pair, in their primeval innocence and\nenjoyment, full of gratitude to heaven and love for each other, is\nso captivating in its simplicity and beauty that it would alone be\nsufficient to redeem more sins against taste than the whole book\ncontains. We do not imagine we are saying too much in calling it\nthe original of Milton's delineation, as that of the infernal chief\nundoubtedly is. The same graceful and feminine qualities blend in\nthe exquisite character of Eve; the same superiority of intellect,\nprotecting gentleness, and exalted devotion are seen in Adam. They\nare surrounded by invisible spirits, the emissaries of Lucifer, who\n\"with jealous leer malign,\" mock at the peaceful purity and happiness\nthat blasts their envious sight, and hurl vague threats against the\nbeings who, while innocent, are safe from their hostility. Eve weaves\nfor Adam a garland of flowers, which he places on his brow as a chain\nof love. In reference to this Lurcone says,\n\n    \"Chains of infernal workmanship\n    Shall shortly bind you in a subtle fold\n    Which mortal stroke can never loose.\"\n\nAt the prayers of Adam and Eve, offered with thanksgiving for their\nblessings, the evil spirits precipitately fly--the agonies of hell\nburning in their hearts. Adam gives names to the various animals,\npassing in review before him.\n\nScene third is occupied by Lucifer, in the form of a serpent,\nVainglory, a gigantic figure, magnificently attired, and his\nattendant spirits. The arch-demon exults over his expected success,\nthe ruin of so smiling a scene:\n\n      \"_Serpent._ How lovely smile these flowers,\n    These young fair buds! and ah! how soon my hand\n    These pathways shall despoil of herbs and flowers.\n    Lo! where my feet have pressed their fragrant tops,\n    So graceful, they have drooped; and at my touch,\n    Blasting and burning, the moist spirit is fled\n    From the scorched petal. How do I rejoice\n    Among these bowers with blighting step to pass,\n    To poison with my breath their buds and leaves,\n    And turn to bitterness their purple fruits!\"\n\nVolano acquaints Satan with the decision of the infernal council,\nand Vainglory and the serpent hide themselves under the tree of\nknowledge. Eve enters; the wondrous beauty of the tempter, gorgeously\ndescribed, fascinates her admiring gaze. He is half-hid in the\nclustering foliage. Unconscious of evil, she approaches nearer,\nsurprised at his aspect; for the fiend exhibits a form like the\nfabled inhabitants of the sea, human to his breast, the rest of\nhis body enveloped in scaly folds. Vainglory is invisible, but\nis supposed to be secretly exerting his influence. The serpent,\naccosting Eve in the accents of flattery, enters into conversation\nwith her, informing her that he was placed in Eden to take charge of\nits fruits and flowers, and gifted with superiority over the brute\ncreation. He boasts of his knowledge, which he vaunts as superior\neven to hers and Adam's, notwithstanding that he occupies a lower\nrank in the scale of the creation. He intimates that her knowledge\nand Adam's is far from corresponding to their superior excellence of\nform and high capabilities. Eve inquires how he can regard Adam's\nknowledge as trifling. \"Doth he not know,\" she cries, \"the hidden\nvirtue of each herb and mineral, each beast and bird, the elements,\nthe heavens, the stars, the sun?\" The serpent replies:\n\n    \"Ah! how much worthier to know good and evil!\n    This is the highest knowledge; this doth hold\n    Those mighty secrets dread, sublime, which could\n    Make you, on earth, like God.\"[187]\n\n    \"Doth not this ignorance,\" he says, \"outraging your liberty\n    with unworthy yoke, make you inferior even to the savage\n    beasts, who would not submit to such a law?[188] Or is it that\n    God fears you will equal him in knowledge? in the essence of\n    divinity? No! if you become like him by such means, there\n    would still be difference,\" etc.[189]\n\nThe Serpent then enters upon the immediate object of his design,\nemploying his subtle and persuasive eloquence to overcome Eve's\nscruples and induce her to eat of the forbidden fruit, whose taste is\nto impart to her heavenly wisdom. The whole scene of the temptation\nis admirably managed. The advances of the arch deceiver--now\ncautiously sounding her, now eagerly urging her to disobedience--the\nunsuspecting credulity, the increasing curiosity of Eve, are drawn\nwith the pencil of a master.\n\nThe Serpent's arguments become still more specious and pressing:\n\n                      \"Thus I live\n    Feeding on this celestial fruit;\n    Thus to mine eyes all paradise is open--\n    Mine eyes, enlightened by the knowledge stored\n    In this most wondrous food.\"[190]\n\nThe Serpent speciously insinuates that man is degraded by being\ncompelled to seek his food from the same source with the inferior\ncreation:\n\n    \"Ah! 'tis too true that drawing sustenance\n    From the same source with brutes that throng the field,\n    In this, at least, renders you like to them.\n    Surely it is not meet or just that ye,\n    Noblest creations of all-forming power,\n    The favored children of the Eternal King,\n    In such unworthy state, 'mid rocks and woods,\n    Should lead a life of vile equality\n    With baser animals!\"\n\nThe temptation takes place necessarily in dialogue. The thoughts are\nnatural and elevated, and the language even magnificent. Eve asks the\nSerpent what is the cause of his apparent anxiety that she should eat\nof the prohibited fruit; he explains it by informing her that he will\nbe lord over Eden when she and her partner, by means of the mystic\nfood, shall have ascended to mingle with deities. This is a new and\nremarkable trait, of which Milton has not availed himself.\n\n    \"But this, my rightful empire o'er the ground,\n    While man exists and breathes earth's vital air,\n    Is changed to base and grievous vassalage--\n    Since man alone is chosen, by heaven's command,\n    Lord of this lower world, this universe\n    Just sprung from naught.\n    But when, by virtue of this loveliest\n    Of all fair Eden's fruits, secured and tasted,\n    Ye shall be made as gods--full well I know\n    Ye both, forsaking this frail sphere, will soar\n    To eminence divine, leaving to me\n    The heritage of power, the sovereignty\n    O'er every living thing, by your ascent\n    To higher bliss secured. Full well thou know'st\n    How pleasing is the consciousness of empire!\n    Pleasing to God, to man, and to the serpent!\n\n      _Eve._ I yearn to obey thee. Ah! what would I do?\n\n      _Serpent._ Say, rather, leave undone! Pluck it, and make\n    Thyself a goddess in the highest heavens,\n    And me a god on earth!\"\n\nHere occurs an exquisite touch. Eve, having never before experienced\na painful moral emotion, is ignorant of its meaning. The tempter,\nwith consummate art, interprets her very fear into encouragement.\n\n      \"_Eve._ Alas! I feel\n    An icy tremor through my shuddering frame,\n    That chills my heart.\n\n      _Serpent._ _It is the languishing\n    Of mortal nature 'neath the glorious weight\n    Of that divinity which, like a crown,\n    O'erhangs thy head!_[191]\n                        Behold the lovely tree,\n    More rich and lustrous in its living beauty\n    Than if, indeed, it pointed toward the skies\n    Branches of gold with emeralds bedecked;\n    Than if its roots were coral, and its trunk\n    Unspotted silver. Lo! the gem-like fruit,\n    Glowing with gifts of immortality!\n    How fair it shows! How to the vivid rays\n    Of sunlight, with a thousand changing hues\n    It answers, like the train of brilliant birds,\n    When to the sun their broad and painted plumes\n    Expanded, glitter with innumerous eyes!\"\n\n                                              Act ii. sc. 6.\n\nIn evil hour her rash hand plucks the fruit; and the act closes with\nthe exulting gratulations of the Deceiver and Vainglory.\n\nIn the succeeding interview with Adam, in Act iii., the intoxicated\nEve has not begun to taste the consequences of her crime; she comes\nto persuade her companion to partake her guilt.\n\n      \"_Eve._ How I rejoice, not only to behold\n    These flowers, these verdant meads with waving trees,\n    But thee, my Adam!\n    'Tis thou alone in whose blest presence seems\n    This scene more fraught with ever new delight,\n    More bright the fruits, and every fount more clear!\n\n      _Adam._ No blossom that adorns this blissful plain\n    Such beauty can unfold to greet mine eyes\n    As those sweet flowers whose charms I gaze upon\n    In the fair garden of thy beauteous face!\n    Be calm, ye plants of earth; nor deem my words\n    False to your loveliness!\n    Ye, with the silvery dews of evening sprinkled,\n    When the sun sends his ardent glance abroad,\n    Make glad the bosom of the grassy earth;\n    But droop ye also with declining day.\n    While the fair living flowers that on the cheek\n    Of my loved Eve are cherished--watered ever\n    By the sweet dews of joy that o'er them flow\n    When to her God she bends in grateful praise--\n    Warmed into life by the twin radiant suns\n    That light the heaven of her face--there live\n    In grace and bloom perennial, and adorn\n    Their own unrivalled paradise.\"\n\nDeath, in the eyes of Adam, is more welcome than separation from his\nbeloved; as in _Paradise Lost_, he rushes on his fate voluntarily,\nwithout partaking in any of those dreams of greatness which had\nbeguiled his frail consort. When the mortal sin is completed by his\nparticipation, Volano with his trumpet summons the infernal spirits,\nwho crowd the scene with shouts of exultation expressed in lyrical\nmeasures. The Serpent and Vainglory are worshipped for their success.\nThe evil spirits vanish before the voice of the Eternal, who descends\nwith his angels to pronounce sentence upon the guilty pair. The\nsolemn account to which the Judge calls them, their guilty evasion\nand detection, and the stern malediction on the earth cursed for\nman's sake, with the punishment denounced on the human offenders and\non the serpent, are described in the scriptural language, and with a\nsimplicity which is in itself sublime. No _concetti_ are here allowed\nto mar the impressive greatness of the scene. An angel remains after\nthe departure of the Almighty, and clothes the shivering pair with\nthe skins of wild beasts, reminding them that the roughness of\ntheir new raiment signifies the suffering they are to sustain in\nthe journey of life. Then the stern Archangel Michael, the minister\nof divine vengeance, appears and commands them to leave paradise,\nwhile the cherubic host, who had hitherto hovered round them, forsake\ntheir accustomed charge and reascend to heaven. The flaming sword of\nMichael chases the unhappy fugitives from their lost home, and his\nlips confirm their own apprehensions:\n\n      \"_Michael._ These stony fields your naked feet shall press,\n    In place of flowery turf, since fatal sin\n    Forbids you longer to inhabit here.\n    Know me the minister of wrath to those\n    Who have rebelled against their God. For this\n    Wear I the armor of almighty power,\n    Dazzling and terrible. Yes, I am he\n    Who, in the conflict of immortal hosts,\n    Dragged captive from the north the haughty chief\n    Of rebel spirits, and to hell's abyss\n    Hurled them in mighty ruin.\n    Now to the Eternal King it seemeth good\n    That man, rebellious to his sovereign will,\n    I should drive forth from his fair paradise\n    With sword of fire.\n      Hence, angels, and with me\n    Speed back to heaven your flight!\n    Even as like me ye have been wont to joy\n    On earth with Adam--once a demi-god,\n    Now feeble clay. Then, armed with fiery sword,\n    A cherub guardian of this gate of bliss\n    Shall take your place.\"\n\n                                             Act iii. sc. 8.\n\nThe chant of the departing angels mingles with lamentation over the\nfall an intimation of peace in the future.\n\nThe poem does not end with the expulsion from Eden; a second part, as\nit were, is contained in the last two acts, in which the dim promise\nof a Redeemer is shadowed forth, the triumph of hell is turned to\nrage and shame, and penitence is comforted with hope. This completion\nof the great plan gives a new grandeur to the piece, since it is thus\nmade to embody the most solemn and striking of all morals.\n\nIn Act iv. Volano summons the spirits of the elements to meet\nLucifer, who calls a council. The spirits still utter their songs\nof triumph over the fall of man; but the mien of their leader is\ndeject, his clear-sighted vision already discerns in the just wrath\nof God against the human offenders the latent promise of mercy. He\nforesees the pardon of man, and his restoration through a Redeemer\nto the heavenly blessings from which his destroyer vainly hoped his\ntransgressions had cut him off. He is racked with anguish at the\nprospect of his work being undone; but it is no time now to pause;\nhe must build up still higher the edifice of his own greatness and\nhis defiance of Omnipotence. The deep pride of his character is\nfurther illustrated in the infernal council. He causes to issue from\nthe earth four monsters hurtful to man: Mondo, Carne, Morte, and\nDemonio--World, Flesh, Death, and Devil.\n\nAdam and Eve appear in their fallen condition, the prey of a thousand\nfears and ills, haunted by miseries before unknown. They bitterly\ndeplore the changes that have passed on the creation. The animals\nmanifest terror at their presence. Four monsters beset Adam--the\nimpersonations of Hunger, Thirst, Fatigue, and Despair, that threaten\nto follow him unceasingly. Death menaces them with mortal peril;\nthe heavens grow dark, thunders roll, and the air is convulsed with\ntempest. The scene closes in gloom and horror.\n\nIn the fifth act, Temptation, in alluring forms, invites the fallen\npair to new crimes. Flesh, in the figure of a lovely young woman,\naccosts Adam, showing him how all things breathe of love; and\nLucifer, in human shape, persuades him to yield to her enticements.\nHere occurs one of the most exquisitely delicate and beautiful\ntouches in the poem, and one that none but a true poet could\nhave conceived. The guardian angel of man yet hovers, unseen, at\na distance; when he sees him thus sore beset, he comes to his\nassistance. The protector is invisible; but his warning voice, soft\nas the promptings of a dream, sounds in the sinner's ear:\n\n      \"_Angel._ 'Tis time to succor man. Alas! what dost thou,\n    Most wretched Adam?\n\n      _Lucifer_, (_to Adam_.) Why remain'st thou mute?\n    Why art thou sad?\n\n      _Adam._ I seem a voice to hear,\n    Sorrowful yet mild, which says, 'Alas! what dost thou,\n    Most wretched Adam?'\"\n\n                                               Act v. sc. 3.\n\nFollowing the promptings of the angel, which are continued through\nthe scene, Adam proposes that Lucifer and his companion shall kneel\nwith him in prayer. Thus he escapes the temptation and danger.\nLucifer and his demons refuse to pray, and, assuming their proper\nshape, next assail him by force; but from this peril he is also\nguarded.\n\nWe then behold Eve wandering desolate and desponding, affrighted at\nall that meets her eyes. Her lamentation has much simple beauty.\n\n      \"_Eve._ Dar'st thou, O wretched Eve!\n    Lift up thy guilty eyes to meet the sun?\n    Oh! no; they are unworthy--well thou know'st!\n    Once, with unfaltering gaze they could behold\n    His beams, and revel in their golden light;\n        Now thy too daring look\n        His dazzling rays rebuke;\n    Or, if thou gaze upon his face, a veil\n    Of blindness shrouds thy sight. Alas! too truly\n    I dwell in darkness, if my sin has stained\n    With horrid mists the pure and innocent sun!\n    O miserable Eve!\n    If now I turn my feet where fountains gush\n    To taste the limpid current, I behold\n    The crystal wave defiled, or scorching sands\n    Usurp its place. If, famished, I return\n    To pluck the grateful fruit from bending trees,\n    Its taste is bitter to me; or the worm\n    With blasting touch doth revel on its sweetness.\n    If, wearied, I recline among the flowers,\n    Striving to close my eyes, lo! at my side\n    The serpent rears its crest, or hissing glides\n    Among the clustering leaves. If, to escape\n    Faint from the noontide heat, I seek the shade\n    Of some thick wood, I tremble at the thought\n    Of wild beast lurking in the thicket's gloom;\n    And start with dread if but the lightest leaf\n    Stir with the wind.\"\n\nShe also is assailed by a new temptation personified under the name\nof World. This allegorical personage, arrayed in rich and gorgeous\nvestments, crowned with gold and gems, endeavors to captivate her\nimagination by artful flatteries; by visions of splendor and regal\npower reserved for \"the queen of the universe.\" From a visioned\npalace comes a troop of nymphs laden with ornaments, with which they\noffer to adorn their mistress, dancing and singing around her; but\nEve, deaf to World's flatteries, resists and flies from him; both she\nand her consort are too penitent to listen to evil solicitations,\nand at Adam's rebuke the troop disappears in confusion. Then Lucifer\nand his devils, armed for man's destruction, rush in to seize their\nvictims. The fierce and final struggle between the powers of heaven\nand hell, for the dominion of earth, takes place; for the arch-fiend\nencounters Michael and his angels, sent to rescue the frail beings of\nclay, who, in terrified astonishment, witness the battle. It would\nbe doing injustice to the poem not to give some extracts from this\nstriking scene.\n\n      \"_Michael._ Tremble, thou son of wrath,\n    At the fierce lightning of this barbed spear,\n    The smiting hand of him who leads heaven's host.\n    Nor against God, but 'gainst thyself thou wagest\n    War, and in thine offence offend'st thyself.\n    Back to the shades, thou wandering spirit of hell,\n    From this celestial light shut out for ever!\n    Drop thy dark wings beneath the glory which\n    The Father of all light, who formed the suns,\n    Imparts to me! Hence, with the noxious band\n    Of God's accursed foes; nor tarry here,\n    An evil host, with your infernal breath\n    These precincts to pollute, to scatter gloom\n    Through man's pure air of life!\n    No more thy hissing vile, serpent of hell,\n    Shall harass innocence!\n\n      _Lucifer._ Loquacious messenger\n    Of heaven's high will, clothed in the vaunted garb\n    Of splendor--failing in the attribute\n    Of daring soul--minion of heaven's indulgence!\n    Angel of softness! who in solemn ease,\n    In seats of sloth, nests of humility,\n    Dost harbor--on thy face and in thy heart\n    The coward stamped--a warrior but in name;\n    Spread, spread thy wings, and seek thy Maker's arms,[192]\n    There shelter, there confide thee! too unequal\n    The strife would be 'twixt fear and bravery:\n    Betwixt the warrior and the unwarlike one,\n    The weak and strong; betwixt a Michael vile\n    And a proud Lucifer. But if thy boldness\n    Aspire to rifle from my mighty hand\n    This frail compound of clay,\n    This animated dust, I here declare\n    Against thee war, bitter and mortal war,\n    Till thou shalt see, by this avenging hand,\n    The wide creation of thy God laid waste!\n\n      _Michael._ The doleful victory,\n    Of fierce and desperate spirit, which thou gainedst\n    Against heaven's forces once--against this man,\n    Whom thou confused hast vanquished--conquest poor\n    Already snatched from thee! while in the chains\n    From which thy prey is freed thou art involved--\n    May teach thee with what justice thou canst claim\n    The palm of honor!\"\n\nThe haughty monarch of hell then reminds Michael of his first great\nrebellion against the Most High, and his success in dragging into\nruin \"the third part of heaven's host,\" (_terza parte di stelle_.)\nVaunting these proofs of his might, he boldly threatens destruction\nto the throne of God himself: bidding the inhabitants of heaven flee\nfrom a place which can no longer afford them a refuge of safety!\n\n      \"_Michael._ Wherefore delay to check the impious vaunts\n    Of this proud rebel?\n    Written indeed with pen of iron, marked\n    In living characters of blood, upon\n    The page of everlasting misery,\n    Shall be thy glory for this victory!\n    To arms! to arms, then; for the swift destruction\n    Of outcast devils!--and let man rejoice,\n    Heaven smile, hell weep!\n\n      _Lucifer._ To the intemperate boast\n    Of lips too bold, but rarely doth the daring\n    Of truth succeed. To arms! and thou with me\n    Sustain the contest. Ye, my other foes\n    Invincible, avoid the impious strife,\n    Effeminate followers of a peaceful chief!\n    ... Alas! he who already hath received\n    From heaven small grace, of ill a plenteous dole,\n    On earth must also prove his strength unequal,\n    Despite the powerful spirit, to the stroke\n    Of power supernal, driving to the abyss\n    Of gloom again! It is well meet, the wretch\n    Vanquished in battle should lose too the light\n    Of this celestial sun!\n        Angels and God!\n    Ye are victorious! Ye at length have conquered!\n    Proud Lucifer and all his vanquished train\n    Have dearly paid the forfeit. They forsake\n    The day; they sink to everlasting night.\n\n      _Michael._ Fall from the earth! baffled and wounded fall,\n        Monster of cruel hell,\n    Down to the shades of night, where thou shalt die\n        An everlasting death;\n    Nor hope to spread thy wings again toward heaven,\n    Since impious wishes fire thee desperate,\n    Not penitence. And thou art fallen at length,\n    Proud fiend, despairing in thy downward course,\n    Even as exultingly thou thought'st to soar\n    To height divine: Once more thou know'st to sink\n    Thundering to hell's dark caverns. Thou didst hope,\n    Fool! to bear back with thee thy prisoner, man;\n    Alone thou seek'st thy dungeon vast, profound,\n    Where to its depths pursued, the added flames\n    Of endless wrath thou bearest, to increase\n    Its ever-burning fires!...\n    Thou wouldst have made this fair world with thine ire\n    A desolated waste; where at thy breath\n    Summoning to devastation, clouds and winds,\n    And lightnings tempest-winged, and thunders loud,\n    Vengeful should throng the air, should shake the hills;\n    And make the valleys with their din resound.\n    And lo! in skies from thy foul presence freed,\n    The spheres with louder music weave their dance,\n    And the majestic sun with purer rays\n    Gladdens the azure fields on high. The sea\n    Reclines in tremulous tranquillity,\n    Or joyous pours upon the glistening strand\n    His pearls and corals. Never wearied sport\n    His glossy tribes, and swim the liquid sapphire.\n    Lo! in a green and flowery vesture robed,\n    How shine these valleys in rejoicing light!\n    While the sweet, grateful notes of praise ascend\n    From every soaring habitant of air,\n    That now, a pilgrim in the scented vale,\n    Makes vocal all the woods with melody.\n    Let all, united on this glorious day\n    Of scorn and shame to hell, exulting raise\n    The hymn of joy to heaven; and widely borne\n    By eager winds, the golden trumpets sound\n    To tell in heaven of victory and peace!\n\n      _Adam._ O welcome sound that calls me back to joy\n    Whence sad I fled! Ah me! I fear to blot,\n    Tainted by sin, the holy purity\n    Of angels' presence!\n    O thou who wear'st the glorious armor wrought\n    With gems celestial! Archangel bright!\n    Dread warrior, yet most mild! thy golden locks\n    Hiding with helmet of immortal beams!\n    Wielding in thy right hand the conquering spear!\n    Close the rich gold of thy too dazzling wings,\n    And turn a gentle and a pitying look\n    On him who prostrate at thy feet adores!\"\n\nThe archangel is no longer the avenger; and he raises with pity the\nrepentant sinners.\n\n      \"_Michael._ Rise both, ye works of God\n    Thus favored; banish from your bosoms dread\n    Of portents unpropitious. If our Master\n    With one hand smite, the other offers you\n    Healing--salvation!\"\n\nAdam and Eve, delivered from their foes, are comforted by the\nheavenly messenger, who assures them of forgiveness on condition of\nfuture obedience. With his promise we conclude our extracts.\n\n      \"_Michael._ Now since in heaven the star of love\n    and peace\n    Shines forth, and in ambitious hell's despite\n    The victor to the vanquished yields the palm,\n    Raise still your humble, grateful looks above:\n    Bend to the soil your knees, and suppliant\n    Praise for his mercy your forgiving Lord.\n    So in reward for penitence and zeal\n    God will your Father be, and heaven your home.\"\n\n                                               Act v. sc. 9.\n\nWe have occupied so much space in the analysis and extracts from this\nremarkable work, that little room is left for further observation.\nIt is impossible to present all the beauties of the poem, and\nallowance must be made for showing them in another language; yet\nsome idea may be afforded of the general character of the piece.\nThe original abounds with striking passages that have of necessity\nbeen left unnoticed, strangely mingled with the tumid extravagances\nand heterogeneous conceits belonging to the age in which it was\nwritten. These faults, however, are but trifling in comparison with\nits merits; and the wonderful conception, the glorious plan, is not\nmarred by them. When the superior personages appear on the scene,\nthe inspiration of the poet is triumphant over the defects of his\nschool; not a line of their language is disfigured by aught which the\nmost fastidious of modern tastes could condemn. It is only in the\nmanagement of inferior and of allegorical personages that the faults\nalluded to can be perceived; and even here the rich and noble genius\nof the poet has mastered many of his difficulties.\n\nThe author of _Adam_ could hardly have anticipated, in the\nrepresentation of his work on the stage, a success commensurate with\nits merits; since the trickery of scenic effect could but poorly\nindeed embody the creations of genius. Fancying an attempt to make\nthem apparent to the senses of a rabble audience, we can scarcely\nwonder that the whole should have been stamped with ridicule. But\nany reader of the poem will concede that the sublime conception of\n_Paradise Lost_ belongs to Andreini as the originator. He ascended\nwith success \"the highest heaven of invention;\" and when he puts\nwords into the mouth of Deity, and interprets the hymnings of angelic\nchoirs, he shows himself equal to the task.\n\nThe extension of the reputation of this wonderful production would\nconsiderably increase our sense of obligation to Italian literature.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[184] A copy of this rare poem in the original Italian may be found\nin the Astor Library.\n\n[185]\n\n    \"These puissant legions, whose exile\n    Hath emptied heaven.\"\n\n                                    _Paradise Lost_, Book i.\n\n\n[186]\n\n    \"Into our room of bliss thus high advanced\n    Creatures of other mould.\"\n\n                                       _Par. Lost_, Book iv.\n\n\n[187] See _Paradise Lost_, Book ix. line 705.\n\n[188]\n\n    \"Shall that be shut to man which to the beast\n    Is open?\"\n\n                                     _Paradise Lost_, B. ix.\n\n\n[189]\n\n    \"Or is it envy? and can envy dwell\n    In heavenly breasts?\"\n\n                                     _Paradise Lost_, B. ix.\n\n\n[190]\n\n    \"Henceforth to speculations high and deep\n    I turned my thoughts; and with capacious mind\n    Considered all things visible in heaven\n    Or earth.\"\n\n                                     _Paradise Lost_, B. ix.\n\n\n[191]\n\n      \"_Eve._ O me! lassa ch'io sento\n    Un gelido tremor vagar per l'osa\n    Che mi fa graccio il core.\n\n      _Serpent._ E la parte mortal che gi\u00e0 incomincia\n    A languir, sendo dal divin gravata,\n    Che sovra le tue chiome\n    In potenza sovrasta.\"\n\n\n[192] See _Paradise Lost_, Book iv. line 940.\n\n\n\n\nF\u00c9NELON.[193]\n\nBY THE LATE REV. J. W. CUMMINGS, D.D.\n\n\nLadies and Gentlemen: It would be possible to fix a point of time in\nthe reign of King Louis XIV. unequalled in brilliancy by any other\nin the eventful history of the French nation. Such a period would\npresent to us the great monarch crowned with the glory of his early\nsuccesses, unsullied as yet by the shame of his later weakness and\ndegradation. A tableau of the court of Versailles would show us the\nthrone surrounded by groups of men illustrious in every department\nof human greatness. To name a few only: military fame would find its\nrepresentatives in Cond\u00e9, Turenne, Luxembourg, Vauban, and Villars;\npoetry, in Malherbe, La Fontaine, and Boileau; the drama, in Racine,\nCorneille, and Moli\u00e8re; political science, in Mazarin, Colbert,\nand Louvois; philosophy, in Pascal and Descartes; eloquence, in\nBourdaloue, Flechier, Massillon, and Bossuet; painting, in Poussin\nand Lesueur; archaeology, in Mabillon and Montfaucon; general\nliterature, in La Rochefoucauld, La Bruy\u00e8re, Balzac, and Madame de\nS\u00e9vign\u00e9. Yet among all the great men of that wonderful period there\nis not one, probably, who, if given a choice, would not willingly\nexchange his reputation with that of F\u00e9nelon, who in early life moved\nin that brilliant court as an obscure priest, and in the fulness of\nmanhood was sent away from it into honorable exile.\n\nI would it were in my power, ladies and gentlemen, to lay before\nyou such a sketch of the life of F\u00e9nelon as would fully explain to\nyou by what secret a Roman Catholic priest, who devoted himself so\nentirely to preaching and to proselytizing for his church, became\npopular to such an unwonted degree, and remains so to this day, not\nless in the Protestant world than among men of his own creed.\n\nI have neither the time nor, I fear, the ability to do justice to so\nexcellent a theme. I do hope, however, that my brief remarks may have\nthe effect of so far engaging the curiosity of the younger portion\nof my hearers as to lead them to study F\u00e9nelon's life and writings.\nNobody ever rose from the perusal of either without feeling an\ninclination to love himself less, and to extend a larger and warmer\ncharity to his fellow-men, whatever their condition or their creed.\n\nFran\u00e7ois de Salignac de la Mothe, Marquis of F\u00e9nelon, was born in\nthe chateau of F\u00e9nelon in the year 1651, and came of distinguished\nlineage on the side of both parents. His early education was\njudicious, his father and mother training him in morals and religion\nboth by word and example, and his able preceptor making it his aim to\nteach him the love of study for its own sake.\n\nThe child's brain was not developed at the expense of the rest of his\nbody, and abundant daily exercise in the fresh open air united with\nregular and frugal habits to form a sound body for the dwelling of a\nnoble and gifted soul.\n\nHis decided fondness for Greek and Latin literature made him a great\nreader, yet without effort or constraint, and led gradually to the\nformation of that mixture of grace and melody in his style for which\nhe stands pre\u00ebminent among the greatest French writers.\n\nHe spent five years in Paris at the Seminary of St. Sulpice, and took\norders at the age of twenty-four. His first impulse was to dedicate\nhis life to the foreign missions; and he was prevented only by the\ninfluence of his family from coming to America and settling among the\nIndians in Canada.\n\nA mission was provided for him in the heart of Paris, and there,\nwhile visiting the sick, instructing the ignorant and the young,\ncomforting and relieving the poor, and exercising all the various\nduties of the Christian ministry, he acquired that knowledge of the\nhuman heart, and of the mode of touching and persuading it, that\nfitted him, no less than his long and patient devotion to books, for\nthe work of improving his fellow-men. A new field of observation\nand benevolent labor was the institution known as \"Les Nouvelles\nCatholiques,\" a seminary under royal patronage for the education of\nyoung ladies, chiefly recent converts to the church. The Abb\u00e9 F\u00e9nelon\npresided for ten years over both the ladies in charge and their\npupils, giving both the benefit of his learning, his refinement,\nhis gentle and cheerful religious spirit, and his high-minded and\nenlightened devotion. To his knowledge of the heart of woman, of her\nweakness and her strength, gathered while in this position, we owe\nhis earliest book, the _Treatise on the Education of Girls_, a work\nwhich made its author widely known, and procured for him in time the\nappointment of tutor to the grandson of Louis XIV.\n\nIn 1685, the king signed the revocation of the edict of Nantes.\nThe effect of this measure was to reduce his Protestant subjects,\namounting to about two millions, to the cruel alternative of abjuring\ntheir faith or quitting France for ever. Of the many that left,\nsome found their way to the United States, and the descendants of\nthe Huguenots have contributed their share to the prosperity and\nadvancement of the land of liberty. The king undertook to bring\nabout the conversion of those who remained, and, happily for the\nProtestants of Saintange and Annis, the missionary selected for\nthem was the Abb\u00e9 de F\u00e9nelon. Royal orders had been given that the\nmissionary should be supported by a detachment of dragoons. The\nproffered assistance was gently but firmly declined. \"Our ministry,\"\nsaid the abb\u00e9, \"is one of harmony and peace. We are going to our\nbrethren who are astray; we shall bring them back to the fold\nby charity alone. It is not by means of violence and constraint\nthat conviction can be made to penetrate the soul.\" His reasoning\nprevailed, and he was allowed to depart alone. The stern Calvinists\nof Poitou soon came to look upon this new pastor with kindness and\naffection, and, in return, his influence saved them from further\nannoyance on the part of the civil authority.\n\nIn 1689, a happy event for the world of letters occurred in the\nappointment of F\u00e9nelon to be the tutor of Louis, Duke of Burgundy,\nthe son of the dauphin. He applied himself to his new task with\nuntiring and conscientious devotion, and the account of his manner of\nfulfilling it is exceedingly interesting. His first care was to study\nwell the character and disposition of his pupil. The result of this\ninvestigation was any thing but encouraging. The Duke of Saint Simon,\nwho was well acquainted with the young prince, states that he was\nnaturally stubborn, haughty, and unkind. He was endowed with strong\npassions, and fond of every sort of animal gratification. His temper\nwas so violent that in his fits of rage it was dangerous to attempt\nto control him. He would tear and break whatever came to his hands,\nand be carried away by such outbursts of fury that his life seemed to\nbe really in danger. He was fond of the pleasures of the table and of\nthe chase, naturally cruel, and brimful of a pride that led him to\nlook upon other men as objects of usefulness and amusement, rather\nthan as beings equal to himself.\n\nSuch was the pupil confided to the care of F\u00e9nelon; and under his\nwise and gentle guidance the headstrong, selfish, and cruel boy\nbecame kind, generous, modest, and remarkable for perfect and\nunfailing self-control.\n\nThe besetting sin of the young prince was a perverseness of temper\nalways hard to manage and ready, for the slightest cause, to break\nout into open rebellion, on which occasions no one had been able to\ncontrol him. F\u00e9nelon's manner of correcting this fault is full of\ninstruction. He avoided direct attacks and punishments, seeking,\nby gentle remonstrance and good-natured raillery, to lead the boy\ninto being ashamed of his fault. When there was a prospect of being\nlistened to, he would make use of simple maxims showing the folly\nand wickedness of angry passion, and explaining his remarks by\nfamiliar illustrations likely to be easily understood and remembered.\nSometimes he yielded without remonstrance, avoiding all recourse to\nauthority or personal influence unless he was well assured that it\nwould prove successful. The little work known as _F\u00e9nelon's Fables_\nwas composed piecemeal, each fable being called forth by some fault\nthe prince had committed, or for the purpose of helping him to\nremember some moral point, and leading him gradually on in the system\nof improvements his tutor had adopted.\n\nOne day, when the prince had made all around him unhappy by indulging\nin repeated bursts of spleen and disobedience, F\u00e9nelon took a sheet\nof paper and wrote in his presence the following sketch, which we\nfind among the fables:\n\n    \"What great disaster has happened to Melanthus? Outwardly\n    nothing, inwardly every thing. He went to bed last night the\n    delight of all the people; this morning we are ashamed of\n    him; we shall have to hide him away. On rising, a fold of his\n    garment has displeased him, the whole day will therefore be\n    stormy, and every body will have to suffer: he makes us fear\n    him, he makes us pity him, he cries like a child, he roars like\n    a lion. A poisonous vapor darkens his imagination, as the ink\n    he uses in writing soils his fingers. You must not speak to him\n    about things that pleased him an hour ago; he loved them then,\n    and for that very reason he hates them now. The amusements that\n    interested him a little while ago are now become intolerable,\n    and must be broken up; he wishes to contradict and to irritate\n    those around him, and he is angry because people will not get\n    angry with him. When he can find no pretext for attacking\n    others, he turns against himself; he is low-spirited, and takes\n    it very ill that any body should try to comfort him. He wishes\n    for solitude, and he cannot bear to be left alone; he comes\n    back into company, and it exasperates him. If his friends are\n    silent, their affected silence goads him; if they speak low,\n    he fancies they are talking about him; if they speak loud, it\n    strikes him they have too much to say. If they laugh, it seems\n    to him that they are making game of him; if they are sad,\n    that their sadness is meant to reproach him for his faults.\n    What is to be done? Why, to be as firm and patient as he is\n    intolerable, and to wait quietly until he becomes to-morrow\n    as sensible as he was yesterday. This strange humor comes and\n    goes in the strangest fashion. When it seizes him, it is as\n    sudden as the exploding of a pistol or a gun; he is like the\n    pictures of those possessed by evil spirits; his reason becomes\n    unreason; if you put him to it, you can make him say that it\n    is dark night at twelve o'clock in the day; for there is no\n    distinction of day or night for a man who is out of his head.\n    He sheds tears, he laughs, he jokes, he is mad. In his madness\n    he can be eloquent, amusing, subtle, full of cunning although\n    he has not a particle of common sense left. You have to be\n    extremely careful to pick your words with him; for although\n    bereft of sense, he can become suddenly very knowing, and find\n    his reason for a moment to prove to you that you have lost\n    yours.\"\n\nIt is easy to understand the effect of a lesson like this on a\nhigh-spirited but self-conceited boy. He sought to overawe those\naround him and finds out that he has made himself unmistakably\nridiculous! The instructor who wishes to correct his pupil's\nfaults will succeed oftener by wounding his vanity than he will by\nflattering it.\n\nHis fables at another time present in charming images the happiness\nof being good.\n\n    \"Who is,\" says one of them, \"this god-like shepherd who enters\n    the peaceful shade of our forest? He loves poetry and listens\n    to our songs. Poetry will soften his heart, and render him as\n    gentle as he is proud. May this young hero grow in virtue as a\n    flower unfolds in the genial air of spring. May he love noble\n    thoughts, and may graceful words ever sit upon his lips. May\n    the wisdom of Minerva reign in his heart. May he equal Orpheus\n    in the charms of his voice and Hercules in the greatness of\n    his achievements. May he possess all the boldness of Achilles\n    without his fiery temper. May he be good, wise, and beneficent,\n    love mankind tenderly, and be much loved by all in return. He\n    loves our sweet songs, they reach his heart even as cooling\n    dews reach the green sward parched by the heat of mid-summer.\n    Oh! may the gods teach him moderation and crown him with\n    endless success. May he hold in his hand the horn of plenty,\n    and may the golden age return under his sway. May wisdom fill\n    his heart and run over into the hearts of his fellow-men, and\n    may flowers spring up in his footsteps wherever he may go.\"\n\nThese fables gave a moral and practical meaning to the details of\nmythology which the prince was studying, and furnished him also with\nmodels of style. They speak to him and of him as one who is in time\nto be a king; but it will be observed that no traits of character\nare praised except those which it was desirable he should possess.\n\nThe main difficulty with the young prince still recurred--his\nimpetuous outbreaks of temper, accompanied by the stubborn\ndetermination to make every body around him yield and allow him to\nhave his way, however unreasonable. This dangerous condition of mind\nwas always treated by F\u00e9nelon's advice in the same manner. The Duke\nde Beauvilliers, who was his governor; the Abb\u00e9 de F\u00e9nelon, and his\nassistant tutor, the celebrated historian Fleury; even the officers\nof his household and his domestics, all treated him with proof not\nof apprehension but of humiliating compassion. When his ill-humor\ngrew furiously excited, they kept aloof and avoided him as one who\nhad lost the use of his reason by some sad distemper. If the fit held\nout, his books were taken from him, and instruction was refused him,\nas being altogether useless in the deplorable condition into which he\nhad now fallen. Left alone, denied all sympathy, given time to cool\ndown, made to feel that his rage was undignified and ineffectual, the\nboy soon grew weary, ashamed, and at length repentant. He would then\nsue for pardon, which was only granted after many promises on his\nhonor that he would not behave so foolishly and wickedly again.\n\nOne of these promises of amendment, made in writing, has been\npreserved and it reads as follows:\n\n    \"I promise, on my word of honor as a prince, to the Abb\u00e9 de\n    F\u00e9nelon to do on the instant whatever he may tell me, and to\n    obey immediately when he may forbid me to do any thing; and if\n    I fail, I hereby submit myself to every sort of punishment and\n    dishonor. Done at Versailles, Nov. 29th, 1689, Signed LOUIS.\"\n\nThis touching engagement upon honor by a boy under ten years of\nage was made in the first year of F\u00e9nelon's charge over him. He had\nalready begun to make some progress, in spite of a disposition the\nugliness of which had been previously set down as incorrigible.\n\nThe tutor had determined to master his pupil's rudeness, as an\nindispensable condition of any improvement, moral or literary.\n\nOne day he had recourse to a stratagem that might present his conduct\nto him in a new light. The young duke stopped one morning to examine\nthe tools of a carpenter, who had been summoned to do some work in\nhis apartment. The man, who had learned his part from F\u00e9nelon, told\nhim in the roughest manner possible to go about his business. The\nprince, little accustomed to hear such language, began to resent\nit; but was interrupted by the workman, who, raising his voice and\ntrembling with rage from head to foot, screamed to him to get beyond\nhis reach. \"I am a man,\" cried he, \"who, when my temper is roused,\nthink nothing of breaking the head of any person that crosses me.\"\nThe prince, frightened beyond measure, ran to his master to tell him\nthat a crazy man had been allowed to come into the palace. \"He is a\npoor laborer,\" said F\u00e9nelon coldly, \"whose only fault is giving signs\nof violent anger.\" \"But he is a bad man,\" cried the boy, \"and must\nleave my apartment.\" \"He is worthy of pity rather than punishment,\"\nadded his tutor. \"You are surprised at his being angry because you\ndisturbed him at his work; what would you say now of a prince who\nbeats his valet at the very time that he is trying to do him a\nservice?\"\n\nOn another occasion the young man, piqued by the tone of severity\nwhich his tutor had found it necessary to assume, answered him in\nthe most arrogant manner, \"I will not allow you, sir, to command\nme; I know what I am, and I know what you are.\" F\u00e9nelon answered\nnot a word; for remonstrance or reproof would have been useless. He\ndetermined, however, to give his pupil a lesson he should not easily\nforget. For the rest of that day he did not speak to him, his sadness\nalone evincing his displeasure. On the following morning he entered\nthe duke's chamber immediately after his being awakened. \"I do not\nknow, sir,\" said he to his pupil with cold and distant respect, \"if\nyou recollect what you told me yesterday, namely, that you knew who\nyou are and who I am. It is my duty to make you understand that you\nknow neither one nor the other. You fancy then, sir, that you are\nmore than I. Some lackey may have told you so; but I hesitate not, as\nyou force me to it, to tell you that I am far above you. There is no\nquestion here of birth, which adds nothing to your personal merit.\nYou cannot pretend to surpass me in wisdom. You know nothing but what\nI have taught you, and that is nothing compared with what remains\nfor you to learn. As to power, you have none whatever over me; but I\nhave authority full and entire over you. The king and monseigneur the\ndauphin have told you so often enough. You may think that I consider\nit a great thing to hold the situation I fill near your person. Let\nme tell you that you are altogether mistaken. I have accepted it only\nto obey the king and to please monseigneur, not certainly for the\npainful advantage of being your preceptor. To convince you of all I\nhave said, I am about to lead you to his majesty, and to beg him to\ngive you some other tutor, who will meet, I hope, with more consoling\nsuccess than I have.\"\n\nThis speech threw the prince into the greatest consternation. \"O my\nmaster!\" he exclaimed, bursting into tears, \"if you abandon me, what\nwill become of me? Do not make the king my enemy for life. Forgive\nme for what I said yesterday, and I promise you never, never, to\ndisplease you again.\"\n\nF\u00e9nelon did not yield easily, although on the following day he\nconsented to be reconciled to his pupil.\n\nHis main dependence, however, in forming the character of the boy,\nwas the sound religious principles which he never grew tired of\ninstilling into his mind by word and example. He would at any moment\ninterrupt literary instruction to explain some point of duty upon\nwhich his pupil might desire to converse. He taught him to look up to\nGod, not with servile fear, but to love him; and to love to think and\nspeak of him as the author of all that is beautiful in nature and in\nman. F\u00e9nelon gives us himself an instance of the empire of religion\nover his soul in a beautiful sketch which he wrote after his pupil's\ndeath. \"One day,\" he says, \"when he was in a very bad humor, and when\nhe was seeking to conceal some act of disobedience, I asked him to\ntell me before God what he had done. 'Before God!' he exclaimed with\ngreat anger; 'why do you ask me \"before God\"? But since you do so ask\nme, I cannot deceive you; I therefore acknowledge my guilt.' He spoke\nthus, although he was at the moment frantic with rage. But religion\nhad over him so much power that it forced from him the painful\navowal.\"\n\nIt is difficult to record without emotion what F\u00e9nelon says\nfurther on of this noble youth, whom he came to love with paternal\ntenderness, and whose untimely death filled his heart with sorrow.\n\"He would often tell me in our unrestrained conversations, 'I leave\nthe Duke of Burgundy outside the door when I am with you, and I am\nnothing but little Louis.'\" He closes the sketch by this splendid\ntribute to the change which had been wrought in his pupil's whole\ncharacter: \"I have never known a person whom it was more easy to tell\nof his own faults, or who would listen more readily to unpalatable\ntruth.\" In proof of the excellent literary and scientific training of\nthe prince, we find that the great Bossuet, after examining him for\nseveral hours, expressed himself satisfied and surprised at the young\nman's proficiency; and thus bore testimony to the ability and success\nof his tutor. Two works besides the _Fables_ deserve to be mentioned\nas fruits of this course of education. One, _F\u00e9nelon's Dialogues_,\nin which he presents to his royal pupil the different personages of\nhistory, speaking their true sentiments, and making known the secret\nmotives of their actions. The other is the far-famed prose-poem, _The\nAdventures of Telemachus, Son of Ulysses_, which has won for its\nauthor the glory of having produced the most perfectly-written book\nin the French language.\n\nLittle more remains to be said of the Duke of Burgundy. F\u00e9nelon\nlabored long and faithfully to make him fit to ascend the throne of\nFrance; he lived to see this work, involving such immense future good\nor evil, completed, and completed to his entire satisfaction. By an\nearly death the dear young prince, in whom such vast expectations\nwere centred, was lost to the love of his master and of France. Had\nhe lived to reign in place of the weak and dissolute Count d'Artois,\nafterward Louis XV., the page of history setting forth in letters of\nfire and blood the scenes of the destruction of the French monarchy,\nmight perhaps have remained unwritten.\n\nF\u00e9nelon had not been made bishop, when he became acquainted with\nMadame de Guyon. He approved of the writings of this gifted woman as\nsound in the light of Catholic theology. He defended her character\nas free from the slightest ground of reproach, and avowed the\nopinion that she was guided by a spirit of goodness and truth. She\nwas looked upon by her adversaries at the court as visionary in her\npiety, heretical in doctrine, and far from irreproachable in her\nconduct. F\u00e9nelon, now become Archbishop of Cambrai, was forced into\na controversy in reference to her affairs, one side of which he\nconducted alone, while on the other there were ranged against him the\ngreat Bossuet, the French court, the king, the court of Rome, and,\nfinally, the supreme pontiff himself.\n\nThe modern student of history is surprised to discover the loose\ncourtiers of Louis XIV., both men and women, hotly engaged in a\ncontroversy on an abstract point of ascetic theology; to see the\nungrateful king banishing from his presence the saviour of his\ngrandson, and the most honest man in his court; to see Bossuet\nallowing his powerful mind to be used as a weapon for the persecution\nof F\u00e9nelon; to see F\u00e9nelon, in a position of so great difficulty and\ndelicacy, always consistent, always conscientious, always refined,\nalways eloquent, always pious, and yet speaking out boldly and\nbravely, without regard to consequences, what seemed to him to be\nright and true.\n\nThe controversy, in course of time, was narrowed down to the question\nwhether the doctrine taught in a book of F\u00e9nelon's, entitled the\n_Maxims of the Saints_, was or was not the doctrine of the Roman\nCatholic Church. After a long investigation, the pope, as final judge\nin the matter, condemned the book, while extolling the personal\nvirtues of the author. Without the slightest hesitancy, F\u00e9nelon\nbowed to the decision of the tribunal of final appeal, and condemned\nthe book himself from the pulpit of his own cathedral. There was\nno mistaking his motive. He had shown clearly that he was beyond\nthe influence of hope and fear, and that he humbled himself only\nbecause he truly believed now that he had been faulty, at least in\nexpression. So noble an act of self-denial, humility, and obedience\nwas attributed on all sides to its true source, namely, his sense\nof duty, and nothing else. Honest and upright dealing, according to\nthe dictates of his conscience, proved the very best policy he could\nhave followed in self-protection; for good and bad alike admired and\napplauded him all over the world. The book, abandoned by its author,\nceased henceforth to be an object of interest, and F\u00e9nelon was the\nonly one who gained any credit from a controversy in which good men\nand bad men had been strangely mixed up together, and fair means and\nfoul were used in a fruitless endeavor to crush him.\n\nThe last years of F\u00e9nelon were passed in Cambrai, of which he was\nboth archbishop and duke, and in which he was admired and beloved\nby all, whether rich or poor. Faithful in the discharge of every\npastoral duty, he divided his time among the poor, the sick, the\nimprisoned, the young, and the ignorant, helping, relieving,\ninstructing, consoling all. The rest of the day he spent among his\nbooks, or in the company of intellectual and virtuous friends. The\npoorest villagers feared not to approach and speak to one whose\nsimplicity and gentleness they well understood, and to whose goodness\nof heart no one ever appealed in vain.\n\nHis peaceful diocese soon became the theatre of scenes of bloodshed\nand desolation, caused by that war of succession during which the\nstar of Louis XIV. began finally to pale before the rising glories of\nthe Duke of Marlborough. F\u00e9nelon gave up his property and his palace\nitself for the relief and accommodation of the sick and the wounded.\nHe distributed among the poor the grain and the fruits over which\nhe had control, and ordered his steward to give food and lodging\nto all who needed it. When he was told that such liberality would\nabsolutely ruin him, \"God will help us,\" he replied; \"his resources\nare infinite. Meanwhile let us give as long as we have any thing\nto give, and we shall have done our duty.\" His episcopal mansion\nwas occupied by officers and soldiers as a hospital, his barns and\nouthouses were used as asylums by the peasantry who had fled before\nthe troops of the allied army, and his courts and gardens were filled\nwith the cattle the poor country people had driven in, protected by\nthe influence of F\u00e9nelon's name.\n\nSo powerful was that name that the invading commanders spared all\nproperty belonging to the archbishop, and Marlborough even ordered\na quantity of grain which had been taken at Chateau Cambresis, and\nwhich he had been informed was the property of the archbishop, to be\nplaced on wagons and driven into the public square of Cambrai under\nan escort of British troops.\n\nBut in his fatherly kindness and attention to the wants of those\naround him, F\u00e9nelon did not cease to take a lively interest in the\nfortunes of the whole country. He could not witness the threatened\ndownfall of his beloved France without the deepest feelings of\nsorrow. The danger of the nation was extreme. Louis was engaged in a\nruinous war with a powerful and conquering enemy. He could not retire\nfrom the contest with honor, and he had neither funds nor credit to\ncarry it on with success. In this desperate strait, the king declared\nthat he would die at the head of his nobles, a brave resolution that\ncould not, however, save the country. In this trying emergency the\ngenius of F\u00e9nelon saw a solution better than that proposed by the\nking. It was bodied forth in a letter to the Duke de Chevreuse, and\nis probably the most striking production that ever came from his pen.\nHe tells the duke that the nobles cannot save the king, that the\ndanger is extreme, and that his true friends must advise him to turn\nfor countenance and relief to the people. The nation is in a critical\nposition. Let the nation be consulted. Let not France be taxed\nwithout her consent to carry on a war in which she feels no interest.\nThe people have been badly governed. Let them be called upon to take\npart in their own government for the future. \"There is danger,\" he\ngrants, \"in passing suddenly from unqualified dependence to an excess\nof liberty. Great caution will be necessary; but it is nevertheless\ncertain that arbitrary authority will not save the country from\nruin.\" \"Despotism,\" he adds, \"with plenty of means, is a government\nof prompt action; but when despotism becomes bankrupt, the first who\nabandon it to ruin are the venal men whom it has allowed to fatten\non the blood of the people.\" The priest from whom these remarks are\nquoted is not Lamennais or Gioberti, but an archbishop of the time of\nLouis XIV. The whole letter reads like a prophecy, or like a history\nof what took place less than a century later. If F\u00e9nelon's advice had\nbeen acted upon, how gloriously would France have entered the first\nof nations upon the march of improvement. Religion and order would\nnot have been made to seem enemies of the people, and the names of\nDiderot and the Encyclop\u00e6dia, of Robespierre and the Directory, might\nhave remained unknown for ever!\n\nWe need not delay here further than to say that, while F\u00e9nelon looked\ninto the heart of the people for the source of national strength,\na succession of rapid events saved the king from the terrible\nalternative in which he was placed. The Emperor Joseph I. died,\nMarlborough fell into disfavor at home, Marshal Villars gained the\nvictory of Denain, and the whole face of Europe was changed. A treaty\nof peace was signed at Utrecht in 1713.\n\nSeveral of F\u00e9nelon's friends died in rapid succession, and his\nloving spirit was penetrated with grief at their loss. His death\nwas hastened beyond doubt by the poignancy of his regret at these\nrepeated afflictions. Why delay the sequel? His work was done, his\nviews of life, his principles of duty to God, to one's country and\nto one's self, had been faithfully chronicled by his pen, and taught\nby the example of his serene and patient virtue. His hour was come,\nand in loving peace with all mankind, with words of faith on his\nlips, and the bright smile of Christian hope on his countenance, he\nbreathed forth his pure spirit into the hands of his Maker. After\nhis death, no funds were discovered belonging to him. They had been\nall distributed among the poor. He was buried without pomp in his\nchurch of Cambrai. During the Reign of Terror, the ancient tombs of\nthat church were rifled, the leaden coffins were sent to the arsenal\nto be melted into bullets, and their contents thrown into the common\nburial ground. But when the invaders came to the bier of F\u00e9nelon,\nit was borne with decency and veneration into the city, and placed\nin a monument erected to his memory at a time when the sepulchres\nof emperors and kings were ruthlessly dismantled, and their ashes\nscattered pitilessly to the four winds of heaven.\n\nOther great men of the age of F\u00e9nelon still live in history; few are\nadmired more than he, and none is so much loved by men who upon other\npoints are far from agreeing together. The wish expressed by one of\nhis distinguished countrymen, that his memory might have the same\nadvantage as his life, namely, that of making men love religion, has\nbeen fulfilled.\n\nHe wrote learnedly and eloquently in defence of his faith, and in\nrefutation of the views of his opponents; and yet he avoids in all\nhis works the extremes both of flattery and of harshness. Men of all\nreligions recognize in him a friend, for all were embraced in his\nworld-wide Christian charity; and yet they must bear with us, his\nfellow-Catholics, when we claim for our church the special honor of\nhaving made him the great and good man which all acknowledge him to\nhave been. The earliest lessons he received came from the lips of\ndevoted Catholic parents; and when his will was opened after his\ndeath, the first words read were the following emphatic expressions:\n\"I declare that I wish to die in the arms of the Catholic, Apostolic,\nand Roman Church, my mother. God, who reads the heart, and will be my\njudge, knows that there has not been an instant of my life in which\nI have not cherished for her the submission and docility of a little\nchild.\" A noble tribute this, and one which leads us to look not\ndespondingly to the tree which is capable of producing such sound and\ngenial fruit.\n\nThis transient reflection, ladies and gentlemen, presents itself\nnaturally to the mind, and nothing is further from my thoughts than\nan attempt to enlist your hearts against your cool judgment in\nfavor of the Roman Catholic Church. The claim which that church puts\nforth to your attention is based officially by her on her divine\nright to the reverence of mankind. She has never refused to give man\nthe history of her origin, and to submit to his earnest scrutiny\nthe proofs of her divine commission. She claims to be the only\ninstitution established on this earth to teach man what is necessary\nthat he may be saved, and asks and accepts no stinted or divided\nallegiance. She alleges distinctly that human reason is unable\nwithout assistance to find and embrace the true, and that the human\nwill is unable without assistance to find and embrace the good. She\nundertakes to impart the highest truth and the highest good to all\nwho take her for their guide and their mother. She has been more\ncordially hated, and more devotedly beloved, than any object that\nhistory in all its witnessing can tell of. She claims not only to be\na teacher, but a teacher endowed with unerring authority, and offers\nas vouchers for that claim the clear promise of her divine Founder,\nto abide with her until the end of time, and the lives and deaths\nof innumerable men and women taught by her to live perfectly upon\nearth. She has never disguised the greatness of that sacrifice of\nself which must be made by every man who would enjoy the peace here\nand the immortality of happiness hereafter, which she pledges to her\nfaithful children; but she promises, in the name of God, supernatural\nassistance for making that sacrifice in spite of its seeming terrors.\nShe uses no efforts to gain popularity; her system moves slowly,\nand rarely in such form as to take advantage of the interests or\naspirations of the day. She never aims to be found on the side of\nhuman passions. She hesitates not to condemn those who differ with\nher authorized teachings, and she intimates to every man who sets up\nan altar against her altar that he does God and his fellow-mortals no\ngood service, either temporal or eternal.\n\nWhatever religious symbolism has been offered in the world hitherto\nas a substitute for her apostolic creed, has been founded on the\nprinciple that man is fit to take into his own hands the management\nof the affairs of his own soul; but the Catholic Church tells man\nthat his private judgment is sure to mislead him in matters of\nreligion, in spite of lofty aspirations and purity of intention;\nthat he is bound not only to render obedience to his God, but in the\nmanner God requires it; and nevertheless that religious direction\nneed not be arbitrary; that it no more violates the freedom of man's\nwill than the strong hand of a parent violates the freedom of the\nlittle child whom it leads lovingly onward and prevents from falling\nweakly to the ground.\n\nNo system which presents to man effort and self-restraint in the\npresent, and advantage and freedom in the future only, can flatter\nhis love of ease and selfish enjoyment. He is thus, at intervals\nat least, impatient of order, though it is heaven's first law; of\nlegislation, though it has for its object the greatest good of the\ngreatest number; of society, though its proper aim is to make each a\nfriend and a helper to all, and all friends and helpers to each; and\nof science, that teaches him the laws of nature and the sad effects\nof their violation. By the same spirit is man urged to resent and\ncast off the restraints imposed upon him by religion and the church.\nBut in this case, and in the others the opposition comes not from\nreason; it is the uprising of selfish interest or passion, assuming\nto speak out for the whole man, and for all time.\n\nAgain, that which is spoken against as the church is not the\nchurch; that which is spoken against as the belief, or practice, or\nrequirement of the church, is hers perhaps in appearance, but in very\ntruth it is not what she upholds, but what she reproves and opposes.\nThere is a weird presentment bodied forth in English literature and\ncalled popery. It is certainly a figure of no amiable or attractive\nlineaments; it is worthy of the hatred of honest men. But it is not\nthe Catholic Church. If the Catholic Church were the same thing as\nthis ghost which goes by the name of popery, we should hate it too;\nfor it deserves to be hated, and we are men possessing the same\nfaculties as our neighbors who hate it. We do not hate the Catholic\nChurch; we love her, and honor her as our mother, and so would our\nneighbors, if they saw her and knew her as we do.\n\nLet us here understand the thing plainly. I uphold the doctrine and\nthe practice of the Catholic Church; for I believe her to be the true\nchurch that the Son of God established on this earth, and ransomed\nat the price of his precious blood. But I can say for myself and for\nevery Catholic who has been properly instructed in his religion, that\nwe do not undertake to defend what has been done weakly or wickedly\nby men, even though they too called themselves Catholics.\n\nI believe that light travels from east to west, and the faith\nwhich Judea gave to Rome, and Rome to Europe, and Europe to us, is\nthe faith by which we are to be saved, if saved at all. But while\nthanking Europe for the true religion, I pray to my God that all\nthe ancient feuds and heart-burnings which have distracted older\ncountries in the name of religion may not be transplanted to this\nvirgin soil.\n\nAllow me to close my remarks, ladies and gentleman, with the\nheart-felt wish that we may all live faithful to our honest\nconvictions, preach our religion by word and example, and force upon\neach other nothing but the endearing offices of fraternal charity.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[193] A Lecture delivered before the Young Men's Christian\nAssociation of Boston, by the late Rev. Dr. Cummings, pastor of St.\nStephen's Church, New York.\n\n\n\n\nDION AND THE SIBYLS.\n\nA CLASSIC, CHRISTIAN NOVEL.\n\nBY MILES GERALD KEON, COLONIAL SECRETARY, BERMUDA, AUTHOR OF \"HARDING\nTHE MONEY-SPINNER,\" ETC.\n\n\nPART II.\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nThe die was cast, and Paulus went away plighted to an undertaking\nwhich appeared sufficiently arduous, and some of the chances of which\nwere even full of horror.\n\nThe news of the arrangement spread through the palace of the Mamurras\nbefore he had well quitted Formi\u00e6. From the palace it circulated\nthrough the town, from the town it reached the camp the same evening;\nand next day the surrounding country knew it. Carrier-pigeons[194]\nhad borne to Rome a hint of the gayeties, the interest, and the\nsplendor which the simultaneous occurrence of the emperor's visit,\nand the collection of an army for real fighting purposes, (in fact,\nto repel the German invasion,) were likely to call forth in the old\nLatian town; and now the same aerial messengers apprised many a sated\ncircus-goer in the capital that a very pretty novelty indeed would be\nadded to the contests of gladiators and the battles of wild beasts.\n\nThe concourse pouring into and converging from all parts toward\nFormi\u00e6, which had already been so extensive, increased, therefore,\ninto an enormous concentric movement. Nothing can better show what\na prodigious multitude was thus accidentally collected than the\nfact that, even at Rome, (which then contained four millions of\ninhabitants,) a diminution of pressure was perceptible, for the\ntime, to those who remained. This change resembled what Londoners\nexperience on the Derby day.\n\nPaulus, that evening, having passed a considerable time with\nhis mother and sister, (to whom he communicated the fact of his\nengagement without alarming them by explaining its peculiar horrors,)\nfelt little inclined to sleep. When, therefore, the lanista Thellus,\nwho had, as Claudius said he would invite him to do, brought back\nBenigna to Crispus's inn, was taking his leave of the Lady Aglais and\nof Agatha, Paulus said to him,\n\n\"Do not go soon; but come down into the garden and let us take\na stroll. We may not often be able to converse with each other\nhereafter.\"\n\n\"Gladly, my valiant youth,\" said Thellus; and they descended together.\n\nA beautiful starry and moonlit night looked down over Italy, as\nthey sauntered in the fragrant garden, conversing a little and then\nrelapsing into thoughtful silence.\n\nPresently Thellus said,\n\n\"This adventure of yours makes me unhappy.\"\n\n\"Well,\" returned Paulus, \"my mother and sister have such need of my\nprotection that I feel no levity about it myself. I confess that it\nis a grave business.\"\n\nThey now walked up and down the laurel alley a few turns, absorbed in\nthought.\n\nSuddenly two men approached them along two different gravel-walks in\nthe garden, one dressed as a slave, the other in the uniform of a\ndecurion, a legionary officer, slightly more important than a modern\nsergeant of the line in the English army.\n\nThe slave had one of the worst countenances, and the decurion one\nof the most honest, that Paulus in his very limited or Thellus in\nhis immense experience had ever beheld. Paulus recognized the slave\nat once; it was that Lygdus who had endeavored to bring him to the\nground by a side-sweep of Cneius Piso's sword, which this man, as the\nreader will remember, was carrying at the time.\n\nThe decurion gave Paulus a letter, directed in the same handwriting,\nfolded in the same style, and its silk thread sealed with the same\ndevice of a frog, as a certain communication which he had once before\nreceived.\n\nThe moon shone high, and so calm was the night that it proved easy to\nread the bold characters.\n\nThey ran thus:\n\n\"Velleius Paterculus, military tribune, salutes Paulus Lepidus\n\u00c6milius. Renounce this absurd engagement, which cannot concern\nyou. It is yet possible, but will be too late to-morrow, to plead\nignorance of what you were undertaking. Leave wretched slaves to\ntheir fate!--VALE.\"\n\nPaulus, after reading this note, begged the decurion to wait, and,\nturning to Lygdus, asked his business.\n\nThe slave stated his name, and said he was appointed to receive,\ndating from the day after the next, the provender which he understood\nPaulus to be desirous of furnishing for the use of the Sejan horse.\n\n\"Has Tiberius C\u00e6sar appointed you.\"\n\n\"Sir, yes.\"\n\n\"Of course, then, you are used to horses?\"\n\n\"Sir, I have always belonged to the stable,\" said Lygdus.\n\n\"But,\" pursued Paulus, \"am I then forbidden to enter the stable\nmyself, and make acquaintance with the horse I have to break?\"\n\n\"Sir, I have orders,\" answered this Lygdus--who, as I think I have\nalready mentioned, was destined, as the instrument of Cneius Piso\nand Plancina, some few years later, to be the cruel assassin of\nGermanicus--\"I have orders always to admit you, and always to watch\nyou.\"\n\n\"_You_ to watch a Roman knight!\"\n\n\"For that matter, most honored sir,\" answered Lygdus, \"the rank of\nthe person watched does not alter the eyes of the watcher. I could\nwatch a Roman senator, or even a Roman C\u00e6sar, if necessary.\"\n\n\"I will be security you could,\" said Thellus, whose great and almost\ndiaphanous nostrils quivered as he spoke.\n\nLygdus, by way of answer, withdrew a pace.\n\nThe decurion, meanwhile, had taken off his helmet, and the starry\nheavens were not more clear than his indignant, simple countenance.\n\n\"It is well,\" said Paulus. \"I will ask for you at Formi\u00e6. Go now.\"\n\nLygdus therefore went away.\n\n\"Decurion,\" said Paulus, \"say to the esteemed Velleius Paterculus\nthat I am very grateful to him; but what must be, must be.\"\n\n\"And what is _that_, noble sir?\" answered the decurion, \"in case my\ncommanding officer should ask me for an explanation?\"\n\n\"That I have given my word advertently, and will keep it faithfully,\"\nreplied Paulus.\n\n\"Is this, noble sir,\" said the decurion, \"what you mean by _that\nwhich must be_?\"\n\n\"Have I, then,\" answered Paulus, \"said any thing obscure or confused?\"\n\n\"Only something unusual, excellent sir,\" said the decurion; \"but not\nany thing confused or obscure. Permit me to add, that the whole camp\nknows the circumstances of this miserable undertaking, and wishes you\nwell; and I feel in my single bosom the good wishes of the whole camp\nfor your success.\"\n\n\"What is your name, brave decurion?\"\n\n\"Longinus.\"\n\n\"Well,\" replied Paulus, \"if I survive the struggle with this\ncreature, I mean to join the expedition of Germanicus C\u00e6sar, and I\nwill have my eye upon you. I should like to be your informant that\nyou were promoted to a higher rank, and to call you the _Centurion\nLonginus_.\"\n\nTears were standing in the Roman decurion's eyes as he bowed to take\nleave.\n\nThellus and Paulus, being now left again alone, resumed their walk up\nand down the laurel alley.\n\n\"I am not so conversant with horses,\" observed Thellus, \"as I could\nfor your sake at present wish to be. But all animals, I notice, are\nmore quiet _when blinded_.\"\n\nAt this moment the branches of a cross-walk rustled, and a stately\nfigure in the Greek _l\u00e6na_ \u03c7\u03bb\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bd\u03b1 approached them.\n\n\"Are you not \u00c6milius, the nephew of the triumvir?\" asked the stranger.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied Paulus.\n\n\"Who is this?\" continued the new-comer, looking at Thellus. \"I have\nsomething to say which may concern your safety.\"\n\n\"You may trust this brave man,\" said Paulus; \"it is my friend\nThellus.\"\n\n\"Well,\" pursued the other, in a very low tone, \"take this little pot\nof ointment; and two hours before you have to ride the Sejan horse,\ngo into his stable, make friends with him, and rub his nostrils with\nthe contents. He will be then muzzled, you know. You will find him\nafterward docile.\"\n\n\"Whom have I to thank for so much interest in me?\" demanded Paulus.\n\n\"My name is Charicles,\" replied the stranger hesitatingly, and still\nspeaking almost in a whisper; \"and I have the honor of numbering\nDionysius of Athens among the best of my friends.\"\n\n\"My mother,\" returned Paulus, \"would, I think, be glad to see you\nsome day soon.\"\n\n\"I shall feel it an honor; but pray excuse me to her to-night,\" said\nCharicles. \"Tiberius C\u00e6sar knows nothing of my absence, and I had\nbetter return at once to Formi\u00e6. I will visit you again.\"\n\n\"But would this ointment injure the horse?\" inquired Paulus.\n\n\"Not by any means,\" said Charicles; \"it comes from a distant eastern\nland. It will merely make him sleepy. I have been more than an hour\nand a half handling the ingredients, and I can hardly keep awake\nmyself. Forgive my hurry--farewell.\" And the stately Greek made an\nobeisance as he disappeared.\n\nPaulus remained, holding the pot, which consisted of some kind of\nporcelain, in his hand, and looking at it, when Thellus exclaimed,\n\n\"Why, this laurel hedge is alive!\"\n\nIn a moment he had sprung through it and returned, dragging in his\nmighty grasp Lygdus the slave.\n\n\"Not yet departed?\" said Thellus.\n\n\"Sir, I was asleep,\" replied the slave, with a look of terror.\n\n\"I have but to tighten my fingers,\" cried Thellus, \"and you will\nsleep so as not to awake in a hurry.\"\n\n\"Thellus,\" observed Paulus, \"I am not depending either on this man's\nknowledge or on this man's ignorance. I have quite other hopes and\nother grounds of confidence. Let him go.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said Thellus, \"I would like to have the chastising of you. But\ngo, as this noble gentleman desires; go, then, as the young Roman\nknight bids you!\"\n\nHe shook the reptile-headed, down-looking, and side-looking slave\naway, and the latter disappeared.\n\n\"O friend and noble sir!\" said Thellus, \"it nearly breaks my heart to\nsee you thus bound hand and foot, and doomed to destruction.\"\n\n\"Have a good heart, dear Thellus,\" said Paulus.\n\nSo they parted, the gladiator returning to his vehicle, and Paulus\nretiring to his room, where, as he lay on his bed and listened to\nthe plash of the fountain in the impluvium, he silently and calmly\noffered back to the great unknown God whom Dionysius worshipped the\nlife which he, that unknown Deity, could alone have given.\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nNext morning, before the family were out of their beds, Phylis the\nslave had returned from Monte Circello with the following note:\n\n\"Marcus Lepidus \u00c6milius hails the widow of his brave and valiant\nbrother. Come with your children. The last of mine has, alas! died\nunder the clemency of one man, and the liberality of another. The\nclement man is Augustus, the liberal man was M\u00e6cenas. All that I\nnow retain is yours; and yours shall be all I may be able to leave.\nFarewell.\"\n\nBut despite of this note, Paulus could not persuade his mother\nto depart from that neighborhood till after the trifling display\nof horsemanship, as he called it, which he had to afford for the\namusement of the Roman world on the evening of the third day ensuing.\nA little ruffled at his failure to persuade the Lady Aglais to go\naway, he summoned their freedman Philip, and with him for a companion\nstarted on foot for Formi\u00e6 before noon, along a road as thronged at\nthat moment and as animated as the road to Epsom is the eve of what\nLord Palmerston has rather affectedly, and, as applied to an annual\nevent, very incorrectly, called the Isthmian games of England.\n\nScarcely had he and Philip entered the southern gate, when they\nnoticed a little crowd around some nurses, one of whom, apparently\na Nubian, held the hand of a magnificently-attired child of any age\nbetween five and eight. At his side was an eastern-looking youth\nof about eighteen, whom the reader has met before. Thellus the\ngladiator was standing with folded arms on the outskirts of the\nsuddenly-collected concourse. The child had dropped some toy, which a\ndog had seized in his mouth, and had thereby defaced. The dog was now\na prisoner, held fast by the throat in a slave's hands.\n\n\"The poor dog knew not what he was doing,\" said the nurse.\n\n\"I care nothing for that,\" cried the child, who was purple with\npassion. \"Strangle him, Lygdus.\"\n\nAnd accordingly Lygdus tightened his grasp of the dog's throat till\nthe animal's tongue was thrust forth; the grasp was yet longer\nmaintained, and the dog was throttled dead.\n\n\"Is it dead?\" screamed the child.\n\n\"Quite; see,\" replied Lygdus, casting away upon the street the\nbreathless carcass.\n\n\"Ah! beautiful!\" cried the child; \"now come away.\"\n\n\"Nice and neat as an execution,\" said a powerfully-built, dusky,\nmiddle-aged man, having a long, ruddy beard, streaked with gray,\naround whom were several slaves in Asiatic dress. This person also\nthe reader has met before. \"But,\" added he, \"I am going up for my own\ntrial, and I hope it will not be followed by another execution.\"\n\n\"I only hope it _will_\" cried the interesting child. \"What fun it\nwould be to see a man strangled.\"\n\n\"Who is that infant monster, Thellus?\" asked Paulus.[195]\n\n\"He is the son of Germanicus and Agrippina; his name is Caius. You\nsee, young as he is, he already wears the _calig\u00e6_ of the common\nsoldiers, among whom he continually lives. It is his delight. They\nnickname him Caligula. Do you know, there are good chances he yet\nwears the purple, and succeeds Augustus, or at least Augustus's next\nheir, as emperor of the world.\"\n\n\"Happy world will it be under his rule,\" said Paulus.\n\nSuddenly there were cries of \"Make way.\" Lictors moved, making large\nroom among the crowd. Sejanus appeared in the robes of a pr\u00e6tor; and\nPaulus and his friend Thellus found themselves borne along, like\nleaves in a stream, toward the back of the Mamurran palace, in a\nlarge room on the ground floor of which they presently beheld the\nbig, dusky-colored man of fifty or thereabouts, with the long, ruddy,\ngray-streaked beard, standing before a sort of bar. Behind the bar,\non a chair of state, like the curule chair of the senators, Augustus\nwas sitting. A crowd of famous persons, many of whom we have already\nhad occasion to mention, stood behind him, and on either hand Livy,\nLucius Varius, Haterius, Domitius Afer, Antistius Labio, Germanicus,\nand Tiberius C\u00e6sar were there. In a row behind were Cneius Piso,\nPontius Pilate, and the boy Herod Agrippa.\n\n\"And so,\" said Augustus, \"you tell us you are the son of Herod the\nGreat, as he is called; in other words, Herod the Idum\u00e6an; his son\nAlexander?\"\n\n\"We have seen,\" said Paulus to Thellus, in a whisper, \"the fate of\na dog; we are now to learn that of a king, or a pretender to the\ndignity.\"\n\n\"Great and dread commander, such I am,\" answered the red-bearded,\nbig, dark man.\n\n\"But,\" said Augustus, \"the accredited rumor runs that Herod condemned\nhis two sons, Aristobulus and Alexander, to death. Nay, I have the\nofficial report sent to me at the time by the prefect of Syria, and\nletters from Herod the Idum\u00e6an himself.\"\n\n\"Herod condemned them, but the executioner killed others instead,\"\nanswered the Jew. \"_They_ escaped to Sidon.\"\n\n\"_Them and they!_\" said Augustus; \"you mean that others were executed\ninstead of _them_?\"\n\n\"Yes, my commander.\"\n\n\"Why do you not,\" pursued Augustus, \"say INSTEAD OF US?\"\n\n\"I do not understand,\" replied the Jew.\n\n\"Are you not,\" asked Augustus, \"one of them?\"\n\n\"I am the son of Herod.\"\n\n\"You speak as though you had gone out of that person. You speak\nrather like a historian than like a sufferer and an actor. You are\ntalking of yourself and your brother, yet you say THEY, not WE!\"\n\n\"Such is the style of the east, emperor.\"\n\n\"Pardon me,\" said Augustus; \"I know the style of the east perfectly\nwell. Solve me now another difficulty: I also well know Herod the\nIdum\u00e6an, many cases connected with whom were litigated before me,\nand decided by me. Now, I never knew a man who, having determined\nthat any body was to die, took such methodical pains to carry that\ndetermination into effect. He dealt largely in executions; and if\nthere was a person in the world, it was Herod, who saw with his own\neyes that his intended executions should be realities.\"\n\n\"Mine was not,\" said the Jew, and a laugh arose in court. \"All the\nJews in Sidon know that I am Alexander, son of Herod; all those in\nCrete know it; all those in Melas know it; and when I landed at\nDicearchia, all the Jews received me as their king; and you are not\nignorant, great emperor, that thousands of my countrymen in Rome, the\nother day, carried me upon a royal litter through the streets, and\nclothed me in royal robes and ornaments, and received me, wherever I\nwent, with shouts of welcome as Herod's son.\"\n\n\"And you have then,\" replied Augustus, after a pause, \"been nurtured\nas a royal person is in the east?\"\n\n\"Always,\" answered the Jew.\n\n\"I myself,\" returned Augustus, \"have seen and known the son\nAlexander, as well as his father Herod; and though you are not unlike\nthe son, yet you--_show me your hands_.\"\n\nThe Jew stretched forth his hands.\n\n\"Those hands have toiled from infancy. Uncover your neck and\nshoulders.\"\n\nThis was done.\n\nAugustus immediately ordered the room to be cleared; and it was\nafterward known that he had extorted a confession of his imposture\nfrom this Alexander; and that, sparing his life, he condemned him to\nrow one of the state galleys in chains for the rest of his days.\n\n\"Not much like dotage, all this,\" muttered Tiberius to Cneius Piso.\n\nThe eastern-looking youth, holding the hand of the child Caius\nCaligula, and followed by Pontius Pilate, waited for Augustus in a\npassage--through which Paulus and Thellus were now trying to make\ntheir way into the street.\n\nWhen the emperor came out, observing that the youth desired to speak\nwith him, he stopped, saying,\n\n\"What wish you, Herod Agrippa?\"\n\n\"Emperor, I have told you that this man is not my uncle.\"\n\n\"And I,\" said Augustus \"have now settled the question. He is not.\"\n\n\"This officer behind me (Pilate is his name) has been very obliging\nto us ever since our arrival. I wish, my sovereign, you would send\nhim to Judea as procurator.\"\n\n\"He is too young,\" replied Augustus; \"but I will put his name in my\ntablets. Perhaps, under my successor, he may obtain the office.\"\n\n\"I want a favor,\" cried the child Caius.\n\n\"What is it, orator?\" asked Augustus. (Caligula displayed as a child\na precocious volubility of speech, which procured him the epithet by\nwhich he was now addressed.)\n\n\"That man, that black Jew--who pretended to be my friend's\nuncle--won't you put him to death?\"\n\n\"_Externi sunt isti mores_,\" replied Augustus, quoting Cicero; \"that\nwould be quite a foreign proceeding. The anger that sheds unnecessary\nblood belongs to the levity of the Asiatics, or the truculence of\nbarbarians.\"\n\nMeanwhile Paulus and Thellus, who had unavoidably overheard these\nscraps of conversation, emerged now once more into the street, and\nThellus guided Paulus to the stables of Tiberius C\u00e6sar, where they\nfound Lygdus expecting the visit. He led them into a long range of\nbuildings, and showed them, standing in a stall which had a door to\nitself, so contrived as to avoid the necessity of letting any other\nhorses, when coming or going, pass him without some intervening\nprotection, the famous Sejan steed. The walls were tapestried with\nleafy vine-boughs, and the stable seemed very cool, clean, and well\nkept.\n\nThe stature of the ominous horse, as we have had occasion already\nto mention, was unusually large; but the fineness of his form took\naway the idea of unwieldiness, and gave a guarantee of both power and\nspeed. However, any person who had studied horses, and was learned\nin their _points_, (which to a great extent merely means learned in\ntheir anatomy,) would at a glance have condemned this one's head.\nIt was, indeed, not lacking in physical elegance, although not lean\nenough; the forehead was very broad, but the eye was not sufficiently\nprominent nor mild in expression, and it shot forth a restless light;\nthe muzzle and the ears, moreover, were coarse; the bones, from\nthe eye down, were too concave, and the nostril appeared to be too\nthick. Something untrustworthy, and almost wicked, characterized the\nexpression of the head altogether. The jaws were wide, and the neck\nwas extraordinarily deep. The shoulders were not so flat or so thin\nas the Romans liked them to be; the girth round the heart was vast;\nthe chest broad and full; the body barrel-shaped. The limbs were\nlong, (which, says Captain Nolan, \"is weakness, not power;\") but then\nthe bones were everywhere well covered with muscle, the hind-legs\nbeing remarkably straight in the drop; in short, they promised an\nimmense stride, when the animal should be urged to his fastest gallop.\n\n\"Now,\" said Paulus, after attentively examining these and a great\nmany other points, which it would be too technical for us to detail,\n\"I see he is not muzzled, but tied by the head, and I perceive a\ncurious arrangement--that platform behind his manger, and raised\nsomewhat higher than it. The object is to feed him thence, and\napproach him there, I suppose? Moreover, I observe you have pulleys\nin the roof and broad bands depending from them; do you then lift him\noff his legs when you groom him?\"\n\nLygdus assented. Paulus, after looking attentively at the animal's\nhoofs, and forming an idea of the state of his feet, inquired,\n\n\"Is he savage to all alike, or can you, for instance, approach him?\"\n\n\"Sir, I always take my precautions,\" answered the slave.\n\nPaulus went round, and stood some ten minutes in front of the horse\non the raised platform behind the manger, then shook a double handful\nof corn down before him and watched him eat it. Satisfied at length\nwith this scrutiny, he now made arrangements for Philip to remain\nconstantly in the stable, even sleeping there at night, and quitting\nit only to accompany the horse when taken out for exercise; and he\nmade it clearly understood that Philip should superintend the feeding\nand grooming of the animal till he should be led forth for Paulus to\nride him at the appointed time. We have said nothing to explain why\nthe youth did not ride him muzzled, as often and as long as possible,\nduring the two days which were still left for preparation; the fact\nbeing that he proposed even now to do so; but found that, not having\nthought of stipulating for this as one of the conditions, when he\nhad his interview with Tiberius, orders had been given to Lygdus that\nno person whatever was to mount the horse till the hour when Paulus\nwas to attempt his subjugation, in presence of the court, camp, and\npeople. Very much disappointed, and blaming his own want of foresight\nin not having extorted so important a right, Paulus now left the\nfreedman \"on duty\" in the stables, Thellus volunteering to revisit\nhim, and to bring plenty of provisions of all sorts, and thus to save\nthe necessity of purveying for him from the distance of Crispus's\ninn. When our hero and the gladiator had retired, Philip began to\nmake a couch of fresh and fragrant hay for himself on the platform\nbehind the manger, muttering,\n\n\"But, if I sleep, it shall be with one eye open and the other not\nquite closed. If I find that scoundrel, for he looks a scoundrel,\nplaying any tricks, I'll strangle him so surely as I have five\nfingers on each hand.\"\n\nAs Philip thus muttered, Lygdus drew nigh and addressed him.\n\n\"Your young master, I fear,\" he said, \"has not long to live; no one\ncan ride this horse.\"\n\n\"Three circumstances,\" replied Philip, seating himself deliberately\non a roll of hay, \"are unknown to you. I will tell you them. The\nfirst is, that this is not at all a case for mere horsemanship,\nalthough it is not to be denied that horsemanship is necessary.\nCourage and wit are more needful than any bodily adroitness in\nreminding brutes that their master is man. That is the first\ncircumstance. The second is, that my young master learnt his riding\namong the \u00c6tolians, who are not matched in the world.\"\n\n\"Take a sip of wine,\" said Lygdus, handing him a flask of hide.\n\n\"After you,\" said the wary old freedman.\n\nLygdus drank a little, wiped the mouth of the flask with a vine-leaf,\nand tendered it once more to Philip, saying,\n\n\"The first and second of your remarks seem to me to be appropriate,\nalthough I think the Gaulish riders equal to the \u00c6tolians. I should\nlike to hear the third circumstance.\"\n\nPhilip sipped some of the wine, gave back the vessel to the slave,\nand proceeded,\n\n\"The third has relation to your phrase, 'I fear.' My master,\nPaulus Lepidus \u00c6milius, has been born and reared to fear death not\nover-much.\"\n\n\"_Edepol!_\" cried Lygdus; \"what is to be feared more?\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Philip, \"various things _he_ fancies, and _I_ fancy\nso too. Considering that all men must die, and can die only once,\nand that it has become somehow, I suppose, by practice and decree,\nas natural as to be born, and that we have been doing nothing for\nthousands of years but making way for each other in that manner, it\nwould be an error to look upon death as the greatest evil. Why, man,\nI should go mad if that which none can avoid was the greatest evil\nthat any can incur.\"\n\n\"_Edepol!_\" exclaimed the slave again; \"you are apparently right. Yet\nwhat can be conceived worse than death? You mean immense pain, long\ncontinuing; in which case a wise man would put an end to himself.\"\n\n\"_Wise!_\" returned Philip; \"but it would be useless to reason with\nsuch as you. You should have heard, as I have heard him, Dionysius\nthe Athenian upon this topic. When you make such reflections, is it\nyour big toe, for example, or your belly, or your elbow, or any part\nof your body, that makes them? You may put an end to your body, and\nwe know what becomes of it. When it is no longer fit, as the young\nAthenian says, to be the house of that which thinks and reflects\nwithin it, this last departs; for the body, once dead, ceases to\nthink or reflect, and as soon as the _thinker_ does thus depart, the\nbody rots.\n\n\"But _that other thing_ which kept the body from rotting, that other\nthing which thinks and reflects, and which is conscious that it is\nalways the same, that it always has been itself--that _other thing_\nwhich knows its own unalterable identity through all the changes of\nthe body, from squalling childhood to stiff-kneed age--how can that\nother thing, which may easily depart out of the body and leave it\nto perish, _depart out of itself_? A thing may leave another thing;\nbut how can any thing be left by itself? When this thing, says\nDionysius, goes away from the body, the body always dies. It was,\ntherefore, the body's life. But out of its own self this life cannot\ngo (can any thing go out of itself?) and if it goes out of the body\nunbidden, what will it say to him who had put it therein when he\nasks, Sentinel, why have you quitted your post? Servant, why have you\nleft your charge? What brings you hither? I am angry with you! What\nwill this always conscious, always identical thing, then reply?\"\n\n\"You frighten me,\" said Lygdus. \"What, then, can be more feared by a\nreasonable man than death?\"\n\n\"My young master, for example,\" replied Philip, \"so long, be it\nalways understood, as he is not his own murderer, would prefer to die\nin honor than to live in shame. His father, the brave Roman tribune,\nused to say to him as a boy, that a disgraced life was worse than a\nuseless life, and a useless life worse than a noble death. But who\ncomes hither?\"\n\nThe interesting little child Caius Caligula, and the boy Herod\nAgrippa, entered the stable as Philip spoke.\n\n\"Oh! there is the big wild horse,\" cried the sweet infant, who had\nonly just arrived at the use of his reason; \"but where is the young\nman that is to be eaten? I want to tell him what will become of him,\nand then to watch his face.\"\n\n\"He is, I see, even, now coming back,\" said Philip sternly. He stood\nup as he spoke, and an instant afterward Paulus, who was attended by\nthe slave Claudius, bearing a basket of provisions for old Philip,\ncrossed the threshold.\n\n\"Ah!\" said Caligula, \"you are the person, are you not, who are to\nbe first thrown off that horse, next to be danced upon by him, and\nfinally to have your head crunched between his grinders, and that\nfine wavy hair of yours will not protect your head?\"\n\n\"That is a graphic description,\" said Paulus; \"but I trust it will\nnot be realized.\"\n\n\"Are you not very frightened? Do not you feel very unhappy?\"\n\nPaulus seemed to experience some repugnance to converse with this\nchild; but guessing him to belong to the imperial family, he answered\nwith a calm smile,\n\n\"Well, I do not feel the grinders yet.\"\n\n\"I will fix my eyes fast upon you,\" returned the child, \"from the\nmoment you mount.\"\n\n\"May they be blinded before they witness what they wish to behold!\"\nmuttered Philip.\n\nDuring this short conversation, Lygdus noticed something white\ngleaming in a fold of Paulus's tunic at the side, and picked it,\nunperceived by any one, out of the species of pocket where it lay.\nCaligula, after scrutinizing Paulus's face, turned away, and ran\nrapidly up the stable, passing behind the horse.\n\nHe skipped and danced a few moments on the other side, gazing at the\nanimal, and exclaiming, \"Good horse! fine horse! beautiful horse!\"\n\nLygdus immediately called out to him not to come back till he had\nclosed the door of the box, the leaf of which was on the hither\nside, and could be flung to, and the slave proceeded to do this.\nBut Caligula, with a sort of skipping run, still uttering his\nexclamations and looking sideways into the stall as he passed, had\nalready begun to return, giving Sejanus's heels as wide an offing as\nthe place allowed. A short, ferocious whinny, more like the cry of\nsome wild beast than the neigh of a horse, was heard, and Sejanus\nlashed out his hind-legs.\n\nCaligula would probably have crossed, beyond range of harm, the\nline of this acknowledgment which the brute was making to him, in\nreturn for his ejaculatory compliments, only for the very precaution\nwhich Lygdus had taken, and which actually furnished the animal with\na projectile, and transmitted to a further distance, by means of\nthe door-leaf, nearly the full force of the blow. As the door was\nswinging home, the powerful hoofs met it, and, shivering it from top\nto bottom, dashed it open again, and sent the outer edge of it and a\nlarge detached splinter against the middle of Caligula's forehead and\nface, from the hair down along the whole line of the nose; for, as we\nhave remarked, his face happened to be turned sideways to receive the\nblow just when it was delivered. He fell insensible; but having been\nalready in motion, the united effect of the two forces was to cast\nhim beyond the reach of any further usage on the part of the Sejan\nsteed. Lygdus immediately lifted him up, and he, with Herod Agrippa,\ncarried Caligula into the open air. Paulus and Philip followed; but\nascertaining that the injury was superficial, they returned to the\nstable, where they were now left alone.\n\n\"I heard him tell you, my master,\" said Philip to Paulus, \"that he\nwould fasten his eyes upon you, when you mounted yonder brute; now,\nhe will not open those eyes for a week, and whatever happens to you,\nhe is not going to see it. He is not seriously hurt; he'll be as well\nas ever in ten days; but for the present his beauty is spoilt, and\nhe's as blind as the dead.\"\n\nPaulus now in a low tone related to the freedman, whose services\nwould be necessary in the matter, the visit of Charicles, and the\ngift to him by that learned man of an unguent which, if rubbed into\nthe horse's nostrils, would render him sleepy, and, therefore, quiet.\nThe old servant expressed great wonder and admiration at such a\ndevice, and Paulus felt with his hand for the little porcelain pot\nwhere he remembered to have placed it. Needless to say, it was gone.\n\n\"Well,\" said the youth, after a few questions and answers had been\nexchanged, \"I must even take my chance without it. Charicles, I hear,\nhas just been summoned to Rome, so that I cannot get any more of the\ncompound. Farewell; I must now return to Crispus's inn.\"\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nThe day when the singular struggle was to occur, the expectation\nof which had excited such curiosity, arose bright, breezeless, and\nsultry, and so continued till long past noon; but the sun was now\nsinking toward the Tyrrhenian Sea, and a cool, soft air had begun to\nblow as the hour approached when the nephew of the triumvir was to\nmount the horse Sejanus, in the presence of such a multitude as the\nfields of Formi\u00e6 had never before beheld, whether in times of peace\nor times of war.\n\nAt the distance of a few miles on every side, the fair vales and\nslopes of Italy presented the appearance of a deserted land, over\nwhich no sound was heard save the drowsy hum of insects, the\noccasional sough of the rising breeze in the tops of the woods, and,\npredominant over all, far and near, the piercing ring of the cicala,\nwith its musical rise and fall and its measured intervals. The fire\nof the wayside forge lay under its ashes; all its anger taking rest,\nits hoarse roar asleep, till the breath of the bellows should once\nmore awaken it to resistance and torment it into fury. All the labors\nof tillage were suspended; the plough wearied no team of oxen; little\ngirls were watching the flocks and herds. Their fathers and mothers\nand brothers had all gone away since early morning, and would not\nreturn till night-fall. A lonely traveller from the south, whose\nhorse had cast a shoe and fallen lame, had no alternative but to\ntake off bridle and housings, leave them under a tree in charge of\na little damsel five or six years old, turn his steed loose in a\nsoft field of clover, and continue his own journey on foot along the\nsilent highway, amid the silent land.\n\nThe seats of the temporary amphitheatre were all filled; while within\nand beneath them, standing, but standing on three several elevations,\ncontrived by means of planks, (the rearmost being the highest,) were\nsix ranks of soldiers from the camp; the two inner ranks consisting\nexclusively of \u00c6lius Sejanus's pr\u00e6torians. Immediately behind the\ncentre of the amphitheatre, where Augustus with his court sat upon\na strongly-built, lofty, and somewhat projecting wooden platform,\ncanopied from the glare, a grove of tall and shady trees offered in\ntheir branches an accommodation of which the fullest advantage had\nbeen taken by a vast miscellaneous multitude, chiefly youths and\nboys; but among them soldiers who had received a holiday, and had\nfound no room for themselves in the amphitheatre, were also numerous,\ntheir costumes rendering them easily distinguishable. On each side of\nthe large canopied platform of the emperor and the C\u00e6sars, with their\ncourt, were several seats of honor lined with purple and scarlet\ncloths, and connected with the _estrade_ in question by continuous\npavilion roofs, but having their own benches. Here many ladies and\nsome boys and girls sat. It is in one of these we are ourselves going\nto take post, invisible but watchful, unheard but hearing.\n\nOn the seat immediately in front of ours, and of course a little\nbelow it, is a group of three persons, attended by a slave. With\nthese persons, and even with their slave, we have already made more\nor less acquaintance. One of them the doctors had forbidden to go\nforth; but he had come. He is a mere child; his pretty face is\nshockingly disfigured; both his eyes are closed and blacked; all\nthe flesh round them is a discolored and contused mass, his head is\nbandaged, and every nerve in his countenance is twitching with the\nfurious eagerness and curiosity of one whose organs of sight, if\nhe could only see with them, would ravenously devour the spectacle\nwhich all the rest of that mighty multitude were to enjoy, and from\nwhich he alone was to be debarred. Amid the immense murmur of so many\nhuman voices, we have to listen with attention, in order to catch\ndistinctly what the child says in his shrill treble tones.\n\n\"Now mark you, good Cneius Piso, and you, Herod Agrippa, I am as\nblind as a stone; and I have brought you here in no other character\nthan as my eyes, my left and my right eye. If a single iota of what\npasses escapes me, may all the gods destroy you both, worse than any\nRoman or Jew was ever destroyed before! Has that beast of a horse (if\nit was mine, I'd tether it by all four legs to the ground, and make\na squadron of cavalry back their horses against it, and kick it into\nshreds and little bits)--has that beast of a horse come forth yet?\"\n\n\"Not yet, orator,\" answered Piso. \"I see that your father, the\nillustrious Germanicus, has not taken his place in the emperor's\npavilion; he is riding about yonder in the arena, and so is Tiberius\nC\u00e6sar. I dare say they will prefer to remain on horseback; for they\ncan thus see quite as well, while the scene continues to be enacted\nin this place, and if the Sejan horse should break away through the\nopening in the amphitheatre opposite to us, they could follow and\nstill assist at the issue, whereas we could not.'\n\n\"But I _want_ to see; I _must_ see; I'll get on my pony too! Ah my\nsight! I could not ride blind! O that accursed horse!\"\n\n\"Then,\" said Piso, \"do you wish the youth to conquer the horse, or\nthe horse his rider?\"\n\nThe child yelled, and struck his forehead furiously with his fists.\n\n\"Oh! If I could only see! I ought not to have come! It is worse to\nbe here, knowing what is to happen, and having it all close under\nmy eyes, and not to see it, than if I was far away and without the\ntemptations around me. It is the hell of Tantalus; I cannot, _cannot_\nbear it.\"\n\nAfter a pause of impotent rage, he asked Piso was the crowd of\nspectators very large?\n\n\"It is the largest I ever beheld,\" answered Piso; \"it would be\nimpossible to count it, or to guess the number.\"\n\n\"I wish every one present was stone blind at this very moment,\" said\nthe dear child.\n\n\"Thanks, orator, on the part of all here present,\" answered Piso.\n\n\"Understand me--only for the moment,\" hastily returned Caligula; \"I\nwould give them their sight again when I recovered my own.\" A pause.\n\"Or even when to-day's show was over, perhaps.\"\n\nWhile yet he spoke, the hum and murmur, which had been incessant,\ndied rapidly away.\n\n\"What is it?\" asked Caligula.\n\n\"The Sejan horse is being led into the arena; two men, as usual, hold\ntwo cavassons on opposite sides. He is muzzled; two other grooms are\nnow slackening the muzzle, in order to get the bit well back between\nhis teeth by pulling up the reins which are under the muzzle, as the\nhorse opens his mouth.\n\n\"They have the bit properly placed now, and have quitted his head.\nOh! what a spring! It has jerked the further cavasson-holder clean\noff his feet. O gods! he has lost the cavasson, and the other man\nmust be destroyed. No, bravo! the fellow has regained the loop of his\nrein or thong, and hauls the beast handsomely back!\"\n\n\"How can one man on either side,\" asked Caligula, \"hold him? I have\nseen two on each side.\"\n\n\"I understand,\" replied Piso; but before he could finish his\nexplanation or remark, or whatever it was designed to be, a sudden\nand impressive silence fell upon that vast assembly, and Piso stopped\nshort.\n\n\"What has happened now?\" whispered the child.\n\n\"The rider has come forth,\" answered Piso, \"and is walking toward\nthe horse from the direction of the open space in front of us. By\nJupiter! a splendid youth; it is not to be denied.\"\n\n\"How is he dressed? Has he his whip and _stimuli_ (spurs)? He will\nnot need such helps, I surmise.\"\n\n\"He has no spurs, and he carries nothing in his hands. He wears that\nforeign-looking head-gear, the broad-rimmed petasus, as a shade, no\ndoubt, against the level rays of the sunset; for I see he is giving\ndirections to the grooms, and they are contriving to bring the horse\nround with his head toward the west. Ah! he thus faces the opening;\nI dare say he will try to push the animal into the excitement of a\ngrand rush, and thus weary him at the outset. In that case, we shall\nnot see much of the business; he will be miles away over the country\nin a few minutes.\"\n\n\"You will find that such an injustice will not be allowed,\" answered\nthe child. \"We must not be cheated out of our rights.\"\n\n\"His tunic,\" continued Piso, \"is belted tight, and I perceive that\nhe wears some kind of greaves, which reach higher than the knee,\nthat will protect him from the brute's teeth. Moreover, I notice a\ncontrivance in the horse's housings to rest the feet--you might call\nthem _staped\u00e6_; they seem to be made of plaited hide.\"\n\n\"I don't care for his greaves,\" returned the child; \"the teeth may\nnot wound him, but they will pull him off or make him lose his\nbalance all the same. It is agreed, is it not, that, as soon as he is\nmounted, the muzzle is to be slipped off the horse?\"\n\n\"Certainly,\" said Piso.\n\n\"Then the rest is certain,\" said the other. \"How is it contrived, do\nyou know?\" added he.\n\n\"The muzzle consists of a mere roll of hide,\" replied Piso; \"and\nit is those long reins alone which keep it folded, being passed in\nopposite directions round the animal's nose; while therefore both\nthe reins are pulled, or held tight, they bind the muzzle; but when\none of them only is pulled, it opens the muzzle. Each groom has the\nsame kind of double rein; and each, acting in concert, will set the\nbeast free as soon as they receive the signal.\"\n\n\"Who gives the signal?\"\n\n\"The rider himself, when he is fairly seated; but Tiberius will tell\nhim when to mount.\"\n\n\"Go on with your description of his dress and his looks. Does he seem\nafraid?\"\n\n\"He still wears that queer sword; I should have fancied it cumbersome\nto him. Afraid! I should say not. No sign of it.\n\n\"_Ver omnes!_\"\n\nAt first, this dialogue was sustained in a whisper; but as the lull\nof all noise was again gradually replaced by that hoarse hum, which\nis blent out of a hundred thousand low-toned murmured words, Piso and\nthe child Caligula raised their own voices, and the last exclamation\nof Piso was as loud as it was sudden.\n\n\"Has any thing further taken place?\"\n\n\"Why, yes,\" said Cneius Piso; \"and something which I do not\nunderstand. That old freedman of the youth, together with Thellus\nthe gladiator, have approached him, and Thellus holds in each hand\na sort of truncheon about a yard or more long; the top of which for\nmore than a foot is black; the rest is sheathed or plated in bronze;\nthe black top of the truncheon is thick; the rest, which is sheathed\nin the metal, is much thinner. The freedman who is by Thellus's side\nholds a small horn lantern in one hand, and tenders with the other\na pair of large woollen _chirothec\u00e6_ (gloves) to his young master,\nwho is even now putting them on. As he puts on his gloves, he looks\nround the benches; he is looking our way now. What can he mean?\nHe has the audacity to wave his hand, and smile, and nod in this\ndirection!\"\n\nThe slave whom we have mentioned as forming the fourth in this group\nwas no other than Claudius, whose part Paulus was now performing.\n\n\"By your leave, most honored lords,\" said Claudius, \"I think I am the\nperson whom that valiant youth is saluting.\"\n\n\"True,\" said Piso; \"he has taken your destined office to-day, has he\nnot?\"\n\n\"Yes, my lord,\" returned Claudius; \"and having caught sight of me, he\nbeckoned to me, doubtless, to bid me have good courage.\"\n\n\"Well!\" ejaculated Piso, \"that is a good joke. I think it is you who\nought to beckon to him to have good courage. He needs it more than\nyou.\"\n\nA moment after this remark, Cneius Piso suddenly turned to the child\nCaligula, and informed him that Tiberius was signing to him (Piso)\nto go down into the arena, and mount one of the spare horses; and,\nalthough unwillingly, he must go.\n\n\"And how shall I know what occurs?\" cried the passionate, voluble\nboy. \"It is like plucking out one of my eyes. Herod Agrippa here\nspeaks Latin with such a dreadful, greasy accent, and so slowly; he\nis but learning the language.\"\n\nPiso rose and said, \"I have no choice but to obey; you have the slave\nClaudius with you; he not only speaks fluently, but I'll answer for\nit he will watch all the stages of the struggle with at least as much\nattention as any person in all this crowd will! His liberty, his\nwedding, and fifty thousand sesterces are at stake.\"\n\nSaying this, he descended the steps of the narrow gangway which was\n(with scores of similar stairs) the means contrived for reaching and\nquitting the higher seats in the temporary circus. A few moments\nafterward, he was seen in the arena riding by the side of Tiberius to\nand fro.\n\n\"Now, slave, remember your duty,\" cried the child Caligula; \"let\nnothing escape _your_ eyes or my ears. What next?\"\n\n\"Those queer-looking staves, my lord, which the illustrious Cneius\nPiso has mentioned as being in the hands of Thellus, have passed into\nthose of the young knight, who is to conquer the terrible brute.\"\n\n\"What? the two truncheons with black, thick ends, and the rest of\ntheir length sheathed in metal? do you say that the knight Paulus has\ntaken them into his hands? What good can they do him?\"\n\n\"Yes, my lord; he has now passed both of them into his left hand, and\nholds them by the thin ends. Thellus has withdrawn a few paces; the\nold freedman, Philip, remains still near the youth. Ha!\"\n\n\"What!\"\n\n\"Tiberius C\u00e6sar has signalled the arena to be cleared. O gods! we\nshall soon see the issue now. I care not for my freedom; I care for\nthe safety of that brave young knight.\"\n\n\"Does he, then, seem to shrink?\" asked the child.\n\n\"I do not,\" replied Claudius, \"observe any shrinking, my lord. It is\nI who shrink. He has drawn slowly near the horse in front, and stands\nabout half a yard from his left shoulder. He is following Tiberius\nC\u00e6sar with his eyes.\"\n\n\"Go on!\"\n\n\"The arena is now clear of all save on the one hand the two C\u00e6sars\nand their retinues, who have taken their stand very near to us, just\nopposite to and beneath this platform, my lord; and on the other\nhand, the group around that horrible animal. Ah! me miserable!\nTiberius C\u00e6sar lifts his hand, and you hear the trumpet! That is the\nsignal.\"\n\n\"I hear it! I hear it!\" cried the child, in a sort of ecstasy. \"What\nfollows now? Has the knight Paulus mounted?\"\n\n\"No, my lord; he has--\"\n\n\"He shrinks, does he not?\" interrupted the other with a taunting\ngiggle.\n\n\"The horse trembles in every limb,\" said the slave; \"his nostrils\ndilate and quiver, and show scarlet, as if on fire; and his eyes\nshoot forth a blood-red gleam, and he has stooped his head, and--\"\n\n\"But the man, the man?\" screamed Caius; \"what of him? Has he not\nfailed, I say--lost heart?\"\n\nThe most profound stillness had succeeded to the hubbub of blended\nsounds which a moment previously filled the air.\n\nA trumpet blew a shrill prolonged minor note, and the child, laying\nhis hand upon Claudius's shoulder, and shaking him violently, cried\nto him to proceed with his descriptions; addressing to him again the\nquery, \"Has that young man mounted? And if so, in what style, with\nwhat success?\"\n\nNotwithstanding the despotic impatience with which the inquiries were\nurged, the slave Claudius did not at first reply; and the infant\nheard rapid, eager murmurs on all sides follow the trumpet blast,\nthen a general burst of exclamations, which were instantly hushed.\n\n\"Why do you not speak?\" said Caius, in a species of whispered scream.\n\n\"Pardon a momentary abstraction,\" replied Claudius. \"While the\ntrumpet was yet sounding, the young knight Paulus took off his\nhat quickly, and bowed toward Tiberius C\u00e6sar and the emperor; and\nreplacing his hat, he beckoned to the freedman Philip. This last has\napproached him, and they are even now speaking together.\"\n\n\"Ha! ha!\" interrupted the child; \"then he has not mounted. He neither\ndares nor can he.\"\n\n\"Philip,\" pursued Claudius, \"has opened the lantern; his young master\nis thrusting the staves toward the light; the ends have caught fire,\nin a dull degree, with some smoke accompanying the flame. He turns\nquickly away from the freedman, and holding the staves still in\nhis left hand, and a little away, he approaches the horse; now he\nstands with his feet close together. Oh! he has sprung clean from\nthe ground; he is in his seat. He has seized the bridle in his right\nhand, and carried it to his mouth; he takes it between his teeth. He\nis now relieving his left hand of one of those torches; he holds one\nin each hand, somewhat away from the body, nearly horizontal. The\ncavasson-holders at a distance are removing the muzzle, and the rider\nsends his feet firmly, yet I think not very far, through those rests\nwhich the illustrious Cneius Piso mentioned, those _staped\u00e6_ of hide,\nthe like of which I never saw before. I wonder they are not always\nused.\"\n\n\"What of the horse? Is he motionless?\"\n\n\"Not less so than a statue,\" replied the slave; \"excepting the eyes\nand nostrils, which last exhibit a tremulous movement, and show\nscarlet, like hollow leaves or thin shells on fire. The brute's\nconcave head, from the scarlet nostril to the lurid eye, looks wicked\nand dire.\"\n\n\"How looks the rider?\"\n\n\"Calm and heedful; the slight occasional breath of air from the east\ncarries away to the front the slow flame, blent with a little smoke\nof those torches which he holds one in each hand.\"\n\n\"What can they be for?\"\n\n\"I know not,\" replied Claudius.\n\n\"I suppose they are intended,\" said the child, \"to compel the Sejan\nhorse to keep his head straight. Thus your volunteer-substitute need\nnot fear the beast's teeth. The issue seems then to be reduced to a\ntrial of sheer horsemanship.\"\n\n\"And in such a trial, most honored sir,\" replied the slave, \"I begin\nto have hopes. You should see the youth. The leading-reins are now\nloose. The muzzle is snatched away, and the contest has begun. Surely\nit seems one between a wild beast and a demigod.\"\n\n\"Is he thrown?\"\n\n\"No; yes; so help me! he is off, but is off standing.\"\n\n\"Explain; proceed--I tell you, proceed!\"\n\n\"The horse, after a series of violent plunges, suddenly reared till\nhe had nearly gained a perpendicular position upon his hind-legs,\nthe fore-feet pawing the air. The rider, who seemed to be as little\nliable to fall as though he had been part of the animal, then quickly\npassed his right foot out of the far _stapeda_, and dropping the\nbridle from his teeth, slipped down on the hither side. Hark! did you\nhear the crash with which the fore-paws have come down? The steed\nseemed to be very near falling backward, but after a struggle of two\nor three seconds, recovered himself; the centre of his weight had\nnot been carried rearward of the vertical line; and, O ye gods! just\nas you heard that ponderous thud with which he descended upon his\nfore-feet, the youth darted from the ground with a spring like his\nfirst, and he is now on the brute's back as before. He stoops to the\nhorse's neck; he has caught the bridle in his teeth, and lifts that\nbrave, clear face again. Listen to the multitude! Oh! how the _euge_,\n_euge_, thunders from a hundred thousand sympathetic voices!\"\n\n\"Ah my sight!\" cried the child Caligula.\n\n\"Ha! ha!\" continued Claudius, transported out of himself. \"I shall\nget my liberty to-day! Nor will my benefactor be injured. Ha! ha!\nThe fell beast of a horse seems astonished. How he writhes his back,\ncurving it like some monstrous catamount. And lo! now he leaps from\nthe ground with all four feet at the same time! I never saw the like,\nexcept in animals of the cervine tribe. Ha! ha! leap away! Yes, stoop\nthat ferocious-looking head, and shake it; and lash out with your\ndeath-dealing hoofs. Your master is upon you, in his chair of power,\nand you'll shake your head off before you dislodge him from it. It\nis not with the poor literary slave Claudius that you have to deal!\nOh! what a paroxysm of plunges. I was frightened for you, then, brave\nyoung knight; but there you sit yet, calm and clear-faced. If I was\nfrightened for you, you are not frightened for yourself.\"\n\n\"Oh! for a few minutes' sight!\" said the child. \"Has not the horse\ntried to twist his head round, and so to bring his teeth into play?\"\n\n\"Even now he tries,\" replied Claudius; \"but he is met on either side\nby the torch. The fiercest beast of the desert shrinks from fire.\nPrudent and fortunate device! Lo! the horse seems at last to have\nascertained that he who has this day mounted him is worthy of his\nservices; do you hear the tread of his hoofs, as he traces the circle\nof the arena, guided by those steady hands from which flames appear\nto flow. Faster and faster rushes the steed, always restrained and\nturned by the outer torch, which is brought near his head, while\nthe inner is held further to the rear. His sides are flecked with\nfoam. The pace grows too rapid for a short curve, and the steed is\nnow guided straight for the western opening in the arena opposite\nto where we sit; while the light breeze from the east counteracts\nthe current of air made by the animal's own career, and keeps the\nflare of those torches almost even. They are gone; and again hark!\nIs not that shout like the roar of waters on a storm-beaten shore,\nas a hundred thousand men proclaim the success of a generous and\nbrave youth, who could face the chance of being torn limb from limb\nin order to give to a poor slave like me, condemned to a frightful\ndeath, his life and his liberty, a home and a future?\"\n\n\"But surely,\" said the imperial child, \"it is not over so soon. It is\nlike a dream.\"\n\n\"I have tried to make you see what I saw,\" returned Claudius. \"It\nwas a wonderful struggle--the youth looked beautiful; and in the\nswift whirl, as you beheld the graceful and perfect rider, his hands\napparently streaming with flames, and his face so calm and clear,\nyou would have imagined that it was one of those beings whom the\npoets have feigned and sung, as having gifts superior to the gifts of\nordinary mortals, who was delivering some terror-stricken land from a\ndemon, from a cruel monster, and compelling ferocity, craft, uproar,\nand violence to bend to far higher forces, to man's cool courage and\nman's keen wit.\"\n\nAugustus, in his later years, showed a decreasing relish for the\nbloodier sports of the arena; and, in deference to his taste, the\nnext spectacles were, first a mere wrestling-match, and then a combat\nat the cestus, in which the effort was to display skill rather than\ninflict injury.\n\nThis contest was just over, and the sun, as if in wide-flowing\ngarments of red and golden clouds, had sunk level with the broad\nwestern opening of the amphitheatre, when the hum of voices was\nhushed once more, and Claudius was commanded in a whisper to resume\nhis task of rendering the scene upon which the child's bodily eyes\nwere temporarily closed, visible to his mind.\n\n\"I cannot with certainty discern,\" said the slave, \"what occurs;\nthere is such a vast heavenly shield of red light hanging opposite\nto us in the western sky. Against it, approaching at a walking pace\ntoward the gap in the arena, along that avenue of chestnut trees in\nthe country, I see a horseman. All eyes are turned in that direction.\nIt is _he_; it is Paulus Lepidus \u00c6milius, returning on the Sejan\nsteed; the animal is enveloped in sweat, and dust, and foam; and\nrather stoops the head which looked so fierce two hours ago; the\nrider has thrown away those torches, and now holds the reins low down\non either side, a little in front of the beast's shoulder. His hat is\ngone, and his brown locks, as you see them against the sun, are so\ntouched with the light that he seems to wear a head-gear of golden\nflames. Hark! again, as before, the people and the army shout to him.\nHe is bowing to them on each side; and now, as he advances, what do I\nsee?\"\n\nThe slave paused, and the child impatiently cried--\n\n\"How can I tell what you see, you dog? You are here for no other\npurpose than to tell _me_ that.\"\n\n\"He has streaks of blood upon his forehead,\" resumed Claudius.\n\n\"Oh! oh!\" cried the other; \"the branches of the trees have no doubt\nstruck him. Is he pale? Does he look faint? Is he going to fall off?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Claudius; \"he has reined in the horse, which stands like a\nhorse of stone in the middle of the arena. Tiberius and Germanicus\nhave both ridden toward him, with their retinues of mounted officers\nbehind them. They have halted some six yards from him. They are\nspeaking to him. As they speak, he bows his head and smiles. A crowd\nof people on foot have broken into the arena. The grooms have drawn\nnear, at a sign from Tiberius; they are cautiously approaching the\nSejan beast; but this last shows no restiveness. They have slipped\nthe muzzle round his nose, under the reins. The youth dismounts. I do\nnot see him now; he has become mixed with the crowd, I think; yes, it\nmust be so, for I miss him altogether.\"\n\nAugustus now rose, and his rising was taken by the multitude as a\nsignal that the entertainments of the amphitheatre for that evening\nhad closed.\n\nHalf an hour more and the scene was left to its solitude; and where\nthe cries and shouts of that mighty assemblage had mounted to the\nvery heavens, there was no sound left except the humming of the\ninsects and the rustling of the trees.\n\nThat night, in the large veranda or bower, which hung its arch of\nleaves and flowers over the landing of the Lady Aglais's apartments,\nat the Inn of the Hundredth Milestone, were assembled an exceedingly\nheterogeneous but mutually attached company, with every member\nof which the reader has made acquaintance. Paulus's mother, his\nyoung sister Agatha, Claudius, (no longer a slave, and now wearing\nthe _pileus_,) Crispina, with her daughter Benigna, the betrothed\nof this slave Claudius, Thellus the gladiator, and Dionysius the\nAthenian, were there, and they all heard Paulus relate a very strange\noccurrence, with which he made them acquainted in the following terms:\n\n\"Mother,\" said he, \"the most extraordinary incident connected with\nthis happy day remains to be told. I am sure that the great and\nmysterious Being who is expected by Dionysius here soon to descend\nupon earth, and to whom I offered my life, has protected me this day.\nHe has surely protected me, and has received with favor my endeavor\nto rescue from brutal power an oppressed and innocent young couple.\nThe most extraordinary incident connected with my undertaking, I\nsay, is not yet known to you. Last night I could not sleep soundly.\nAt last, long before daybreak, I rose, dressed myself, and, kneeling\ndown, besought that Being who is to appear among us to remember that\nI was trying to please him by this enterprise, and that I was acting\njust as Dionysius and I had concluded it would be agreeable to this\nbeneficent being. An inexpressible feeling of calmness and confidence\narose in my heart as I rose from my knees. I then took my hat and\nwent out of doors. I first strolled yonder, up and down that laurel\nwalk in the garden, and afterward sauntered into the fields and\nwandered pretty far, but I observed not whither. Presently I began to\nfeel that inclination to sleep which had deserted me in my bedroom;\nand, knowing the sun would soon rise, I chose a shady spot under a\nclump of trees, and, lying down, fell fast asleep immediately. _I\nhad no dream_, but was waked by feeling a hand upon my forehead.\nOpening my eyes, I beheld a woman, very aged and venerable, but\nwith a most beautiful countenance, despite her years, bending over\nme. Her countenance was solemn as the stars, and, I know not how,\nimpressed me like the face of the heavens at midnight, when the\nair is clear and calm. Her hair was not gray, but white--white as\nmilk. She wore a long, black mantle, the hood of which, like that\nof Agatha's _ricinium_, was brought over the head, but not further\nthan the middle of the head, so that I could see, when I rose to my\nfeet, (as I instantly did,) that her long flowing white locks were\nparted evenly and fell below the shoulder on each side. She held in\nher left hand a long staff, and her right was extended toward me as\nif bespeaking attention. She said to me in Greek these words: 'BY\nMEANS OF FIRE YOU CAN SUBDUE THE FEROCIOUS BEAST.' She then laid the\nhand which was stretched forth upon my head for a second, drew the\nhood further over her head, and departed with swift steps, leaving\nme to gaze after her in amazement--an amazement which increased when\nI perceived that her words could be applied to the Sejan horse. It\nwas those words, mother, and nothing else, which gave me the idea of\nemploying the torches, which my good Thellus here afterward prepared\nfor me out of some gladiatorial exercise-weapons which he possessed;\nand I may for certain say that, without the torches, I must have been\ndestroyed by that horrible brute.\"\n\n\"You truly describe this incident as extraordinary, my son,\" said the\nLady Aglais, after a pause.\n\n\"Paulus,\" said Dionysius, \"_you have seen the Sibyl_. You must\naccompany me in a few days to Cum\u00e6, where we will seek an interview\nwith her, upon the subject concerning which all the Sibyls sing and\nprophesy--the general reparation of this disorder-tortured world.\"\n\n    TO BE CONTINUED.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[194] It was some fifty years before, at the siege of Modena, that\nthe first recorded instance, so far as I am aware, occurred of making\nthe pigeon a letter-carrier.\n\n[195] I am aware of an apparent anachronism here of some four or five\nyears, according to Dio, Tacitus, Suetonius, and others; but Caligula\nwas, I think, a few years older than these authors represent; for\nJosephus furnishes a somewhat different calendar from theirs.\n\n\n\n\nTRANSLATED FROM LE CORRESPONDANT.\n\nMATTER AND SPIRIT IN THE LIGHT OF MODERN SCIENCE[196]\n\n\nThere is nothing more advantageous, and at the same time more\ndangerous; more beneficial to the cause of truth, and yet more apt to\ninduce error, than the modern idea of studying man in nature alone;\nor rather, of scrutinizing its depths with the design of discovering\nall that concerns him.\n\nDoubtless there were times when philosophy did not pay sufficient\nregard to the study of the physical sciences; when philosophers put\nthemselves too far outside the physical world. Metaphysics were too\nfull of abstractions, too much confined to the _me_ and consciousness.\n\nSome systems wished to dig an abyss between the world of matter and\nthat of spirit, regarding the passage from the one to the other as\nimpossible. Even the discoveries of Des Cartes in the realms of\nphysical nature, as well as in the kingdom of his own consciousness,\nnotwithstanding their importance and grandeur, only served to widen\nthe abyss; for the Cartesian theory supposed the mind to be incapable\nof communicating with the exterior world save by a chain frequently\nbroken--by a long and devious path. The _pre\u00ebstablished harmony_ of\nLeibnitz was the last term of the separation of these two worlds,\nwhich had no longer any thing in common even in their agreement, and\nonly existed in juxtaposition without mutual action or reciprocal\ninfluence.\n\nThis was an excess of which metaphysics was at the same time the\nauthor and the victim; it deprived itself of a powerful element of\ninvestigation; it veiled one of the faces of nature; and closed\nthe door to research and knowledge in one of the great domains of\nthe world. Metaphysicians, in striving to obtain the exclusive and\nvictorious reign of spirit, compromised its triumph.\n\nDoubtless that which at the same time unites and separates the\nintellectual from the material world will never be perfectly\nunderstood. But it will always be necessary to throw light on both\nsides of the problem by comparing them without confounding them;\nto place both face to face without partiality or exclusion; the\nworking of thought and of matter, and between the two the mysterious\nphenomenon of life which is their connecting link and term of\nsimilitude.\n\nIt could not be expected that philosophy should first and alone\nprepare the ground of this conciliation and comparison. The\npeculiarly speculative studies of metaphysicians would not naturally\ncarry them to this point; and besides, the very elements necessary\nfor this comparison were wanting to them.\n\nIt is, therefore, to the natural sciences, as they are called,\nthat we must owe the most of our knowledge and comprehension\nof the two worlds, which co-penetrate each other. Not that the\nsciences have preconceived the thought of this result, and formed\na plan on the subject; for the science of the day, especially that\nwhich really deserves the name, has confined itself generally to\nimpartial discoveries, and for premise and conclusion has taken\nmerely the facts themselves. Notwithstanding evil examples, which\nwould persuade a different course, it still perseveres, and on this\naccount it deserves praise in its isolated labors and exclusive\nstudies. It would not be difficult to cite the names of some of the\nmost distinguished _savants_, who, impartially and without being\npreoccupied with conclusions, have enriched the domain of truth with\nmost important and curious discoveries. But the occupation of the\n_savant_, which is not without merit and trouble, cannot satisfy\nmankind.\n\nBy a natural instinct man feels the want of synthesis; he is not\ncontent with mere phenomena. He wants to go further than analysis;\nhe longs to generalize and draw consequences. He wishes to profit by\npast labor; he wants to know not only results but causes.\n\nHere philosophy must again be called in to judge of and compare\nfacts, to deduce consequences from, and erect systems upon them. If\nthe spiritualist philosophers, quitting abstractions and leaving\nthe solitude of consciousness, have by an enlightened change, which\nwill be serviceable both to truth and to their own cause, begun to\ndig deeply into the scientific mine which is so rich and productive;\non the other hand, the positivists and materialists, forced by the\nnatural inclination of the human mind to draw conclusions and build\ntheories, even after proclaiming the sovereign reign of matter, and\nafter trying to remain in it alone; after attributing to it every\nproperty and every function; after making it the absolute foundation\nof their doctrine and teaching, have here admitted that an inferior\nsupposes a superior order; there accepted final causes; elsewhere\ninvoked the ideal or spoken of truths which are eternal; and in their\ndesire to explain the phenomena of matter or the forms of life, they\nhave been compelled to leave the region of purely material facts\nand to ascend to those metaphysical ideas which in theory they so\nstrenuously reject.[197]\n\nBut although the human mind, placed in presence of problems, goes\nfaster and further than science, yet it cannot do without its aid; it\nrightly seeks its assistance, and finds in it one of its most solid\nand safe foundations.\n\nWe have, therefore, deemed it interesting to indicate at what point\nthe labors of the physicists have arrived, even by exhibiting their\npremature solutions. We think it useful to examine some of their\nconclusions, which have been deduced rather precipitately perhaps,\nbut which, while treating only of bodies, concern more or less\ndirectly the sovereign questions of the soul and of the intelligence.\n\nWe must say that, in consequence of so many deep researches and\nfruitful experiments, the empire of the natural sciences has been\nso vastly extended that nothing in the future seems impossible of\nattainment, while most unexpected results, intoxicating, as it\nwere, and turning the heads of _savants_, have seemed to furnish a\njustification of their defence of even the most rash and surprising\ntheories.\n\nThere has been a regeneration of ideas regarding the material world;\nanalysis has probed to its lowest depths and let in the light of\nday. Men think they have discovered its mode of action and arrived at\nits very elements.\n\nTwo leading theories have been produced, both of which pretend to be\nbased on the most minute verification of details and the most recent\nfacts. If they are not absolutely irreconcilable, they present at\nleast very different formulas.\n\nThe one affirms that there is nothing in matter except movement.\n\nThe other declares that there is nothing in matter but forces.\n\n\nI.\n\nThe system which reduces every thing in matter to movements is as\nsimple as it is curious. It exhibits at the same time a character of\ngrandeur and of unity which is seductive. Matter in the universe, it\nsays,[198] remains the same in quantity; it is neither created nor\ndestroyed; its phenomena are merely transformations.\n\nAccording to this system, the _abstract notion of force_ does not\nexist. Force is a cause of motion; and the cause of motion is a\nmotion itself. Physical phenomena, as heat, light, electricity, and\nmagnetism, are certain kinds of motion, which beget each other.\nHeat is transformed into electricity and electricity into light.\nTransformations take place according to fixed rules, and are reduced\nto rigorously determined unities.\n\nIn another order of facts, cohesion, chemical affinity, and gravity,\nare equally the effects of communication of motion, since the\nphenomena which derive from them exist only by attraction--that is\nto say, by the movement of molecules and bodies toward each other.\n\nThe same rule holds good in the system of the universe; the heavenly\nas well as the terrestrial bodies have not in themselves that which\nattracts them to each other. Universal gravitation is only the\nexpression of a result; it merely means that every thing happens as\nif bodies had the intrinsic property of attracting each other in\nthe direct ratio of their quantity and the inverse ratio of their\ndistance.\n\nIt is not this force or property; it is the ether which is the cause\nof attraction. The ether is composed of atoms which collide with each\nother and with neighboring bodies. It is everywhere diffused, forming\na universal medium, and exercising a continual pressure on all the\nmolecules in nature. The gravity of bodies is owing to the pressure\nof this medium. Their movement is, as it were, a transformation of\nthe motions of ether. Thus, the ether, moving in every direction, and\nobeying no fixed pressure, produces material attraction without being\nsubject to it; it gives to bodies their gravity, while it remains\nitself imponderable.[199]\n\nIt had been already physically demonstrated that sound and light\nwere the result of undulations--that is, of motions; sonorous and\nluminous movements which have been measured and verified in all their\nmodes. The nature of caloric movement has not yet been so completely\nunderstood; but the mechanical effects of heat have been established\nin the most precise manner. The identity of heat and of mechanical\nlabor has become a commonly received idea for several years past.\nHeat, which was formerly regarded as a material substance, is now\nconsidered as a mere mode of motion; it is by their repercussion\nthat the molecules of bodies cause us to experience the sensation of\nheat; and the intensity of these repercussions determines the degrees\nof temperature. This heat, manifesting itself by different effects,\nproduces now light or sounds, again mechanical labor.\n\nThe energy or the living force which molecules or bodies in motion\npossess, in a degree exactly known, is partially lost if these\nmolecules produce a work, that is to say, if they displace a quantity\nof matter; but in that case the living force which they lose is\nstored up in the labor produced, and is reborn when the latter ceases\nto exist.\n\nJust as the calorific and luminous fluids are no longer regarded as\npossessing a special substance and existence, so also the electric\nfluid, positive as well as negative, and the magnetic fluid, which is\nonly one of its derivatives, are but opposite movements of matter.\nThe electrical movement of imponderable matter, or ether, is not even\na vibratory motion; it is a real current, a real transport which\ntakes place in the conducting body; and it is so far of the same\nnature as the luminous motion that it has approximately the same\nvelocity--that is to say, it travels seventy-five thousand leagues a\nsecond.\n\nNow, all these motions of heat, all these motions of light and\nelectricity, which correlative phenomena offer, are all reducible to\nthe idea of mechanical labor. Produced by one labor, they reproduce\nanother. Thus disappear from chemistry, as from the natural sciences,\nthe forces called repulsive as well as those called attractive. The\nmolecules no longer act at a distance; actions take place by contact,\nby the communication of movements. In the same way the pressure\nexercised by the ethereal atoms on the molecules of the sidereal\nbodies takes the place of the initial force or acquired velocity\nwhich astronomy regarded as the cause of their movements.\n\nAccording to this sovereign unity, the physical world is composed\nof one single element. There are no simple bodies. Oxygen and\nhydrogen, like gold or platina, are composed only of atoms. There is\nno difference in material quality; properties vary according to the\ndiversity of movements. Becoming grouped and interwoven, the atoms\nform the molecules, and the changes of these movements constitute for\nus the different phenomena, the mode of which depends on the masses\nand the velocities which are in play.\n\nConsequently, ethereal atoms, elementary molecules, compound\nor chemical molecules, particles of gaseous bodies, liquids,\nsolids--such is the hierarchy of phenomena.\n\nThe system is triumphantly epitomized in these words:\n\nAtoms and motion form the universe.\n\nLet us pause before this conclusion, the simplicity of which is not\nwithout grandeur, although the theory is absolute and hasty. Let us\nbe allowed to interfere in the name of the notion of causality, in\nthe name of that metaphysics to which the system itself, although\ntaking its starting-point from facts alone, renders homage by\nits generalizations and by its synthesis. If it confined itself\nexclusively to its conclusion, that atom and movement form the\nsupreme axiom of the universe, we should have downright materialism.\nThe author avoids this absolute conclusion, which would cause us,\nmoreover, to go outside the limits of scientific research, and he\nadmits that even in motion there are original causes which remain\nentirely unknown.\n\nBut this cannot suffice. Our mind sees this reserve and will not rest\nsatisfied with it.\n\nIf the system merely gives to ethereal atoms the intrinsic force and\nprimitive motion which it takes away from the molecules and bodies,\nit only postpones the difficulty and avoids the true solution. It\nmerely admits an effect without assigning to it an origin or a reason\nof being. It does not indicate the primary cause of motion; it does\nnot make known the prime mover, which neither facts nor reason can\nplace in the atoms or in the phenomena.\n\nNor can the formation of worlds be explained by atoms and motion.\nThe author[200] gives up facts, reality, and the logic of his own\nsystem when he supposes some of the chief primitive atoms forming the\ncentre of a group for several others, and thus constituting a sphere.\nThen, after this operation in the universal mass, the molecular\ngroups appear gifted with gravity and enter into that evolution which\nconstitutes the admirable order of the universe.\n\nWe have no longer modern science arriving, by way of decomposition\nand analysis, at results as curious as they are incontestable. It is,\nin truth, but the renewal of an old system which goes as far back\nas ancient philosophy--to Leucippus, to Democritus, to Epicurus;\na system without foundation or reality, which brings us to gross\nmaterialism, and gives us no rational or experimental explanation of\nphenomena.\n\nFor whence have these atoms come? Do you give them their reason of\nbeing by simply calling them primitive? Do they exist from all\neternity, or have they created themselves? After being proclaimed\nindivisible points, they are, contrary to this principle of unity,\nmade unequal and preponderating. Whence do they derive these\ncontradictory, and at the same time indispensable characters, which\nenable them to perform their functions? Who has given them the first\nmotion necessary for their meeting? Or, if they have been eternally\nin motion, does it not follow that the formations that are attributed\nto them must be also eternal? What causes them to produce ponderable\nmolecules and to become heavy bodies while they are essentially\nimponderable and devoid of attraction?\n\nAs for us, a friend of truth, and believing that it can never be\nopposed to itself, having in its regard no fear or party prejudice,\nwe are disposed to accept willingly the results given by scientific\nobservation and experience, provided there be no disposition to draw\nconclusions from them which are not legitimate. We are far from\ndisputing that matter is one in its grand simplicity, and that it\nis reducible to elements of one species; that phenomena of a single\norder, motion, produce all the effects of nature which we admire. The\nspiritualist philosophy will readily find in these atoms their first\nauthor, God, and in these movements God, the prime mover.\n\nWe also admit willingly that this theory holds good even in the\ndomain of organized matter, and that, in the regular order of\nsuccession, it runs through all the kingdoms. We see nothing in this\nadmission which contradicts directly our belief.\n\nIn fact, the system extends even to the order of living nature, and\nthere it points out two things.\n\nOn the one hand, it indicates, as the basis and chief constituent\nof living beings, the very materials of the inorganic world, the\nsolid bodies, liquids, gases, which we find in all organizations, and\nespecially in the human organization, the most complex of all; for\nthis organization comprises fourteen of those elements which we call\nsimple bodies, because we have not been able as yet to reduce them.\n\nOn the other hand, in animated nature itself there takes place a\nseries of motions which succeed each other according to a determined\norder, with an especial character, yet not opposed to the laws of\nmolecular mechanism; so that in the human body in motion heat is\ntransformed into work and work into heat, according to the ordinary\nrelation of calorics, and the human mover gives in labor the same\nproportion of heat produced as the other movers.[201]\n\nDoes this mean, continues the author of the system, that we have in\nthis process all the elements of life? What is the cause which forms\nthe first cell, the basis of living bodies? What deduces from it the\ndevelopments of being? What limits and regulates its evolution? \"Here\nwe must suspend our judgment, or admit a special cause, the principle\nof which is peculiar to vital phenomena.\"\n\nThis cause, although its nature is unknown and undetermined, is\nmanifested by movements, and may take, according to the same order\nof ideas, the _r\u00f4le_ and name of vital force. This force is endowed\nwith a peculiar activity, which transforms without creating, just as\nmotion only transforms in virtue of anterior movements.\n\nThis doctrine, pushed to extremity, seems to infer that the phenomena\nof thought and volition are only pure movements, the result of\nphysical or vital actions. But is not the human soul, the animating\nprinciple, thereby put in danger?\n\nThe author thinks not. \"In the midst of material transformations,\"\nsays he, \"causes active by nature may intervene, and we have\ninstanced some of them, in marking the nature and limits of such\nintervention. This is sufficient to leave the ground free to all the\nsolutions of metaphysics.\"\n\nWe are more affirmative and precise. These causes, from the\nstarting-point of the atom and movement, necessarily exist and act.\nIn fact, if the atom and movement are the universe, outside the\nuniverse there must be and there is something superior to the atom\nand to motion--that which has given them birth; for we cannot suppose\nthat the atom exists by itself, nor that motion is produced by\nitself. All that we see and conceive about atom and motion only gives\nus phenomenal relations and contingent results. Beyond this is the\nabsolute. The observations and relations which experience offers us\nmay be fruitful enough to render an account of the facts, to extend\nand enlighten our knowledge, to establish laws and attest actions.\nBut let us not grow tired in repeating that these actions are not\nproduced alone, and that these laws suppose an ordainer.\n\nEspecially when we endeavor to understand the nature of life, atoms\nand movement may come again into play; but the cause increases and\nis detached from the functions of beings; and the superiority of the\neffects more imperiously establishes the necessity of an author.\n\n\nII.\n\nThe second theory admits only forces in nature, and places in these\nforces the principle of all that is produced. It also goes up to the\natom, and considers it as equally indivisible and imponderable. It\nattributes to matter properties, so to speak, immanent which give it\nits power and action. Atoms, separated from each other in the bodies\nwhich they compose, and forming mere simple mathematical points,\npossess, when they are reunited in mass, a force of attraction which\nacts at a distance, and then reacts on them in order to produce all\nthe sensible phenomena.\n\nSeveral _savants_ and certain spiritualist philosophers agree on\nthis theory. Both take facts as the starting point in establishing\ntheir synthesis; the former build it on a foundation more\nexclusively physical; the latter give to their generalization a more\nphilosophical basis.\n\nM. Magy and M. Laugel, hardly overstepping the limits of the\nexperimental world, follow the action of forces into their different\nmodes and transformations.\n\nM. Paul Janet, in his turn, delivers his theory on matter.[202]\n\n    \"It is in fact,\" he writes, \"force and not extent which\n    constitutes the essence of bodies; an atom in motion occupies\n    successively places which it fits exactly. What distinguishes\n    this atom from the space previously occupied by it? It is not\n    the extent, since in both cases the shape is the same; every\n    thing which relates to extent is absolutely identical in the\n    empty and in the full atom. It is, therefore, something else\n    which distinguishes them, and this something is solidity or\n    weight; but neither solidity nor weight is a modification of\n    extent; both are derived from force, and represent it.\"\n\nM. Ch. L\u00e9v\u00eaque adds:[203]\n\n    \"How do we make the extension which we need? Always by\n    resistance; when extension is not a pure abstraction, when\n    it is real and concrete, it is always equivalent to a sum of\n    resisting points or forces. There is no longer occasion to ask\n    how, with unextended elements, we may form extension. There is\n    but one question possible, and it is this: How to form a sum of\n    resistance with resisting points?\"\n\nThis is what a learned Englishman, P. Bayma, establishes with\nprecision.[204] According to him, the elements, or atoms, are\nindivisible points without material extent, and extension is not an\nessential property of matter.\n\n    \"The extension of bodies is an appearance caused by the\n    dissemination in space of the elements which compose them;\n    abstract space is extension; consequently the science of\n    extension, or geometry, is not a science of observation but of\n    abstraction.\"\n\nAccording to this theory, the forces placed from the beginning in\nelements govern every thing in the world. Nature is under their\ncontrol; matter obeys them, or is, rather, entirely a compound\nof forces. One of the partisans of this system[205] lays down\nthese conclusions: 1st, the last element of matter is always an\nactive, simple, and indivisible force like the soul itself; 2d,\nthe properties of matter are only manifestations of this simple\nactive force. Then, pushing the consequences of this notion of force\nfurther, he admits\n\n    \"that there is only one substance, material and spiritual,\n    at the same time; spiritual in its elements, material in its\n    composition. The soul, conscious of its personal energy,\n    conceives physical beings as forces acting like itself.\"\n\nA contemporary philosopher,[206] developing further the thesis of\nconciliation and relation between the two orders of existence, adds:\n\n    \"Matter has at bottom no other substantial element than spirit.\n    The essence of both is active force, consequently materialism\n    has no reason to exist; there is no longer in nature any thing\n    but spiritualism, or, to speak more correctly, dynamism. This\n    dynamism has nothing which attacks the dignity and pre\u00ebminence\n    of the soul. The soul alone is capable of thinking or willing,\n    because it alone is a simple force, whereas the smallest body\n    is a compound of simple forces.\"\n\nSuch are the theories which, according to their supporters, are\nsustained by the most recent discoveries of science.\n\nAs for us, we admit that from a scientific stand-point there have\nbeen many new and curious observations collected; that the analysis\nof matter has exposed to view the most astonishing phenomena;\nthat the material element has been almost apprehended, its depths\ninvestigated; that it has been stripped of extension as an essential\nproperty, its mode of action and constituting principle discovered;\nthat it has been reduced to a unity as sovereign as it is marvellous;\nand we follow with the most lively interest these results of\ndisinterested and impartial science. We go further; according as the\nplan gains in unity and grandeur, appearing at the same time more\nimposing and probable, it brings us nearer to Him who has conceived\nit, who has given it order and completion. The more of mystery we\ndiscover in the universe, the more we bow with admiration, but\nwithout astonishment, before the thought and will of the Sovereign\nwho is the origin and reason of the existence of these wonders and of\ntheir laws.\n\nBut our reason cannot go beyond its limits, and the metaphysical\nconsequences which some have attempted to draw from these phenomena,\nwe have not up to the present been able to admit.\n\nThe theory which reduces all to force, which recognizes in bodies\nan intrinsic mode of acting, whether it divide these forces in the\nmass of matter, or cause them to mount up to the primitive element,\nto the atom, indivisible point, or monad, seems to us in every case\nto beg the question. What is in fact a force, and especially a force\nattributed to any object? It is undoubtedly neither a being, since it\nis joined to a first element, nor a substance, since it is considered\nas an attribute. It is only a manner of indicating an action, the\ncause of which is unknown. To say that matter acts because it bears\nin it the power of acting, is simply to say that it acts because it\nacts; to reply by asserting the fact itself which is in question.\nTherefore we have only one of those words, new or old, which may\ncause illusion for an instant, but which do not stand a serious\nanalysis.\n\nMoreover, to attempt to compare and assimilate matter and spirit\nby giving to both the name of force, and attributing to them the\nproperties attached to this name, is merely to use a word without a\ndefinite meaning; for if they were both forces, they would be forces\nof entirely different, if not opposite action. And if we say that\nforce, being half body and half spirit, is the link which unites them\nto each other, we create, merely to suit our purpose, a third being\nwhich is discovered nowhere, a mere phantasmagoria without reality,\nwhich the imagination itself is incapable of representing to us.\n\nFinally, in the parallel and assimilation between body and soul,\nto reserve, with the power of thinking, pre\u00ebminence to the mind\nbecause it is a simple and unique force, while the smallest body is a\ncompound of these same simple forces, amounts to saying that a body\ncould think if it were only decomposed and reduced to its simple\nelements, and to the unity of force. There is such a difference in\nact, mode, and aim between what is called the force of resistance,\nattributed to bodies, and designated, we know not why, by the name\nof active force, and between the faculty of thinking, that no common\nappellation, no matter how specious it may be, can ever confound or\nidentify them.\n\nWe would not be able to comprehend how the soul, considered as a\nmonad or simple element, should have by this fact the faculty of\nthinking, and yet two or several monads united and forming a body\nwould not possess the same power. Why, in the latter case, should\nthere be absence of thought instead of a union of two or several\nthoughts, concordant or contrary? How could we say that, because\nthere is an assemblage of forces, there is an impossibility of\nthinking, and that the part is capable of doing what the whole\ncannot do? It is useless to choose and isolate the most delicate\nand ethereal element in a body; we can never imagine the soul to be\nreally one of its parts, no matter how pure that part may be.\n\nThe notion of force, for the soul as well as for the body, must be\nput among those appellations which explain nothing, and only serve to\ncloak our ignorance.\n\nScience itself begins to renounce this name of force; and the first\ntheory which we have exposed, that which recognizes only motions in\nmatter combats the theory of forces with energy, and considers it as\nvain and illusory. It is not here, consequently, that we shall find\nthe philosophical explanation of phenomena, nor the reconciliation\nbetween the two orders of spirit and matter.\n\nThe theory of motions rests on a more solid foundation; at least,\nit employs a word having a precise signification and resting on a\nreal fact, motion. It is only by induction and reasoning that it\nascends to ether and the atom. It has never seen either of them,\nalthough it affirms their existence. It makes a synthesis. It admits\nin the universe something else besides atoms and movement, since the\nthought which it expresses implies the idea of being, of substance\nand cause. It has seen motions, vibrations, radiations, currents,\nand it has concluded from them that there is something which moves,\nvibrates, radiates; thus it has mounted up to a second cause, to\nether, to the atom. But this is not sufficient. If it has seen that\nthere is no motion without an object which moves, logic compels it\nto acknowledge that there is no change without an agent, no movement\nwithout a mover; and if the atom exists and moves, this atom also has\nan origin, a reason of being, a principle from which it has received\nthe gift of existence and the power of motion.\n\nIf an admirable plan embraces the universe, if a sovereign unity\ndirects and governs all phenomena, there must be a cause for them.\nThe plan appears more manifestly, and the cause shows itself more\nnecessarily in the very simplicity of the work, in its grandeur in\nthis double quality raised to a higher power.\n\nIf the world be, as it is acknowledged to be, the work of thought; if\na general and supreme reason presides over the universe, this thought\nlives in a spirit, this reason belongs to a soul.[207] Can there be\na thought without a thinking subject and being? A thought implies a\nthinking being; reason means a living intelligence; or it must mean\nnothing, and then there is no sense in words, no reality in things.\n\nIt is useless to object; the human mind will have it so; it is the\nlaw of its conscience, it is the result of its profound conviction\nthat it does not derive all from itself, and that nothing can produce\nnothing.\n\nNow, can we say of the atom and motion combined, behold the universe?\nYes, the mechanical universe, perhaps. But the mechanical universe\nis not self-sufficing; for we can always say, Who has made the atom?\nwho has created motion? And then we have the right to propose another\naffirmation and to conclude: the notion of causality is the entire\nworld--the physical, intellectual, and moral world.\n\nThis has been true from the very beginning of thought and the\ncommencement of human reason. This has been true from the days of\nancient philosophy, proclaiming through its greatest logician that\nwhatever is in the effect ought to be found in the cause, that the\ncause must really exist before the effect, and that the perfection\nof all effects supposes the existence of a primary cause which\ncontains them--a living, spiritual, and perfect cause, which cannot\nbe produced by what is imperfect, inferior, material, or deprived of\nlife, but which is and must be necessarily its generating principle\nand producing power.\n\n\nIII.\n\nThus the two systems of motions and of forces, brought before the\nmetaphysical world, for they call themselves syntheses, fall short\nof the mark and do not reach the true principle. The one assigns\nno cause for the elements and phenomena which it represents. The\nother attributes to these same elements and phenomena, a word and\na name which cannot be a cause. The former does not give, and does\nnot pretend to give, a real explanation. The latter formulates an\nexplanation, but presents nothing satisfactory.\n\nIt appears, however, that all the tendencies of modern science\nare toward the idea of unity in the universal system, toward a\nsimplification and spiritualization in the plan; and the belief of\nsome goes so far as to admit that this plan offers parallel lines\nmore or less similar in both the material and the spiritual world.\nBut here again the rock rises and the danger appears. In making\nbodies so like spirits, we run the risk of making the spiritual\ntoo much like the material, and, in both cases, by such confusion\nwe almost touch on pantheism, the theory of which, consisting in\nthe admission of but one substance, is equally dangerous whether\nthis one substance be material or spiritual. We will allow matter,\ntherefore, to raise itself toward unity, purify itself more and more,\nand disentangle its essence from its innumerable and marvellous\ncombinations, provided that it be admitted that it possesses a real\nexistence, that it is really matter, that it can never become spirit\nor thought, and that it is not its own force or cause or reason\nof being. What would be gained for it from a spiritualist point\nof view, to admit in matter an immediate power, to clothe it with\nintrinsic qualities which nothing either in ideas or facts manifests\nor demonstrates? No problem would be solved thereby, no mystery\ncleared up; it would be necessary to establish why and how the same\nsubstance, at the same time and alternately, feels and does not\nfeel, wills and is inert, thinks and is devoid of intelligence, is\nimmovable in the stone, awakes in the plant, and is organic in the\nanimal, and finally creates and vivifies the genius of man.\n\nThere must be logic in the assertion that the essence of matter is\nfound in an atom or in a force, that it is inactive or endowed with\nmovement, that there is in bodies unity or variety of substance,\nthat the different kingdoms are united by greater affinities or\nseparated by more marked distinctions; these properties, comparisons,\nand differences must have their logic and their reason of being,\nand do not derive the laws which govern them from a spontaneous or\nfortuitous formation.\n\nNothing, consequently, in the secondary explanations which are given\nto us, can satisfy our metaphysical wants. The mind of man will never\nstop at the mere properties of things or their effects. Its instinct\nof causality does not accept incomplete theories and theses which\ndo not sound the depths. Casting aside all idea of confusion and of\ninexact comparison, the human mind wishes to rise higher; it wishes,\nin its admiration for order and the harmony of phenomena, to ascend\nto the very summit of being. Yes, it admits and recognizes the fact\nthat every thing which exists has a single and sovereign cause, and\nthis cause is itself the most spiritual of spiritual substances--God\nthe creator and ordainer of worlds. Author of all things, God causes\nwith the qualities which belong to him the different manifestations\nof nature; he acts on matter, possesses it, causes it to subsist,\ngives it the power of producing its phenomena, is its force, its\norder, its law; and thus, if we may say so, he animates the world,\nnot indeed in the same manner as the human soul animates the body,\nbecause we cannot compare essences and actions so unlike each other,\nbut with a certain superior and divine power of animation which\nproduces the being, motion, and life of all that exists in the\nuniverse, moves or breathes, as the soul is the source and focus of\nthe life of the body.\n\nTo destroy this supreme cause is to degrade at the same time the\nmaterial and the intellectual world; it is to renounce the notion of\nperfection and of the absolute; it is to condemn, together with one\nof the mother-ideas, one of the axioms of the human mind, that logic\nwhich can never see aught complete or satisfactory in mere effects\nor phenomena; it is to attack one of the most beautiful faculties of\nthe intelligence, of that intelligence which the contingent cannot\ncontent, which will not allow itself to be restrained by the mere\nlimits of time and space, which, from the present which it studies,\nfrom facts which it investigates, and peculiarities which it admires,\nascends to the infinite, to the all-powerful, to the Eternal.\n\nThus we consider that the most recent discoveries of science, in\ntheir rational and superior interpretation, lead us naturally to God,\nand we have at the same time the belief and the hope that materialism\nwill be involuntarily stricken down, and will perish perhaps by the\nvery hands of those who study and search after matter alone.\n\nNo doubt the considerations which might be actually drawn from the\nresults obtained do not lead to definite theories nor do they offer\nany thing but premature conclusions. The majority of the _savants_,\nmoreover, properly refuse to touch on the domain of the supernatural\nand metaphysical; they confine themselves to facts; some so veil\ntheir opinions and philosophical doctrines as even to cause us\nto doubt whether they follow the standard of spiritualism or of\nmaterialism. They do not arrogate to themselves either the right or\nthe power of drawing conclusions; and the synthesis which results\nfrom their experiments can only be a premature conjecture, more or\nless plausible.\n\nBut since their researches already give occasion to perceptions so\nsimple and so grand, since they open horizons in the distance where\nlight certainly exists, since there is from the stand-point of truth\na serene and unalterable confidence in the final and definite results\nof modern discoveries, we may be permitted even now to describe\nthem for the elevation and the encouragement of the mind, for the\njustification and the honor of human science, for the revindication\nof the grandeur and of the glory of God.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[196] _La Physique Moderne. Essai sur l'Unit\u00e9 des Ph\u00e9nom\u00e8nes\nNaturels._ Par Emile Saigey. Paris: Germer-Bailli\u00e8re. 1867.\n\n_Les Probl\u00e8mes de la Nature--les Probl\u00e8mes de la Vie._ Par Laugel.\nParis. 1867.\n\n_De la Science et de la Nature. Essai de Philosophie premi\u00e8re._ Par\nMagy. 1867.\n\n_El\u00e9ments de M\u00e9canique Mol\u00e9culaire._ Par le P. Bayma.\n\n_Physique Mol\u00e9culaire._ Par l'Abb\u00e9 Moigno. 1868.\n\n_Revue des Deux Mondes: la Nature et la Physiologie id\u00e9aliste._ Par\nCh. L\u00e9v\u00eaque. 15 Janvier, 1857.\n\n_Le Spiritualisme Fran\u00e7ais au dix neuvi\u00e8me si\u00e8cle._ Par P. Janet. 15\nMai, 1868.\n\n[197] See for further details: _Recueil des Rapports sur les Progr\u00e8s\ndes Lettres et des Sciences; la Philosophie en France au dix-neuvi\u00e8me\nsi\u00e8cle_. Par Felix Ravaisson. _Revue des Cours Litt\u00e9raires_, No. 24;\nart. by M. E. Beaussire.\n\n[198] This system has been formulated with great talent by M. Emile\nSaigey, who advocated it, first in several very remarkable articles\nin the _Revue des Deux Mondes_; and afterward in his book, _La\nPhysique Moderne. Essai sur l'Unit\u00e9 des Ph\u00e9nom\u00e8nes Naturels_.\n\n[199] The swiftness of molecules and the vibratory motion of ethereal\natoms are astonishing, and surpass all imagination. The former,\nmeasuring two thousand metres, give eight millions of collisions in a\nsecond; while the latter, within the same space, produce every second\nseveral hundreds of millions more of undulations.\n\n[200] M. Saigey.\n\n[201] According to the very curious experiments of M. Hirn, the\nunity of heat or caloric in man, as well as in inorganic matter,\ncorresponds to four hundred and twenty-five unities of mechanical\nlabor--that is to say, to four hundred and twenty-five kilogrammes\nraised one metre high. Man gives in work twelve per cent of the heat\nproduced, which is almost equal to the labor of our most perfect\nmachines.\n\n[202] _Revue des Deux Mondes_, 15 Mai, 1863.\n\n[203] _Ibid._ 15 Janvier, 1867.\n\n[204] _Elements de M\u00e9canique Mol\u00e9culaire._\n\n[205] M. Magy, _De la Science_, etc.\n\n[206] Ch. L\u00e9v\u00eaque, _Revue des Deux Mondes_, 15 Janvier, 1867.\n\n[207] Ch. L\u00e9v\u00eaque, _Revue des Deux Mondes_, 15 Janvier, 1867.\n\n\n\n\nNAZARETH.\n\n\nAfter a residence of two months in the holy city of Jerusalem, the\nwriter of this sketch left the shrines of the Cross and the Tomb\nto visit the sacred localities of Palestine. Going northward, and\npassing by Jacob's well and Samaria, our party came to Jenin, on\nthe borders of the plain of Esdr\u00e6lon, where we encamped for the\nnight; and on the next day, which was Thursday, April 5th, 1866,\nwent to Jezreel, to the great fountain which springs from the base\nof the mountain of Gilboa, on which Saul and Jonathan were slain;\nthen passed through Nain, where our Lord raised the widow's son, and\nEndor. Leaving Mount Thabor on our right, we came to the foot of the\nsteep hill on the other side of which is Nazareth. After a wearisome\nascent, in the middle of the afternoon, we saw the city of the\nannunciation at our feet.\n\nNazareth is in a valley about one mile long, running east and west,\nand only a quarter of a mile wide. Fifteen hills inclose this small\nspace. The whole of this valley, not occupied by the houses, is\nfilled with gardens, corn-fields, and small groves of olive and\nfig-trees. The houses are irregularly placed, and are evidently more\ncomfortable than many others in the Holy Land. Being all constructed\nof white stone, they have a substantial appearance. But the streets\ncannot be praised. Irregular in their course, they are the filthiest\nwe had anywhere seen. This wretched condition of the streets is the\nmore noticeable because the people are superior to other dwellers\nin the land, and apparently more intelligent, well-fed, and housed.\nSeveral buildings were in the course of erection; and it seemed that\nthe village was prospering. The houses stand on the lower slope of\na hill about four hundred feet high, and on the adjacent ridges.\nAbout four thousand people make up the population, all Christians\nexcept seven hundred Mohammedans. Of the Christians, the schismatic\nGreeks number about one thousand, and the Roman Catholics and Greek\nCatholics have each about five hundred persons. There is an air of\nindependence and relative comfort about all the people here which\ncontrasts with the sad and desponding manners of the residents in\nother eastern places. Wherever Turks rule, cheerfulness is unknown.\n\nOn entering Nazareth, we rode to the further end of the village, and\nencamped in a pleasant spot quite near the fountain of the Virgin,\na place to which all travellers who remain in their tents resort, as\nit is usual to encamp in the vicinity of water. Besides this, the\nfountain is the best place to see the people of the village, it being\nthe common place of resort, especially for women. This spring is the\nonly one in the place; and for that reason it has many visitors.\nFrom early dawn until late in the afternoon, women of every age come\nhere with jars or pitchers on their heads or shoulders. The streams\nof water are not copious, and there is often delay in obtaining the\nsupply, especially in seasons of drought. While waiting here to\nfill their jars, the women gossip and chat, and thus each one hears\nthe news of the day. Women of every rank go to the fountain for\nwater--partly that they may not appear to be above their neighbors,\nand partly, it may be surmised, to hear what is going on. Little\ngirls are trained to carry the water-jar on the head--for them, of\ncourse, the jar is small--and every person has a small pad or cushion\non her head to support the jar and prevent injury. From this habit\nof so bearing these jars, all the women of Nazareth are straight\nand erect in their carriage, and have much grace and dignity of\nmotion. Not only are they finely formed, but their faces are the\nmost beautiful in Palestine; and there is a pleasing tradition that\nthe Blessed Virgin Mary left the gift of beauty to the women of\nher city. Their dress is also graceful, consisting of large, short\ntrowsers, a close-fitting jacket, and a long white veil which does\nnot cover the face. For ornament they use a string of silver and\ngold coins around the head and chin, many of which are very heavy\nand valuable--uncomfortable decorations at the best, but showing the\ndowry of the wearer.\n\nI thought that the water of the fountain of Nazareth was the best I\nhad ever tasted; perhaps this was fancy, but certainly the water is\nmost pure and excellent, and is renowned for those qualities. To this\nfountain, without doubt, the Blessed Virgin came hundreds of times,\nbeing trained like other children to bear the water-jar from early\nyears. Here she talked with her neighbors, and lived in a manner\nundistinguished from other poor girls. And whoever will go to-day\nto that fountain in Nazareth, or to the one near the shrine of the\nVisitation in the hills of Judea, will see young women looking just\nas Mary did eighteen hundred years ago; for habits of life and dress\nhave scarcely changed in the east during that long time. The water\nat Nazareth rises about eight or ten rods from the place where it\nis poured into the jars, being conveyed to the latter place in an\naqueduct; and the schismatic Greek Christians have built a church\nat the spot where it issues from the ground, on account of an old\ntradition that the annunciation took place at the spring when the\nBlessed Virgin went there for water. There is this great advantage\nresulting from the error of the Greeks, that, on account of their\nbelief in it, they leave the spot where the annunciation really took\nplace in the quiet possession of the Catholics, the Franciscan monks\nbeing the custodians of the shrine.\n\nNow let us walk to the most holy place, which is at the other end\nof the village, and some distance from our tents. The premises are\nextensive, and consist of large buildings, surrounded by a high wall.\nPassing through the gate, we come to a court, around which are the\nschool-rooms, the pharmacy, the quarters of the superior and other\nmonks; from this larger area we go to a smaller one immediately\nin front of the church The church itself is about seventy feet\nsquare, and the roof is supported by four very heavy piers or square\ncolumns. These piers, and much of the walls, are covered with\ntapestry hangings, with embroidery and paintings; and the whole\nedifice, though not very large, has a fine, rich, and cheerful\nappearance, as if arranged for a perpetual festival. As we enter\nthe church, immediately before us is a flight of fifteen very broad\nsteps, leading down to the shrine. At the foot of these stairs is a\nvestibule, about twenty-five feet long by ten wide, and a low arch,\nopening in the middle of this space, admits to the holy place. There\nis a marble altar, and under the altar is a marble slab, four inches\nabove the floor; it has the Jerusalem cross in the centre, with\nthe Franciscan coat of arms on the right, and the sacred stigmata,\nor five wounds of the crucified Saviour, on the left. This marble\nmarks the spot where the Blessed Virgin stood at the time of the\nannunciation. On the back wall, under the altar, is the inscription,\n\"VERBUM CARO HIC FACTUM EST,\" (_Here the Word was made flesh_,)\nthe most wonderful and important inscription in the world. That at\nBethlehem, where it is written that \"HERE, OF THE VIRGIN MARY, JESUS\nCHRIST WAS BORN,\" could never have been engraved but for the event\ncommemorated in the words of the shrine at Nazareth. Above the altar\nis a picture well painted and old, but spoiled by the flat gold\ncrowns which have been fastened to the canvas over the heads of the\nBlessed Virgin and the angel. Below the table of the altar, and over\nthe marble slab, hang several silver lamps which burn continually.\nImmediately behind this altar and picture are another altar and\npicture, back to back with those of the shrine. The second altar has\nthe inscription, \"HIC ERAT SUBDITUS ILLIS,\" (_Here He was subject to\nthem_.) Behind these, and reached by a narrow rock-hewn stairway, is\nthe kitchen of the Blessed Virgin, where the fireplace and chimney\nare shown.\n\nAs we come into the church by the chief entrance, a most cheerful and\npleasant scene welcomes the pilgrim. The gay decorations, the many\npaintings, the statues and silver lamps, with other objects, make a\ncontrast with the dreariness of the ride to Nazareth, which seems to\nthe Christian like a glimpse of heaven. He raises his eyes, and sees\nthe choir where the Franciscan monks chant their office. Here is an\naltar with a large statue of the Blessed Virgin and the Infant Jesus,\nsurmounted by a canopy. There are two large organs in the choir,\none at the right, the other at the left. This choir is raised about\nsixteen steps above the floor of the church, and is immediately over\nthe most holy place, of which it may be said to form the roof. As the\nshrine is about fifteen steps below the level of the church floor,\nthe distance between the spot of the annunciation and the choir above\nit is about thirty steps. It gives the idea of three churches--the\nfirst being the main building, the second that of the holy place,\nwhich is below, and the third that of the monks' choir, which is\nimmediately over the shrine. As we look down the broad stair which\nleads to the shrine, we see that the walls are cased with marble and\nadorned with paintings. Before us is the holy place, to which the\neye is at once drawn; but before we reach it, in the vestibule, on\nthe right and left hand, stand beautiful marble altars, each with a\npainting over it. In the whole arrangement there is a dignity and\npropriety which strike the pilgrim most favorably, and he recognizes\nit as planned by men who had a vivid realization of the event which\nis the glory of Nazareth. To the left of the altar of the shrine is\nthe upper two thirds of a large granite column suspended from the\nroof, with a fragment of a marble column under it; though these are\nboth of dark stone, and of nearly the same color and size, it is easy\nto note the difference in the material of which they are composed.\n\nIt was on Friday, April 6th, that I first said mass at the shrine of\nthe annunciation. The interest of this spot is very great, even when\ncompared with other places in Palestine; and I had looked forward,\nwith great hope and expectation, to the day when I would be permitted\nto kneel and pray here. At last my wish was realized, and I offered\nthe holy sacrifice on the very spot where the incarnation of God took\nplace. By a concession of the holy see, the mass of the annunciation\nmay be said on this altar nearly every day in the year; so that the\npilgrim, coming at any season may have the consolation of being\npresent at the same mass as is said on the 25th of March. Of course,\nevery priest avails himself with eagerness of this privilege; and\nno words can express the emotion of his soul as, when reading the\nlast gospel, in speaking the words ET VERBUM CARO FACTUM EST, he\nkneels down on the very spot where that mystery took place, where the\nincarnation of God began. For it was to Nazareth that God sent his\nholy Archangel Gabriel:\n\n    \"to a virgin espoused to a man whose name was Joseph, of the\n    house of David; and the virgin's name was Mary. And the angel\n    being come in, said to her, Hail, full of grace, the Lord is\n    with thee: blessed art thou among women. And when she had\n    heard, she was troubled at his saying, and thought with herself\n    what manner of salutation this should be. And the angel said\n    to her, Fear not, Mary, for thou hast found grace with God.\n    Behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and shalt bring forth\n    a son: and thou shalt call his name Jesus. He shall be great,\n    and shall be called the Son of the Most High: and the Lord\n    God shall give unto him the throne of David his father; and he\n    shall reign in the house of Jacob for ever; and of his kingdom\n    there shall be no end. And Mary said to the angel, How shall\n    this be done, because I know not man? And the angel answering,\n    said to her: The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power\n    of the Most High shall overshadow thee; and therefore also the\n    Holy which shall be born of thee, shall be called the Son of\n    God.... And Mary said, Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it\n    done to me according to thy word. (St. Luke i.)\n\n    And the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us.\" (St. John i.)\n\nAfter having prayed a long time, prostrate at the shrine, I sat down\nat the side of the broad flight of steps leading to the holy place,\nand meditated for an hour. Before me was the spot where all these\nthings occurred, and where man's redemption was begun. It was easy\nto go back one thousand eight hundred years, and picture the scene.\nThe lowly maiden in her humble home, engaged, it may have been, in\nthe ordinary occupations of the day, or perchance resting for a time\nfrom them, and meditating on God, when suddenly the room was filled\nwith light, and the angel appeared and delivered his august message.\nThen in the house which once stood here the child Jesus lived, and\ngrew in favor with God and man. He ran about the humble but sacred\nhome in his boyhood, and wandered among the hills that are so close\naround Nazareth. Many a time did he go with Mary to the fountain when\nshe brought water for the use of the family. By her side he kept in\nhis early years, as children are wont to cling to their mothers. When\nhe had grown older, he helped Joseph in the work of carpentry, and\nwent with him as he journeyed to the various places where he found\nwork. No doubt the employment was humble, the tools rude and few; and\nit is reasonable to suppose that such work as a humble carpenter\nmight find among poor villagers or fishermen at the Lake of Tiberias\nwas not of the most elegant and costly kind. Even to this day there\nis great simplicity and rudeness in all the mechanic arts, which is\nnoticed by the traveller, and it must have been equally so in the\ncountry places in the days of our Saviour.\n\nThus for thirty years did Jesus dwell in Nazareth, undistinguished\nfrom others by any external appearance, and leading a hidden life of\ncontemplation and communing with his heavenly Father.\n\nWhen his ministry had begun, after his baptism in the Jordan and his\ntemptation of forty days in the wilderness, he came to Nazareth, and\nwent into the synagogue, according to his custom, and read out of the\nbook which was handed to him the words of Isaias,\n\n    \"The spirit of the Lord is upon me; wherefore he hath anointed\n    me to preach the Gospel to the poor. He hath sent me to heal\n    the contrite of heart, to preach deliverance to the captives,\n    and sight to the blind; to set at liberty them that are\n    bruised, to preach the acceptable year of the Lord, and the day\n    of reward. And he began to say to them, This day is fulfilled\n    this Scripture in your ears.\"\n\nWhen they had rejected his teaching, he went to Capernaum, on the\nborders of the Sea of Galilee, fifteen miles east from Nazareth, and\nthe people there were astonished at his doctrine and the miracles\nwhich he performed. Subsequently he visited Nazareth a second time,\nand was taunted by the people of the place, who regarded him as only\none of their neighbors. They said, \"Is not this the carpenter, the\nson of Mary, the brother of James and Joseph, and of Jude and Simon?\nare not also his sisters here with us? And they were scandalized in\nregard of him.\" The greater portion of our Lord's life, during the\nthree following years, was passed in the neighborhood of the Lake of\nTiberias, or near Jerusalem.\n\nNazareth has one or two other places of interest, yet they are of\nsmall note in comparison of the shrine of the annunciation. One of\nthese is the place where stood the workshop of Joseph; a chapel is\nbuilt here. Another is the rock called _Mensa Christi_, or Table of\nChrist, which is venerated as the place where our Lord often ate his\nfood. It projects three feet above the ground, and is about twelve\nfeet long and eight feet wide. A new church is over it.\n\nThe hill back of Nazareth is always ascended by travellers for the\nsake of the fine view which may be had there. The whole country\nfor miles around is visible--Mount Hermon, Mount Carmel, the\nMediterranean Sea, and the great plain of Esdr\u00e6lon. Just around\nNazareth the hills are rather bare; but everywhere else they are\nwooded, and sink down into green valleys. We see how the city lies\noff all the great routes of travel in former days, and is shut up by\nthe hills, and thus _separated_ (as the name Nazareth implies) from\nother places. Its isolated position, and the resulting obscurity, is\nthe reason why it was unknown to ancient writers, and there is no\nmention made of it in the Old Testament. From the Gospel narrative we\nlearn that the contemptuous inquiry was made \"Can any good thing come\nout of Nazareth?\" To this the Christian answers from the depth of his\nsoul, Yes! all good cometh thence. The Child of Nazareth has passed\nfrom obscurity and a hidden life to a prominence which no description\ncan adequately portray. He who was conceived of the Virgin Mary in\nthis little village is our Lord and our God, and in him centre all\nour hopes. He who condescended to be subject to Mary and Joseph in\nNazareth, is the King of kings and Lord of lords, and now and for\never reigneth in the heaven which is his home.\n\n\n\n\nTHE YOUNG VERMONTERS.\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\nPASTIMES AND PARTINGS.\n\nIn accordance with the teacher's announcement, the day following\nMichael's return was given up to rejoicings, and Mr. Blair invited\nthe school to pass it at his place.\n\nIt was one of those golden days not so frequent in our autumnal\nseason as to lose the charm of novelty, or the full sense of their\nvalue in redeeming its general sternness; and it seemed to the boys\nas if nature herself shared in the universal delight. The spacious\nground encircling Mr. Blair's residence afforded ample scope for\ntheir pastimes, and their dinner was served under the trees in the\nyard.\n\nTo those who had known Michael Hennessy only as the thoughtless,\nfrolicsome boy, it did not seem possible that a few short weeks could\nhave wrought the change now apparent in him. The fiery trial through\nwhich he had passed accomplished the work of time upon his character,\nand he emerged from it purified and matured.\n\nHis face still wore the sunny smile that had made it a joy to all,\nbut the light which lingered upon it was chastened and subdued. His\nmanners still charmed by the warm, ingenuous frankness that made him\nthe village pet, but their former reckless gayety was sobered by the\nspirit of piety, which had established its abode within his youthful\nheart from the moment when the blessed hand of adversity opened wide\nits portals, and prepared it to become thenceforth a chosen home of\nthe celestial guest.\n\nHe was more than ever the favorite of the boys, and the leader in\nall their sports; but his devotion to study was more faithful, his\nattention to every religious duty more regular, and his conduct under\nall circumstances more exemplary than ever before.\n\nSoon after his return, farmer Brown celebrated the event by inviting\nthe school--without any exceptions this time--to spend another day at\nthe farm, as the season for gathering nuts had arrived. Such a gay\ntime as they had! whisking the deep beds of fallen leaves about in\nsearch for hidden treasures, and watching the squirrels gleaning in\nthe path from which they had thrown off nature's covering for stray\nnuts, whose hiding places had thus been revealed.\n\nThe day passed delightfully, but not, like their former holidays, in\nunalloyed and careless pleasure. The thought would intrude upon its\nhappiest moments, that their little band was soon to be broken up,\nand that this was to be the last occasion upon which they would all\nmeet in the hey-day of boyish glee, to join in boyish pastimes.\n\nFor the change was now stealing upon them apace which presses closely\non the footsteps of boyhood--and from which our \"young Vermonters\"\nwere not to be exempted--when one and another must pass from its\narena, to enter upon a new stage of action and form new associations.\nWhen the dear old school-house, with all the memories that were to\nlink it with the shifting scenes of each single life--to which it had\nbeen the starting-point in quest of knowledge--was to be exchanged\nfor college halls, the office, the counter, or the farm, with all\ntheir excitements, laborious duties, and temptations, and their weary\nanxieties.\n\nThe next week after their visit to the farm, Frank Blair took his\nleave of home and friends to enter the naval school at B----. Not\nlong after, George Wingate, Henry Howe, and Johnny Hart entered the\nCollege of the Holy Cross. The same week, Patrick Casey was appointed\nclerk in a railroad office, and Dennis Sullivan left to take his\nplace as clerk in a wholesale establishment in Boston.\n\nWho shall say what pangs all these changes, so easily related, and\nso much a matter of course in this changeful world, cost the young\nexiles now banished from the sheltering bosom of home, and standing\nfor the first time face to face with the stern realities of life?\nThe homesick looking back to the dear and peaceful past, the timid,\nshrinking glances into the dim vista of the dreaded future--the one\nbathed in all the effulgence of morning, the other bearing already\nupon its sombre wings foreshadowings of the night!\n\nAnd who shall describe the loneliness of each home from which\nthe brightest, warmest ray of sunshine had been stricken, when\nthe school-boy with his \"shining morning face\" vanished from its\nprecincts, to return no more for ever with the light of his young\nlife upon his brow?\n\nNone but mothers can know the depth of the shadow that remains\nto them in the place of their mirthful boys. But take courage,\nye mothers! Rest not in supine regrets and gentle memories, but\nbetake yourselves with renewed energy and diligence to the use of\nthe all-conquering weapon of prayer, for now more than ever do your\ndarlings need its aid. Remember what the holy bishop said to the\nafflicted St. Monica in the olden time, \"It cannot be that the child\nof so many tears should perish.\" Let your sons, in the midst of\ntheir temptations and trials, be shielded and sustained by the firm\nassurance that their mothers are constantly lifting up pure hands and\nfervent hearts to heaven in their behalf. So, following the example\nof that saintly mother, may you hope to gain that mother's reward.\nFor it is true now as it was then, and will be unto the end of time,\nthat, \"They who sow in tears shall reap in joy!\"\n\nMichael remained at home, pursuing his studies diligently until the\nwinter was far advanced, when his father was taken alarmingly ill,\nand he was obliged to relinquish them and devote himself to his care,\nand that of the family. He had long known that some trouble was\nweighing upon his father, and he was now made acquainted with it.\n\nWhen Mr. Hennessy first came to M----, he rented a very pretty place\njust out of the village, to which they became so much attached that\nhe finally purchased it, and had from time to time been able to make\nimprovements and add little embellishments within and around the\npremises, besides meeting the payments as they fell due. Latterly,\nwith failing health and an increasing family, he had been unable to\ndo more than support his household comfortably, and two payments\nremained to be met; they were now both due, and his creditor\nthreatened to foreclose the mortgage upon the place, if they were\nnot promptly paid.\n\nMichael was deeply distressed when the state of their affairs was\nmade known to him. The thought of losing their all, and the home\nthey so dearly loved, the scene of so many tranquil joys, weighed\nheavily upon his young heart. He sought in fervent prayer the refuge\nof the Catholic, commending himself and all his dear ones anew to the\nprotection of the Blessed Virgin Mother, and leaving all his troubles\nat her feet. Suddenly it flashed upon his remembrance that Mr. Blair\nhad told him if he should ever need assistance or advice not to fail\nof applying to him, and that he should consider it a favor if he\nwould do so. To him, therefore, he resolved to go at once, though it\nwas not without much of the old apprehension of his sternness that\nhe sought the office of that gentleman, mingled with uprisings of a\npride that rebelled against asking favors from one who had formerly\ndespised his people. For duty's sake, however, he mastered all these\nfeelings, and was received with the utmost kindness. With a faltering\nvoice he laid the whole case open to Mr. Blair, and concluded by\nsaying, \"Now, sir, you see the sum due on the place is not a large\none, and if you feel disposed to advance it, I will guarantee the\npayment of interest and principal as soon as I can leave my father\nand get into a situation to earn it.\"\n\n\"What do you intend to do?\" said Mr. Blair.\n\n\"I must seek a place as book-keeper or clerk in some establishment;\nand will do so without delay.\"\n\n\"Do you prefer such a position to any other?\" inquired his friend.\n\n\"I have,\" said Michael, blushing with bashful earnestness, \"always\nindulged the hope that I might be able to study law; but this must\nnow be relinquished,\" he added after a slight pause.\n\n\"Well, my young friend,\" said Mr. Blair kindly, \"I will now tell you\nwhat I think had better be done. I will raise this money for you,\nand you may take your own time to pay it. I have no fears on that\nscore. I will see that matters in relation to the home are put upon\na safe footing without delay. You will take care of your father and\nthe family until he is sufficiently recovered to spare you, and then\nyou will enter my office as a student. I have felt very lonely since\nFrank went away, and will be pleased to have his best friend with me.\nBesides, you are an excellent and rapid penman; I need such a one in\nmy business just now very much, and can afford to pay you liberally\nfor your assistance. My old hands are getting too stiff to write\nmuch, and my business is increasing. If this proposal suits you,\nconsider the matter settled for the present.\"\n\nIt need not be told how thankfully Michael accepted the offer, nor\nwhat fervent thanksgivings were poured from pious hearts in that home\nwhen the arrangement was made known.\n\nMr. Hennessy recovered rapidly when the pressure of adverse\ncircumstances and the fears of impending calamity were removed; and\nMichael soon entered Mr. Blair's office as a student. Here his close\nattention to business, his application to study, and his fidelity to\nevery duty, gained for him the highest esteem and confidence of his\nsuperior, who would often exclaim to himself, \"Oh! why could not my\nboy have been such a one as this? With every obstacle removed from\nhis path and every encouragement offered, why would he persist in\ncasting all his advantages aside, to pursue a reckless career of\nfolly?\"\n\nAnd indeed he heard little that was encouraging from Frank in his\nnew position. He was so homesick, discontented, and dissatisfied\nwith everything as to unfit him for the studies and duties of the\nschool, the discipline and restraints of which were insupportably\nirksome to him. But his father was only convinced that they were\nremedies the more necessary to a restless spirit which chafed so\nfiercely under them. His passion for mischief and fun continually\ndrew the chains he hated more closely around him, and involved\nhim daily in new difficulties. One circumstance alone--humanly\nspeaking--prevented him from falling into utter ruin. He had formed\nan enthusiastic friendship for his sister Fanny's dearest friend,\nthe eldest daughter of Mrs. Plimpton, Julia Plimpton--one of those\ngentle, lovely girls, who wield a controlling influence over such\nimpetuous, restless characters. He was in correspondence with her,\nand to her he communicated all his troubles and his peevish, fretful\nrepinings, in perfect confidence, receiving just the advice he needed\nfrom time to time to keep him from breaking rudely away from all\nrestraint.\n\n\nCHAPTER XII.\n\nDEVELOPMENTS.\n\nTwo years elapsed without any material changes in the circle to which\nthis narrative relates.\n\nDuring this period, Miss Carlton, one of Miss Blair's best friends,\nnear her own age, and a lady of intelligence and wealth, with strong\nphilanthropic impulses, had set herself with great enthusiasm to\ngather a large number of poor French Catholic children, who would\nnot attend the public schools, into a sort of boarding-school at\nher own cottage on the confines of the village. She solicited aid\nfrom Miss Blair in dressing her young wards suitably, and entered\nzealously into the task of educating them, as a necessary prelude to\ntheir conversion to Protestantism, which must inevitably follow. Miss\nBlair willingly assisted her with funds, and the use of her needle\nin preparing clothing; but could not be persuaded to go any further.\nMiss Carlton at length becoming vexed and irritated by the cool\nscepticism with which her efforts were regarded, insisted on knowing\nthe reason.\n\n\"I am sure it is not want of benevolence,\" said she; \"for I have\nknown you too long and too well to doubt the kindness of your heart.\nDo tell me, then, why you will persist in looking upon my exertions\nwith so much apathy?\"\n\n\"Precisely because,\" said Miss Blair, laughing, \"I once tried the\nexperiment myself, under as much more promising auspices as the\nsuperior numbers and greater necessities of that class of children in\na city could furnish. My failure was more grand than yours will be,\nbecause my operations were on a grander scale.\"\n\n\"But why must I of necessity fail?\"\n\n\"Ah! there lies the mystery. I cannot tell you why; nor do I deny\nbut you may benefit them so far as learning to read and write, and\neven some little smattering of further knowledge may go; but make\nProtestants of them? Never! When you think you have secured them by\ncatching the unfledged brood and attaching them to the Protestant\ncage by food and favors, just one chirp from the mother-bird, and\n_Presto!_ your flock is gone! If you will take the pains to follow,\nyou will find them nestled under the parent wing and peeping out at\nyou so contentedly and complacently! I know, for I have tried it;\nand am forced to laugh now when I think how provoked I was, and how\npuzzled to account for the mysterious, irrepressible, and apparently\nirresistible power that majestic mother exercised. Since I came\nto this part of Vermont, my conviction of the futility of all such\nattempts has been confirmed. There have been great rejoicings among\nthe Methodists and Baptists, at one time and another, over accessions\nto their numbers from the ancient ark; but let a priest appear in\nthose localities and utter the rallying call of their church--away\nscamper the converts, and their Protestant _confr\u00e8res_ have seen the\nlast of them!\"\n\nAs Mrs. Blair had intimated during the colloquy with Mrs. Plimpton,\nher sister-in-law had become interested in the converts of M----\nand in reading their books. She began listlessly, from a mere\nwillingness to hear what could be said on that side, and to see fair\nplay, perhaps unconsciously hoping to find some solution for that\n\"mysterious power\" which so puzzled her. But the investigation thus\nindolently opened soon awakened new ideas as to the importance of\nissues which involved eternity. From that moment nothing could exceed\nthe fervent energy with which she followed up the subject, determined\nto know and follow the truth, if it was to be found on earth. Her\nlabors resulted as all such labors honestly entered upon, diligently\npursued, and governed by the spirit of justice, must inevitably\nresult. She found herself safely sheltered under the wings of the\ngentle mother whose loving attractions had formerly astonished her\nignorance. Her brother made no comments, but poor Mrs. Blair was\nutterly disgusted.\n\nMeanwhile her favorite niece--because Frank's favorite and petted\nsister--Fanny was drawn by casually looking into the books which her\naunt was studying so closely to take a lively interest in the same\nsubject. But the reading of \"prosy books of controversy,\" as she\ncalled them, was an effort quite beyond her patience, so she would\nseek the office occasionally and question Michael. He declined, as\nfar as he could in conscience, to assist her in the matter, thinking\nthat to do so would be in some sort a breach of the confidence\nreposed in him by her father.\n\nAt length one day, when he had been even more provokingly indifferent\nthan usual, and pursued his writing diligently despite her\nquestioning, she exclaimed,\n\n\"I never did see such a vexatious fellow as you are! I can't imagine\nwhat Frank could have seen in you to like so well. One might just\nas well talk to a stick; there's nothing interesting or sociable\nabout you! I suppose you think you're going to keep me from being a\nCatholic by your hateful ways; but you won't, I can tell you. I can\n_read_, if you won't talk, only I _do_ hate the trouble.\" And she\ndeparted, leaving him amused beyond measure at her vehemence.\n\nShe was engaged in a correspondence with Julia Plimpton, of the\nfrequent and confidential nature in which girls of that age are wont\nto indulge, and of course opened her heart to her friend upon the\nsubject which now most interested her. Their letters were soon filled\nwith the discussion of religious questions, in which after a time\nMrs. Plimpton joined, expressing her surprise that so much could be\nsaid in favor of a creed which she had always regarded as the height\nof absurdity, and the last stronghold of bigotry, superstition, and\nignorance, in this progressive age.\n\nAt the stage of our narrative upon which this chapter opens,\nMr. Hennessy was one day looking over the columns of the Boston\n_Pilot_--to which Mr. Sullivan was a subscriber--when his eye fell\nupon the following paragraph:\n\n    \"If Patrick Hennessy or any of his family, who landed in Boston\n    from the ship Hibernia in the summer of 18--, will call at\n    the _Pilot_ office, they will hear something greatly to their\n    advantage.\"\n\nAfter consulting with Mrs. Hennessy, Michael, and Mr. Blair, he\ndecided to start for Boston without delay.\n\nThe editor of the _Pilot_, when found, asked him many questions as\nto his place of residence in Ireland, the name of his wife, of the\npriest who married them, of his other family connections, and where\nhe had lived since he came to America; all which being satisfactorily\nanswered, the following letter was put into his hands to read:\n\n                              \"SAN FRANCISCO, Sept. 8, 18--.\n\n    \"TO THE EDITOR OF THE BOSTON PILOT:\n\n    \"DEAR SIR: When I was on board the Golden City, bound for this\n    place early in the summer of 18--, the sailor on the 'look-out'\n    discovered an object floating at some distance astern, and\n    notified the captain, who ordered the boat manned to overhaul\n    it. The object proved to be a man lashed to a table and\n    apparently dead. They brought him to the vessel, where, after\n    a time, he began to show signs of life, and in a few hours was\n    able to give an account of himself. The Polar Queen, on which\n    he was a passenger, was struck by an iceberg in the night. At\n    the first shock he secured himself firmly to the table and\n    sprang overboard; after which he remembered nothing, and could\n    give no idea how long it was since the event, but supposed the\n    vessel went down with all on board, as she was badly shivered\n    and rapidly filling the last he knew of her.\n\n    \"His name was Michael Hennessy, and he was a tradesman like\n    myself, and from the same county at home. He had a brother\n    Patrick, who was to sail for America the same year. The two\n    brothers married two sisters, by name Mary and Bridget Denver,\n    the year before. Michael married Bridget. They had no children\n    when Michael left home. There was great call for work at our\n    trades in San Francisco, and Michael came on here with me. As\n    soon as we reached this place, he wrote home to the parish\n    priest, Father O'Reilly, to have Patrick come to California,\n    sending money which I loaned him. He received answer that his\n    brother, with their two wives and Patrick's new-born infant,\n    left soon after he did on the Hibernia, bound for Boston. He\n    then applied to you, as you may remember, to get information\n    of them, if you could. In due course you informed him that\n    the Hibernia arrived safely at Boston; that you found the\n    people with whom they stopped, who stated that Michael's wife\n    and child died during a severe storm on the voyage out; that\n    Patrick stopped in Boston until he heard of the loss of the\n    Polar Queen with all on board, when he started for the western\n    country, and they had heard nothing from him since.\n\n    \"Michael then sent notices to papers in all the western cities,\n    but could get no tidings from his brother. We continued to\n    work at our trades, and the master builder who employed us,\n    owning a deal of land near the city, paid us in city lots, on\n    which we built houses, to rent according as we could, when\n    work was scant. Rents were very high, for there was a great\n    rush to the city, and buildings scarce, and the city lots\n    went up in a way that would astonish the world. So Mike and I\n    found ourselves rich of a sudden; but he always uneasy about\n    his brother. At last, when he could stand the heavy heart no\n    longer, he determined to go in search of him. In case any thing\n    might happen him on his travels, he executed papers leaving\n    all he had with me in trust for his brother or family, should\n    they ever be found. Just when he was ready to start, he took\n    sick of a fever and died the fourth day, which was the 27th of\n    last month. I will do all in my power, as I promised him, to\n    find his brother if he is still living; and my request is that\n    you will help me. I have notices out through all the western\n    country. He left a large amount in gold on deposit, and a\n    still larger property in buildings and lots in the city. The\n    rents are accumulating on my hands, but I will make no further\n    investments until I know what will happen.\n\n            Yours respectfully,\n\n                                              \"JAMES TRACY.\"\n\nAfter making arrangements to communicate with Tracy through the\neditor, who was to receive and forward drafts for him, Mr. Hennessy\nset out for home.\n\nThe surprise of all upon hearing the news may be imagined.\n\nAfter a long consultation with his wife, Mr. Hennessy sought Mr.\nBlair, to whom he communicated the fact that the Michael of our\nnarrative was the son of his brother Michael; that their own baby\ndied in a fit on the night of Bridget's death, and they adopted the\nlittle motherless one in its place, without saying any thing to their\ncompanions, but intending to inform his brother of the fact when\nthey should meet. Subsequent events determined them to keep it still\nconcealed; but now that Michael was the rightful heir to all this\nwealth, it must be revealed.\n\nMr. Blair urged that, as his brother left the property to him, it was\njust as well to make no revelation on the subject; but Mr. Hennessy\ninsisted that his brother made that arrangement in ignorance of the\nexistence of his own child, and it would not be right for him to take\nadvantage of it, and, in fine, that he would have nothing to do with\nthe property. It was far more painful for him to give up his claim\nupon Michael as his son, and he did not feel equal to doing it in\nperson. He therefore begged Mr. Blair to communicate these facts to\nMichael for him.\n\nThat gentleman lost no time in fulfilling the commission, and Michael\nwas of course overwhelmed with amazement. He hastened to assure his\nfather that he would not consent to any release of claims on the\nscore of family ties, and they both went into a council with Mr.\nBlair upon \"the situation.\" Finally they determined that Michael\nshould transfer all the money to his father, and, retaining the real\nestate in his own hands, go into the practice of law in San Francisco\nhimself. He at first proposed to have the family go with him to that\nplace; but they had lived so long in Vermont, and become so much\nattached to M----, that they preferred not to leave.\n\nBefore Michael set out for California, he had a long conversation\nwith Mr. Blair, at the conclusion of which it was arranged that,\nafter he had established himself in his new home, and opened an\noffice there, he should come back, and if a certain young lady (who\nwas about to become a Catholic in \"spite of him\") could be persuaded\nto accompany his return--as he had good reason to hope she would--his\nnext journey to that far off land would not be a solitary one.\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII.\n\nCONCLUSION.\n\nDuring the progress of these events, the health of George Wingate had\nbeen gradually failing, but so imperceptibly as to create no serious\nalarm; and he could not be prevailed upon to abandon his studies, or\nthe hope that he would live to consecrate his young life to his God\nin holy orders, until it was near its close. Henry Howe and Johnny\nHart devoted themselves tenderly to him, and watched his decline with\nthe grief which under such circumstances always attends friendships\ncreated and cemented by religion. He began at length to fail so\nrapidly that his family were sent for, and he never returned to the\nhome of his childhood, but sleeps in peace under the shadow of the\n\"Holy Cross\" which he so dearly loved.\n\nHis mantle seemed to have fallen upon his devoted friend, Johnny\nHart, who in due course of time entered upon the vineyard from which\nhis beloved companion had been withdrawn while the dews of the\nmorning still lingered upon his head, and the labors of the day were\nhardly begun.\n\nSoon after the death of George, his oldest sister, Mary, joined the\nSisters of Charity.\n\nIn the same year, Henry Howe took his father's place in the\nmercantile business, which was rapidly increasing in importance with\nthe growth of the village, and Dennis Sullivan went into partnership\nwith him.\n\nAfter Michael reached San Francisco, he arranged his affairs, and\nopened an office in one of the best locations in the city, without\ndelay. He found a home in James Tracy's house, and one of the best\nfriends in that worthy man, who took a pride and interest in the son\nof his lamented friend scarcely less than that of a father.\n\nFrank Blair became importunate in his solicitations for the hand of\nJulia Plimpton. Her mother steadfastly declining to consent until\nhe should have established a character for sobriety and stability,\nhe became exasperated, and abruptly left the navy. His disconsolate\nfamily could get no trace as to the course of his flight.\n\nOne day, as Michael Hennessy was passing down the street to his\noffice, he observed a young man walking rapidly in advance of him,\nand, accidentally catching a side glimpse of his face, what was his\nastonishment to recognize Frank Blair.\n\n\"Why Frank, my lad, where in the world did you come from?\" he cried\nout.\n\n\"Rather answer that question on your own account!\" replied the\nastonished Frank. \"How in the world do you happen to be in San\nFrancisco?\"\n\n\"If I could have seen you as I passed through New York, you would\nhave known all; but I could not find you, and had no time to spare\nfor a long search,\" said Michael. \"It is a long story; so come with\nme to the office, and you shall hear it.\"\n\nWhen the friends were seated, Frank told Michael that he had left the\nnavy without a discharge, and shipped as seaman on board a vessel\nbound for Panama; and that he supposed his friends were wild with\nanxiety about him.\n\nMichael communicated the details relating to his own affairs, with\nwhich our readers are already acquainted. He then wrote to Mr.\nBlair the story of Frank's arrival in safety, and that if he had no\nobjections Frank would study law with him in San Francisco. Upon\nreceiving the letter, Mr. Blair obtained an honorable discharge for\nhis son from the navy, and consented to his remaining with Michael.\nIn the course of time he went into partnership with his friend--now\nhis brother-in-law--who has become one of the most celebrated\ncriminal lawyers in that city.\n\nTwo years after the marriage of Michael, Frank was permitted to claim\nthe hand of Julia Plimpton. At the same time, Henry Howe was married\nto Mrs. Plimpton's youngest daughter, Mary, and her mother came to\nlive with them.\n\nMrs. Plimpton's son Charles is a lawyer in Massachusetts, and it is\nsaid he is coming for Lucy Wingate soon.\n\nThe people of M----, having noticed the frequent visits of Dennis\nSullivan and Patrick Casey at Mr. Hennessy's, and that two beautiful\ncottages are building on lots purchased by that gentleman each side\nof his own, have settled the question that two more weddings are soon\nto take place in M----, but have not yet \"named the day.\"\n\n\n\n\nREADING HOMER.\n\n\n    How my dreamy childhood pondered\n        On that old heroic tongue!\n    Then, the dream-land where I wandered\n        Was the Olympus Homer sung;\n        The cloud-cleaving peaks that trembled\n        When the mighty gods assembled.\n\n    Dazzled saw I blue-eyed Pallas\n        Throned by Zeus on golden seat,\n    Sipped from Hebe's nectar chalice,\n        Plucked Cythera's roses sweet--\n        Breathless watched, as from those portals\n        Battleward clashed down the immortals.\n\n    Naiads from Scamander's fountain\n        Lifted to my lips the cup;\n    Oreads skimming H\u00e6mus' mountain\n        To the tryst-place caught me up;\n        Gleamed athwart the forest's grace\n        The white light of Dian's face.\n\n    Burst upon my ear the townward\n        Thunder of Achilles' wheel,\n    When the fair long locks trailed downward,\n        And the shriek made Ilium reel.\n        Conquering torches, steep to steep,\n        Flashed along the wine-dark deep.\n\n    But my heart--that restless roamer--\n        Quit those fields of kingly strife,\n    That old world of Greece and Homer,\n        For the world of love and life.\n        Dead, like leaves on autumn clay,\n        Those old gods and wonders lay.\n\n    O the spirit's aspiration,\n        Glorious through all nature's bound!\n    The soul yearning through creation--\n        All the sought, and all the found!\n        Oh! what is--and what shall be\n        In far immortality?\n\n    For truth's marvels well are able\n        All of fiction to eclipse,\n    And the wine of classic fable\n        Tasteless palls upon the lips.\n        From the living fount of truth\n        Wells the soul's immortal youth.\n\n    Still at times when basks the river\n        The long summer afternoon,\n    When the broad green pastures quiver\n        In the rippling breeze of June,\n        I unclose the Iliad's pages,\n        To unearth those buried ages.\n\n    But no Ilium now, nor tragic\n        Plains I find in Homer's lay;\n    With a new and stranger magic\n        Now it leads another way--\n        Whirls me on a sudden track\n        To my merry childhood back.\n\n    All that fresh young joy rejoices,\n        Beats the child heart as of yore,\n    And again I hear--oh! voices\n        That I thought to hear no more,\n        Till--the dusk has round me grown;\n        Close the book--the dream has flown.\n\n                                                    C. E. B.\n\n\n\n\nTHE WORKS OF GERALD GRIFFIN.[208]\n\n\nOf the works of fiction in the English language of which the first\nhalf of this century has been so prolific, Ireland has contributed at\nleast a fair proportionate share. Her writers in this department of\nliterature are numerous, and their productions have been generally\nreceived with due favor on this side of the Atlantic as correct\nportraitures of the habits and manners of a people in whom we take so\ndeep an interest, and whose very contradictions of character render\nthem interesting studies for the curious and philosophic. Of so large\na number four at least deserve special notice, standing, as they\ndo, prominently in the front rank of Irish authors and exhibiting\nin a marked degree a pleasant diversity of talent and invention, as\nvaried as the peculiar characteristics of the provinces to which\nthey belong. Carleton, for example, was an Ulster-man, rugged and\nungraceful, yet possessing a deep vein of caustic humor, while his\nfigures are struck out as distinctly as if his pen had some of the\npower Of Michael Angelo's chisel; John Banim was the embodiment of\nLeinster propriety and stability; Lever is never so much at home as\nat the mess-table of the \"Rangers,\" or when endangering the neck\nof his hero or heroine over a Galway fence; while through Gerald\nGriffin's pages flow, now gently as a meandering stream and anon\nwith the impetuosity of a mountain torrent, the poetry and passion\nof Munster. Still, in the strictest sense, none of these novelists\ncan be considered national; yet all are true to Irish character. To\nthose unacquainted with the radical difference of mind, temperament,\nand even physique, which is to be found in so comparatively small\na country, this may seem paradoxical; but it is nevertheless true.\nMickey Frees and Lowry Lovbys are plentiful enough in Ireland,\nbut only in their respective sections; while Valentine McClutchy\nterrifies the northern tenant each recurring gala-day, and Banim's\nPaddy Flynn, to use the pithy remark of Sir Philip Crampton, \"is\nhanged twice a year regularly in the south of Ireland.\"\n\nIf any of them be entitled to the term national, that honor should\nbe awarded to Griffin, who in his _Invasion_, _Duke of Monmouth_,\nand some minor stories, has travelled out of his favorite province\nwith some degree of success. But even in his wanderings in Wicklow,\nTaunton dene, and the wilds of Northumbria, we are constantly\ncatching glimpses of the Shannon and Killarney. The reason of\nthis is obvious. He aimed to be a strict and minute copyist of\nnature; and nature to him was bounded by the lovely scenery of\nMunster and the people with whom he had been in daily intercourse\nfor almost the whole of his short life. His power of observation,\nthus limited, became intensified, and what he lost in breadth of\nview and amplitude of knowledge, he gained in the distinctness and\nfidelity of his pictures. Besides, the merits of the true novelist,\nlike those of the painter, should never be estimated by the square\nof the canvas, but by his faithfulness, either to human figure,\naction, and circumstance, or to the embodiment of noble ideas. It\nis not so difficult as it may seem to call up imaginary kings and\nprinces, noble lords and ladies, clothe them with all the gorgeous\npanoply so easily found in the pages of dear old Froissart, or in\nthe latest book of fashions, and make them speak and act in the most\napproved manner of our modern romances, because few of us care to\ninquire into the correctness either of design or execution. Cervantes\nand Goldsmith painted the men and manners of their day with rare\nfidelity, and their works will be read by the learned and unlearned\nas long as the languages in which they wrote shall exist; and no one\ncan doubt that two of the most popular authors of our time, Balzac\nand Dickens, no matter how inferior in some respects to the authors\nof _Don Quixote_ and the _Vicar of Wakefield_, have truly held up to\nus panoramas of modern society in the two great cities of Europe. For\nGerald Griffin we may not, perhaps, claim the universality of those\ngreat masters; but in purity of expression, truthfulness to nature,\nand delicacy of moral perception he is the equal of any of them.\n\nThere are some persons conversant with Irish character who maintain\nthat its essential element is neither gayety nor combativeness, but\nmelancholy, and sustain their apparently singular theory by reference\nto the national music and poetry. Griffin's writings would afford\nan additional argument in favor of this position. His genius was\ndecidedly tragic, his muse sad and retrospective. His pauses to give\nus a glimpse of fireside enjoyment appear to be more as tributes to\nold home memories, than as arising from any natural desire to linger\nover the recollections of such tranquil scenes; and his snatches\nof humor and merriment seem thrown in artistically, not so much\nto relieve the sombre shading of his picture as to give its most\nprominent figures greater depth and boldness. He also labored under\nthe disadvantage of all tragic minds; for, though he never can be\nsaid to have ignored the \"eternal fitness of things\" in rewarding\nthe good and punishing the wicked, we close many of his volumes with\na feeling more akin to sorrow than rejoicing, and while admitting\nthe righteousness of his judgments, we sigh to think how God's best\ngifts to man may be turned to his own destruction. It seems to be the\nlaw of tragedy that the bad men must be more men of action than the\ngood, in order to produce the proper effect. They dress better, talk\nmore persuasively, and display high mental and physical qualities\nwhich, say what we may, will generally provoke a certain sympathy\nfor them, evil as may be their acts. This inherent defect Griffin\nlabored to modify, if he could not entirely eradicate. His moral\nheroes are good enough in their way, but their virtues are of too\nnegative a character. Kyrle Daly, in the _Collegians_, and young\nKingsly, in the _Duke of Monmouth_, have all the qualities we could\ndesire in a friend or brother; but while we honor and respect them, a\nsomething akin to sympathy is clandestinely stealing out to the proud\nand wilful Hardress Cregan, and even to the cool malignity of that\nunparalleled scoundrel, Colonel Kirke. O'Haedha, in the _Invasion_,\nis an exception. He is _sui generis_ in Griffin's pantheon, being not\nonly a man of pure morality and well up in the lore of his times,\nbut he is also a chieftain governing wisely and firmly, a man of war\nas well as of love and peace, strong in his affections and hatreds,\nliving, moving, and breathing like one who has a subtle brain, warm\nblood, and a powerful arm to enforce his authority. He is decidedly\nnot only Griffin's grandest conception, but will stand in favorable\ncomparison with any we can recall in historical romance.\n\nThe _Collegians_ is Gerald Griffin's best known and most popular\nnovel; and, when we consider the early age of the author at the\ntime it was written, and the circumstances amid which it was\ncomposed, we are equally surprised at his knowledge of the springs\nof human action, and at the excellences of the book, both as regards\ncorrectness of style and completeness of plot. Though the working\nof some of the strongest passions of our nature is portrayed in\nit--love, hatred, revenge, ambition--there is nothing about them\nsensational or melodramatic; and though many different characters\nare introduced, and incidents necessarily occur in a short space\nof time, there is nothing hurried or disjointed, one character\nacting upon another and each event following and hinging on the\none preceding so gracefully and naturally that the reader is borne\nalong on an unbroken current, as it were, from cause to effect till\nhe reaches the final catastrophe. It is related that a portion of\nthis admirable book was written in court while the author, who had\nattained considerable proficiency as a short-hand writer in London,\nwas engaged in reporting an important law case. During an interval\nin the proceedings, Griffin took out his manuscripts, and, as was\nhis habit, when a moment of leisure presented itself, proceeded to\ncontinue his story, regardless of his surroundings. It happened that\nDaniel O'Connell was employed professionally in the suit, and not\nknowing the writer, and supposing him to be occupied transcribing his\nnotes, looked over his shoulder to read the evidence; but finding\nthat it was something very different from the dry question and\nanswer of counsellor and witness, the great advocate turned away in\nsilent indifference. He little thought at the time that the quiet,\nindustrious young reporter was Gerald Griffin, and that the work upon\nwhich he was so intently engaged was the _Collegians_--a work which,\nfrom the day of its publication, was ever the favorite solace of the\nhours of relaxation of that illustrious statesman.\n\nThe moral of the book, however, is its greatest merit. The character\nof Hardress Cregan is inimitably drawn. Young, gifted both in person\nand mind, with a disposition naturally inclined to good, but warped\nand misled by a fond, proud, worldly mother, and the example of a\ndissolute father and his associates; early left to his own guidance\nand the indulgence of his whims and fancies, he descends from the\nhigh position in which we find him at the opening chapter, through\nall the stages of crime--parental disobedience, ingratitude, deceit,\ndebauchery, and finally murder. Through each step in guilt we can\ntrace the cause of his ruin--moral cowardice, false pride, absence\nof self-control, alternating or uniting, but always with disastrous\neffect, until in the culminating scene, in which, torn by remorse\nand conscious guilt, he leaves his native shores a condemned felon\nand dies at sea, we feel that the punishment, no matter how severe,\nis but in strict accordance with our highest sense of retributive\njustice. Nor are the almost equally, though perhaps unconsciously,\nguilty parents forgotten. Like a just judge, Griffin not only\npunishes the actual perpetrator of crime, but metes out penalties to\nthose whose duty it is to correct the excesses of youth, restrain\ntheir passions, and lead them by precept and example to the practice\nas well as the knowledge of good, and who neglect the sacred trust.\nWhat parent, after reading the _Collegians_, can contemplate without\na shudder the pangs of the haughty mother and the utter hopelessness\nof her dissipated husband, when they found their only child, so\ntenderly nurtured and so thoroughly schooled, torn from their arms\nin chains, and dying the death of an outcast and a convict. Their\npunishment abided in their parental hearts, and the author goes\nno further. Many years ago, we casually overheard one of the most\nthoroughly read, as well as one of the most profound thinkers in\nAmerica, say, upon being asked his opinion of the _Collegians_,\nthat he considered it the best novel in the language; for, while it\nmade you hate the crime, it did not take away your charity for the\ncriminal; an opinion which we think will be concurred in by all who\nhave attentively read the book and applied the moral it contains.\nKyrle Daly is an antipode of his friend and fellow-student, Hardress\nCregan. His filial reverence and moral rectitude are depicted in his\nevery action, and his whole character is as beautiful and lovable as\nthat of the other is dark and fraught with terrible warnings. Not\nthat young Daly is presented as a model lackadaisical individual, by\nany means; but as a strong man of matured mind and deep feelings,\ntrue in friendship and trusting in love; yet withal guided by the\ndictates of his religion and directed by the authority and advice of\nhis father and mother, a weakness, if it be one, we are sorry to say,\nnot often indulged in at the present day.\n\nDid the limits of our article permit, we might furnish many extracts\nfrom this remarkable novel in testimony of the high opinion of the\nmerits found in its pages by so many distinguished scholars, but the\n_Collegians_ is now so generally read that this is hardly necessary.\nWe transcribe, however, the following brief sketch of a morning on\nthe Shannon, and a breakfast scene, as a specimen of the author's\npower of minute description of rural scenery and felicitous rendering\nof social life:\n\n    \"They had assembled, on the morning of Eily's disappearance, a\n    healthy and blooming household of all sizes, in the principal\n    sitting-room, for a purpose no less important than that of\n    dispatching breakfast. It was a favorable moment for any one\n    who might be desirous of sketching a family picture. The\n    windows of the room, which were thrown up for the purpose\n    of admitting the fresh morning air, opened upon a trim and\n    sloping meadow, that looked sunny and cheerful with the bright\n    green after-grass of the season. The broad and sheety river\n    washed the very margin of the little field, and bore upon its\n    quiet bosom (which was only ruffled by the circling eddies\n    that encountered the advancing tide) a variety of craft, such\n    as might be supposed to indicate the approach to a large\n    city. Majestic vessels, floating idly on the basined flood,\n    with sails half-furled, in keeping with the languid beauty\n    of the scene; lighters burdened to the water's edge with\n    bricks or sand; large rafts of timber borne onward toward the\n    neighboring quays under the guidance of a shipman's boat-hook;\n    pleasure-boats with gaudy pennons hanging at peak and topmast;\n    or turf-boats with their unpicturesque and ungraceful lading,\n    moving sluggishly forward, while their black sails seemed\n    gasping for a breath to fill them--such were the incidents that\n    gave a gentle animation to the prospect immediately before the\n    eyes of the cottage dwellers. On the further side of the river\n    arose the Cratloe hills, shadowed in various places by a broken\n    cloud, and rendered beautiful by the checkered appearance\n    of the ripening tillage and the variety of hues that were\n    observable along their wooded sides. At intervals, the front of\n    a handsome mansion brightened up a passing gleam of sunshine,\n    while the wreaths of blue smoke, ascending at various distances\n    from among the trees, tended to relieve the idea of extreme\n    solitude which it would otherwise have presented.\n\n    \"The interior of the cottage was not less interesting to\n    contemplate than the landscape which lay before it. The\n    principal breakfast-table (for there were two spread in the\n    room) was placed before the window, the neat and snow-white\n    damask cloth covered with fare that spoke satisfactorily for\n    the circumstances of the proprietor, and for the housewifery\n    of his helpmate. The former, a fair, pleasant-faced old\n    gentleman, in a huge buckled cravat and square-toed shoes,\n    somewhat distrustful of the meagre beverage which fumed out\n    of Mrs. Daly's lofty and shining coffee-pot, had taken his\n    position before a cold ham and fowl which decorated the lower\n    end of the table. His lady, a courteous old personage, with a\n    face no less fair and happy than her husband's, and with eyes\n    sparkling with good nature and intelligence, did the honors of\n    the board at the further end. On the opposite side, leaning\n    over the back of his chair with clasped hands, in an attitude\n    which had a mixture of abstraction and anxiety, sat Mr. Kyrle\n    Daly, the first pledge of connubial affection that was born to\n    this comely pair. He was a young man already initiated in the\n    rudiments of the legal profession; of a handsome figure, and\n    in manner--but something now pressed upon his spirits which\n    rendered this an unfavorable occasion for describing him.\n\n    \"A second table was laid in a more retired portion of the\n    room, for the accommodation of the younger part of the family.\n    Several well-burnished goblets, or porringers, of thick\n    milk flanked the sides of this board, while a large dish of\n    smooth-coated potatoes reeked up in the centre. A number\n    of blooming boys and girls, between the ages of four and\n    twelve, were seated at this simple repast, eating and drinking\n    away with all the happy eagerness of youthful appetite.\n    Not, however, that this employment occupied their exclusive\n    attention; for the prattle which circulated round the table\n    frequently became so boisterous as to drown the conversation\n    of the older people, and to call forth the angry rebuke of the\n    master of the family.\n\n    \"The furniture of the apartment was in accordance with the\n    appearance and manners of its inhabitants. The floor was\n    handsomely carpeted, a lofty green fender fortified the\n    fireplace, and supplied Mr. Daly in his facetious moments with\n    occasions for the frequent repetition of a favorite conundrum,\n    'Why is that fender like Westminster Abbey?'--a problem with\n    which he never failed to try the wit of any stranger who\n    happened to spend a night beneath his roof. The wainscoted\n    walls were ornamented with several of the popular prints of the\n    day, such as Hogarth's Roast Beef, Prince Eugene, Schomberg at\n    the Boyne, Mr. Betterton playing Cato in all the glory of\n\n        'Full wig, flowered gown, and lackered chair;'\n\n    of the royal Mandane, in the person of Mrs. Mountain,\n    strutting among the arbors of her Persian palace in a lofty\n    _t\u00eate_ and hooped petticoat. There were also some family\n    drawings done by Mrs. Daly in her school-days, of which we\n    feel no inclination to say more than that they were prettily\n    framed. In justice to the fair artist, it should also be\n    mentioned that, contrary to the established practice, her\n    sketches were never retouched by the hand of her master, a\n    fact which Mr. Daly was fond of insinuating, and which no\n    one who saw the pictures was tempted to call in question. A\n    small book-case, with the edges of the shelves handsomely\n    gilded, was suspended in one corner of the room, and, on\n    examination, might be found to contain a considerable number\n    of works on Irish history, for which study Mr. Daly had\n    a national predilection, a circumstance much deplored by\n    all the impatient listeners in his neighborhood, and (some\n    people hinted) in his own household; some religious books,\n    and a few volumes on cookery and farming. The space over the\n    lofty chimney-piece was assigned to some ornaments of a more\n    startling description. A gun-rack, on which were suspended a\n    long shore gun, a brass-barreled blunderbuss, a cutlass, and a\n    case of horse-pistols, manifested Mr. Daly's determination to\n    maintain, if necessary, by force of arms, his claim to the fair\n    possessions which his honest industry had acquired.\n\n    \"'Kyrle,' said Mr. Daly, putting his fork into a breast of cold\n    goose, and looking at his son, 'you had better let me put a\n    little goose (with an emphasis) on your plate. You know you are\n    going a-wooing to-day.'\n\n    \"The young gentleman appeared not to hear him. Mrs. Daly, who\n    understood more intimately the nature of her son's reflections,\n    deprecated, by a significant look at her husband, the\n    continuance of any raillery upon so delicate a subject.\n\n    \"'Kyrle, some coffee?' said the lady of the house; but without\n    being more successful in awakening the attention of the young\n    gentleman.\n\n    \"Mr. Daly winked at his wife.\n\n    \"'Kyrle!' he called aloud, in a tone against which even a\n    lover's absence was not proof, 'do you hear what your mother\n    says?'\n\n    \"'I ask pardon, sir--I was absent--I--what were you saying,\n    mother?'\n\n    \"'She was saying,' continued Mr. Daly, with a smile, 'that you\n    were manufacturing a fine speech for Anna Chute, and that you\n    were just meditating whether you should deliver it on your\n    knees or out of brief, as if you were addressing the bench in\n    the Four Courts.'\n\n    \"'For shame, my dear! Never mind him, Kyrle; I said no such\n    thing. I wonder how you can say that, my dear, and the children\n    listening.'\n\n    \"'Pooh! the little angels are too busy and too innocent to pay\n    us any attention,' said Mr. Daly, lowering his voice, however.\n    'But, speaking seriously, my boy, you take this affair too\n    deeply to heart; and whether it be in our pursuit of wealth,\n    or fame, or even in love itself, an extreme solicitude to be\n    successful is the surest means of defeating its own object.\n    Besides, it argues an unquiet and unresigned condition. I have\n    had a little experience, you know, in affairs of this kind,' he\n    added, smiling and glancing at his fair helpmate, who blushed\n    with the simplicity of a young girl.\n\n    \"'Ah sir!' said Kyrle, as he drew nearer to the breakfast-table\n    with a magnanimous affectation of cheerfulness, 'I fear I have\n    not so good a ground for hope as you may have had. It is very\n    easy, sir, for one to be resigned to disappointment, when he is\n    certain of success.'\n\n    \"'Why, I was not bidden to despair indeed,' said Mr. Daly,\n    extending his hand to his wife, while they exchanged a quiet\n    smile, which had in it an expression of tenderness and of\n    melancholy remembrance.\n\n    \"'I have, I believe, been more fortunate than more deserving\n    persons. I have never been vexed with useless fears in my\n    wooing days, nor with vain regrets when those days were ended.\n    I do not know, my dear lad, what hopes you have formed, or\n    what prospects you may have shaped out of the future; but I\n    will not wish you a better fortune than that you may as nearly\n    approach to their accomplishment as I have done, and that time\n    may deal as fairly with you as he has done with your father.'\n    After saying this, Mr. Daly leaned forward on the table, with\n    his temple supported by one finger, and glanced alternately\n    from his children to his wife while he sang in a low tone the\n    following verse of a popular song:\n\n        'How should I love the pretty creatures,\n          While round my knees they fondly clung!\n        To see them look their mother's features,\n          To hear them lisp their mother's tongue;\n        And when with envy time transported,\n          Shall think to rob us of our joys,\n        You'll in your girls again be courted,\n          And I--'\n\n    with a glance at Kyrle--\n\n        'And I go wooing with the boys.'\"\n\nWe cannot close this imperfect sketch of the _Collegians_ without\ncommending the treatment of the humbler personages introduced,\nequally free as they are from that stilted phraseology and broad\ncaricature which too often disgrace Irish novels and so-called Irish\nplays. Poor Eily O'Connor, in all her simple innocence and ignorance\nof the world, is a beautiful creation; and though travestied in three\nor four different forms on the stage, she still holds a lasting place\nin our affections. Her meeting with her discarded lover, Myles Murphy\nthe mountaineer, presents us a scene of touching pathos such as only,\nwe imagine, an Irish peasant could express in his native tongue:\n\n    \"'There is only one person to blame in all this business,'\n    murmured the unhappy girl, 'and that is Eily O'Connor.'\n\n    \"'I don't say that,' returned the mountaineer. 'It's no\n    admiration to me you should be heart-broken with all the\n    persecution we gave you day afther day. All I'm thinking is,\n    I'm sorry you didn't mention it to myself unknownst. Sure it\n    would be betther for me than to be as I was afther, when I\n    heerd you were gone. Lowry Lovby told me first of it, when I\n    was eastwards. Oh ro! such a life as I led afther. Lonesome as\n    the mountains looked before, when I used to come home thinkin'\n    of you, they looked ten times lonesomer afther I heerd of that\n    story. The ponies, poor crathers--see 'em all, how they're\n    lookin' down at us this moment--they didn't hear me spring\n    the rattle on the mountain for a month afther. I suppose they\n    thought it is in Garryowen I was.'\n\n    \"Here he looked upward, and pointing to his herd, a great\n    number of which were collected in groups on the broken cliffs\n    above the road, some standing so far forward on the projections\n    of rock as to appear magnified against the dusky sky, Myles\n    sprang the large wooden rattle which he held in his hand, and\n    in an instant all dispersed and disappeared, like the clan of a\n    Highland chief at the sound of their leader's whistle.\n\n    \"'Well, Myles,' said Eily, at length collecting a little\n    strength, 'I hope we'll see some happy days in Garryowen yet.'\n\n    \"'Heaven send it! I'll pack off the boy to-night to town,\n    or I'll go myself, if you like, or I'll get you a horse and\n    truckle, and guide it myself for you, or I'll do any thing in\n    the whole world that you'll have me. Look at this. I'd rather\n    be doing your bidding this moment than my own mother's, and\n    heaven forgive me, if that's a sin! Ah Eily! they may say this\n    and that o' you, in the place where you were born; but I'll\n    ever hold to it, I held to it all through, an' I'll hold to it\n    to my death, that when you darken your father's door again, you\n    will send no shame before you.'\n\n    \"'You are right in that, Myles.'\n\n    \"'Didn't I know I was? And wasn't it that that broke my heart!\n    If one met me afther you flitted away, an' saw me walking\n    the road with my hands in my pockets and my head down, an' I\n    thinking; an' if he sthruck me on the shoulder, an' \"Myles,\"\n    says he, \"don't grieve for her, she's this an' that,\" and if he\n    proved it to me, why, I'd look up that minute an' I'd smile in\n    his face. I'd be as easy from that hour as if I never crossed\n    your threshold at Garryowen! But knowing in my heart, and as my\n    heart told me, that it never could be that way; that Eily was\n    still the old girl always, an' hearing what they said o' you,\n    an' knowing that it was I that brought it all upon you--O Eily!\n    Eily!--O Eily O'Connor! there is not that man upon Ireland\n    ground that can tell what I felt. That was what kilt me! That\n    was what drove the pain into my heart, and kept me in the\n    doctor's hands till now.'\"\n\nAltogether different in design and scope is the _Invasion_, a\nhistorical novel intended to describe the institutions, manners, and\nways of life of the ancient Irish, and it is much to be regretted\nthat it is so little read by the descendants of that peculiar\npeople, especially by those who turn aside from the difficulties of\nnomenclature presented by the actual history of Ireland. With the\nsame motive that actuated Scott to present the otherwise unattractive\nand obscure facts of the early history of Britain in the fascinating\ngarb of romance, our author, always deeply imbued with love of\ncountry and reverence for the past, sought in this book to give\na complete picture of the public, social, and religious life of\nhis ancestors as it was known or supposed to exist in the eighth\ncentury, before the repeated incursions of the Northmen had desolated\ntheir valleys, razed their towns, and pillaged their churches and\nseats of learning. To most men of a fine imagination and poetic\ntemperament like Griffin, the study of laws long disused and customs\nforgotten centuries ago, wrapt up as they were in a language almost\nunintelligible to modern scholars, would have presented insuperable\ndifficulties; but to him it seems to have been a labor of love, and\nit is a source of lasting regret that his opportunities for research\nwere not in proportion to his diligence. The invaluable records\nof Irish history and antiquities since brought to light through\nthe labors of O'Curry, Pietrie, O'Donovan, and others, were then\nslumbering in the mouldy archives of Trinity College, or scattered\nin inaccessible places over England and the continent; nor are we\naware that the author of the _Invasion_ had such thorough knowledge\nof his native language as would enable him to decipher those ancient\nmanuscripts, even had he the facility for so doing. The barbarous\npolicy of the dominant power, which formerly not only sought to\ndestroy the language of the conquered people by prohibiting its being\ntaught in colleges, but made it penal to allow it to be spoken in\nthe humbler country schools, was equally interested in keeping from\nthe world at large the Irish people's records and book of laws, the\nevidences of their former glory and greatness and the muniments of\ntheir nationality; and even in this advanced age we owe mainly to\nlocal enterprise and private generosity whatever contributions to\nancient Irish history we have been favored with for the last twenty\nyears. The government of England is willing to spend annually tens\nof thousands of pounds sterling to facilitate the discovery of the\nsources of the Nile or to encourage the translation of the high-flown\nvagaries of East Indian poets; font it cannot afford, it appears, a\nmiserable allowance to rescue from obscurity the annals of one of the\nmost ancient and civilized nations of Europe; a nation, too, that has\nthe misfortune to be called an integral portion of the British empire.\n\nThis necessarily limited knowledge of the epoch which he proposed\nto illustrate, while it in some degree unfortunately lessens the\nauthority of the novel in an antiquarian point of view, does not\nimpair its harmony of design, or weaken the moral and intellectual\nbeauty of its entire composition; and even its technical defects\nare, to a great extent, corrected in the edition before us, by the\ninsertion, in the form of an appendix, of the very valuable critical\nnotes of the late Professor O'Curry. The principal figure in the\nbook is O'Headha, (O'Hea,) a young chieftain born on the day of\nhis father's death in battle. It describes the ceremonies of the\nmarriage of his parents and of his own baptism, as introductory to\nhis career. His education is supposed to be conducted at Mungharid\n(Mungret) Abbey, then famous for the number and rank of its scholars;\nand this gives the author an opportunity of describing the monastery,\na description which may be taken as applying equally to the many\nsimilar institutions of piety and learning which at that time, and\nfor centuries before, dotted the then happy island:\n\n    \"Unlike many of the religious foundations of that period,\n    which were constructed, after the national manner, of wood,\n    the college of Muinghairid was a damhliag, or stone building,\n    and its grouted fragments, diffused at this day over an\n    extensive tract of ground, demonstrate the masonic skill of\n    its founders. The religious, who were of the order of St.\n    Mainchin, the founder of the abbey, and of prodigious number,\n    had, as is usual in such establishments, their various duties\n    appointed to them. Some devoted themselves wholly to a life of\n    contemplation and of manual labor. Others employed themselves\n    in the care of the sick, the entertaining of strangers, the\n    giving of alms, and the instruction of the numerous youth who\n    flocked hitherward in great numbers from different parts of\n    the island, from the shore of Inismore, and even from those of\n    some continental nations. Those who were skilled in psalmody\n    succeeded each other in the choir, night and day, which for\n    many a century sent forth its never-ceasing harmony of praise;\n    while far the greater number were employed in cultivating with\n    their own hands the extensive tracts of ground which lay around\n    the convent and the neighboring city. Morn after morn, regular\n    as the dawn itself, the tolling of the convent-bell, over the\n    spreading woods which then enriched the neighborhood, awoke the\n    tenants of the termon-lands, warning them that its cloistered\n    inhabitants had commenced their daily rule, and reminding them\n    also of that eternal destiny which was seldom absent from the\n    minds of the former. The religious, answering to the summons,\n    resumed their customary round of duties. Some aided the almoner\n    in receiving the applications of the poor and attending to\n    their wants. Some assisted the chamberlain in refitting the\n    deserted dormitory. Some were appointed to help the infirmarian\n    in the hospital. Some aided the pittancer and cellarer in\n    preparing the daily refection, as well for the numerous\n    members of the confraternity as for the visitors, for whose\n    accommodation a separate refectory was furnished; and after the\n    solemn rite of the morning, at which all assisted, had been\n    concluded, the great body of the monks departed to their daily\n    labor on the adjoining tillage and pasturage lands.\n\n    \"Sometimes at this early hour the more infirm and aged, as\n    well as the more pious of the neighboring peasantry, were seen\n    thridding their way along the woodland paths to mingle in the\n    morning devotions of the religious. The peasant as he trotted\n    on by his car, laden with the produce of the season, paused\n    for an instant to hear the matin hymn, and added a prayer that\n    heaven might sanctify his toil. The fisherman, whose curach\n    glided rapidly along the broad surface of the river, rested on\n    his oars at the same solemn strain, and resumed his labor with\n    a more measured stroke and less eager spirit. The son of war\n    and rapine, who galloped by the place, returning with sated\n    passions from some nocturnal havoc, reined up his hobbie at\n    the peaceful sounds, and yielded his mind unconsciously to an\n    interval of mercy and remorse. The oppressive chieftain and\n    his noisy retinue, not yet recovered the dissipation of some\n    country _coshering_, hushed for a time their unseemly mirth\n    as they passed the holy dwelling and yielded in reverence the\n    debt which they could not pay in sympathy. To many an ear the\n    sounds of the orison arrived, and to none without a wholesome\n    and awakening influence.\"\n\nArrived at manhood, the future chieftain is duly installed in office\naccording to the prevailing customs of the sept, and henceforth we\nfind him performing all the duties appertaining to his high position,\nincluding his attendance at the triennial assembly of Tara, _\u00e0\npropos_ to which we have an elaborate and highly interesting account\nof that historical gathering of all the estates of the kingdoms into\nwhich the island was then divided. A romantic adventure, ending in a\nlove scene, of course, brings him among the Hooded people, the last\nremnant of those who, rejecting the teachings of St. Patrick and his\ndisciples, continued to practise the Druidical rites in seclusion;\nand, as a consequence, we find a detailed description of the objects\nand forms of that extinct species of idolatry. The invasion itself,\nthe first descent of the Northmen on the coast, successfully repulsed\nby O'Hea's forces, naturally leads to a disquisition on the gloomy\nsuperstition and uncouth manners of those terrible barbarians. Thus\nwe find grouped together, gracefully and artistically, the leading\nhistorical features of the period, the old superstitions and the\nbeneficent fruits of the new faith, the faults and follies, virtues\nand graces of the christianized Celts, contrasted with the physical\nprowess and ferocious temperament of the hordes who were so soon to\ndeluge with blood, not only Erin, but the adjacent isles and the\ngreater part of the coasts of Europe. Strange to say, the _Invasion_\nis the only Irish historical novel ever written, and, as Augustin\nThierry was induced to write his celebrated history of the _Norman\nConquest of England_ by reading Scott's _Ivanhoe_, may we not hope\nthat some present or future writer may be inspired by the _Invasion_\nto give us a detailed and intelligible account of the Danish wars in\nIreland?\n\nThe _Duke of Monmouth_ is also a historical novel, but more modern in\nits character and incidents. It is intended to describe the condition\nof the people of the rural districts in the west of England about the\nclose of the seventeenth century; and the principal events upon which\nthe story depends are the invasion of England by the ill-starred Duke\nof Monmouth, the illegitimate son of Charles II., during the reign\nof the latter's successor, the fatal battle of Sedgemoor, and the\nexecution of the adventurer and his principal followers. The style is\nfaultless, the prominent actors mostly taken from real life, though\nfew are truthfully drawn. Still, we cannot but regret for the sake of\npoetical justice that Griffin chose this subject for a novel, from\nthe fact that the truth of history compelled him to let the notorious\nKirke, who figures so largely in his pages, go unwhipped of justice.\nThe portrait of this infamous soldier, whose vices were proverbial,\nis thus briefly sketched:\n\n    \"He beheld before him a man somewhat over the middle size, and\n    rather spare than otherwise; his features not ill-looking, but\n    marked by that expression of malign placidity which is no less\n    characteristic of the genuine tyrant than all the ogre-like\n    contortions and grimaces vulgarly associated with the idea of\n    habitual cruelty. There was something like a smile upon his\n    lips; but it was a smile that spoke not of benevolence of the\n    heart, and held out no light of promise to the hope of the\n    supplicant. His very courtesy, all easy as it was, seemed the\n    refined dissimulation of a callous nature. There was a kind\n    of sternness in his very courtliness of manner, a severity\n    even in the smoothness and gentleness of his demeanor and\n    discourse, that was more withering than the open violence of\n    the unmasked and ruffian oppressor. At times, too, it was said\n    he could be all the savage; but it was only when the security\n    of his position afforded a free scope to license. His hair\n    was already tinged with gray, though in so slight a degree as\n    to be scarcely perceptible. His complexion had much of the\n    sallowness, but little of the languor, usually acquired by long\n    residence in tropical countries; and, as he stood glancing\n    rapidly over the paper which he held in his hand, it might be\n    judged from the keenness and concentration of his look that his\n    mind, in like manner, had lost nothing of its activity beneath\n    the enervating influence of an African sun.\"\n\nNotwithstanding the fault referred to, the book is one that merits\nattention both as being the production of the author's more mature\nyears and as furnishing us an insight into the modes of life,\nmanner of living, and unreasonable preconceptions of politics and\nreligion of the humbler classes of England at the period immediately\npreceding the downfall of the house of Stuart. The so-called\nreformation in that country, while it deprived the peasantry of all\nthe attractions and consolations of true religion, as well as of the\ninnocent sports and pastimes so much encouraged by the church, left\nnothing in their stead to lighten the heavy burden of labor save\nthe sensual attractions of the ale-house, or the more invigorating,\nif more hazardous, luxury of rebellion. Deprived of the refuge\nalways afforded by the eleemosynary institutions of the monks to the\ndeserving needy and afflicted, the wants of the widow and the orphan\nwere neglected, the poor became poorer and more discontented, and\nthe nobles more haughty and overbearing. The reformers succeeded\nin unsettling the religious faith of the masses, as the wars of\nthe Commonwealth destroyed their ideas of authority and obedience.\nHence followed in rapid rotation the restoration of Charles II., the\ndethronement of James, the Scotch rebellions of 1715 and 1745, and\nmany if not all the evils which have afflicted the people of Great\nBritain up to the present time--evils which have become so glaring\nthat a thousand acts of parliament cannot hide them, and distress,\nignorance, and its attendant vices, so gross and general as to be\nbeyond the cure of the poor-house and the penitentiary. Considered\nin the aggregate, England is one of the wealthiest countries in the\nworld. Individually, her people are the poorest in Christendom; for\nshe contains within her boundaries a larger percentage of paupers and\nthose who live by crime of various degrees than any civilized country\non the face of the globe.\n\nIt was while in this transition state, from \"merrie\" England in\nCatholic times to her present anomalous condition, that the Duke of\nMonmouth, relying on the ignorance and anti-Catholic prejudices of\nthe rustic population, resolved to dispute the possession of the\nthrone with James II., whose only fault, in the eyes of his enemies\nat that time, was his desire to concede some degree of toleration\nto his dissenting and Catholic subjects. Monmouth's miserable\nfailure is a matter of history; but in this book we have likewise a\nglimpse of the feeling of the people who followed his standard, and\nwhich afterward led to the elevation of William of Orange, and of\nthe sentiments which actuated the British portion of that prince's\narmy in his subsequent wars in the sister island. The author also\ngives a very just idea of Monmouth and his subordinate rebels. The\nduke himself is represented as possessing all those exterior graces\nwhich are said to have distinguished the Stuarts, with more than\nall their vices and instability of character--false to his friends,\ncringing to his enemies, superstitious without faith, and ambitious\nwithout the courage or capacity to command success. Fletcher, his\nchief counsellor and best officer, is a keen, hard-headed, but\npassionate Covenanter, a theoretical republican of the Roundhead\nschool engrafted on the antique; Lord Grey and Ferguson are simply\nrespectable adventurers, equally destitute of honesty or brains,\nand worthy instruments in so desperate an enterprise. In comparison\nwith those men, the devotion of young Fullarton to a hopeless\ncause becomes less blamable; and even the ultra loyalty of the old\ncavalier, Captain Kingsly, is respectable.\n\nIn addition to what we have before remarked of the design of this\nwork, there is a feature in its composition which by some readers\nmay be considered a grave defect. The interest which surrounds the\nheroine, Aquila Fullarton, from the very beginning of the tale\ndeepens by degrees until it becomes painfully intense, and the\nscene between her and Kirke, wherein that monster perpetrates one\nof the greatest crimes known to humanity, and she in consequence\nloses her reason, though founded on well-authenticated facts, and\ndescribed with all the delicacy of diction possible, is almost too\nhorrible to receive mention. The necessarily gloomy pages of the\nstory are occasionally enlivened by the introduction of two Irish\ncharacters--brothers--Morty and Shamus Delaney, who, like so many\nof their countrymen, then and since, have left home to seek their\nfortunes, and find themselves in Taunton on the eve of the stirring\nevents related in the novel. Morty, being of a practical turn of\nmind, forthwith enlists in \"Kirke's Lambs;\" but Shamus, whose tastes\nare also pugnacious, but whose ambition is to wear epaulettes, takes\nservice on the other side, and raises a company of ragamuffins not\nunlike that which shamed the redoubtable Falstaff at Coventry. There\nare many exquisite bits of humor scattered through Griffin's works,\nwhich might be quoted as evincing his keen appreciation of the\nludicrous; but we prefer to extract the following address of Captain\nDelaney to his command, for the benefit of our military readers who\nhave neglected studying the articles of war. Shamus _loquitur_:\n\n    \"'Well, I see ye're all here, exceptin' those that's absent.\n    Well, then, fall in, fall in, an' much good may it do ye! An'\n    now attind to my ordhers, an' mind 'em well. Every man is to\n    fight, an' nobody is to run; that's plain enough. Secondly,\n    any man that wants arms, is to fight hard _for_ 'em first, an'\n    to fight _with_ 'em at his aise afther. Thirdly, any booty\n    whatsomever that any o' ye may take in the war, such as goold\n    rings, watches, sails, valuable clothing, an' the likes--but\n    above all things, money--ye're to bring it all to me. Do you\n    hear me?'\n\n    \"'Ay, ay, ay!'\n\n    \"'Very well. Because I'm captain, ye know, an' best judge how\n    it ought to be divided. For it is one o' the maxims of war,\n    that it's the part o' the common sodgers for to fight, an' for\n    the ladin' officers for to have all the call to the booty an'\n    the likes, how 'tis to be shared, an' what's to be done with\n    it. Do ye hear?'\n\n    \"'Ay, ay!'\n\n    \"'An' if there's any thing that's very dangerous--certain\n    death, for instance--as a place where one would be blown up,\n    an' the likes, it's the custom o' war for the common sodgers\n    to have it all to themselves, an' for the officer to give 'em\n    ordhers for to face it, but to stay behind himself, bein' more\n    valuable. Do ye hear?'\n\n    \"'Ay, ay!'\n\n    \"'An' if there be a scarcity o' food or clothin', or beddin',\n    an' the likes, or a dale to do, sech as diggin' threnches an'\n    the likes o' that, then it's the custom o' war for the officer\n    to have the first o' the victuals an' things that way; but\n    the sodgers is to have the first o' the labor always. Do ye\n    understand?'\n\n    \"'Ay, ay!'\n\n    \"'Very well, why. Now, mind the word! Shoulder your picks!\n    Quick, march!'\"\n\nOf Griffin's minor works, included under the titles of _Tales\nof the Munster Festivals_ and _Tales of my Neighborhood_, the\n_Rivals_, _Barber of Bantry_, and _Shuil Dhuv_ are decidedly the\nmost entertaining. The latter particularly, though irregular in\ncomposition, is a story evincing great dramatic power and knowledge\nof the human heart. The dark-eyed hero, if such he may be called, who\ngives the title to the tale, stands out before us in all the enormity\nof his guilt as distinctly as if he had been an actual acquaintance,\nand we venture to say that there are few who have read the book but\nhave experienced that feeling. In this story, also, Griffin departs\nfrom his usual custom of avoiding personal description of his female\ncharacters, and gives us an elaborate picture of his heroine, which,\nwhether it be drawn from life or the creation of his own imagination,\ncalls up before us an image of surpassing loveliness.\n\nGriffin's other tales, such as the _Half-Sir_, _Card-Drawing_,\nand _Tracey's Ambition_, have all much merit, and, though not so\nprolonged as those we have mentioned, exhibit in a greater or lesser\ndegree the skilful hand and rich imagination of the author. The\n_Christian Physiologist_, comprising a series of beautiful tales\nintended to illustrate the use and abuse of the senses, is worthy a\nplace near the writings of that friend of childhood, Canon Schmidt.\n\nAs a poet, Griffin is remarkable for the beauty of his delineations\nof natural scenery, his elevation of sentiment and purity of\nconception. His lyrics remind us of Moore, and are scarcely inferior\nto some of the best of that immortal bard's in feeling and choiceness\nof metaphor; but being somewhat deficient in rhythm, they have never\nfound much favor in the drawing or concert-room, \"A Place in thy\nMemory, Dearest,\" \"My Mary of the Curling Hair,\" and one or two\nothers excepted. Many of his poems were from time to time contributed\nto the London journals, while he was yet a literary drudge in that\ncity; others are to be found interspersed in his novels, and not a\nfew were written to gratify his friends, and were first given to the\npublic when his entire poetical works, as far as it was possible,\nwere collected together in book-form, and now fill a large volume,\nnot the least important of the present edition. We are not aware\nthat he ever attempted an epic or any thing more extended than the\nbeautiful ballad of _Matt Hyland_, of the merits of which we can only\njudge by the fragment which has been preserved, the original having\nbeen destroyed by the author immediately previous to his joining\nthe order of Christian Brothers; nor do we think his ambition ever\nsoared to higher flights than songs and short descriptive poems. The\nmost meritorious of these, or, at least, the one which has obtained\nthe greatest popularity, is the _Sister of Charity_, written on\nthe occasion of a dear friend becoming a religious; and, though\nseveral gifted pens have been employed on the same subject, we know\nof none who has embodied so true an appreciation of the self-denial\nand entire devotion which mark that order--the boast and glory of\nall womanhood. Several of his best pieces, indeed, are written in\nthe same devotional spirit, particularly the following verses, in\nillustration of a seal, representing a mariner on a tempestuous ocean\nwho, reclining in his bark, fixes his eye on a distant star, with the\nmotto--\n\n\n    \"SI JE TE PERDS, JE SUIS PERDU.\n\n    (IF I LOSE THEE, I'M LOST.)\n\n    \"Shine on, thou bright beacon,\n      Unclouded and free,\n    From thy high place of calmness,\n      O'er life's troubled sea!\n    Its morning of promise,\n      Its smooth seas are gone,\n    And the billows rave wildly--\n      Then, bright one, shine on.\n\n    \"The wings of the tempest\n      May rise o'er thy ray,\n    But tranquil thou smilest,\n      Undimmed by its sway;\n    High, high o'er the worlds\n      Where storms are unknown,\n    Thou dwellest, all beauteous,\n      All glorious, alone.\n\n    \"From the deep womb of darkness\n      The lightning flash leaps,\n    O'er the bark of my fortune\n      Each mad billow sweeps;\n    From the port of her safety\n      By warring winds driven,\n    Had no light o'er her course\n      But you lone one of heaven.\n\n    \"Yet fear not, thou frail one,\n      The hour may be near\n    When our own sunny headlands\n      Far off shall appear;\n    When the voice of the storm\n      Shall be silent and past,\n    In some island of heaven\n      We may anchor at last.\n\n    \"But, bark of eternity,\n      Where art thou now?\n    The tempest wave shrieks\n      O'er each plunge of thy prow;\n    On the world's dreary ocean\n      Thus shattered and lost--\n    Then, lone one, shine on,\n      If I lose thee, I'm lost.\"\n\nOf his dramas but one remains to us, _Gisippus_, and enough dramatic\nability is displayed in that to make us regret that Griffin abandoned\nwriting for the stage so early in life. We are inclined to imagine\nthat a young man, scarcely twenty years of age, who was capable of\nmanaging so successfully a subject that required the highest powers\nof Boccaccio, could in his maturer years have effected even greater\nthings. However, we must console ourselves with the reflection that\nwhat has been lost to the drama, we have gained in the excellent\nworks before us; and as the drama is necessarily limited to the few,\nthe world is also the gainer by the change.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[208] _The Life and Works of Gerald Griffin._ 10 vols. 12mo. New\nYork: D. & J. Sadlier & Co.\n\n\n\n\nTHE POPE AND THE COUNCIL, BY JANUS.\n\n\nIII.\n\nOf all arguments brought forward by _Janus_ to undermine what he\nwould term the historical groundwork of papal supremacy, and the\nprerogatives exercised by the successors of St. Peter, none seem\nto have greater weight, or more forcibly convince his admirers,\nthan the long narration on \"Forgeries;\" and hence throughout his\nwork the \"Isidorian fabrications\" play a great _r\u00f4le_. Ostensibly\nthese forgeries are developed at great length with a view of\nmerely overthrowing and combating this \"powerful coalition\" of\nultramontanism, but in reality the arguments deduced from these\nforgeries go far beyond this _avowed_ intention of our authors.\n\nUp to the ninth century no change had taken place in the constitution\nof the church, as they readily admit:\n\n    \"But in the middle of that century, about 845, arose the huge\n    fabrication of the Isidorian decretals, which had results far\n    beyond what its author contemplated, and gradually but surely\n    changed the whole constitution and government of the church.\"\n    (P. 76.)\n\n1st. In our first article (p. 330) we have already pointed out\nthis illogical inconsistency of _Janus_, when assuming a lawful\ndevelopment of the constitution of the church in the first eight\ncenturies; whereas he by no means defines what he understands by a\n_lawful_ development of the _divine_ constitution of the ancient\nchurch. How can he, therefore, decide that the Isidorian decretals\nwrought an entire and unlawful development of the rights and\nprivileges of the primacy?\n\n2d. If the _picture of the organization of the ancient church_ is\nquietly, and as a matter of course, presented as one of _divine_\norigin,[209] we have no hesitation in declaring that picture a false\none, and contrary to the most ancient history of the church. It\ncannot even claim apostolic origin in so comprehensive a meaning\nas _Janus_ would have it. The different grades of the hierarchy,\nestablished between the primacy and episcopacy, is the result of a\n_historical_ development, whereas _divine_ institution can only be\nclaimed for the _primacy_ and _episcopacy_ themselves.[210]\n\nWhat difference is there between bishops as to power and jurisdiction\nover one another by _divine_ right? If patriarchs, primates, and\nmetropolitans have exercised certain prerogatives _greater_ than\nthose enjoyed by other bishops, will _Janus_ tell us that this is\nowing to divine origin? How, then, will he account for the fact that\nno such distinction was universally acknowledged[211] until the\n_third_ century in the east? nay more, that in the west there were\nno metropolitans before the latter half of the _fourth_ century, if\nwe except Africa, and even in this latter country many bishops were\nexempt, and directly subject to the see of Rome?[212]\n\nIt is a notorious fact, though _Janus_ elsewhere so boldly denies\nit, that the bishops of Rome deputed other bishops as their\nrepresentatives in many provinces, who by that very fact exercised\nauthority over other bishops, because to them the popes delegated\nthe exercise of primatial prerogatives. Thus, the Bishop of\nThessalonica is constituted, by the pope, Primate of Illyricum, and\nthe Bishop of Arles, Primate of Gaul.\n\nThere are still many letters of the popes addressed to the bishops\nof Thessalonica as early as the fourth century, by Innocent I.,\nBoniface I., Celestine I., and Sixtus III., wherein instructions are\ngiven concerning the exercise of the _special_ power conferred on\nthem.[213] Hence it came to pass that certain episcopal sees retained\nthat high rank granted to their first incumbents, either as primates\nor metropolitans, after having acted in the beginning in the quality\nof apostolic legates. St. Leo the Great, in his letter to Anastasius\nof Thessalonica, says:\n\n    \"We have intrusted our charge in such a way to you that you\n    are called on to _share_ our solicitude, _not_ possessing the\n    plenitude of power.\"[214]\n\nTo grant to the Bishop of Rome the honor of being the \"first\npatriarch,\" is nothing less than ignoring or setting aside numerous\nand indubitable facts _long before_ the existence of the Isidorian\ndecretals.[215] We should like to be informed by _Janus_ and his\nabettors where the documents exist proving the rights of patriarchs\nas of _divine_ institution? All canonists of any repute maintain that\nthe pre\u00ebminence of rank and jurisdiction accorded to patriarchs,\nprimates, and metropolitans is _not_ due to the episcopate by\n_divine_ institution; but, on the contrary, all agree that this\nis a concession, whether _express_ or _tacit_, on the part of the\npopes of Rome as successors of Peter, being admitted by them to\na _participation_ of their primatial prerogatives. Hence all are\nthe representatives of the primacy, whenever they are appealed to\nas a _higher_ tribunal, and as such can only lawfully hold this\npre\u00ebminence among their brother bishops as long as they do not come\nin conflict with the divinely established order in the church, which\nconsists in the principle that the pope possesses, by _divine_\nordinance, _jurisdiction over the entire episcopate_. Pope St. Leo\nthe Great gives a beautiful portrait of this organization in the\nchurch very dissimilar from that of _Janus_.[216]\n\n    \"The connection of the whole body demands unanimity, and\n    especially unity among the prelates. While the dignity is\n    common to all, there is no general equality of order; because\n    even among the blessed apostles, though sharing the same\n    honor, there was a difference of power, (_qu\u00e6dam discretio\n    potestatis_,) and while all were equally chosen, yet to one\n    was given the prerogative of presiding over the others.[217]\n    From which precedent also arose a distinction among bishops,\n    and with perfect order was it enacted that all should not in\n    like manner assume all powers, but that there be in every\n    province some who exercise the right of _first_ judges among\n    their brethren; and again, that there should be some (bishops)\n    in the larger cities possessing more ample powers, through\n    whom the care of the universal church devolves upon the one\n    chair of Peter, and that in this manner there may never be any\n    separation from the head.\"\n\n3d. According to _Janus_, Nicolas I., by means of the Isidorian\nforgery,\n\n    \"opened to the whole clergy in east and west a right of appeal\n    to Rome, and made the pope the supreme judge of all bishops and\n    clergy of the whole world.\" (P. 79.)\n\nThat \"bold but non-natural\" torturing of the seventeenth canon of\nthe Council of Chalcedon attributed to Nicolas I., is nothing else\nbut a pure fiction on the part of _Janus_. The letter sent by the\npope to the Emperor Michael III. is a document evincing the learning,\nsagacity, and prudence of Nicolas I., in that grave disturbance\ncaused by Photius and corrupt courtiers against the lawful patriarch,\nIgnatius of Constantinople.\n\nWhen the latter, for the conscientious discharge of his pastoral\nduty and vigilance toward a licentious court, had been violently\ndeposed, and Photius, a relative of the emperor, put in his place,\nrecourse was had to Rome to obtain sanction of these proceedings. The\npope sent legates to Constantinople to investigate the matter laid\nbefore him; these in their turn, being partly misled, partly bribed,\nratified all that had been done. Pope Nicolas, upon hearing this,\nexcommunicated the legates and annulled the election of Photius.\nThe latter, seconded by the intrigues of the court, protested\nagainst this act of the pope whose authority he had previously\ninvoked. Hence, Nicolas I., in the above-mentioned letter, reasons\nby _analogy_ that the seventeenth canon of the Council of Chalcedon,\nrespecting appeals to primates or to the patriarch of Constantinople,\nwas in a higher sense applicable to the _Bishop_ of Rome.[218] It\nclearly follows from the canon in question[219] that it merely\nintended to regulate the several instances of appeal for clerics, and\nalluded to the special privilege of appealing to the Patriarch of\nConstantinople.[220]\n\nIn the present instance, however, is it not evident that the\npatriarch could not be his own judge, and, since a final decision\nwas demanded, on whom did this right devolve, we may ask, if not on\nthe Bishop of Rome? A similar and even more striking argument may\nbe seen in the letter addressed by Nicolas I. to the Frankish king,\nCharles the Bald. Rothad, Bishop of Soissons, having been deposed by\nHincmar, Archbishop of Rheims, appealed to Pope Nicolas, who, after\nexamining, caused the bishop to be restored; and in his reasons for\ndoing so sustains, first, the _divine_ right of the chair of Peter\nto receive appeals and to act as supreme judge; and then goes on\nstating that, as the canon of Chalcedon granted the right of judging\nto the primates or to the see of Constantinople, in like manner also,\nand with much more reason, must the same rule be observed regarding\nthe right of the see of Rome. If, therefore, adds the pope, Rothad\nof Soissons appealed to the chair of Peter conformably to the Synod\nof Sardica, this action was perfectly lawful, and there were many\nprecedents for this in history; as, for example, the appeals made\nby St. Athanasius to Julius I. and St. John Chrysostom to Innocent\nI.[221] Here, then, the reader will judge of the _historical_\nfairness of our authors, when asserting that Pope Nicolas I., by\ntorturing a single word against the sense of a whole code of law,\n\"managed to give a turn to a canon of a general council.\"\n\nAre we to believe, upon the sole word and authority of _Janus_, that\nthe whole constitution of the church underwent a change by means of\nthese Isidorian decretals, when so many men, distinguished for their\nlearning and deep researches, have exploded this theory long ago\nadvanced by the Magdeburg Centuriators? It is certainly nothing else\nthan presumption and arrogance to disparage the knowledge and science\nof so many eminent men,[222] who unanimously agree on the following\npoints: 1. That the pseudo-Isidorian decretals were not written with\na view of exalting the papal power, but rather that of the bishops.\n2. That the contents of this collection are, for the most part, taken\nfrom ancient and genuine documents. 3. That the fictitious decretals\ncontained therein are quite generally known, and even these imply\nnothing novel or contradictory to the then established discipline of\nthe church. 4. It is certain that this collection was _not_ compiled\nat _Rome_, and much less known or used by Pope Nicolas as a _genuine_\ndocument of binding force.\n\nIt will be necessary to support these points by a few and, we\nhope, unexceptionable arguments. _Janus_ might have indeed spared\nhimself the pains of such a minute and tedious disquisition on these\nIsidorian forgeries, as many[223] of similar disposition with himself\nmade extensive use of this unauthorized collection of pseudo-Isidore,\nin order to show upon what grounds were based the principles of\nthe present constitution of the church, and particularly that the\nprerogatives exercised by the Roman see rested on these forged\ndocuments. If the power of the Bishop of Rome had no other foundation\nbut the Isidorian forgery, then indeed might we be obliged to join in\nthe triumphant chorus of _Janus_ and his abettors; but the question,\nnot to be misplaced or adroitly shifted, is simply this: Did the\nprerogatives exercised by the popes need these forgeries to establish\nthe lawfulness of their claims? It is to no purpose to conceal and\ncover up, as it were, the principle in question by tedious and showy\ndigressions--whether these decretals were fictitious and whether\nthey were used; but the whole problem to be solved is, Has the\npseudo-Isidorian collection introduced or enforced an _innovation_\nin the _ancient_ constitution of the church, as it was in vigor at\nthat period, or were the principles enunciated by pseudo-Isidore\nconformable to the doctrine of the church and in accordance with the\ncanons of former councils, or not? What does it matter whether one or\nanother theologian, and even a pope, made use of these decretals, not\ndoubting of their genuineness, and consequently deceived, provided\nnothing new and unwarranted by previous tradition was thereby\nacknowledged or enacted? If such a theologian as St. Thomas Aquinas\nwas deceived as to a spurious passage of St. Cyril, and followed\nherein by Bellarmine, is that enough to condemn their whole system or\nto impeach their honesty?\n\nWe might by such a method of arguing overthrow the entire historical\nedifice of the first thousand years of the church, and begin to\nbuild up a new system on this _tabula rasa_ with the aid of this\nhypercritical process of _Janus_ and his school, and we scarcely\ndoubt but that he himself would be in the worst plight.\n\nIt is certainly true that the author of the Isidorian decretals, as\nhe himself avows in the preface, wished to give a complete code of\necclesiastical laws to the clergy, though for the greater part he\ninsists on such points of discipline as were at that time greatly\nendangered and often neglected.\n\n    \"The immediate object,\" says _Janus_, \"of the compiler of this\n    forgery was to protect bishops against their metropolitans and\n    other authorities, so as to secure absolute impunity.\" (P. 77.)\n\nThis should be effected, of course, by the right of appealing to\nRome, and, consequently, making the pope the supreme judge of all\nthe bishops and clergy, that is, of the entire church. These are the\nprinciples that worked their way and became dominant; and that they\n\"revolutionized the whole constitution of the church, introducing a\nnew system in place of the old on that point,\" our authors assert\n\"there can be no controversy among candid historians.\" (P. 79.) With\nall deference to the historical erudition of our authors, we cannot\nrefrain from interrogating history and assuring ourselves of the\ntruth of these grave charges.\n\nHaving once granted that Christ intrusted Peter and his successors\nwith the chief care of his flock--both pastors and people--it is\nimpossible to suppose that in this supreme charge should not be\nincluded the right of hearing appeals and giving final decision;\nfor where could this pre\u00ebminence find any application, if the whole\nchurch be thus cut off from communicating with its head?\n\nThe Synod of Sardica had formally defined this right of hearing\nappeals in several of its canons, as our authors acknowledge, though\ntheir efforts to cancel this ancient testimony and to do away with\nthe binding force of these canons are useless and unavailing; for the\ncanons of the Council of Sardica[224] did nothing more than solemnly\nacknowledge what had been handed down from _apostolic_ times,\nattesting the doctrine of the church as fully practised long before.\nWe may be permitted to signalize two most remarkable and indubitable\ninstances from history. Marcianus, Bishop of Arles, having espoused\nthe heretical doctrine of Novatian, was denounced by Faustinus of\nLyons, and other bishops, to the see of Rome; at the same time\nFaustinus also informed St. Cyprian, Bishop of Carthage, who, in his\nturn, begged Pope Stephen to terminate this affair by his power as\nsupreme pastor of the church, requesting the deposition of Marcianus\nand the appointment of another in his place.[225] Another no less\nconspicuous proof we find in the fact of the two Spanish bishops,\nBasilides and Martial, in which case St. Cyprian[226] approved of\nthe action of Pope Stephen, and saw no usurpation of power when the\nlatter restored Basilides to his bishopric, and only regretted that\nby a false statement of facts the pope was misled and deceived.[227]\nOur argument becomes more conclusive from the following great event\nin the eastern church, where the jurisdiction in the _greater causes\n(caus\u00e6 majores)_ appears in most resplendent light. In the case\nof Athanasius, Archbishop of Alexandria, when the Eusebians,[228]\nsupported by the weak and tyrannical Emperor Constantius, drove him\nfrom his episcopal see, we find, first, that a numerous assembly of\nEgyptian bishops who met at Alexandria appealed to Pope Julius I.\nAfter the Arian Synod of Antioch in 314, Gregory, a Cappadocian, was\nforced on the episcopal see of Athanasius, and the latter, with the\nBishops Marcellus of Ancyra, Lucius of Adrianople, Asclepas of Gaza,\nPaul of Constantinople, and many others, fled to Rome, imploring the\nprotection of Pope Julius, who caused a synod to be held in 343, at\nwhich a great number of _eastern_ prelates from Thrace, C\u0153l\u00e9syria,\nPh\u0153nicia, and Palestine attended. The case of St. Athanasius and\nhis fellow-exiles was examined, and they were declared innocent of\nthe charges brought against them, and reinstated in their sees, from\nwhich only violence and force kept them for some time. Here, then, we\nhave another argument for these high prerogatives exercised by the\nBishop of Rome _four years before_ the Synod of Sardica. Confront\nthis fact with the following passage from our authors:\n\n    \"Only after the Sardican Council, and in reliance solely on it,\n    or the Nicene, which was designedly confounded with it, was a\n    right of hearing appeals laid claim to.\"[229]\n\nWe have to deal with men of far too _evasive_ minds, in the authors\nof this \"contribution to ecclesiastical history,\" to limit ourselves\nto any one point of their argumentation. If, on the one hand, we\nadduce from history long _before the existence_ of the Isidorian\nforgeries, the testimony of such great and holy popes as Innocent\nI.,[230] Zozimus,[231] Boniface I.,[232] Celestine I., Leo the\nGreat,[233] Gelasius I.,[234] and even before, Julius I.,[235] (337\nto 352,) who all claim, assert, and exercise the right of final\ndecision as supreme judges for both east and west, from whom there\nis no appeal, and this, too, in all great and weighty matters,\n(_graviora negotia_,) as Pope Gelasius says; then we are told\nthat this right rests only on the canons of Sardica, and that the\n\"fathers gave the see of Rome the privilege of final decision.\" If,\non the other hand, we show ourselves satisfied with so ancient and\nindubitable an authority as the great Synod of Sardica, why, then,\ndoes _Janus_ resort to the simple _expedient_ of declaring that the\n\"Sardican canons were never received at all in the east\"? Nor can\nhis _bon-mot_, in styling _greater causes_ (in which final decision\nis reserved to the Roman see) an \"elastic term,\" supply the want\nof logic and historical accuracy. A slight acquaintance with the\nhistorical incidents connected with the Council of Sardica[236] will\nat once convince every unbiased mind that the opposition came from a\nparty of reckless Eusebians, who withdrew from the synod when they\ncould not attain their nefarious object, and repaired to Philippolis\nin order to crown their treacherous proceeding by excommunicating\nsuch holy and illustrious prelates as Athanasius and the aged Hosius,\nlegate of Pope Julius, and even the pontiff himself, who remained\nsteadfast in their defence of the Nicene doctrines. And such are the\nreasons, let it be observed, which cause _Janus_ to say that the\ncanons of Sardica were not at all received in the east. What can be a\nmore convincing proof than their insertion into collections or codes\nof law compiled by official authority,[237] having been inserted not\nonly in the Latin collection of Dionysius,[238] under the pontificate\nof Anastasius II., about the year 498, and later in the Spanish code\ncalled _Liber Canonum_, commonly attributed to Isidore of Seville,\nbut also in the _Greek_ collection of canons by John Scholasticus,\nand in the _Nomocanon_ compiled by the same author, who died\nPatriarch of Constantinople in 578.[239]\n\nFrom these premises we arrive at the following conclusions: 1st,\nthat the right of appeal to Rome and her jurisdiction, in all\n_greater causes_, was taught and practised in the church at _least_\nfour centuries before the Isidorian decretals were known; 2d,\nthat the jurisdiction of the pope as supreme judge of the whole\nchurch is triumphantly attested by historical documents of the\nsame age; 3d, that the canons of Sardica acknowledged a _divine_\nright of the bishops of Rome--merely introducing a new _form_ that\naffected the _application_ and _exercise_ of this right, from which,\nhowever, the popes could deviate for reasons of wise and prompt\nadministration.[240]\n\nIn this connection we must briefly notice another charge made by\n_Janus_, namely, that on the fabrication of pseudo-Isidore,\n\n    \"was based the maxim that the pope, as supreme judge of the\n    church, could be judged by no man.\" (P. 78.)\n\nIn this maxim our authors discover the foundation of the edifice of\npapal infallibility already laid. If such be the case, let us inquire\nwhether this maxim was not known before pseudo-Isidore. A synod of\nRome held in 378, under Pope Damasus, declared in a letter to the\nEmperor Gratian[241] that it was sanctioned by ancient custom that\nthe Bishop of Rome, since his case was not submitted to a general\ncouncil, should answer for himself before the council of the emperor;\n_but this was only to be understood in accusations of civil and\npolitical offences_. The highest judicial authority in the church\nhaving been vested by Christ in Peter and his successors, their\nvoice was the judgment from which there was no appeal; neither did\nany bishop or any assembly of bishops receive power over the head of\nthe church. This principle, acknowledged by civil codes in temporal\nprincipalities, was likewise solemnly affirmed by the Roman synod\nin the year 501, which was called by King Theodoric to examine\nthe complaints brought against Pope Symmachus, and to judge him\naccordingly. But behold the declaration of the assembled bishops,\nprotesting that it belonged to the bishop of the apostolic chair of\nPeter to convene a synod; for it was a thing unheard of that the\nhigh-priest of the aforesaid see should be placed in judgment before\nhis own subjects.[242] The bishops pronounced that he was innocent\nbefore men, and left all to the tribunal of God. An apology, written\nfor this Roman synod by the Deacon Ennodius,[243] afterward Bishop of\nPavia, declared that a council on the more important affairs could\nbe assembled only by the pope, or at least must be confirmed by him.\nAnother striking passage illustrating this principle is to be found\nin the letter of Avitus, Bishop of Vienne, addressed to the senators\nof the city of Rome in the name of the bishops of Gaul, as follows:\n\n    \"That the pope, as superior, could be judged by no one\n    according to reason or law; and that if this privilege of the\n    pope be called in question, the whole episcopacy would be\n    shaken.\"[244]\n\n_Janus_ likewise lets Pope Nicolas assert, on the strength of the\nIsidorian forgery, \"that the Roman Church keeps the faith pure, and\nis free from every stain.\" (P. 80.) Now, who does not know that\nbeautiful testimony of St. Iren\u00e6us, according to which \"the whole\nchurch, that is, all the faithful, must be in union with this church,\non account of its more powerful principality; in which communion the\nfaithful of the whole world have preserved the tradition that was\nhanded down by the apostles\"?[245]\n\nThat the words in question employed by St. Iren\u00e6us, _propter\npotentiorem principalitatem_, are by no means capable of the\nconstruction as meaning _greater antiquity_, is clearly demonstrated\nby Dr. D\u00f6llinger.[246] St. Iren\u00e6us likewise concludes from the\nuninterrupted succession of bishops in the Church of Rome by saying,\n\"When, therefore, you know the faith of this church, you have learned\nthe faith of the others.\" St. Cyprian, too, uses the following\nexpressive language, \"He who does not preserve the unity of this\nchurch, how can he hold the faith?\"[247]\n\nTheodoret, about the year 440, calls the Roman see\n\n    \"That most holy see which possesses the supremacy of the\n    churches in the whole world, in virtue of many privileges,\n    and above all others, of this one, that she has always\n    remained free _from the stain of heresy_; nor has any one had\n    possession of it holding any thing contrary to faith, but she\n    has preserved entire this apostolic privilege!\"[248] \"Nec ullus\n    fidei contraria sentiens in illa sedit, sed apostolicum gratiam\n    integram servavit.\"\n\nWe might multiply our references[249] on this point to exhibit\nthe _historical_ fabrications of _Janus_ and his school; but we\ntrust that all judicious and discriminating minds will have come\nto the conclusion, from the testimonies already adduced, that the\npseudo-Isidorian principles have neither changed nor _revolutionized_\nthe _ancient_ constitution of the church, and that the papal\nprerogatives, at which our authors seem so very much incensed, did\nnot stand in need of forgeries--least of all, of those that came\nfrom the \"Isidorian workshop;\" and we, at the same time, apprehend\nthat they will have to go further back--perhaps to the apostolic\nfathers--to trace _another_ history of the constitution of the church\nand the prerogatives claimed by the successors of St. Peter.\n\nAs to the materials from which these Isidorian decretals were\nformed, we may briefly state that they were ancient documents to\nwhich the author had access. In many instances he attributes some\n_genuine_ letters of popes to others than their real authors, and\nmany other spurious documents had already been inserted in private\ncollections, as the brothers Ballerini have demonstrated most\nclearly by their profound researches. Sixteen pieces of this kind\nare enumerated by them.[250] According to the most ancient code,\nthis collection of pseudo-Isidore is divided into three parts, as\nwe find in the _Codex Vaticanus_, n. 630, recorded by Ballerini;\nand in more recent times,[251] this codex being brought into the\nlibrary of Paris, Camus compared it again with four other manuscript\n_codices_.[252] Part I. comprises the fifty apostolic canons which\nwere compiled about the time of the Council of Chalcedon, as is\ngenerally supposed; fifty-nine spurious letters of the first\nthirty popes, from Clement to Melchiades;[253] the introduction to\nthe whole is taken partly from the old Spanish collection, which\ncirculated under the name of St. Isidore, Bishop of Seville. Part\nII. gives, after a brief preface, the false act of donation by the\nEmperor Constantine;[254] two introductory pieces, one taken from\nthe _Spanish_ code, the other from the _Gallic_ code;[255] lastly,\nthe acts of Greek, African, Gallic, and Spanish councils, as the\nSpanish code of the year 683 recorded them. In the third part we find\nanother introduction copied from the Spanish collection, and then\nfollow in order of time the decretals of the popes, from Sylvester\n(died 335) to Gregory II., (died 731.) Among these latter there are\nthirty-five _forged_ letters and several false councils, though, let\nit be clearly understood, in many portions the _contents_ of these\nforged decretals corresponded to _genuine_ documents which the author\nextracted for this purpose.[256] Two councils are falsely attributed\nto Pope Symmachus. All these records of pseudo-Isidore cover the\nwhole field of ecclesiastical discipline; they are partly dogmatical,\ndirected against the errors of the Arians, Nestorians, and\nMonophysites; partly they contain moral precepts and exhortations;\npartly they refer to liturgy, giving the accompanying ceremonies to\nthe administration of the sacraments; another no less conspicuous\npart is the enactments of papal decrees and canons of councils,\nregarding the protection of the clergy against arbitrary oppression,\naccusations, and depositions, the security of ecclesiastical\nproperty, the dignity and rights of the Roman Church, the appeals to\nthe apostolic see, and the prerogatives of patriarchs, metropolitans,\nand bishops. From all this we can infer, that the object of the\nauthor in compiling this code was a very comprehensive one, and he\ndrew quite copiously from the Scriptures, from the Roman pontifical\nbook,[257] the historical books of Rufinus[258] and Cassiodorus,\nthe author of the _Historia Tripartita_;[259] also from the writings\nof the Latin fathers, and from many collections or commentaries of\nRoman law. By a subsequent multiplying of copies, several changes and\nadditions were made during the eleventh and twelfth centuries.[260]\n\nHaving already produced testimonies to prove that the\nprinciples--which are said to have \"surely but gradually changed\nthe ancient constitution of the church\" by means of these Isidorian\nfictions--were known and acknowledged long _before_ pseudo-Isidore,\nwe have thereby made good our third point, and we can fully concur\nin the following conclusion of a learned historian, who says of the\npseudo-Isidorian code:\n\n    \"Had his book been in open variance with the chief points of\n    the prevailing discipline, it would at once have awakened\n    suspicion; examinations would have been instituted, and in an\n    age which possessed critical acumen sufficient to detect the\n    falsity of the title of a book (the _Hypognosticon_) which was\n    circulated under the name of St. Augustine, the imposition\n    would have been detected--an imposition which, such as it\n    really was, lay concealed, because the principles and laws of\n    ecclesiastical discipline of the age corresponding with the\n    contents of the work, they excited no surprise.\"\n\nThat the Isidorian collection was not compiled at Rome, is admitted\nby all historians[261] and canonists of any standing;[262] nor did\n_Janus_ dare to revive an antiquated and unfounded opinion of this\nimport. However, we have to deal with another no less hazardous, nay,\nwe might state at once, _false_ assertion in the following lines:\n\n    \"About a hundred pretended decrees of the earliest popes,\n    together with certain spurious writings of other church\n    dignitaries and acts of synods, were then fabricated in the\n    west of Gaul, and _eagerly seized upon by Pope Nicolas I. at\n    Rome_,[263] to be used as genuine documents in support of the\n    _new_ claims put forward by himself and his successors.\" (P.\n    77.)\n\nIn order to judge fairly of this whole question raised by _Janus_,\nand by others before him, we may be pardoned for premising that the\ncollection of pseudo-Isidore became first known in Gaul about the\nmiddle of the ninth century. The most recent document which has been\ntraced is the Synod of Paris, of 829, from which extracts are made.\nOther researches have led Ballerini[264] and others to suppose that\nthe Synod of Aix-la-Chapelle, held in the year 836, was known to the\nauthor, since he dwells at great length on the rights of primates or\napostolic vicars, which dignity was restored in France, or western\nGaul, after a long interruption, in the year 844. Mention is first\nmade of these decretals at the Synod of Chi\u00e8ssy,[265] in 857, so that\nthe time of their compilation must certainly be assigned between\nthese last-named dates of 845 and 847. We might arrive at a more\nprecise time by the fact that a collection of _Capitularies_,[266]\nmade by Benedict, _levita_ or deacon of Mainz, between the years\n840 and 847, contains entire passages _identical_ with those in the\npseudo-Isidorian code. The only explanation of this similarity is\neither to be sought in the fact that both collections come from the\nsame author, or that the Capitularies of Benedict have copied from\nthe Isidorian code; and in that issue, the latter must have been\ncompiled before the year 847.[267] The correspondence between Pope\nNicolas I. and Hincmar of Rheims attracted general attention to the\npseudo-Isidorian collection, and in this way Pope Nicolas I. was\nfirst apprised of their existence, as is evident from his letter\nto the bishops of Gaul,[268] where he upholds the authority of the\npapal decretals in general, independently of their insertion in\nany collection. The pope mentions the sources from which the Roman\nChurch took its ecclesiastical discipline, alluding to the codex of\nDionysius. The objection usually brought forward, that the pope says\nthat these decretals were preserved in the _archives of the Roman\nChurch_, does not refer to the pseudo-Isidorian decretals, since\nthere is only question of the authority to be attributed to those\ndocuments in general.[269] Hincmar, who had previously appealed to\nthe pseudo-Isidorian collection, later rejected the authority of\nthose decretals which seemed to condemn his own views and position\nin the affair with Hincmar, Bishop of Laon.[270] To leave no doubt\non this head in the mind of the reader, we submit the very words of\nNicolas I.:\n\n    \"We do not unreasonably complain,\" (addressing the bishops of\n    Gaul,) \"that you have set aside the decrees of several bishops\n    of the apostolic see in this matter. Far be it from us of\n    not receiving with due honor either the decretals or other\n    enactments concerning ecclesiastical discipline, all of which\n    the holy Roman Church has preserved and given over to our care,\n    retaining them previously in her archives and in ancient and\n    genuine monuments.\"[271]\n\nA few lines further the same pope exhibits the inconsistency of\nHincmar and other bishops, when acknowledging only such decretals\nas favor their own position, and rejecting others merely because\nthey were not found in the code known to themselves. The principle,\nas though the authority of a decree of the popes or a synod was not\nto be recognized unless it has been received into some code, is\ncombated and the whole issue comes to this, whether such decrees are\nauthentic and genuine. In fine, the pope in this epistle combines\nan extraordinary knowledge of the ancient canons with great force\nof logic and historical accuracy. Our conclusion is that Pope\nNicolas I. has never appealed to the pseudo-Isidorian decretals,\nthough he frequently had occasion to do so. This is admitted by\nthe reformed preacher Blondel,[272] and by Blasco,[273] and, among\nother modern historians, by Dr. D\u00f6llinger, who remarks that Pope\nNicolas I. \"makes no use of the Isidorian collection, adduces none\nof its decretals, and it may be even doubted whether he had seen the\nwork.\"[274] During the eleventh century only, the popes begin to\nquote from pseudo-Isidore. Here, then, we have given another specimen\nof the \"historical fairness\" and \"canonical erudition\" of _Janus_\nand associates; and if our authors imagined that it was enough to\n_impose_ on their readers by the mass of \"original authorities,\"\nthey have indeed succeeded to some extent, and we have but one\nrestriction to make, that is, that they cannot be saved from the\ncharge of _deliberate falsification_. For, singularly enough, and\nmuch to the credit of the historical erudition of _Janus_, let it be\nremarked that there is always something in the authorities quoted\nbearing on the point under discussion. Who is there who does not see\nthat _Janus_ stamps himself as a falsifier of history, whenever he\nmutilates and distorts the contents of authorities quoted by him? In\nconclusion, we wish to allude to one more insidious passage of our\nauthors, when they say,\n\n    \"The spurious character of the Isidorian decretals had been\n    exposed by the Magdeburg Centuriators, and no one with any\n    knowledge of Christian antiquity could retain a doubt of their\n    being a later fabrication.\" (P. 319.)\n\nAlas! Nothing easier than to claim this merit for such _candid_\nand _impartial_ historians as the avowed champions of Lutheranism!\nBesides the doubts entertained by Hincmar and other bishops in the\nninth century, a writer of the twelfth century, Peter Comestor,[275]\ncalled the genuineness of this collection in question. In the middle\nof the fifteenth century, the learned Cardinal Nicolas Cusanus[276]\nand such an eminent divine as John de Turrecremata[277] proved the\nfictitious character of the most ancient papal decretals contained in\npseudo-Isidore; they were followed in these investigations by other\neminent scholars, both in Germany and France, _before_ the dawn of\nthe sixteenth century, and hence no trophies on this field could have\nbeen won by the _historians_ of Magdeburg!\n\nIf, notwithstanding all these elucidations, a certain Jesuit,\nTurrianus, wrote in defence of the pseudo-Isidorian decretals,\nwe do not see how from this fact _Janus_ concludes that the\n\"Jesuit order were resolved to defend them.\" (P. 319.) Did not the\nillustrious Jesuit Bellarmine acknowledge the fictitious character of\npseudo-Isidore? And yet our authors thus boldly continue as follows:\n\n    \"Bellarmine acknowledged that without the forgeries of the\n    pseudo-Isidore, ... it would be impossible to make out even a\n    semblance of traditional evidence.\" (P. 319.)\n\nWe are sorry to say that we have not been able to discover any such\nadmission on the part of Cardinal Bellarmine; but on the contrary,\nwhen answering the objection of the Centuriators concerning the\nfictitious letters of the first thirty popes to Melchiades, we find\nthe following clear view on this subject:\n\n    \"Although I do not deny that some errors have slipped into\n    these letters, nor do I dare to claim for them undoubted\n    authority, yet I doubt not but that they are of very ancient\n    origin.\"[278]\n\nIt was not precisely on the faith of the Isidorian collection or\nits compiler that Bellarmine used any of these documents; but he\nendeavored to demonstrate their authenticity according to the rules\nlaid down by historical criticism. It is simply false that he made\n\"copious use of the Isidorian fictions.\" None deserve greater credit\nfor the clear and elaborate elucidation of this great question of\npseudo-Isidore than the brothers Ballerini, who have supplied an\nimmense material whence the eminent canonists and historians of\nour days have been enabled to weigh every thing carefully, and the\nresult has been a glorious one to _Catholic_ learning and science.\nThe attempts which have been made for three hundred years, and more,\nto create a fictitious foundation for the present constitution of\nthe Catholic Church, and to brand it with the specious appellation\nof _forgery_--these inglorious attempts, we say, have in our days\nbeen renewed by _Janus_ and his deluded admirers. If _Janus_ hoped to\nstrengthen his position by a novel method, we dare assert his signal\nfailure--indeed, our enemies have secured a poor and feeble leader.\nShould the present contribution produce further curiosity, and lead\nto more extended and serious researches on this subject, we are\nconfident enough to express the hope that many unfounded prejudices\nwill be thereby dispelled, and the triumph of _ancient_ and _present_\nCatholic doctrine be hastened.[279]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[209] P. 69.\n\n[210] Thomassin, Vet. et Nov. Eccl. Disc. l. i. capp. vii. xlv.\n\n[211] See Canon vi. Council of Nice in 325, which recognizes the\npatriarchal rights of Antioch and Alexandria, in the east, introduced\nby ancient custom. (\u03c4\u1f70 \u1f00\u03c1\u03c7\u03b1\u1fd6\u03b1 \u1f14\u03b8\u03b7.)\n\n[212] Schelestrate, Eccl. Afric. sub prim. Carthag. Thomass. l. c. c.\nxx. n. 8.\n\n[213] Constant. Ep. Rom. Pontif. Inn. I. ep. 13. Bonif. I. ep. 4.\nCoelest. I. ep. 3. Sixt. III. ep. 10.\n\n[214] \"Vices enim nostras ita tu\u00e6 credidimus caritati, ut in partem\nsis vocatus sollicitudinis, non in plenitudinem potestatis.\" Ep. 14.\nad Anast. Thessal. edit. Ball. tom. i.\n\n[215] The name of _patriarch_ is first mentioned in the Council of\nChalcedon, Act 3, where Pope St. Leo is thus addressed: \"Sanctissimo\net universali Archiepiscopo et _Patriarch\u00e6_ magn\u00e6 Rom\u00e6.\" (Labbe, Col.\ntom. iv.)\n\n[216] Leo M. ep. 14, cap. 11.\n\n[217] \"Quum omnium par esset electio, uni tamen datum est, ut c\u00e6teris\npr\u00e6emineret.\"\n\n[218] Mansi, xv. col. 202.\n\n[219] Cf. canon ix. of the same council.\n\n[220] That is, in the East. Pith\u0153us, Codex Canon. Vetus, p. 102,\n(edit. Paris.)\n\n[221] Mansi. l. c. p. 688.\n\n[222] Thomassin, Ballerini, Devoti, Walter, Philipps, Schulte,\nD\u00f6llinger, Blondel, Luden, Sch\u00f6nemann, the last three Protestants,\nall of whom, says _Janus_, betray a very imperfect \"knowledge of the\ndecretals.\" (P. 78.)\n\n[223] Launoy, Arnould, Febronius, Baluze, De Marca.\n\n[224] Held A.D. 447.\n\n[225] Epist. 47.\n\n[226] See Epist. 45, ad Antonian.\n\n[227] D\u00f6llinger, Church Histor. vol. i. pp. 260, 261, 262.\n\n[228] Named after the ambitious Bishop Eusebius of Nicomedia, an\nardent follower of _Arius_.\n\n[229] P. 66.\n\n[230] Apud Constant. Epist. Rom. Pontif. Epist. 37, ad Felic. col.\n910.\n\n[231] Epist. I. ad Episc. Gall. col. 938.\n\n[232] Epist. ad Episc. Illyr. col. 1038.\n\n[233] Epist. ad Episc. Vienn. Prov. (Baller Opp. tom. i. col. 634.)\n\n[234] Epist. ad Episc. Dardan. (Hardouin Concil. tom. ii. col. 909.)\n\n[235] Epist. ad Euseb. col. 385, ap. Const.\n\n[236] D\u00f6llinger, _Hist. of the Church_, vol. ii. pp. 103, 109.\n\n[237] The code of Dionysius presented by R. Hadrian to Charlemagne,\nknown hence in Gaul as the Codex Hadrianeus.\n\n[238] Biblioth. Jur. Canon. tom. i. p. 97-180. Fr. Pith\u0153us, Codex\nCanon. Eccl. Rom. Vet. pp. 119, 120, can. iii. vii. (edit. Paris.)\n\n[239] Biblioth. Jur. Canon. tom. ii. pp. 499, 603.\n\n[240] D\u00f6llinger, _Hist. of the Church_, vol. ii. p. 229, gives\nseveral remarkable instances of such exceptions.\n\n[241] Concil. Rom. ad Gratian. Imperat. cap. 11.\n\n[242] Mansi, tom. viii. p. 247.\n\n[243] Libell, Apologet. Ennod. apud Mansi, tom. vii. p. 271.\n\n[244] Epist. ad Senator. Urbis Rom. ann. 502. Mansi, viii. col. 293.\n\n[245] \"In qua (Eccl. Rom.) ab his qui sunt undique conservata est ea,\nqu\u00e6 est ab apostolis traditio.\" Adv. H\u00e6r. l. iii. c. 3.\n\n[246] Hist. vol. i. p. 257. If \"potentior principalitas\" signified\nonly _greater antiquity_, how could the church of Rome claim\npre\u00ebminence above the churches of Antioch and Ephesus?\n\n[247] \"Hanc Ecclesi\u00e6 unitatem qui non tenet, _tenere se fidem\ncredit_?\" De Unit. Eccl. p. 349. (Edit. Wir.)\n\nSt. August, in his 43d epist., says of the church of Rome, \"Semper\nviguit apostolic\u00e6 cathedr\u00e6 principatus.\"\n\n[248] Epist. cxvii. ad Renat. Presbyt. Rom.\n\n[249] The very words of pseudo-Isidore on the purity of the \"faith of\nRome\" are literally transcribed from the epistle of Pope Agatho to\nthe Emperor Constantine in the year 680. (Mansi, tom. xi. col. 239.)\n\n[250] De Antiquis Collect, pars iii. capp. iv. Gallandi, Sylloge.\ntom. i. p. 528 sqq.\n\n[251] About 1809, under Napoleon.\n\n[252] _Notices et Extraits des Manuscr. de la Biblioth. Nation._ tom.\nvi. p. 265 sqq.\n\n[253] Died 313.\n\n[254] Which was already known from its being inserted in former\ncollections.\n\n[255] Known in the fifth century. (Quesnel's edit.)\n\n[256] Blondel. Prolegom. cap. 12. Blascus, De Collect. Canon. Isid.\nMercat. cap. ii. Gallandi, tom. ii. p. 100.\n\n[257] Muratori's edit. tom. iii. pars i. Rer. _Italic._ Script.\n\n[258] Rufinus translated nine books of Eusebius, to which he added\ntwo more.\n\n[259] Edit. Ven. 2 vol.\n\n[260] Blondel, Proleg. cap. 18.\n\n[261] See Alzog's Hist. vol. i. \u00a7 186.\n\n[262] Philipps, Compend. of Canon Law, vol. i. p. 52.\n\n[263] The italics are our own.\n\n[264] Ball. Part. iii. cap. 6. n. 13. Galland, t. i. p. 540.\n\n[265] Mansi. tom. xv. col. 127.\n\n[266] Laws of the empire of Charlemagne, divided into _Capitula_ or\nchapters.\n\n[267] Baller. de Canon. Collect. p. iii. cap. cit.\n\n[268] Epist. 42. ad Univ. Episc. Gall. in the year 865. (Mansi, xv.\ncol. 695.)\n\n[269] Mansi, xv. col. 693, et sqq.\n\n[270] Epist. ad Hinc. Laudun. tom. ii. (edit. Sirmondi,) Paris.\n\n[271] \"Sancta Romana Ecclesia conservans, nobis quoque custodienda\nmandavit, et penesse in suis archivis, et vetustis rite monumentis\nrecondita veneratur.\" (l. c. col. 694.)\n\n[272] Prolegom. cap. 19.\n\n[273] De Collect. Isid. cap. 4.\n\n[274] Ch. Hist. vol. iii. p. 202.\n\n[275] Blasc. De Collect. Canon. Isidor. (Galland Syllog. tom. ii. c.\nv. p. 30.)\n\n[276] De Concordia Cath. lib. iii. cap. 2.\n\n[277] Summa Eccl. lib. ii. cap. 101.\n\n[278] De Rom. Pontif. lib. ii. cap. xiv.\n\n[279] The English translation of Dr. Hergenr\u00f6ther's complete and\nmasterly refutation of _Janus_, which we reviewed some time since in\nthe original German, is announced in the English papers as nearly\nready, and will be for sale at the office of this magazine as soon as\nit is issued.--ED. CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SUPERSTITION OF UNBELIEF.\n\n\nWhen an age has abandoned God, sensuality delivers it over, like\nFaust, to the devil, and he becomes its deity. Unbelief is everywhere\nfollowed by superstition. Where the gods are not, the demons reign,\nsays a modern German poet. \"We are ready to believe every thing when\nwe believe nothing,\" remarks Chateaubriand. \"We have augurs when we\nhave no longer prophets; witchcraft when we have no longer religious\nceremonies. When the temples of God are closed, the caves of the\nsorcerers are opened.\"\n\nIt is certainly a monstrous pairing when, with boasted\nenlightenment, fortune-telling, card-divining, and the other\nsuperstitions of darkness go hand in hand. But it is nevertheless\nan old and well-known fact-one constantly demonstrated by human\nexperience--that unbelief is invariably associated with the grossest\nsuperstition. A rapid glance at the history of peoples in all other\nessentials most widely differing from each other will readily prove\nthis.\n\nBeginning with the Hindoos, the oldest people on the earth, we find\nthat A. W. Schlegel has already effectually refuted the theories\nof modern writers on religion by demonstrating to us a steady\nretrogression from the spiritual to the sensual, from belief to\nunbelief and superstition. Dubois, who had spent thirty years among\nthe Brahmins, and studied their philosophy, traces the degrading\nsuperstition into which the Hindoos have lapsed to their having lost\nfaith in the religion of their ancestors. Once their schools taught\nthe maxim, Before earth, water, air, wind, fire, Brahma, Vishnu,\nChieva, sun, and stars, there was the only and eternal God, who had\nsprung out of himself. These pure ideas of religion have long been\nabandoned for an atheistic materialism. A superstitious demonology,\nspirit-raising, sorcery, and magic have grown out of this unbelief,\nand the same people now adore Kapel, the serpent, and Gamda, the\nbird. They observe annually a feast in honor of Darhba, an ordinary\nweed, and offer up sacrifices to spade and pick. To kill a cow is\nby them considered a crime more heinous than matricide, and their\nphilosophers esteem it a great piece of good luck, a sure passport\nto paradise, if they can catch hold of a cow by the tail instead of\nthe head, when dying. \"Modern materialism,\" observes Dr. H\u00e6ffner,\ncomparing the unbelief of the Hindoos with our own, \"has closely\napproached the abyss of Buddhism.\" Manifestations like Mormonism, or\nthe spiritualism of New York, Paris, and Berlin, already suggest to\nus the religious and moral practices of the Hindoos, and we bid fair\nsoon to reach their lowest and vilest forms--the Lamaism of Thibet\nand Ceylon. As in the opening of the present century, admiration of\ngenius led men to adore the poetical genius of Schiller and Goethe,\nso, changing their idols, they will eventually worship those who\nhave deified matter. The Buddhas of modern atheism can only be the\nmaterialistic notabilities of the day; and for this reason a humorous\nwriter recommends Carl Vogt for Delai-Lama, he being not only a high\nscientific but a great political authority.\n\nPassing from the east to the west, we find, and especially in Roman\nhistory, that the increase of superstition has steadily kept pace\nwith the diminution of faith. The religious decadence of ancient Rome\ndates from the close of the Punic wars and the domestic commotions\nof the republic, at which period we first notice that strange\nhankering after what is obscure and mysterious in paganism, and\nwhich attained its zenith under the C\u00e6sars. This remark applies,\nhowever, more to the cities than the country; for, from the days\nof Augustus down to those of the Antonines, the latter had not yet\nbeen so generally corrupted as the former. Sulla, the dictator--to\ncite a few examples--put the utmost confidence in a small image of\nApollo, brought from Delphi, which he carried about on his person,\nand which he embraced publicly before his troops with a prayer for\nvictory. Augustus, who allowed himself to be worshipped as a god in\nthe provinces, regarded it as an evil omen to be handed the left\nshoe instead of the right when he rose in the morning. He neither\nset out on a journey after the Nundines nor undertook any thing of\nimportance during the Nones. When one of his fleets had been lost at\nsea, he punished Neptune by excluding his image from being carried\nin procession at the Circensian games.\n\nAfter the doctrine of Polybius, that religion is nothing more than\na tissue of lies and traditions, began to prevail at Rome, the\nphenomena which usually attend the decadence of a people became\nplainly apparent. Those who are familiar with the epidemic capers\nof the fanatics of that age, who jerked their heads and distorted\ntheir limbs while pretending to utter the will of the gods, will be\nreminded of that moral and religious degradation which has produced\nthe same effects in all countries and times--effects distinctly\nvisible among all Christian peoples into whose life the ancient\nheathenism still enters, or where false civilization once more\ntends to barbarism. The story of Alexander of Obonoteichos shows\nthe extremes to which superstition may lead men. This audacious\nimpostor buried in the temple of Apollo, at Chalcedon, but so that\nthey could be easily found, a set of bronze tablets, promising that\nEsculapius and his father Apollo would shortly come to Obonoteichos.\nHe also secreted an egg containing a small snake, and mounted the\nnext day the altar in the market-place to proclaim as one inspired\nthat Esculapius was about to appear. He produced the egg, broke\nits shell, and the people rejoiced over the god who had assumed\nthe form of a serpent. The news of this miracle attracted immense\ncrowds. A few days later, Alexander announced that the serpent-god\nhad already reached maturity, and he exhibited himself to the public\nin a partially darkened room, dressed as a prophet, with a large\ntame serpent--secretly imported from Macedonia--so twisted around\nhis waist that its head was out of sight, and its place supplied by\na human head of paper, whence protruded a black tongue. This new\nserpent-god, Glykon, the youngest Epiphany of Esculapius, received\nthe honors of temple and oracle service. Alexander became a highly\nrespected prophet; Rutelia, a noble Roman, married his daughter, and\nthe prefect Severian asked him for an oracle on taking the field\nagainst the king of the Parthians.\n\nIf we wish to see how the same impostures are re\u00ebnacted in our own\ntimes, we need only read the accounts of certain evening amusements\nat the Tuileries. There sat one night the Emperor Napoleon III.,\nthe Empress Eugenie, the Duke de Montebello, and Home, the medium.\nOn a table before them were paper, pens, and ink. Then appeared a\nspirit-hand, which picked up a pen, dipped it into the ink, and\nwrote the name of Napoleon I. in Napoleon's handwriting. The emperor\nprayed to be permitted to kiss the spirit-hand, which advanced to\nhis lips, and then to those of Eugenie. This _s\u00e9ance_, and one of a\nsimilar kind at the Palais Royal, where the Red Prince, known for his\nhatred of the church, devoutly watched the ball which Home caused to\nmove over a table, remind us involuntarily of the Jesus-contemning\napostate Emperor Julian, as he followed Maximus, the Neo-Platonist,\ninto a subterranean vault for the purpose of seeing Hecate, and\nlooking credulously on when the former secretly set fire to a figure\nof Hecate, painted in combustible materials on the wall, and at the\nsame time let fly a falcon with burning tow tied to his feet. Fuller\ninformation on this subject the curious may glean from the stories\npublished in the French journals, of hands growing out of table-tops\nand sofa-cushions, which furnish the Paris _\u00e9lite_ with the only\nluxury of terror it seems still capable of enjoying; or they may\nconsult the numerous patrons of the fashionable clairvoyants and\nphysiognomists, the Mesdames Villeneuve, of the Rue St. Denis, as\nwell as the successors of Lenormand, the famous coffee-grounds seer,\ntoward whom Napoleon I. felt himself irresistibly attracted, (though\nhe sent the luckless Cassandra occasionally to prison,) and whom the\nEmpress Josephine held in high esteem.\n\nThe eighteenth century furnishes some striking illustrations of\nour theory. An epidemic tendency to unbelief, like that which\ncharacterizes this century, is without precedent since the dawn of\nChristianity. Its fruits recall the worst abuses of the Manich\u00e6ans\nand the Albigenses. We do not here allude to the thousands of\ninnocent superstitions, which Grimm says are a sort of religion for\nminor domestic purposes, and may be met with in all ages, but to\nthose more glaring ones which show how inseparable are an arrogant\nunbelief and the grossest superstition. Hobbes, who labored already\nin the seventeenth century to undermine the Christian religion,\nwas so afraid of ghosts that he would not pass the night without\ncandles. D'Alembert, the chief of the Encyclop\u00e6dists, used to\nleave the table when thirteen sat down to it. The Marquis D'Argens\nwas frightened out of his wits at the upsetting of a salt-cellar.\nFrederick II. had faith in astrology. At the court of his successor,\nGeneral Bishopswerder imposed on the king by magic tricks, and his\naccomplice, W\u00f6llner, who raised spirits by the agency of optic\nmirrors, became minister. The custodian of the National Library\nat Paris related to Count Portalis that some time previous to the\ngreat revolution books on fortune-telling and the black arts were\nin general demand. Oerstedt speaks of a man who paraded his atheism\nwith great insolence, but whom nothing could have tempted to pass\nthrough a graveyard after dark. Napoleon I. dispatched, in 1812, a\nspecial messenger to Beyreuth, with instructions not to be lodged\nin the apartments which the \"white woman\" of the Hohenzollerns was\nreputed to haunt. In the same way we see by the side of this league\nof unbelieving philosophers spring up such superstitious sects as\nthe Butlerians, whose head, Margaret Butler, with Justus Winter for\nGod the Father, and George Oppenzoller for God the Son, represented\nherself to be the Holy Ghost.\n\nThe alleged miraculous cures on the grave of Paris, the Jansenist\ndeacon, in the first, and the exorcisms of the devil by Gassner, in\nthe second half of the eighteenth century, form another instructive\nchapter in the history of superstition. While the Archbishop of\nVontimiglii, the Bishop of Sens, and other distinguished prelates,\ndenounced the cures performed with the earth from the grave of Paris\nas a cheat, Montegon, the atheist, wrote three volumes to prove their\nauthenticity. While the Archbishop of Prague and the papal chair,\nby a decree of the Congregation of Rites issued in October, 1777,\ncondemned the miraculous pretensions of Gassner, Walter, Leitner,\nand other deistic physicians, upheld them. While the mountebank\nCagliostro, who pretended to have learnt in Egypt the secret of\ngenerating magical powers from reflecting surfaces, was called to\naccount at Rome, the Free-Masons of Holland made him visitator, and\n_f\u00eated_ him in their lodges. The unbelief of the eighteenth century\nreached at last its culminating point during the French revolution in\nthe abolishment of the Supreme Being, though the rites of Mlle. Aubry\nor Mme. Momoro were as silly as the worship of the cotton plucked\nfrom Voltaire's _robe de chambre_. The names in the philosophical\ncalendar remind us strongly of the Hindoo worship of the spade\nand pick, and who knows but some super-enlightened atheist may be\nprepared to subscribe to the Brahminic dogma about the ox, an animal\nwhich has already played a prominent _r\u00f4le_ at a red-republican\nfestival? Burke's prediction has been fulfilled, \"If we discard\nChristianity, a coarse, ruinous, degrading superstition will replace\nit.\"\n\nThis war against faith and every thing spiritual has continued\ninto the nineteenth century, until once more gross materialism is\nfound on every side. Already, during the fourth decade, the darkest\nsuperstition threatened to overwhelm the so-called intelligent world\nwith the manifestations of magnetism. The campaign against the\nsupernatural opened with the trial of the devil. As the Strasbourg\n_Catholic_ satirically observed, the very day and hour had been fixed\nwhen it was required that he should establish his own existence by\ntangible proof. Disregarding the summons, the scamp was promptly\ndeclared _in contumaciam_ outlawed and cashiered along with the\nentire host of unclean spirits. The same summary mode of treatment\nwas pursued with the opposite side, and the same judgment was\npassed on the angels, cherubim, and seraphim. All were pronounced\nto be equally tasteless, scentless, inaudible, and imponderable,\nand declared to be mere creatures of the imagination. Their Lord\nand Master was next put on trial; at first very considerately with\nclosed doors and in a secret inquisitorial manner. The results of\nthe trial were put on record, and for a while imparted only to the\ninitiated, who gradually divulged the news to the masses. At last\nthe spirituality of our own soul was arraigned, and its activity\nexplained as the result of a mere change of matter. The Beelzebub of\nancient superstition was thus exorcised and expelled; but he soon\nreturned to the house which the besom of criticism had cleaned, and\nbrought back with him seven other evil spirits, so that nothing\nwas gained by the proceeding. The age, having cut loose from the\ninvisible, naturally plunged into a most abject dependence on the\nvisible. As the negro races kneel before their fetiches, trees and\nserpents, so this century kneels before sleeping somnambulists,\ndancing and writing tables, and mixtures and nostrums from the\napothecary shop.\n\nShould civilization much longer continue on the present road,\nthe most deplorable consequences must follow. As in all former\ntimes, so in this age unbelief has led where it always will\nlead--to superstition. Man, created for immortality, needs the\nwonderful, a future, and hope. When such a sceptical enlightenment\nas distinguishes modern philosophy has sapped the foundations\nof religion, its absence leaves in his thoughts and feelings an\nimmeasurable void which invites the most dangerous phantoms of the\nbrain. The moment man boldly declares, \"I no longer believe in any\nthing,\" he is preparing to believe in all things. It is high time\nthat so-called philosophy should again draw near to that religion\nwhich it has misunderstood, and which alone is capable of giving to\nthe emotions of the heart a generous impulse and a safe direction.\n\n\n\n\nREFORMATORIES FOR BOYS.--METTRAY.\n\n\nIt needs but a slight glance at the condition of things around us\nto discover, as a consequence of the criminal and most deplorable\nneglect of the moral education of a large proportion of our children,\nthat if they be not already on the broad road to ruin, they give, at\nleast, little hope of becoming useful members of society. This remark\nis intended chiefly, but not exclusively, for boys, whose constantly\nincreasing lawlessness, connected with the steady growth of crime\namong us, cannot fail to awaken the most serious apprehensions in the\nmind of every attentive observer of passing events, while nothing\nadequate to the emergency is offered to check this growing evil;\nyet on the children of the present generation are based our hopes\nfor the future of our country. Every one knows with what facility\nthese young, fresh minds may be guided toward what is truly good;\nfor, though the tendency of our human nature to the descending scale\nin morals as well as in physics is sufficiently evident, the one\nmay be counteracted with almost as much certainty as the other, if\njudicious measures be early taken to give them a right direction.\nThe writer has had much experience in the domestic training of boys,\nand yields the heartiest adhesion to the precept, \"Train up a child\nin the way he should go; and when he is old, he will not depart from\nit.\" This training, however, is not by means of pampering animal\nappetites or self-will, but by inculcation of strict though gentle\nlaws of obedience and self-denial. These habits once acquired, a\nsolid basis is laid for good principles and conduct, and these can, I\nventure to say, _always_ be fairly established within the first ten\nyears of life, which have been justly pronounced the most important\nperiod of human existence, for they contain the germ from which the\nfuture character is formed. A profound thinker remarks, that \"in the\neducation of the family is concentrated the strength of the nation;\"\nan observation which may well be applied to these United States,\nwhere the moral character of every individual, through our system\nof universal suffrage, assumes a certain weight, and thus, to a\ngreater or less extent, influences the best interests of the whole\ncountry. We may here be permitted, in view of the immense importance\nof this education of early childhood, to suggest a hint of a strange\ninconsistency which is scarcely ever noticed in the systems of\neducation adopted to prepare the fathers and mothers of our posterity\nfor their respective callings. Everywhere, even where _moral_\ninfluences are neglected, means are provided for the preparation of\nboys for their career in life; yet, notwithstanding the multitudinous\nvolumes of philanthropy expended upon \"woman's sphere,\" \"her rights,\"\netc., etc., we have scarcely heard of a single well-directed effort,\nbeyond the _chances_ of the domestic circle, to educate young women\nin the supreme, the inexpressibly momentous knowledge of the vocation\nthat must surely be the lot of nearly every one of them. They are\ndestined to be mothers--to train up tender minds for time and for\neternity! To them is confided the most precious of our earthly\ntreasures; for what is untold gold but dust in comparison with the\nwell-being of our children? Why are they not imbued with the most\nprofound respect for the dignity of motherhood, as well as instructed\nconscientiously in its practical duties and responsibilities?\n\nWhen the mother's work is ill done, or, as is but too often the case,\ntotally neglected, of what avail are the labors of the professor,\nbut to make a bad man intellectually strong and more capable for\nthe accomplishment of his evil designs? Who can predict the safety\nof the noblest structure if superimposed on a false or insecure\nfoundation? Knowledge is a power equally available for good or evil\npurposes, according to the direction given by the moral force that\napplies it. May the Almighty disposer of events teach us even at this\nlate day to learn wisdom from the experience of the past. If, for\nexample, a single volume were prepared and placed among the closing\nstudies of the course in girls' schools, embracing instructions in\nthe duties of woman--as mistress of the family, as the wife, the\nmother, whose highest faculties are requisite in the early training\nof children--and if the whole were placed in so attractive a garb\nas to win their love and admiration for these womanly duties and\nperfections, might we not hope that many young and guileless minds\nwould be gained from the mazes of folly ever ready to obscure their\ntrue instincts and affections? Craving pardon for this digression, we\nproceed to the primary object of this article.\n\n    A VISIT TO THE AGRICULTURAL AND REFORMATORY COLONY OF METTRAY,\n    NEAR THE CITY OF TOURS, FRANCE.\n\nThis admirable institution, which has received the highest stamp\nof public approbation in the form of more than eighty kindred\ninstitutions that have adopted its rules and practice as their\nmodels, in France, Belgium, and other countries, was founded about\nthirty years since, by the venerable M. Demetz, at that time a\ndistinguished magistrate, in union with a saintly man[280] whose\nhonored remains repose in the neighboring cemetery. M. Demetz still\nlives to bless and guide this noble monument of his early wisdom and\nbeneficence.\n\nIn the midst of a beautiful and highly cultivated rural district, the\npretty village of Mettray is built in the form of a spacious hollow\nsquare, and consists of some twenty or thirty detached cottages of\nbrick, symmetrically placed on two opposite sides of the quadrangle,\neach having pendent roofs to protect the walls. A circular basin of\nrunning water occupies the centre, and the open space is planted with\nfine shade-trees. Between each of the cottages there is a gallery\nabout thirty feet wide, and roofed to protect from rain the plays\nof the inmates of the adjoining cottages. All are white and of two\nstories, chiefly covered with climbing vines and flowers.\n\nThe entrance is on the side opposite the fine church, which, with\nthe school-house and grounds, fills that portion of the spacious\nquadrangle. On entering, between two houses of larger dimensions,\n(one being appropriated to the use of the director, the other to the\nnormal school, in which the future teachers of Mettray are trained\nin their work,) the visitor is a little startled at the view of a\nlarge ship with all its spars and rigging, moored in the solid earth.\nThis is intended for the instruction of boys who manifest a taste\nfor the sea. The view of the whole is most pleasing. Every cottage\nbears an inscription on its front, which on inspection makes known\nthe interesting fact that each building is the donation of the\nindividual lady or gentleman whose name is inscribed thereon, or of\nsome benevolent association. Thus the expenses of building, usually\nso great as in many instances to render such a foundation hopeless,\nare here readily and piously assumed by various benefactors. The\nmanifest advantages of these separate buildings, each adapted for\nthe occupation of some thirty to thirty-five boys, will appear in\nthe sequel. In the architecture,[281] all is of the simplest kind;\nfor it is thought best not to awaken luxurious tastes or habits\namong a class destined to earn their living by the sweat of their\nbrow. The boys are not crowded together in large masses, but enjoy\na free and open circulation of air, conducive to health and energy;\nand the inmates of each cottage are under the permanent government\nof a director and sub-director, who are regarded as the fathers of\nthe household, and live with them, eating, sleeping, etc., in the\nsame house, and to whom the boys become devotedly attached, and they\nthus enjoy, so far as it is possible, the blessing of the family\nrelations. Sisters also are there, in their separate apartments\nadjacent to the church, prepared to nurse the sick in the infirmary,\nand to give their invaluable influences and aid, especially to the\nlittle ones, on every proper occasion.\n\nThe village is adapted to receive seven hundred boys,[282] from seven\nor eight years of age and upward. The \"colony,\" as it is termed, is\nchiefly agricultural, but many of the children, from various causes,\nbeing better adapted to indoor employments, are applied to trades,\nand in winter, when the farm work is interrupted, all the boys are\nemployed in the shops, to acquire the art of manufacturing their\nown tools. In these shops, where, as we have said, the boys are\npermanently associated in separate families, they are taught to be\ntailors, shoemakers, carpenters, blacksmiths, agricultural instrument\nmanufacturers--in short, any or every trade that may be made useful\nor profitable.\n\nIn the rear of the village are the farm buildings, the stables,\ncow-houses, etc. etc., with the gymnasium and a small pond of running\nwater for bathing and swimming. Further on is the cemetery, with\nits alleys of cypress and well-kept gardens, (for gardening is a\nprominent branch of industry here;) and we may well imagine that\nnothing is neglected to beautify the surroundings of the honored tomb\nof their first benefactor, and of the lowly graves of the departed\nwho were once their companions. Flowers--beautiful flowers--are\nstrewed everywhere, and with their fragrance seem to hallow the\nsacred place.\n\nNeither walls nor ditches nor any means of restraint or confinement\nare resorted to for the compulsory seclusion of these seven hundred\njuvenile culprits, who have all been adjudged as fit subjects for\nthis penitentiary; yet escape is so rare as to be almost unknown.\nAs we entered the square, the boys, ranging from seven or eight to\ntwenty years of age, were enjoying their midday recreations--leaping,\nplaying, laughing, or shouting at their pleasure. Within a few\nminutes, at the sound of a clarionet, their sports suddenly ceased,\nand a moment later, at a second call, they separated, each to join\nhis \"family\" at its allotted ground, to prepare to march; and then\na lively quick-step was heard. This was the signal of the band,\ncomposed of their comrades most expert in music, who had meantime\ntaken their post near the centre of the square, at which the various\ngroups, joined by their two directors, filed off cheerily, each\nto its home. The musicians then laid aside their instruments and\nhastened after their companions. They partake of their frugal but\nwholesome and cheerful meals in the second story of their respective\ncottages, accompanied by their directors, and in the evening, when\nthe last repast is ended, the tables are expertly suspended against\nthe walls, and a single row of hammocks, which were laid aside after\nthe same fashion before breakfast, are again placed in order for\nthe night. The rooms are perfectly well ventilated, and there is a\ngreat gain in economy from this double arrangement. After each meal\nthere is recreation, and the hour being past, music again recalls\neach family to the square, from which, to the sound of lively airs,\nthey move off in high spirits to their various employments. Here goes\na class of farmers, there are the gardeners, and further on, the\ncarters, etc. etc., all on their way to the farm, while the lesser\nnumbers of shoemakers, tailors, and others turn their steps in the\ndirection of their various shops, and a goodly class wind their way\nto the school. Thus the children are accustomed to repair to their\nallotted labor as if on a holiday. Music salutes their departure, and\nits notes leave a joyous impression on the mind. The lower floors of\nthe cottages are all occupied as workshops.\n\nFrom this brief sketch may be inferred the regularity that prevails\nin the colony. Every thing is done to habituate the boys to a\nwilling and cheerful performance of their duty. No harshness is\npermitted that might again chill these young hearts, that have once\nbeen abandoned to vice before they were capable of discrimination.\nThe system of rewards is quite original, and serves its purpose\nadmirably. For grave offences confinement in a cell is the only\npunishment found necessary. Lying is regarded as the worst of faults.\n\nWithin the narrow limits prescribed for this article it would be\nimpossible to give any adequate account of an institution which,\nwherever it is known, is recognized as being equalled only by such\nothers as most closely obey its spirit and maxims. Its founders\nhave aimed, so far as possible, to restore and cultivate the family\naffections, prematurely shattered through vicious examples, by\ndividing, as we have seen, into groups this large mass of youthful\nhumanity, and forming them into families under regulations tending\nto establish a sincere and lasting attachment among its members.\nIn their respective cottages they live and work together, in the\ninterchange of mutual kindness and regard, and are inspired with\nthe idea that each, in a certain sense, is responsible for the good\nconduct, the respectability, the happiness, of his brothers. The\never-ready sympathy and motherly counsels of the sisters must not be\nforgotten. The directors at Mettray are, thus far, laymen; but in\nmany other like institutions it has been found impossible to dispense\nwith the aid of religious orders. In this country we should be\nobliged to have recourse to them for want of laymen possessed of the\nneedful qualifications; for they must give their entire lives to the\nwork.\n\nThe success achieved by this institution during its thirty years'\nexistence in the entire reformation of the youths subjected to its\nwise and wholesome discipline, is unexampled. The statistical tables\nof France, unsurpassed in exactness, inform us that an average of\n96.81% of the youth brought up at Mettray are restored to society,\nthoroughly reformed, and continue to fulfil their parts in life as\nuseful citizens. They are usually detained in the colony to the\nage of twenty-one, when suitable situations having been provided,\naccording to the trade of each, they are allowed to depart. Still, a\nsort of guardianship is maintained for years over those within reach;\nand the young men who find employment among the neighboring farmers\nare expected to pass the Sundays at their old home; a privilege which\nthey relish in the highest degree. Nearly half their number engage in\nagricultural work. Others enter the army or navy, in both of which\nseveral have attained honorable distinction. Many are married, and\npresent good examples in domestic life. An honorary association has\nbeen formed, which affords additional incentives to good conduct\nafter leaving Mettray. Two years of an irreproachable life entitles\neach who merits it to a diploma; and this secures him a membership.\n\nIt is really difficult to do justice to this admirable institution\nwithout being suspected of exaggeration. To understand the\nwonder-working power of the wisdom that pervades it, that transforms\nthe juvenile criminal into a sober-minded, industrious, and devout\nman, it must be seen and closely scrutinized. Christian education has\ntaken the place of the penal code, and the boy is \"trained in the way\nhe should go,\" on the firm basis of religious principles of faith and\npractice. The general expression beaming on every countenance, of\ncheerful confidence, even of the gentle and affectionate temper that\nprevails, affords an affecting contrast to that of the newly-arrived\nboy, fresh from the haunts of vice. His pale and haggard looks\nbetray evil propensities, as well as wasted health. His little\nheart is already filled with hatred, restrained only by the fear\nthat he betrays, either by attempts at a hypocritical humility or an\nimpudent daring. Years pass on, and this incipient wild beast becomes\nbenevolent, frank, and good.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWithin a few years a kindred institution has grown up, adjoining\nthe village, but skilfully concealed from the public gaze by thick\nshrubbery. This is the \"Paternal Home,\" for the reformation of\nthe disobedient sons of families in the higher walks of life. A\nclose white wall, behind which trees and climbing vines appear, is\npierced in the centre by an equally close door. A small bell-pull\nis touched, and the visitor enters a pretty court laid out with\nflowers and shrubs. Through this the home appears at the distance of\na few paces. We enter a narrow hall, furnished with simple elegance.\nDoors on either side lead into small rooms, containing a bed, table,\nbook-case, etc. Engravings representing some generous or noble action\nadorn the walls. As the youth becomes more docile and studious, a\nsinging bird in a cage is given him for a companion; and, finally,\nhe is permitted to occupy two rooms. During all this period, the\nboy is made to understand that he is the object of the tenderest\naffection of his family, who inflict the greatest pain upon their own\nfeelings in subjecting him to this temporary punishment, which is\nsolely for his own good. Professors attend him, and continue, without\ninterruption, the collegiate course which has been interrupted, and\nhe has the daily benefit of fresh air on foot, or on horseback,\nattended by a professor.\n\nIt must be understood that this sojourn at the Paternal Home is\nunknown to all but the family. M. Demetz alone is made acquainted\nwith his name.[283] To others who approach him, he is simply Mr.\nA----, B----, or C----. Gradually this isolation produces its\neffects--and the intractable spirit in this seclusion begins to\nmeditate, to reflect, to examine himself--to condemn his former\nvices, and to love the studies that alleviate the weariness of\nsolitude. Two or three months usually suffice to effect this\nfavorable change. He finds relief in occupation, and as he carries on\nthe course of the classes he has left, he begins to take an interest\nin competition. Let it not be imagined that this seclusion, though\nsevere, is allowed to affect the health of the recluse. This would be\nentirely to misunderstand the parental foresight of the founder. The\nboys take long walks in the country, each in turn, as we have said,\naccompanied by a professor. They visit the neighboring farms, and\nsometimes enter a cottage on a visit of charity; practise gymnastics,\nor take lessons in fencing and when their conduct is unexceptionable,\nthey are invited to dine with M. Demetz. If, after returning home,\nthey are tempted to relapse into bad habits, they are sent back\nagain, but to a more austere _r\u00e9gime_. Such is the effect produced by\nthis system, at once tender and severe, that very often his former\npupils request of M. Demetz the privilege of again passing a few days\nof calmness in peaceful retreat, or to finish some task that demands\nseclusion, at the Paternal Home. To them, the retreat where they were\nrestored to a sense of duty is really a home of the heart, and the\nhand that raised them up is blessed as that of the father, who spared\nneither severity nor tenderness for their complete restoration. What\nwonder that he is the object of their devoted affection? Is there no\nAmerican capable of imitating such a model?\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[280] Viscount Bretizni\u00e8res de Courteilles.\n\n[281] The church only is handsomely decorated.\n\n[282] Insubordinate female children are confided by the government\nto the care of the Sisters of the Good Shepherd, in their vast\nestablishment at Angers, where they are subject to rules similar to\nthose at Mettray, and with at least an equal success.\n\n[283] The chapel is so constructed that, though each individual is in\nfull view of the altar and the priests, not one of the recluses can\nhave even a glimpse of another. Two brothers once passed some time in\nthis house, and neither was aware of the proximity of the other.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FIRST \u0152CUMENICAL COUNCIL OF THE VATICAN.\n\nNUMBER SEVEN.\n\n\nThe preamble and first four chapters of the dogmatic constitution _de\nFide Catholica_ having been irrevocably disposed of in the public\nsession held on Low-Sunday, are now before your readers and the world.\n\nThe withdrawal of the veil of secrecy from this portion of the\n_schema_ has removed from the eyes of many, the scales of doubt and\nmisgiving, blinded as they were by the repeated statements of certain\nnewspaper correspondents; and as future decrees come to light, they\nwill equally confound the pretensions of the false prophets, and\namply reward the patient hope of the faithful.\n\nThe Vatican Council took a fresh start on the following Friday, April\n29th. In the general congregation of that day, the fathers passed\nfrom faith to discipline, and began to discuss the reformed _schema_\non the _Little Catechism_.\n\nAfter the mass, which was said by the Archbishop of Corfu, the\ncouncil was addressed by Mgr. Wierzchleyski, Archbishop of Leopoli,\nin Galician Poland, who spoke in the name of the deputation on\ndiscipline, of which he is a distinguished member.\n\nSpeeches were afterward made by the Cardinal Archbishop of Bordeaux,\nCardinal Rauscher of Vienna, and by the Bishops of Guastalla,\nSaluzzo, and St. Augustine, Florida.\n\nThe next morning, Saturday, the 30th, the discussion was resumed.\nThe Archbishop of Avignon, and the Bishops of Lu\u00e7on and Parma\nmade some remarks on the general features of the _schema_. These\nprelates were followed by the distinguished Bishop Von Ketteler of\nMayence, the Bishops of Plymouth and of Clifton in England, and the\nBishop of Tr\u00e8ves in Germany; all of whom confined themselves to\nsome particular points of the document. Bishop Von Ketteler, who\nbelongs to a baronial family in Germany, before becoming a chief in\nthe church militant, served his country with distinction as colonel\nin the German army. He must be at least six feet high, has quite a\nsoldierly bearing, and is concise and to the point in his remarks.\nThe last speaker was the Bishop of Seckau in Germany, a member of the\ndeputation.\n\nAs the rules of the council authorize the members of the deputation\nto reply to the observations of the fathers at any stage of the\ndiscussion, the committee avail themselves of that privilege by\nmaking the final speech, which in ecclesiastical convocations, as\nwell as in civil meetings, is generally the most telling one.\n\nAt the conclusion of the remarks by the Bishop of Seckau, the\npresident declared that the debate on the _Little Catechism_ was\nclosed, and that the vote would be taken on the following Wednesday,\non all the amendments proposed.\n\nIn the congregation of Wednesday, May 4th, the Bishop of Tyre and\nSidon celebrated mass in the peculiar and impressive form of the\nMaronite rite. The president asked the prayers of the fathers for\nthe venerable Bishop of Evreux in France, who died in his seventieth\nyear, and survived only two days after returning home from the\ncouncil.\n\nPermission was granted to nine foreign bishops to return to their\nsees. Among them were the Bishops of Arichat and Charlottetown, in\nBritish America. The regular business commenced with a second speech\nby the Bishop of Seckau, who reviewed all the amendments proposed\nin the preceding congregation. The final vote was then taken on\nthe _Little Catechism_ as a whole. Each bishop voted _viva voce_.\nThe term _placet_ was used by the prelates who gave unqualified\napprobation to it; _placet juxta modum_ by those who had some\nmodification to propose, while assenting to its general features;\nand _non placet_ by those who dissented from the measure. The total\nnumber of votes given was 591.\n\nThe _Little Catechism_, which has received no small share of public\nattention, now \"lies over\" till the final seal of approbation is\nstamped upon it at the next public session.\n\nThe general congregations were resumed on the 13th. After the usual\nreligious exercises, leave of absence without the obligation of\nreturning was granted to the following prelates:\n\n    The Bishop of Gezira, Mesopotamia, Syriac rite; the Bishop of\n    Merida, Venezuela, South America; the Bishop of Ferns, Ireland;\n    the Bishop of Goulbourne, Australia; the Bishop of Puno, Peru;\n    the Bishop of Santiago, Chili; the Archbishop of Marasce,\n    Cilicia, Armenian rite; and the Bishop of Mardin, Chaldea,\n    Armenian rite.\n\nThe oral discussion then commenced on the great and fundamental\nquestion _de Romani Pontificis Primatu et Infallibilitate_, which is\ncomprised in a preamble and four chapters, and which forms the first\npart of the dogmatic constitution _de Ecclesia Christi_.\n\nThese four chapters had already passed through several manipulations\nbefore being submitted to oral discussion. First, the text had been\ndistributed to the fathers, who in due course of time transmitted\ntheir observations upon it to the deputation _de fide_. These\nobservations were then maturely examined by the members of the\ndeputation, and a printed report of their views on them was sent to\nthe residence of each bishop.\n\nThe Bishop of Poitiers, in the name of the deputation, opened the\ndiscussion with a lucid exposition and vindication of the substance\nand form of the text. With this lengthy and learned speech closed the\ncongregation of the 13th.\n\nNext day, the debate was resumed. The Venerable Constantine Patrizzi,\nCardinal Vicar of Rome, and, with the exception of Cardinal Mattei,\nthe oldest member of the Sacred College, commenced the discussion. He\nwas followed by the Archbishop of San Francisco, United States; the\nArchbishop of Messina, Sicily; the Archbishop of Catania, Italy; the\nBishop of Dijon, France; the Bishop of Vesprim, Hungary; the Bishop\nof Zamora, Spain, and the Bishop of Patti, kingdom of Naples.\n\nOn Tuesday, the 17th, Archbishop Dechamps, Primate of Belgium,\naddressed the fathers in the name of the deputation. Speeches were\nalso delivered by the Bishops of St. Brieux, France; Santo Gallo,\nSwitzerland, and of Rottenburg, W\u00fcrtemberg. The president announced\nthe death of the Bishop of Olinda, in Brazil, and recommended him to\nthe prayers of the council.\n\nWednesday, the 18th. The Archbishop of Saragossa opened the\ndiscussion, representing the deputation. The other speakers in the\ncongregation were all cardinals, namely, Cardinal Schwarzenberg,\nArchbishop of Prague, Bohemia; Cardinal Donnet, of Bordeaux, and\nCardinal Rauscher, of Vienna.\n\nThursday, the 19th. Cardinal Cullen of Dublin was the first speaker,\nand was succeeded by the Cardinal Archbishop of Valladolid, Spain,\nand by the Greek-Melchite Patriarch of Antioch.\n\nFriday, the 20th. The Primate of Hungary had the advantage of the\nopening speech. The venerable Dr. McHale came next. \"The Lion of\nthe fold of Juda,\" as he is called, looks as _hale_ as a man of\nforty-five, though he is a bishop since 1825. The Archbishops of\nCorfu and Paris occupied the pulpit during the remainder of the\nsession.\n\nSaturday, the 21st. Bishop Leahy, of Cashel, reviewed some of the\npreceding speeches as a delegate of the deputation, and was followed\nby the Bishops of Strasburg, Forli, and Castellamare, Italy.\n\nIntense and unwavering interest was manifested in each of the\nforegoing congregations, both on account of the grave character of\nthe subjects under deliberation, and the eminent prelates that took\npart in the discussion. I wish that, together with the names, I were\npermitted to give also the living words which fell from the lips of\nthese learned and eloquent prelates. They would prove to you that\nthe Christian oratory of the fourth and fifth centuries is re\u00ebchoed\nin the nineteenth, and that it is confined to no nation, but extends\nover the length and breadth of the Catholic world.\n\nThe longest speech yet pronounced in the council was delivered by the\nCardinal Archbishop of Dublin, who spoke for an hour and forty-two\nminutes. Its length was the more remarkable, as Cardinal Cullen\ntrusted to his memory, and illustrated his discourse by an abundance\nof facts and figures.\n\nIt is well known that all the bishops not only have the same faith,\nbut speak the same language in council; and, with the exception of\nthe orientals, and members of religious orders, they wear the same\nepiscopal garb. Yet it is worthy of remark that, in spite of this\nuniformity in dress and language and outward mien, scarcely has a\nprelate opened his mouth from the pulpit when his nationality is at\nonce discovered. He utters his _shibboleth_, which reveals him to his\nbrethren as soon as Ephraim was betrayed to Galaad.\n\nYou will hear a bishop whisper to his neighbor, That speaker belongs\nto the Spanish family of nations. He hails either from the mother\ncountry or from one of her ancient colonies of South America, or\nMexico, or Cuba. How does he know? He forms his judgment not merely\nfrom the little green tuft you see on the crown of the speaker's\n_birettum_ or cap, but chiefly from his pronunciation. He will detect\nthe Spaniard at once by his guttural sound of _qui_, and his lisping\n_placet_, besides many other peculiarities of utterance.\n\nThe Spaniards and their South American and Mexican cousins, though\nmodels of episcopal gravity, have not acquired the reputation in\nthe council of being generally the best models of elocution. Their\ndelivery is said to be sometimes indistinct, and their pronunciation\nso peculiar that, like the rose in the wilderness, they waste the\nodor of their wisdom on the desert air. Gems of thought fall, indeed,\nin profusion from their lips, but they escape occasionally in the too\nrapid current of words.\n\nThere are several bishops of Spanish origin, however, who have\ndistinguished themselves alike by distinctness of utterance and by\na remarkable fluency. Among others, I might mention the Bishop of\nGuamango, in Peru, and the Bishops of Havana, and S. Concezione, in\nChili.\n\nThe next speaker is evidently an Italian. You know it from the\nmusical sentences, which flow from his lips in such a smooth and\nmeasured strain that he almost appears to be reciting a select piece\nof Virgilian poetry. He might seem, were not his classical style so\nnatural to him, to be aiming at making a good impression not only on\nyour mind and heart, but also on your ear. Whenever the letter _c_\nis followed by _e_ or _i_, he gives it the soft sound of _ch_, as in\nour English word _cheerful_; and he is careful to soften down every\nword which would sound harsh or grating. Sometimes, indeed, a prelate\nof another country will adopt for the nonce the Roman style of\npronunciation; but nobody is deceived. Jacob's voice is recognized,\nthough he tries to clothe his words in the form of his brother's.\n\nIt is almost impossible for an Italian bishop to make a speech\nwithout a formal introduction and peroration, either because of his\nrespect for his hearers or for the great classical masters. He may\nprotest he will be brief, but that word has a relative meaning. But\nit must be admitted that, for delicacy and refinement of thought, for\nfecundity of ideas, and clearness of exposition, some of the Italians\nhave seldom been surpassed.\n\nThe prelate now before you, as you can tell at once, belongs to\nthe Teutonic family. He is an Austrian, or Prussian, or Bavarian,\nor perhaps a Hungarian. The German pronounces _g_ hard before _e_\nor _i_, contrary to the usual practice of Latin speakers. He makes\n_sch_ soft before the same vowels, pronouncing, for instance, the\nword _schema_ as if it were spelled without a _c_. Hence the gravity\nof the English-speaking bishops is occasionally relaxed, on hearing\n_schematis_ sound as if it were written _shame it is_.\n\nThe German is more tame in delivery than either the Italian or the\nSpaniard. His colder climate tends to subdue his gestures, as well\nas to moderate his sensibility. He is not so fond of dealing in\ncompliments as the Italian speakers, but goes at once _in medias\nres_. He is generally short and precise, and more inclined to appeal\nto your head than to your heart. At the same time, religious and\nlogical, the sublime superstructure of his faith is built upon the\nsolid foundation of common sense.\n\nIf a French prelate were not known by his _rabat_, he would be easily\ndistinguished by his utterance of Latin. He has a strong tendency\nto shorten the infinitive in the second conjugation, and to lay a\nparticular stress on the last syllable. There is indeed no bishop\nin the council who is so readily recognized by his voice as the\nFrenchman. Every one can say to him what the Jews said to St. Peter:\n\"Surely thou art one of them, for thy speech doth discover thee.\"\nBut, like Peter, he has no reason to be ashamed of the discovery; for\nhis speech is not less pleasant than peculiar. He is no exception\nto the cultivated taste of his countrymen. He is generally well\nunderstood, because he speaks distinctly, and listened to with\npleasure, because to solid learning he unites an animated and a\nnervous style.\n\nFor obvious reasons, a continental writer would be the fittest person\nto pronounce a correct judgment on the style and Latinity of the\nEnglish-speaking prelates of the council.\n\nI will venture, however, an observation. Though the style of the\nAmerican, English, and Irish prelates may have less claim to merit\nfor polish and studied classical Latinity, their discourses will\ncertainly compare favorably with those of their episcopal brethren\nfrom other parts in strength of argument, in clearness of expression,\nas well as in their telling effect upon their discriminating audience.\n\nThe bishops of these countries adopt what is called the parliamentary\nstyle. They are usually concise, and always practical. They are in\nearnest. They look and talk like men fresh from the battle-field\nof the world, who have formidable enemies to contend with, and\ncome before the council well stocked with experimental knowledge.\nThey content themselves with a brief statement of the measure they\npropose, and a summary of the reasons best calculated to support it,\nwithout occupying the council with elaborate disquisitions.\n\nThe number of English, Irish, and American bishops up to the present,\nwho have delivered oral discourses before the Vatican Council is\ncomparatively small. It must not, however, be inferred from this\nthat the other prelates of these nations have all remained inactive\nspectators, for many of them have handed in written observations on\nthe subjects under deliberation.\n\nThe following are the English-speaking fathers who, up to the present\ndate, (June 2d,) have addressed the council:\n\nArchbishops Spalding, Kenrick, and Purcell, and Bishops Whelan and\nVerot, United States; Archbishop Connolly, Nova Scotia; Archbishop\nManning, and Bishops Ullathorne, Vaughan, Clifford, and Errington,\nEngland; Cardinal Cullen, and Bishops Leahy, McEvilly, and Keane,\nIreland.\n\nNone of the Scotch or Australian bishops have as yet spoken.\n\nThree hundred years have elapsed since the close of the Council of\nTrent. Of the two hundred and seventy bishops who assisted at that\ncouncil, only four were from the British Isles, of whom three were\nIrish and one English; and we think it doubtful if these three Irish\nbishops spoke the English language.\n\nThe Council of the Vatican has upward of one hundred and twenty\nEnglish-speaking prelates, representing not only Great Britain and\nIreland, but also the United States, British America, Oceanica, and\nthe East Indies; and should the twentieth \u0153cumenical council be\ncalled within the course of another century, judging from the past,\nit is not unlikely that the English tongue will then be what the\nItalian is to-day--the language of the majority.\n\nComparisons have been drawn between the Council of the Vatican and\nthe United States Congress. Perhaps it would be easier to point out\nthe lines of divergence than those of resemblance between these two\ndeliberative bodies.\n\nAs to the relative ages of the members of the Council and the members\nof Congress, the former are decidedly in advance of the latter.\nI have taken the pains to refer to the _Annuario Pontificio_ for\n1870, which gives the age of nearly all the bishops of the Catholic\nworld. From this book I learn that the oldest bishop in the council\nis in his eighty-fifth year, while the youngest bishop, the Vicar\nApostolic of North Carolina, is thirty-five. The Archbishop of Lima,\nwho was prevented by infirmities from coming to Rome, is the dean\nof the entire episcopacy, being now in his ninety-sixth year. Thus\nwe see that both extremes of age meet on the American continent;\nNorth America having the youngest, and South America the oldest\nrepresentative of the episcopal hierarchy.\n\nOf the thousand bishops now in the church, fully three fourths are\nbetween the ages of fifty-five and ninety-six. The ages of the other\nfourth range between thirty-five and fifty-five. Scarcely half a\ndozen of these prelates are more advanced in years than the Holy\nFather, who yet exhibits more physical endurance and mental activity\nthan any bishop ten years his junior.\n\nSo much for a comparison as to age. Next as to the speeches in both\nassemblies. The bishops embrace a wider field in their discourses\nthan our senators. They are circumscribed by no limits of country.\nThey make laws which bind the consciences of two hundred millions of\nsouls--Europeans, Americans, Australians, Asiatics, and Africans;\nwhile Congress legislates for scarcely one fifth that number, and\nthese confined within a portion of a single continent. Hence, in this\nsingle aspect of the case, the great ecclesiastical synod as far\nexcels the Federal Congress of the United States as Congress itself\nsurpasses the New York Legislature, or this latter the city council.\n\nThe speeches of the Vatican Council are usually much shorter than\nthose delivered in Congress. The addresses of the fathers seldom\nexceed half an hour,[284] except those of the members of the\ndeputations, whose remarks generally embrace a critical analysis\nof the questions before the council and a review of the amendments\nproposed by the bishops, usually occupying about the space of an\nhour. The reason for this brevity is obvious. No prelate would wish\nto be guilty of the bad taste of occupying unnecessarily the precious\ntime of his brother bishops. He is fully convinced, on ascending the\npulpit, that every word he says will be carefully weighed in the\nbalance by a discriminating body of judges, who are influenced only\nby sound logic, and not by plausible rhetoric.\n\nBesides their brevity, perhaps I might also add that the speeches\nof the fathers are characterized by more personal independence,\nsincerity, and earnestness of tone, than those of our legislators in\nWashington, while it must be admitted that public opinion commonly\nattributes to the episcopal character a higher order of virtue.\nYet, apart from this consideration, we may find a reason for this\ndifference in the fact that our national representatives have more\ntemptations to sin against singleness of purpose than the prelates\nof the council. Besides the members on the floor of the House and\nSenate, there are often well-filled galleries ready to hiss or\nto applaud, according to the prejudices of the day, and we know\nhow human nature dreads the finger of scorn and loves the popular\nplaudits. There is a political party which must be sustained _per fas\net nefas_, and though last, not least, there are dear constituents to\nbe pleased.\n\nThe fathers of the council have no such temptations to withdraw them\nfrom the strict line of duty which conscience dictates. All their\ngeneral congregations are so many secret sessions. There are no\nfrowning or fawning galleries to allure or to intimidate. There is no\nparty lash hanging over the bishops' heads; for they have no private\nmeasures to propose in behalf of their \"constituents.\" Indeed, one of\nthe rules of the council requires that every bill brought before it\nmust necessarily affect the general interests of the church, and not\nthe special wants of any particular diocese or country.\n\nThe consoling unanimity which marked the public session held on\nLow-Sunday, seems to have put an effectual quietus on the erratic\ncorrespondent of the London _Times_; for he no longer, like another\nCassandra, utters his prophetic warnings to the council, since the\nfathers, on the occasion alluded to, by a single breath demolished\nall his previous predictions about the threatened rupture of the\nassemblage.\n\nDirected, no doubt, to view every thing in Rome with distorted\nvision, this writer literally fulfilled his instructions. If he\nmet bishops walking to St. Peter's, he would despise them as a\ncontemptible set. Should they prefer to ride, they were, in his\nestimation, pampered prelates crushing poor pedestrians under their\nJuggernaut. Should a _schema_ be approved by the bishops after a\nbrief discussion, they were pronounced by our seer a packed jury,\nthe obsequious slaves of the pope. If the discussion happened to be\nprolonged, he would solemnly announce to his readers the existence of\nan incipient schism among the fathers. The truth is, the gentleman\ncould never ascend high enough to comprehend the true character of\nthe bishops. He could not associate in his mind independence of\nthought and the fullest freedom of debate with a profound reverence\nfor the Holy Father.\n\nUpon every question, from the beginning of the council, there has\nbeen prolonged and animated discussion. A council necessarily\nsupposes discussion ever since that of Jerusalem. Deprive an\n\u0153cumenical synod of the privilege of debate, and you strip it at\nonce of its true character and the bishops of their manhood. No stone\nwas left unturned that the whole truth might be brought to light.\n\nBut if there has been \"_in dubiis libertas_,\" there has been also\n\"_in necessariis unitas_.\" There is no Colenso in the Council of\nthe Vatican. With regard to doctrines of the Catholic faith already\npromulgated, there has not been a whisper of dissent. A bishop might\nas well attempt to pull down the immortal dome of Michael Angelo\nsuspended over his head, as touch with profane hands a single stone\nof the glorious edifice of Catholic faith.\n\nThere has been also \"_in omnibus caritas_.\" Never was more dignity\nmanifest in any deliberative assembly. A single glance at the council\nin session, from one of the side galleries, would at once impress the\nbeholder not only with the majesty of the spectacle, but also with\nthe mutual respect which the members exhibit toward each other, and\nthe patient attention with which the speakers are listened to, often\nunder a trying ordeal of several hours' continuous session. As for\nviolent scenes, there have been none, except in the imagination of\nsome correspondents; nor bantering, nor personalities; nor collisions\nbetween the presidents and speakers. Since the commencement of the\ndiscussion on the present _schema_, upward of sixty fathers have\nalready spoken, only one of whom was called to order--and he at the\nend of his discourse, because, in the judgment of the president,\nhe had broached a subject foreign to the debate. In a word, there\nis learning without ostentation; difference of sentiment without\nanimosity; respect without severity; liberty of discussion without\nthe license of vituperation.\n\nMay 23d, the congregations were resumed. The opening speech was\ndelivered by the Armenian Patriarch. The Bishops of Mayence,\nAngoul\u00eame, and Grenoble occupied the attention of the fathers during\nthe remainder of the session.\n\nOn the following day, permanent leave of absence was granted to\neight prelates, among whom were two Canadians, namely, the Bishop\nof St. Hyacinthe, and the coadjutor of Dr. Cooke, Bishop of Three\nRivers, lately deceased. The council was then addressed by the Bishop\nof Sion, Switzerland, one of the deputation, and by the Bishops of\nUrgel, Spain, S. Concezione, Chili, and Guastalla, Italy.\n\nIn the congregation of the 25th, England and Ireland had the whole\nfield to themselves, the only speakers being Archbishop Manning,\nand Bishops Clifford and McEvilly. Dr. Manning's reputation as\nan English speaker is established wherever the English language\nprevails. His Latin oration in the council, which was but three\nminutes shorter than that of his eminence of Dublin, exhibited the\nsame energy of thought and the same discriminating choice of words\nwhich are so striking a feature of his public discourses. Dr. Manning\nhas a commanding figure. His fleshless face is the personification\nof asceticism. His sunken eyes pierce you as well as his words.\nHe has a high, well-developed forehead, which appears still more\nprominent on account of partial baldness. His favorite, almost his\nonly gesture, is the darting of his forefinger in a sloping direction\nfrom his body, and which might seem awkward in others, but in him\nis quite natural, and gives a peculiar force to his expressions.\nHis countenance, even in the heat of an argument, remains almost as\nunimpassioned as a statue. He knows admirably well how to employ to\nthe best advantage his voice, as well as his words. When he wishes to\ngain a strong point, he rallies his choicest battalion of words, to\neach of which he assigns the most effective position; then his voice,\nswelling with the occasion, imparts to them an energy and a power\ndifficult to resist.\n\nThe next congregation, the sixtieth from the opening of the council,\nwas held on the 28th, the speakers being the Bishops of Ratisbonne,\nSt. Augustine, Csanad and Gran Varadin in Hungary, and Coutance\nin France. At the close, the president announced that the fathers\nhenceforth would meet at half-past eight A.M. instead of nine.\n\nThe fathers assembled again on the 30th. The Archbishop of Baltimore\ndelivered the opening speech, which lasted about fifty minutes.\nHe spoke without the aid of manuscript, confiding in his faithful\nand tenacious memory. He was succeeded by the Bishops of Le Puy in\nFrance, B\u00e2le in Switzerland, Sutri and Saluzzo, Italy, Constantina,\nAlgiers, and the Vicar Apostolic of Quilon, on the coast of Malabar.\n\nThe following day, indefinite leave of absence was granted to\nBishops Demers of Vancouver, and Hennessy of Dubuque, and the newly\nconsecrated Bishop of Alton was permitted to remain at home. The\nArchbishop of Utrecht commenced the debate, being the first of the\nbishops of Holland that has addressed the council; the other speakers\nwere the Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem, the Bishop of Trajanopolis,\nthe Archbishop of Cincinnati, who spoke without notes, and the\nArchbishop of Halifax. The death of the saintly and apostolic\nArchbishop Odin, of New Orleans, was announced. The venerable prelate\nfinished his course among his kindred near Lyons, on the auspicious\nfestival of the Ascension.\n\nThe sixty-third general congregation was held on the 2d of June. The\nspeakers were the Archbishop of Fogaras, Transylvania, Roumenian\nrite, and the Bishops of Moulins, Bosnia, Chartres and Tanes.\n\nAt the close of the session, the death of the Rt. Rev. Thomas Grant,\nBishop of Southwark, England, was announced. Dr. Grant was born of\nEnglish parents in Ligny, in the diocese of Arras, France, November\n25th, 1816, and was promoted to the episcopal dignity June 22d, 1851.\nHe was much esteemed by his English brethren in the episcopacy for\nhis profound learning and solid judgment, as well as for his amiable\ndisposition. He was one of the deputation on oriental rites.\n\nThus far, fourteen general congregations have been held on the\nfour first chapters of the _Dogmatic Constitution of the Church of\nChrist_. Sixty-one fathers have already spoken on the general aspects\nof the question, leaving forty-nine prelates who have declared their\nintention to speak on the same subject. As soon as the draught of the\n_schema in general_ has been sufficiently discussed, the debate will\ncommence on each particular chapter.\n\nAs our readers would like, no doubt, to form a more intimate\nacquaintance with the venerable bishops now assembled in council,\nespecially with those who play a more conspicuous part in its\ndeliberations, we propose in the present number to give a brief\nsketch of a few of the twenty-four fathers who constitute the\ncommittee on faith.\n\nIt is quite unnecessary to our present purpose to speak of the\ntwo American prelates belonging to this deputation, namely, the\nArchbishops of Baltimore and San Francisco, who are well known in\nthe United States, and whose learning, zeal, and piety are not only\ngratefully acknowledged at home, but fully appreciated here, as the\nmerited honors conferred upon them testify.\n\nWe will commence with Aloysius, Cardinal Bilio, president of the\ndeputation on faith, and one of the five presiding officers of the\ncouncil. He was born May 25th, 1826, at Alexandria, the celebrated\nfortified town of Piedmont, which of late years has played so\nimportant a part in the history of northern Italy. His father\nwas of a noble family. At the early age of fourteen the youth,\nalready remarkable for great piety and a maturity of character\nbeyond his years, asked to be admitted into the congregation of St.\nPaul, founded by the venerable Antonio Zaccaria. He was received\nas a student and postulant, and devoted himself to study with an\nearnestness which soon broke down his health, apparently never very\nstrong. He was obliged to suspend his studies for several years. In\nfact, for a time it was thought his health never would rally. At\nlast, however, he did recover, and at once returned to the purpose\nfrom which his mind and heart had never wandered. Having finished\nhis course and received ordination, he was made in turn professor of\nGreek, of rhetoric, and of mental philosophy in the college of Parma,\nand afterward in the university of the same city.\n\nIt is the custom of the religious orders and congregations which\ndevote themselves either entirely or in great part to teaching, first\nby a long and thorough course of study to prepare carefully their\nyounger members for future labors in the professorial chair, and\nthen in their early years of teaching to appoint them from one chair\nto another, through the whole cycle, perhaps. So Father Bilio was\nsent from Parma to Caravaggio, and then to Naples, occupying various\nchairs, and finally was made professor of theology and canon law in\nthe Barnabite College at Rome. His professorships were for the world\noutside his congregation. Within it, his brethren recognized his\nhigh personal qualifications, and elected him to various offices in\ntheir congregation, until at length he was made assistant-general.\n\nRome could not fail to appreciate qualities and talents like those of\nthis learned and exemplary, religious and able man. He was pressed\ninto service in many of the departments for transacting religious\naffairs, and finally, June 23d, 1866, he was named cardinal. He\npresided over one of the sub-commissions of theologians, who studied\nout and prepared the draughts for the council, and he is, as was said\nin a former number, chairman of the special committee or deputation\nof twenty-four prelates to treat of all matters relating to faith.\n\nWith the single exception of Cardinal Bonaparte, Cardinal Bilio is\nthe youngest member of the Sacred College.\n\nFrance, the eldest daughter of the church, is represented in the\ndeputation by Bishop Pie of Poitiers, and Archbishop Regnier of\nCambrai.\n\nLouis Francis Desir\u00e9 Edward Pie was born at Pontgouin, in the diocese\nof Chartres, the 26th of September, 1815. Ordained priest in 1839, he\nexercised at first the functions of curate of the cathedral church\nof Chartres; and in 1845, the bishop of that diocese appointed him\nvicar-general, notwithstanding his comparative youth.\n\nFrom that period, the young priest was ranked among the most\ndistinguished preachers of France, and was heard with great success\nin different cities of that country. His panegyric of Joan of Arc,\nwhich he preached at Orleans, is one of his best discourses.\n\nNamed Bishop of Poitiers under the presidency, he took possession\nof his see in December, 1849. He was then only in his thirty-fourth\nyear, an unusually early age for conferring the mitre in Europe.\n\nBishop Pie directed his eloquence and zeal on various occasions\nagainst two sorts of adversaries: those who sap the foundations of\nfaith itself by reducing every thing to naturalism, both in religion\nand society; and those who attempt to weaken Catholicity by the ruin\nof the temporal power. Against the former the bishop issued three\n_Synodal Instructions on the Principal Errors of the Present Time_.\nAgainst the latter he wrote, three years before the last Italian\nrevolution, his _Synodal Instruction on Rome considered as the See of\nthe Papacy_, in which he ably refuted the sophistries of those who\nsought the demolition of the temporal power.\n\nThose best acquainted with the Bishop of Poitiers say that his pulpit\noratory is characterized by an authority, brilliancy, and force of\nargument worthy of St. Hilary, whose successor he is.\n\nIn personal appearance Bishop Pie is prepossessing. His round,\nfull face without a wrinkle, and his auburn hair, make him seem\nmuch younger than he really is. Though stout, and even inclined to\ncorpulency, he is quick and active in his movements.\n\nHe speaks with admiration of the late Bishop of Boston, with whom\nhe studied at St. Sulpice, Paris. The Sulpician fathers have been\naccustomed to select as catechists in the parochial church some of\ntheir ablest and most promising students. To both seminarians a class\nwas assigned, and the Bishop of Poitiers says that his American\nfriend, afterward Bishop Fitzpatrick, always excelled in his position.\n\nEmmanuel Garcia Gil, Archbishop of Saragossa, in Spain, was born in\nSt. Salvador, March 14th, 1802.\n\nHaving completed his literary studies in his native city, he passed\nthrough his philosophical and theological course in the diocesan\nseminary of De Lugo. In 1825, he entered the order of St. Dominic,\nin which he made his religious profession November 1st, 1826.\n\nHe was ordained the following year, and immediately after the\nresponsible position of professor of philosophy and theology in the\nconvents of the order at De Lugo and Compostello was assigned to him.\n\nExpelled in 1835 from Spain, with all the members of his order, he\nsoon returned to his post at De Lugo, where for thirteen years he\nfilled the chair of philosophy and divinity in the seminary of which\nhe was successively director and vice-rector.\n\nHaving subsequently devoted himself to the more active pursuits of\nthe ministry, he labored with great success in preaching the word of\nGod, and in the administration of the sacraments.\n\nAppointed to the see of Badajoz in December, 1853, he was consecrated\nin the city of De Lugo by the Archbishop of Compostello; and five\nyears later, at the request of the Spanish government, he was\ntransferred to the archiepiscopal see of Saragossa.\n\nAmong his fellow-members of the Committee on Faith, Mgr. Garcia Gil\nhas the merited reputation of being profoundly conversant with the\nwritings of his great master, the \"Angel of the Schools,\" and hence\nis called among them the St. Thomas of the deputation.\n\nAnother prominent member of the committee is Mgr. Hassoun, Patriarch\nof Cilicia for the Armenians. He was born in Constantinople, June\n13th, 1809, of Armenian parents. He passed through his elementary\ncourse in his native city, and completed his studies in Rome, where,\nin 1832, he obtained the degree of doctor of divinity. A few months\nlater, having been ordained priest, and named apostolic missionary,\nhe was sent to Smyrna, where he devoted himself to the Armenian\nChristians of that city. Removed thence to Constantinople, Father\nHassoun exercised the ministry in several churches, and filled the\noffice of chancellor in the archiepiscopal palace. Chosen by the\nprimate as vicar-general and visitor of the diocese and province, the\nyoung Armenian priest was unanimously elected by the assembly of his\nnation civil prefect of the Armenian church, in which office he was\nconfirmed by the Ottoman Porte.\n\nIn 1842, he was appointed coadjutor to the Primate of Constantinople,\nwith the right of succession; and on the death of the latter, in\n1846, he was chosen to fill the vacant see.\n\nOn the 16th of September, 1866, the Armenian archbishops and bishops\nassembled in council proclaimed Mgr. Hassoun Patriarch of Cilicia,\nwith the title of Anthony Peter IX. The holy see confirmed the\nnomination, and decided that in future the patriarchal see of Cilicia\nand the archi-primatial see of Constantinople, which hitherto were\nseparate and independent, should form one patriarchate, under the\ntitle of Patriarchate of Cilicia, with residence at Constantinople.\n\nBy his exertions the episcopal hierarchy was re\u00ebstablished in 1850\nin the ecclesiastical province of Constantinople, and a special see\nfor the Armenians erected in Persia. He has succeeded in building\nin the Turkish capital, and endowing a seminary to serve for the\nwhole ecclesiastical province. In 1843, Mgr. Hassoun founded the\nfirst female convent in the same capital; and we may well imagine\nthe degree of pious audacity that was required to plant this colony\nof virgins in the midst of the sultan's seraglios. This institution\nis devoted to the education of young girls, and to the instruction\nof women abandoning schism. The convent has sixty nuns, who educate\nthree hundred poor girls, besides some resident scholars.\n\nThe patriarch, by an imperial firman, is charged with all the civil\nand ecclesiastical affairs of the Armenians who are subjects of the\nOttoman empire. He gratefully acknowledges the kind disposition\nalways manifested toward him by the government of the Sublime Porte,\nwhich has extended to him every facility for carrying out the works\nof his ministry.\n\nVictor Augustus Isidore Dechamps, one of the most prominent members\nof the deputation _de fide_, was born at Melle, Eastern Flanders, in\nthe ch\u00e2teau of Scailmont, December 16th, 1810. His early education\nwas intrusted to private tutors, under the eyes of his father, who\nwas a laureate of the ancient University of Louvain. He afterward\ncompleted his studies of humanity and philosophy with his brother\nAdolph, who was successively Belgian minister of foreign affairs and\nminister of state.\n\nIn the national movement, from which sprung the independence of\nBelgium, the two brothers, though yet young, distinguished themselves\nas publicists during this glorious epoch of patriotism.\n\nIn 1832, M. Dechamps entered the seminary of Tournai, studied\nafterward in the Catholic university of Mechlin, and concluded\nhis theological course at Louvain, where he was ordained priest,\nDecember, 1834, by Cardinal Sterckx.\n\nHaving soon after joined the Redemptorist congregation, Father\nDechamps made his novitiate in 1835. Five years later, his career\nas a preacher began, and in this capacity he greatly distinguished\nhimself.\n\nAfter the death of Queen Louise of Belgium, in obedience to the\nexpress desire of that pious princess, he was charged with the\nreligious instruction of the royal princes, and of the Princess\nCharlotte. Rev. Father Dechamps was named Bishop of Namur, September,\n1865. Two years later, he was transferred to the archdiocese of\nMechlin, in which Brussels is included; and since the opening of\nthe council he has been elevated by the holy see to the primacy of\nBelgium.\n\nMonsgr. Dechamps has written several valuable works, the most\nimportant of which are: 1st. _The Free Examination of the Truth\nof Faith_; 2d. _The Divinity of Jesus Christ_; 3d. _The Religious\nQuestion resolved by Facts; or, Certainty in Matters of Religion_;\n4th. _Pius IX. and Contemporary Errors_; 5th. _The New Eve, or,\nMother of Life_, all of which have been translated into most of the\nlanguages of Europe.\n\nThe style of Archbishop Dechamps is calm, concise, and profound,\nblended with an attractive unction. His round and pleasing\ncountenance bears upon it the stamp of intellect and energy. Like so\nmany of his gifted countrymen, the prelate of Mechlin unites in his\nperson the mental activity of the Frenchman with the solidity of the\nGerman.\n\nJohn Baptist Simor, Archbishop of Strigonium and Primate of Hungary,\nwas born August 24th, 1813, in the ancient Hungarian city of\nFehervar, which is memorable in history as being the place where the\nkings of Hungary were formerly crowned and buried.\n\nHe pursued his philosophical course in the archiepiscopal lyceum of\nMagy-Szombat, and his course of theology in the University of Vienna,\nwhich honored him with the title of doctor of sacred theology. After\nthe successful completion of his studies, he was ordained priest of\nthe archdiocese of Strigonium in 1836.\n\nAppointed, first, assistant pastor of a church in Pesth, Father\nSimor soon after received a professor's chair in the university of\nthat city, and subsequently filled several responsible positions,\nboth in the government of souls and in instructing the more advanced\ncandidates for the ministry in a higher course of theology.\n\nOn the 29th of June, 1857, he was consecrated Bishop of Gy\u00f6r, and ten\nyears later, on the demise of Cardinal Scilovszky, Bishop Simor was\nchosen to succeed that eminent prelate as Prince-Primate of Hungary\nand Archbishop of Strigonium.\n\nBesides his ecclesiastical eminence, the Primate of Hungary has had\ndistinguished state honors conferred on him. He is the first member\nof the king's privy council. By established law, the ceremony of\ncrowning the king devolves exclusively on the primate. Otherwise\nthe coronation is not considered legitimate. The Bishop of Veszprim\ncrowns the queen. The present Emperor, Francis Joseph of Austria,\nreceived the crown of the kingdom of Hungary from the hands of\nArchbishop Simor, on the vigil of Pentecost, 1867, in the presence\nof an immense assembly of people from all parts of the kingdom. The\nprimate is moreover _ex-officio_ chief secretary and chancellor of\nthe sovereign of Hungary. He is also first magistrate of the county\nor department of Strigonium. Hungary contains fifty-two of these\ndepartments, each presided over by a chief magistrate.\n\nHe has also a seat in the general assembly or parliament of Hungary,\na privilege which is enjoyed in common with him by every Catholic\nbishop of the kingdom. Many other prerogatives were inherent in the\nprimatial dignity till they were swept away by the revolution of 1848.\n\nMonsgr. Simor informed us that the faithful of his diocese number\na million of souls, comprising three distinct nationalities,\nHungarians, Sclaves, and Germans, who speak as many distinct\nlanguages.\n\nThe primate is consequently obliged, in the visitation of his\ndiocese, to employ these three tongues. In corresponding with his\nclergy, whether Hungarian, Sclavonic, or German, he invariably uses\nLatin, of which he is a perfect master, and which, till a recent\ndate, was the common language of the greater part of Hungary.\n\nROME, June 2, 1870.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWe add to the remarks of our correspondent the following items of\ninformation concerning the doings of the council since the date of\nhis letter. Between June 2d and June 18th ten general congregations\nwere held. The preface, and the first two chapters of the _schema_\non the Roman Pontiff, were voted on and adopted; the discussion of\nthe third chapter, was closed, and on the 15th of June the discussion\nof the fourth chapter, concerning the infallibility of the Roman\nPontiff, was opened. At that date, seventy-four fathers had inscribed\ntheir names as intending to speak, and this number had been increased\nto one hundred at the general congregation of June 18th.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[284] The speeches on the _Primacy and Infallibility of the Roman\nPontiff_ have exceeded in length those delivered on the preceding\nsubjects, their average duration having been forty-three minutes up\nto the present date, June 2d.\n\n\n\n\nFOREIGN LITERARY NOTES.\n\n\nWithin the past six months the literary bulletins of France, England,\nand Germany are full of notices of new works on the subject of the\nApostle St. Paul and his writings. One of the latest in England\nis by Dr. Arnold, who--Anglican as he is--takes direct issue with\nan opinion of the French rationalist Renan, which on its first\nappearance gave great gratification to the Protestant world. In his\nwork on St. Paul, Renan said in his flippant way:\n\n    \"After having been for three hundred years, thanks to\n    Protestantism, the Christian doctor _par excellence_, Paul is\n    now coming to the end of his reign.\"\n\nOn this remarkable opinion, Dr. Arnold thus comments:\n\n    \"Precisely the contrary, I venture to think, is the judgment\n    to which a true criticism of men and things leads us. The\n    Protestantism which has so used and abused St. Paul is coming\n    to an end; its organizations, strong and active as they look,\n    are touched with the finger of death; its fundamental ideas,\n    sounding forth still every week from thousands of pulpits,\n    have in them no significance and no power for the progressive\n    thought of humanity. But the reign of the real St. Paul is only\n    beginning; his fundamental ideas, disengaged from the elaborate\n    misconceptions with which Protestantism has overlaid them, will\n    have an influence in the future greater than any which they\n    have yet had--an influence proportioned to their correspondence\n    with a number of the deepest and most permanent facts of human\n    nature itself.\"--_From St. Paul and Protestantism, by Matthew\n    Arnold._\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nOne of the most important events of the reign of Louis XIV., and,\nindeed, in the entire religious history of France, was the assembly\nof the clergy of France in the year 1682. Numerous works have been\nwritten and published concerning it, the best and most exhaustive of\nwhich are the two last. In 1868, M. Charles G\u00e9rin, a judge of the\nCivil Tribunal of the Seine, published his _Recherches Historiques\nsur l'Assembl\u00e9e du Clerg\u00e9 de France de 1682_. The author brought\nto his task great learning, decided ability, and an industry that\nproved itself by the number of original documents from the public\narchives for the first time presented by him. The result of M.\nG\u00e9rin's labors was generally accepted in France as final. With\nthis verdict, however, Monseigneur Maret, Bishop of Sura, did not\nagree, and protested against it in his work, _Du Concile et de la\nPaix religieuse_, intimating therein that the documents cited in\nM. G\u00e9rin's book needed fresh revision and interpretation, which\nthey should receive. This announcement was naturally accepted as\nsignifying that a new work on the assembly of 1682 might be looked\nfor. That was indeed its signification, and early in 1870 appeared\nan announcement of the publishers, Didier & Co., Paris, of a book\nentitled, _L'Assembl\u00e9e du Clerg\u00e9 de France de 1682 d'apr\u00e8s des\ndocuments dont un grand nombre inconnus jusqu'\u00e0 ce jour_. Par l'Abb\u00e9\nJules-Th\u00e9odose Loyson, Docteur et Professeur en Sorbonne. 8vo,\n530 pages. To this, Judge G\u00e9rin soon replied in his _Une Nouvelle\nApologie du Gallicanisme, R\u00e9ponse \u00e0 M. l'Abb\u00e9 Loyson_. Outside of the\nhistorical statements concerning the events attending the assembly\nof 1682, these works are, in fact, a rather animated polemical\ndiscussion of the questions of the temporal power and the papal\ninfallibility.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWhen St. Patrick entered upon his great apostolic work in Ireland,\nhe was careful not to offend the attachment borne by his converts\nto their ancient national traditions, the songs of their bards, and\nthe laws by which they were governed. On the contrary, he advised\nLacighaise, king of the country, to have reduced to writing all the\nancient judicial decisions, and, with the aid of two other bishops,\ncommenced the work himself. To the body of laws thus collected was\ngiven the title of _Senchus Mor_, (collection of ancient knowledge.)\nWritten A.D. 440, this book served as the Irish code before the\ndeparture of the Romans, and was in legal force up to the period of\nthe accession of James I., traces of its influence being to this\nday plainly visible. The most authentic manuscripts containing the\n_Senchus Mor_ formerly belonged to an English literary amateur, and\nthrough the efforts of Edmund Burke were acquired by the English\ngovernment. Their publication was commenced in 1852, and has been\nresumed, as we perceive by the following announcement: _Ancient Laws\nof Ireland. Senchus Mor._ Part II. Edited by W. Neilson Hancock,\nLL.D., and the Rev. Thaddeus O'Mahony. Dublin: Printed for Her\nMajesty's Stationery Office. 1870. 8vo.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSome curious information and revolting details concerning the\ncontinuation of the slave-trade in Africa are furnished in a work\nlately published at Paris, _La Traite Orientale_. The Mussulman\nstill needs slaves and concubines, and three great slave marts still\nexist to supply them. These are the Island of Zanzibar, the southern\nportion of Egypt, and Arabia. At Zanzibar a healthy man sells for\n$42, while the women bring $80, and more, if good-looking.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nDuring the past ten years the history, geography, and topography\nof the biblical countries have been studied with immense activity,\nand the best travellers and scholars of Germany, France, Italy, and\nEngland have contributed their offerings to the common fund of our\nknowledge concerning these most interesting regions. Successful\nresearch on the banks of the Euphrates and the Tigris, the Nile and\nthe Jordan, not to speak of many other points, have all in turn\nconfirmed the perfect veracity of the writers of the Old and of the\nNew Testament. And to these, the broken walls, the palaces, the\ntowers, and the sculptures of Babylon, of Nineveh, of Persepolis, of\nJerusalem, and of Samaria, rising in testimony of the truth from the\ngathered ruins of ages, bear also their testimony. A learned German\necclesiastic, Dr. Gratz, uniting and fusing all the information\non this subject, composed an admirable geographical history of\noriental and occidental countries, with special reference to the\nbiblical period. Dr. Allioli, the celebrated scriptural commentator,\nrecommended the work of Dr. Gratz as marked by so much erudition\nand exactness that the readers of his commentary are recommended\nto it for information on all points touching biblical localities.\nAn excellent French translation of Dr. Gratz's work has just been\npublished: _Th\u00e9\u00e2tre des Ev\u00e9nements racont\u00e9s dans les divines\nEcritures, ou l'ancien et le nouvel Orient \u00e9tudi\u00e9 au point de vue de\nla Bible et de L'Eglise_. 2 vols. 8vo.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nHere are two new works on the Council of Trent: _Histoire du Concile\nde Trente_, par M. Baguenault de Puchesse; 1 vol. 8vo. _Journal\ndu Concile de Trente, r\u00e9dig\u00e9 par un secr\u00e9taire V\u00e9nitien pr\u00e9sant\naux sessions de 1562 \u00e0 1563._ This Venetian secretary was Antonio\nMilledonne, attached to the embassy sent to the Council of Trent by\nthe republic of Venice. To the diary of the secretary, which forms\nthe body of the latter publication, are added several original\ndocuments of the period heretofore unpublished, among them a summary\nof the dispatches of the Venetian ambassadors to the council. M.\nBaschet, the editor, suggests that the publication of the French\ndiplomatic dispatches relative to the council would be of the highest\ninterest. These dispatches would certainly form one of the most\ncurious literary monuments of the sixteenth century, and, in point of\nfact, the history of the latter period of the council cannot well be\nwritten without them.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nBaron H\u00fcbner, formerly Austrian Ambassador at Paris and at Rome, and\nwell known in the diplomatic and literary world, has just presented\nthe fruit of many years' labor among the state archives of Paris,\nVienna, Florence, Venice, Simancas, and the Vatican, in the shape\nof a work entitled _Sixte Quint_; 3 vols. 8vo. Written on an epoch\nalready well investigated, and upon a life which has been the subject\nof many pens, Baron H\u00fcbner's life of Pope Sixtus V. is by far the\nmost remarkable and the most trustworthy we have had. And yet it is\nnot perhaps exact to call his work a life of Sixtus V. The author\ndoes not so style it, and takes up Cardinal Montalto at the conclave\nwhere he is elected pope. He scarcely refers retrospectively to the\nearly years of his life, and pays not the slightest attention to\nthe semi-fabulous stories which tradition has interwoven with the\nname of the great Sixtus. If he finds documentary evidence for\nany part of them, he gives it. If not, silence falls upon them. At\nthe outset of his work he merely mentions the three great names\nconnected with histories of Sixtus--Leti, Tempesti, and Ranke. But he\nmerely mentions them, and in no case quotes them. As to more modern\nhistorians of Sixtus--Segretain and Dumesnil, for instance--he does\nnot appear to have the slightest idea of their existence. Baron\nH\u00fcbner has written his work exclusively from original materials, and\nappears to have used them conscientiously and with excellent judgment.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFor nearly ten months an animated historico-ecclesiastical discussion\nhas been going on in France, which, according to the reports of\nliterary journals, has passed the stage of \"_vive pol\u00e9mique_,\" and\nreached that described as \"_la controverse passion\u00e9e_.\" The subject\nmatter of the discussion is Pope Honorius. Father Gratry (of the\nOratory) led off with a pamphlet entitled, _Mgr. l'Ev\u00eaque d'Orl\u00e9ans\net Mgr. l'Archev\u00eaque de Malines_, and gave the texts of three\ncouncils which condemned Honorius, and the confirmation of their\nsentence by Pope St. Leo II. To this came a reply by M. Chantrel,\n_Le Pape Honorius, Premi\u00e8re Lettre \u00e0 M. l'Abb\u00e9 Gratry_, in which he\npresented an abridged text of the letters of Honorius and testimony\nin his favor. Archbishop Dechamps also answered Father Gratry in _La\nQuestion d'Honorius_, citing an interesting passage from St. Alphonse\nde Liguori. Then, in its numbers of the 10th and 25th January, and\n10th February, _Le Correspondant_ gave an extract from the fourth\nvolume (not yet published) of the _Histoire des Conciles_, by Bishop\nH\u00e9fel\u00e9, in which the prelate-author is severe on Honorius. Father\nColombier, on the contrary, defends the orthodoxy of the incriminated\nletters of Honorius in a series of articles published in the _Etudes\nReligieuses, Historiques, et Litt\u00e9raires_. Dom Gu\u00e9ranger also treated\nthe question in his _D\u00e9fense de l'Eglise Romaine contre les Erreurs\ndu R. P. Gratry_, published in the _Revue du Monde Catholique_.\nThen comes _L'Univers_ with a letter from M. Am\u00e9d\u00e9e de Margerie,\nProfessor at Nancy, in defence of Honorius. We can merely enumerate\nother defenders of Honorius who have entered the lists. They are\nthe Abb\u00e9 Constantin, (_Revue des Sciences Ecclesiastiques_,) the\neditors of the _Civilta Cattolica_, Canon Lefebre, (_Revue Catholique\nde Louvain_,) Abb\u00e9 Larroque, Abb\u00e9 B\u00e9let, Father Roque, and Father\nRami\u00e8re. The _Avenir Catholique_ endeavors to demonstrate that\nHonorius wrote the letters in dispute not as pope, but as a simple\ndoctor. M. L\u00e9on Gautier published a series of articles on the\nquestion of infallibility, the last of which is specially devoted\nto Honorius. These articles collected have lately been published by\nPalm\u00e9 in a pamphlet, entitled _L'Infaillibilit\u00e9 devant la Raison,\nla Foi et l'Histoire_. Then comes a second letter from Bishop\nDechamps, and, finally, the Bishop of Strasburg issues an energetic\ncondemnation of the letters of Father Gratry.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe history of the city of Milan is, in Italian history, one of great\nimportance; for it is the history of Lombardy, and of nearly all of\nthe north of Italy. Of chronicles and histories of the great Lombard\ncity there were many, but none so good in its day as the four large\nand beautiful volumes of the Chevalier Rosmini de Roveredo, which is\nnow in its turn surpassed and superseded by the admirable work of\nCusani, _Storia di Milano, dall' origine ai nostri giorni_. Vols. I.\n\u00e0 V. \u00e0 8vo, Milano, 1861-1869.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nRicotti's great work on the history of the Piedmontese monarchy\nstill approaches completion. The sixth volume, just out, brings the\nwork down to the end of the seventeenth century. The _Storia della\nMonarchia Piemontese_ is no mere dry record of dates; but presents\nan animated picture of the legal, intellectual, social, and artistic\nlife of Piedmont at the different epochs of its existence.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nProfessor Ferdinando Ranalli's new work on the history of the fine\narts, _Storia delle Belle Arti in Italia_, 3 vols., attracts much\nattention.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nProfessor Ciavarini, of Florence, has published an interesting work\non the philosophy of Galileo, _Della Filosofia del Galilei_, and\non his scientific method. The Italian press does not vomit forth\nthe flood of yellow-covered literature with which some countries\nare afflicted; but the number of serious and meritorious works in\nhistory, literature, and science constantly published would surprise\nmost persons who suppose that the Italian mind is at a stand-still.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAlmost simultaneously in Germany and in England appear two works on\nthe Epistles to the Corinthians by St. Clement of Rome. They are\n_Clementis Romani ad Corinthios Epistola_, by J. C. M. Laurent,\npublished at Leipsic; and _S. Clement of Rome: the Two Epistles to\nthe Corinthians_, a revised text with introduction and notes, by J.\nB. Lightfoot. They are mainly valuable for their discussion as to the\nmerits of the texts of the various MSS.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe most interesting arch\u00e6ological discovery of our age, incomparable\nfor its antiquity and its historic and philological interest, is\nunquestionably the one lately made by M. Clermont-Ganneau, dragoman\nof the consulate of France at Jerusalem. It is that of a Hebrew\ninscription of the year 896 before Christ, cut on a monolith\nby order of Mescha, King of Moab, a contemporary of the kings\nJoram and Josaphat. The stone on which the inscription is graven\nis in dimension three feet four inches by about two feet. The\ninscription itself is in thirty-four lines, each line containing\nfrom thirty-three to thirty-five letters. It is said that there is\nno known Hebrew monument comparable in antiquity with this. M. le\nComte de Vog\u00fc\u00e9 lately presented a memoir concerning it to the French\nAcademy of Inscriptions and Belles-Lettres, which is now published\nby Baudry, Paris: _La St\u00e8le de Mesa, Roi de Moab, 896 avant J\u00e9sus\nChrist_.\n\n\n\n\nNEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n\n    LIFTING THE VEIL. New York: Charles Scribner & Co. 1870. Pp.\n    200.\n\nThis book was probably suggested by _Gates Ajar_. It is an attempt\nto say something about the future state of the human race. In some\nrespects the volume is more valuable than Miss Phelps's endeavor\nto convey an idea of the happiness of paradise. It is not so\nmaterialistic. Yet both works are very defective, because of the\nsimple fact that neither of the authors know any thing of that which\nmakes heaven to be heaven--the beatific vision. Their highest ideal\nis perfect intellectual contentment, with unimpeded exercise of our\nnatural capacities and the companionship of our friends and our\nblessed Saviour. Yet it is encouraging to see that Protestants are\nwriting such books as these. They are the expression of the deepest\nwants of the human soul. They prove that the Protestantism of to-day\nhas failed to answer these wants. If we were not already perfectly\nconvinced, they would convince us, that when the truth is adequately\npresented to these souls, they will gladly accept it.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    PASSAGES FROM THE ENGLISH NOTE-BOOKS OF NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE.\n    Boston: Fields, Osgood & Co. 1870. 2 vols.\n\nOne great charm of these two volumes lies in the fact that they were\nnever written for publication. But we regret the omission of certain\npassages. The editor of the volumes thought it wise to withhold\na portion of the notes which were afterward absorbed into one or\nanother of the romances or papers in _Our Old Home_. Yet surely it\nwould have been a pleasure to contrast the rough sketch contained\nin his notes with the elaborate and finely-finished picture which\nMr. Hawthorne afterward presented to the public. The editor tells\nus that these cartoons were carefully finished even \"at the first\nstroke.\" However, the volumes will always be valuable, because they\ngive a clear insight of their author's character. If one writes his\nevery-day impressions of places, persons, and events, he gives the\nworld a picture of his mind. Thus when these series of notes are\ncompleted by the notes upon America and Italy, we shall be enabled\nto form a far truer estimate of this distinguished American writer\nthan we could possibly do from those works which have given him a\nname in literature, both in his own country and in more critical and\nfastidious England.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    HIDDEN SAINTS: LIFE OF S\u0152UR MARIE. New York: D. & J. Sadlier\n    & Co. 1870. Pp. 215.\n\nIn many respects this is a useful contribution to our Catholic\nliterature. It tells the story of a workwoman who attained a very\nhigh degree of Christian perfection. In its matter, the book reminds\none of _Marie-Eustelle Harpain_, but it does not greatly resemble\nit in its composition. A religious biography can do good in two\nways. It can edify the readers with the history of remarkable piety\nand virtue. And it can also elevate and refine our minds, if it be\nwritten in pure and correct English. Unfortunately, this biography\ndoes not possess this character. Its very title is an example of a\nfault which is frequently seen throughout the volume. It is the \"Life\nof _S\u0153ur Marie_,\" not Sister Mary. When this good girl addresses\nher director, she does not say \"Father,\" but it must be \"_Mon P\u00e8re_,\"\nand without the accent to which that word is lawfully entitled.\nSurely it is absurd affectation to ruin a beautiful thought and a\ngood English sentence by mixing with it two or three French words.\nBut this is not the only fault of the volume. It speaks of \"promises\nof milk and water,\" an expression which contains no definite idea.\nIt informs us that Sister Mary \"went _straight_ to church.\" Who\ncan tell whether the author intends to say that she went to church\n_immediately_ or went there by the most direct way? Then, too, if\nthis book be intended to form one of a series of biographies of\npersons who are not canonized, why call them \"Hidden _Saints_\"? The\nholy see has always wished us to be most careful in the use of this\nword. But these faults do not destroy the value of the book. They\nare only blemishes, and in a future edition we hope to find them\ncompletely removed.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    MARION. A Tale of French Society under the Old R\u00e9gime.\n    Baltimore: Kelly, Piet & Co. 1870. Pp. 176.\n\nMarion is a woman of \"stiff figure, bony hands, bloodshot eyes, and\ninnumerable wrinkles, always reminding one of stories about vampires\nand ghouls.\" (P. 4.) This sentence gives a fair idea of the style and\nliterary value of this novel. It is filled with similar nonsensical\nand overdrawn descriptions. We must, therefore, beg leave to differ\nfrom the very modest opinion expressed in the preface, that the book\nhas a character \"which stamps it as one that the young may read with\nprofit.\" On the contrary, it is a shame that such a story should be\ntranslated and allowed to live in another language than the one in\nwhich it was originally written. However, we will do it justice.\nThere is one mark of common sense about the book. It is this--both\nthe author and translator have concealed their names.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    THOMAS FRANCIS MEAGHER. By Captain W. F. Lyons. New York: D. &\n    J. Sadlier. 1870. Pp. 357.\n\nWe do not believe the sentiment which Shakespeare has put in the\nmouth of Mark Antony, that\n\n    \"The evil which men do lives after them;\n    The good is oft interred with their bones.\"\n\nIt is not true that men delight in recalling the faults of their\nfellow-men; and especially do the dead claim our forgiveness and\ncompassion. We are truly sorry, therefore, to find in this volume\nspeeches which reflect no credit from a literary point of view upon\nGeneral Meagher, and which, moreover, contain doctrines most clearly\ncondemned by the Catholic Church. Out of respect to the many good\nqualities of Meagher, we wish to forget his faults. We would wish\nalso to remember, and we wish his countrymen to remember, his manly\nvirtues. But until the speech beginning on page 280 of this volume\nis omitted, we cannot recommend this book to the Catholic public, or\nconsider it a worthy monument of Thomas Francis Meagher.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    HISTORY OF THE FOUNDATION OF THE ORDER OF THE VISITATION.\n    Baltimore: Kelly, Piet & Co. 1870. Pp. 271.\n\nFew books issued by Catholic publishers are more interesting and\nuseful than this history of the Order of the Visitation. Besides the\nhistory of their foundation, it contains the lives of several members\nof the order; among them Mademoiselle De La Fayette, a relative of\nthe general so distinguished in our war for independence. The book\nmerits a wide circulation.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    ALASKA AND ITS RESOURCES; By W. H. Dall. Boston: Lee & Shepard.\n    1870.\n\nMr. Dall was \"the director of the scientific corps of the late\nWestern Union Telegraph Expedition.\" His book is the result of great\nindustry, and is highly creditable to him every way. Those who desire\nto know something worth knowing about this singular region will find\nthis work very interesting. The writer says in his introduction\nthat he \"has specially endeavored to convey as much information as\nhis scope would allow in regard to the native inhabitants, history,\nand resources of the country. This end,\" he adds, \"has been kept\nsteadily in view, perhaps, at the risk of dulness.\" We think he has\nsucceeded admirably, and have no fear whatever that any one capable\nof appreciating the book is likely to find it dull.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    PARADISE OF THE EARTH. Translated from the French of Abb\u00e9\n    Sanson by Rev. F. Ignatius Sisk. Baltimore: John Murphy & Co.\n    New York: Catholic Publication Society. 1870. Pp. 528.\n\nThis book was originally written for religious, though we presume it\nis now intended to have a wider circulation. The means of finding\nhappiness is treated under a two-fold head: First, Removal of\nobstacles; second, Practice of the solid virtues. The chapters which\ntreat of the mortification of the passions are carefully written.\nIndeed, the author has wished to present the teaching of the saints\nand doctors of the church rather than his own opinions.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    LORETTO; OR THE CHOICE. By George H. Miles. New and enlarged\n    edition. Baltimore: Kelly, Piet & Co. 1870. Pp. 371.\n\nThis story presents a very fair picture of Southern Catholic society.\nThe characters in it are mostly well conceived. They are not\nimpossible persons. Nothing extraordinary happens to any one of them.\nThey speak in a natural manner. The plot, too, though simple, is\nvery pleasingly developed, and the interest of the reader constantly\nmaintained. For all these good qualities, so rare in modern works of\nfiction, the book deserves a hearty recommendation. But beyond all\nthis, the story merits praise for the sound principles of morality\nwhich appear on every page, and which the author presents in a manner\nat once pleasing and truthful.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    DEVOTION TO THE SACRED HEART OF JESUS. By Secondo Franco, S.J.\n    Baltimore: John Murphy & Co. 1870. Pp. 305.\n\nThis manual of devotion makes a very handsome appearance in its dress\nof blue and gold. Its object is to explain clearly the essence of\nthe worship of the Sacred Heart. Yet this book is not in any sense a\ncontroversial work. It is written for devout Catholics. It will be\nof service to any one who wishes to gain a knowledge of the interior\nlife of our Redeemer by studying his sacred heart. The book is filled\nwith fervent sentences and devout aspirations, which will help the\nreader to become like Him \"who was meek and humble of heart.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    BEECH BLUFF: A Tale of the South. By Fannie Warner.\n    Philadelphia. P. F. Cunningham.\n\nIn this volume we have what purports to be the experience of a\nNorthern lady in the sunny South, during a three years' residence\nas governess in the State of Georgia. The tale, which is written in\na pleasing and natural style, is entirely free from all sensational\nincidents, and has a strong under-current of sound practical\nCatholicity. It will be none the less acceptable to many as being\ndescriptive of a phase of society which is now (happily, in some\nrespects) \"among the things that were.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    WONDERS OF ARCHITECTURE. Translated from the French of M.\n    Lefevre. To which is added a chapter on English Architecture.\n    By R. Donald, 1 vol. 12mo. New York: Charles Scribner & Co.\n    1870.\n\nA beautiful little book, containing illustrations of some of the\nfinest creations of the great architects of the world. It is both\nentertaining and instructive.\n\n\n\n\nTHE\n\nCATHOLIC WORLD.\n\nVOL. XI., No. 66.--SEPTEMBER, 1870.\n\n\nHEREDITARY GENIUS.[285]\n\n\nMr. Galton is what in these days is called a _scientist_, or\ncultivator of the physical sciences, whose pretension is to confine\nthemselves strictly to the field of the sciences as distinguished\nfrom science; to assert nothing but positive facts and the laws of\ntheir production and operation, ascertained by careful observation\nand experiment, and induction therefrom. Their aim would seem to\nbe to explain all the facts or phenomena of the universe by means\nof second causes, and to prove that man is properly classed with\nanimals, or is only an animal developed or completed, not an animal\ntransformed and specificated by a rational soul, which is defined by\nthe church to be _forma corporis_.\n\nBetween the scientists and philosophers, or those who cultivate not\nthe special sciences, but the science of the sciences, and determine\nthe principles to which the several special sciences must be referred\nin order to have any scientific character or value, there is a\nlong-standing quarrel, which grows fiercer and more embittered every\nday. We are far from pretending that the positivists or Comtists have\nmastered all the so-called special sciences; but they represent truly\nthe aims and tendencies of the scientists, and of what by a strange\nmisnomer is called philosophy; so-called, it would seem, because\nphilosophy it is not. Philosophy is the science of principles, as say\nthe Greeks, or of _first_ principles, as say the Latins, and after\nthem the modern Latinized nations. But Herbert Spencer, Stuart Mill,\nand the late Sir William Hamilton, the ablest representatives of\nphilosophy as generally received by the English-speaking world, agree\nwith the Comtists or positivists in rejecting first principles from\nthe domain of science, and in relegating theology and metaphysics\nto the region of the unknown and the unknowable. Their labors\nconsequently result, as Sir William Hamilton himself somewhere\nadmits, in universal nescience, or, as we say, absolute nihilism or\nnullism.\n\nThis result is not accidental, but follows necessarily from what\nis called the Baconian method, which the scientists follow, and\nwhich is, in scholastic language, concluding the universal from\nthe particular. Now, in the logic we learned as a school-boy, and\nadhere to in our old age, this is simply impossible. To every valid\nargument it is necessary that one of the premises, called the major\npremise, be a universal principle. Yet the scientists discard the\nuniversal from their premises, and from two or more particulars,\nor particular facts, profess to draw a valid universal conclusion,\nas if any conclusion broader than the premises could be valid! The\nphysico-theologians are so infatuated with the Baconian method that\nthey attempt, from certain facts which they discover in the physical\nworld, to conclude, by way of induction, the being and attributes of\nGod, as if any thing concluded from particular facts could be any\nthing but a particular fact. Hence, the aforenamed authors, with\nProfessor Huxley at their tail, as well as Kant in his _Kritik der\nReinen Vernunft_, have proved as clearly and as conclusively as any\nthing can be proved that a causative force, or causality, cannot\nbe concluded by way either of induction or of deduction from any\nempirical facts, or facts of which observation can take note. Yet the\nvalidity of every induction rests on the reality of the relation of\ncause and effect, and the fact that the cause actually produces the\neffect.\n\nYet our scientists pretend that they can, from the observation and\nanalysis of facts, induce a law, and a law that will hold good\nbeyond the particulars observed and analyzed. But they do not obtain\nany law at all; and the laws of nature, about which they talk so\nlearnedly, are not laws, but simply facts. Bring a piece of wax to\nthe fire and it melts, hence it is said to be a law that wax so\nbrought in proximate relation with fire will melt; but this law\nis only the particular fact observed, and the facts to which you\napply it are the identical facts from which you have obtained it.\nThe investigation, in all cases where the scientists profess to\nseek the law, is simply an investigation to find out and establish\nthe identity of the facts, and what they call the law is only the\nassertion of that identity, and never extends to facts not identical,\nor to dissimilar facts.\n\nTake mathematics; as far as the scientist can admit mathematics, they\nare simply identical propositions piled on identical propositions,\nand the only difference between Newton and a plough-boy is, that\nNewton detects identity where the plough-boy does not. Take what is\ncalled the law of gravitation; it is nothing but the statement of a\nfact, or a class of facts observed, and the most that it tells us is,\nthat if the facts are identical, they are identical--that is, they\nbear such and such relations to one another. But let your positivist\nattempt to explain transcendental mathematics, and he is all at\nsea, if he does not borrow from the ideal science or philosophy\nwhich he professes to discard. How will the geometrician explain his\ninfinitely extended lines, or lines that may be infinitely extended?\nA line is made up of a succession of points, and therefore of parts,\nand nothing which is made up of parts is infinite. The line may be\nincreased or diminished by the addition or subtraction of points, but\nthe infinite cannot be either increased or diminished. Whence does\nthe mind get this idea of infinity? The geometrician tells us the\nline may be infinitely extended--that is, it is infinitely possible;\nbut it cannot be so unless there is an infinite ground on which it\ncan be projected. An infinitely possible line can be asserted only\nby asserting the infinitely real, and therefore the mind, unless\nit had the intuition of the infinitely real, could not conceive of\na line as capable of infinite extension. Hence the ancients never\nassert either the infinitely possible or the infinite real. There is\nin all Gentile science, or Gentile philosophy, no conception of the\ninfinite; there is only the conception of the indefinite.\n\nThis same reasoning disposes of the infinite divisibility of matter\nstill taught in our text-books. The infinite divisibility of matter\nis an infinite absurdity; for it implies an infinity of parts or\nnumbers, which is really a contradiction in terms. We know nothing\nthat better illustrates the unsoundness of the method of the\nscientists. Here is a piece of matter. Can you not divide it into\ntwo equal parts? Certainly. Can you do the same by either of the\nhalves? Yes. And by the quarters. Yes. And thus on _ad infinitum_?\nWhere, then, is the absurdity? None as long as you deal with only\nfinite quantities. The absurdity is in the fact that the infinite\ndivisibility of matter implies an infinity of parts; and an infinity\nof parts, an infinity of numbers; and numbers and every series of\nnumbers may be increased by addition, and diminished by subtraction.\nAn infinite series is impossible.\n\nThe moment the scientists leave the domain of particulars or positive\nfacts, and attempt to induce from them a law, their induction\nis of no value. Take geology. The geologist finds in that small\nportion of the globe which he has examined certain facts, from\nwhich he concludes that the globe is millions and millions of ages\nold. Is his conclusion scientific? Not at all. If the globe was in\nthe beginning in a certain state, and if the structural and other\nchanges which are now going on have been going on at the same rate\nfrom the beginning--neither of which suppositions is provable--then\nthe conclusion is valid; not otherwise. Sir Charles Lyell, if we\nrecollect aright, calculated that, at the present rate, it must\nhave taken at least a hundred and fifty thousand years to form the\ndelta of the Mississippi. Officers of the United States army have\ncalculated that a little over four thousand years would suffice.\n\nSo of the antiquity of man on the globe. The scientist finds what he\ntakes to be human bones in a cave along with the bones of certain\nlong since extinct species of animals, and concludes that man was\ncontemporary with the said extinct species of animals; therefore\nman existed on the globe many, nobody can say how many, thousand\nyears ago. But two things render the conclusion uncertain. It is\nnot certain from the fact that their bones are found together that\nman and these animals were contemporary; and the date when these\nanimals became extinct, if extinct they are, is not ascertained\nnor ascertainable. They have discovered traces in Switzerland of\nlacustrian habitations; but these prove nothing, because history\nitself mentions \"the dwellers on the lakes,\" and the oldest history\naccepted by the scientists is not many thousand years old. Sir\nCharles Lyell finds, or supposes he finds, stone knives and axes,\nor what he takes to be stone knives and axes, deeply embedded in\nthe earth in the valley of a river, though at some distance from\nits present bed; and thence concludes the presence of man on the\nearth for a period wholly irreconcilable with the received biblical\nchronology. But supposing the facts to be as alleged, they do not\nprove any thing, because we cannot say what changes by floods or\nother causes have taken place in the soil of the locality, even\nduring the period of authentic history. Others conclude from the\nsame facts that men were primitively savages, or ignorant of the use\nof iron. But the most they prove is that, at some unknown period,\ncertain parts of Europe were inhabited by a people who used stone\nknives and axes; but whether because ignorant of iron, or because\nunable from their poverty or their distance from places where they\nwere manufactured to procure similar iron utensils, they give us no\ninformation. Instances enough are recorded in history of the use of\nstone knives by a people who possessed knives made of iron. Because\nin our day some Indian tribes use bows and arrows, are we to conclude\nthat fire-arms are unknown in our age of the world?\n\nWhat the scientists offer as proof is seldom any proof at all. If\nan hypothesis they invent explains the known facts of a case, they\nassert it as proved, and therefore true. What fun would they not make\nof theologians and philosophers, if they reasoned as loosely as they\ndo themselves? Before we can conclude an hypothesis is true because\nit explains the known facts in the case, we must prove, 1st, that\nthere are and can be no facts in the case not known; and, 2d, that\nthere is no other possible hypothesis on which they can be explained.\nWe do not say the theories of the scientists with regard to the\nantiquity of the globe and of man on its surface, nor that any of the\ngeological and astronomical hypotheses they set forth are absolutely\nfalse; we only say that their alleged facts and reasonings do not\nprove them. The few facts known might be placed in a very different\nlight by the possibly unknown facts; and there are conceivable any\nnumber of other hypotheses which would equally well explain the facts\nthat are known.\n\nThe book before us on _Hereditary Genius_ admirably illustrates\nthe insufficiency of the method and the defective logic of the\nscientists. Mr. Galton, its author, belongs to the school of\nwhich such men as Herbert Spencer, Darwin, Sir John Lubbock, and\nProfessor Huxley are British chiefs, men who disdain to recognize a\nself-existent Creator, and who see no difficulty in supposing the\nuniverse self-evolved from nothing, or in tracing intelligence, will,\ngenerous affection, and heroic effort to the mechanical, chemical,\nand electrical arrangement and combination of the particles of brute\nmatter. Mr. Galton has written his book, he says, p. 1, to show\n\n    \"that a man's natural abilities are derived from inheritance,\n    under exactly the same limitations as are the form and the\n    physical features of the whole organic world. Consequently, as\n    it is easy, notwithstanding those limitations, to obtain by\n    careful selection a permanent breed of dogs or horses, gifted\n    with peculiar powers of running, or of doing any thing else,\n    so it would be quite practicable to produce a highly-gifted\n    race [breed] of men by judicious marriages during several\n    consecutive generations.\"\n\nMr. Galton, with an air of the most perfect innocence in the world,\nplaces man in the category of plants and animals, and in principle\nsimply reproduces for our instruction the _Man-Plant_, from which\nthere is but a step to the _Man-Machine_ of the cynical Lamettrie,\nthe atheistical professor of mathematics in the university of\nBerlin, and friend of Frederick the Great. The attempt to prove\nit is a subtle attempt to prove, in the name of science, that the\nsoul, if soul there be, is generated as well as the body, and that\na man's natural abilities are derived through generation from his\norganization. The author from first to last gives no hint that his\ndoctrine is at war with Christian theology, with the freedom of the\nhuman will, or man's moral responsibility for his conduct, or that\nit excludes all morality, all virtue, and all sin, and recognizes\nonly physical good or evil. He would no doubt reply to this that\nscience is science, facts are facts, and he is under no obligation to\nconsider what theological doctrines they do or do not contradict; for\nnothing can be true that contradicts science or is opposed to facts.\nThat is opposed to actual facts, or that contradicts real science,\nconceded; for one truth can never contradict another. But the author\nis bound to consider whether a theory or hypothesis which contradicts\nthe deepest and most cherished beliefs of mankind in all ages and\nnations, and in which is the key to universal history, is really\nscience, or really is sustained by facts. The presumption, as say\nthe lawyers, is against it, and for its acceptance it requires the\nclearest and the most irrefragable proofs, and we are not sure that\neven any proofs would be enough to overcome the presumptions against\nit, founded as they are on reasons as strong and as conclusive as it\nis in any case possible for the human mind to have. The assertion\nthat man's natural abilities originate in his organization, and\ntherefore that we may obtain a peculiar breed of men, as we can\nobtain a peculiar breed of dogs or horses, is revolting to the\ndeepest convictions and the holiest and most irrepressible instincts\nof every man, except a scientist, and certainly can be reasonably\nreceived only on evidence that excludes the possibility of a rational\ndoubt.\n\nMr. Galton proves, or attempts to prove, his theory by what he\nno doubt calls an appeal to facts. He takes from a biographical\ndictionary the names of a few hundreds of men, chiefly Englishmen,\nduring the last two centuries, who have been distinguished as\nstatesmen, lawyers, judges, divines, authors, etc., and finds that\nin a great majority of cases, as far as is known, they have sprung\nfrom families of more than average ability, and, in some cases, from\nfamilies which have had some one or more members distinguished for\nseveral consecutive generations. This is really all the proof Mr.\nGalton brings to prove his thesis; and if he has not adduced more, it\nis fair to conclude that it is because no more was to be had.\n\nBut the evidence is far from being conclusive. Even if it be true\nthat the majority of eminent men spring from families more or less\ndistinguished, it does not necessarily follow that they derive their\neminent abilities by inheritance; for in those same families, born\nof the same parents, we find other members whose abilities are in no\nway remarkable, and in no sense above the common level. In a family\nof half a dozen or a dozen members one will be distinguished and\nrise to eminence, while the others will remain very ordinary people.\nOf the Bonaparte family no member approaches in genius the first\nNapoleon, except the present emperor of the French. Why these marked\ndifferences in the children of the same blood, the same breed, the\nsame parents and ancestors? If Mr. Galton explains the inferiority of\nthe five or the eleven by considerations external or independent of\nrace or breed, why may not the superiority of the one be explained\nby causes alike independent of breed? Why are the natural abilities\nof my brothers inferior to mine, since we are all born of the same\nparents? If a man's natural abilities are derived by inheritance from\norganization, why am I superior to them? Every day we meet occasion\nto ask similar questions. This fact proves that there are causes\nat work, on which man's eminence or want of eminence depends, of\nwhich Mr. Galton's theory takes no note, which escape the greatest\nscientists, and at best can be only conjectured. But conjecture is\nnot science.\n\nThis is not all. As far as known, very eminent men have sprung from\nparents of very ordinary natural abilities, as of social position.\nThe founders of dynasties and noble families have seldom had\ndistinguished progenitors, and are usually not only the first but\nthe greatest of their line. The present Sir Robert Peel cannot be\nnamed alongside of his really eminent father, nor the present Duke\nof Wellington be compared with his father, the Iron Duke. There is\nno greater name in history than that of St. Augustine, the eminent\nfather and doctor of the church, a man beside whom in genius and\ndepth, and greatness of mind as well as tenderness of heart, your\nPlatos and Aristotles appear like men of only ordinary stature;\nyet, though his mother was eminent for her sanctity, his parents do\nnot appear to have been gifted with any extraordinary mental power.\nInstances are not rare, especially among the saints, of great men\nwho have, so to speak, sprung from nothing. Among the popes we may\nmention Sixtus Quintus, and Hildebrand, St. Gregory VII.; and among\neminent churchmen we may mention St. Thomas of Canterbury, Cardinal\nXimenes, and Cardinal Wolsey. The greatest and most gifted of our own\nstatesmen have sprung from undistinguished parents, as Washington,\nthe elder Adams, Jefferson, Madison, Jackson, Webster, Calhoun.\nWho dares pretend that every saint has had a saint for a father or\nmother; that every eminent theologian or philosopher has had any\neminent theologian or philosopher for his father; or that every\neminent artist, whether in painting, architecture, sculpture, or\nmusic, has been the son or grandson of an eminent artist?\n\nThen, again, who can say how much of a great man's greatness is due\nto his natural abilities with which he was born, and how much is due\nto the force of example, to family tradition, to education, to his\nown application, and the concurrence of circumstances? It is in no\nman's power to tell, nor in any scientist's power to ascertain. It is\na common remark that great men in general owe their greatness chiefly\nto their mothers, and that, in the great majority of cases known,\neminent men have had gifted mothers. This, if a fact, is against\nMr. Galton's theory; for the father, not the mother, transmits the\nhereditary character of the offspring, the hereditary qualities of\nthe line, if the physiologists are to be believed. Hence nobility in\nall civilized nations follows the father, not the mother. The fact of\ngreat men owing their greatness more to the mother is explained by\nher greater influence in forming the mind, in moulding the character,\nin stimulating and directing the exercise of her son's faculties,\nthan that of the father. It is as educator in the largest sense that\nthe mother forms her son's character and influences his destiny. It\nis her womanly instincts, affection, and care and vigilance, her\nready sympathy, her love, her tenderness, and power to inspire a\nnoble ambition, kindle high and generous aspirations in the breast of\nher son, that do the work.\n\nEven if it were uniformly true that great men have always descended\nfrom parents remarkable for their natural abilities, Mr. Galton's\ntheory that genius is hereditary could not be concluded with\nscientific certainty. The hereditary transmission of genius might\nindeed seem probable; but, on the empirical principles of the\nscientists, it could not be asserted. All that could be asserted\nwould be the relation of concomitance or of juxtaposition, not the\nrelation of cause and effect. The relation of cause and effect\nis not and cannot, as the scientists tell us, be empirically\napprehended. How can they know that the genius of the son is derived\nhereditarily from the greatness of his progenitors? From the\njuxtaposition or concomitance of two facts empirically apprehended\nthere is no possible logic by which it can be inferred that the\none is the cause of the other. Hence, Mr. Herbert Spencer, Stuart\nMill, Sir William Hamilton, Professor Huxley, and the positivists\nfollow Hume, and relegate, as we said, causes to the region of the\nunknowable. In fact, the scientists, if they speak of the relation\nof cause and effect, mean by it only the relation of juxtaposition\nin the order of precedence and consequence. Hence, on their own\nprinciples, though the facts they assert and describe may be true,\nnone of their conclusions from them, or hypotheses to explain them,\nhave or can have any scientific validity. For, after all, there may\nbe a real cause on which the facts depend, and which demands an\nentirely different explanation from the one which the scientists\noffer.\n\nWe refuse, therefore, to accept Mr. Galton's hypothesis that genius\nis hereditary, because the facts he adduces are not all the facts\nin the case, because there are facts which are not consistent with\nit, and because he does not show and cannot show that it is the only\nhypothesis possible for the explanation even of the facts which he\nalleges. Even his friendly and able reviewer, Dr. Meredith Clymer,\nconcludes his admirable analysis by saying, \"A larger induction is\nnecessary before any final decision can be had on the merits of the\nquestion.\" This is the verdict of one of the most scientific minds\nin the United States, and it is the Scotch verdict, not proven. Yet\nMr. Galton would have us accept his theory as science, and on its\nstrength set aside the teachings of revelation and the universal\nbeliefs of mankind. This is the way of all non-Christian scientists\nof the day, and it is because the church refuses to accept their\nunverified and unverifiable hypotheses, and condemns them for\nasserting them as true, that they accuse her of being hostile to\nmodern science. They make certain investigations, ascertain certain\nfacts, imagine certain hypotheses, which are nothing but conjectures,\nput them forth as science, and then demand that she accept them, and\ngive up her faith so far as incompatible with them. A very reasonable\ndemand indeed!\n\nPress these proud scientists closely, and they will own that _as yet_\ntheir sciences are only tentative, that _as yet_ they are not in a\ncondition to prove absolutely their theories, or to verify their\nconjectures, but they are in hopes they soon will be. At present,\nscience is only in its infancy, it has only just entered upon the\ntrue method of investigation; but it is every day making surprising\nprogress, and there is no telling what marvellous conclusions it\nwill soon arrive at. All this might pass, if it did not concern\nmatters of life and death, heaven and hell. The questions involved\nare too serious to be sported with, too pressing to wait the slow\nand uncertain solutions of the tentative science which, during six\nthousand years, has really made no progress in solving them. The\nscientists retard science when they ask from it the solution, either\naffirmative or negative, of questions which confessedly lie not in\nits province, and dishonor and degrade it when they put forth as\nscience their crude conjectures, or their unverified and unverifiable\nhypotheses. They, not we, are the real enemies of science, though it\nwould require a miracle to make them see it. Deluded mortals! they\nstart with assumptions that exclude the very possibility of science,\nand then insist that what they assert or deny shall be accepted\nby theologians and philosophers as established with scientific\ncertainty! Surely the apostle must have had them in mind when he said\nof certain men that, \"esteeming themselves wise, they became fools.\"\n\nGenius is not hereditary in Mr. Galton's sense, nor are a man's\nnatural abilities derived by inheritance in the way he would have us\nbelieve; for both belong to the soul, not to the body; and the soul\nis created, not generated. Only the body is generated, and only in\nwhat is generated is there natural inheritance. All the facts Mr.\nGalton adduces we are prepared to admit; but we deny his explanation.\nWe accept, with slight qualifications, his views as summed up by Dr.\nClymer in the following passage:\n\n    \"The doctrine of the pretensions of natural equality in\n    intellect, which teaches that the sole agencies in creating\n    differences between boy and boy, and man and man, are\n    steady application and moral effort, is daily contradicted\n    by the experiences of the nursery, schools, universities,\n    and professional careers. There is a definite limit to the\n    muscular powers of every man, which he cannot by any training\n    or exertion overpass. It is only the novice gymnast who,\n    noting his rapid daily gain of strength and skill, believes\n    in illimitable development; but he learns in time that his\n    maximum performance becomes a rigidly-determinate quantity.\n    The same is true of the experience of the student in the\n    working of his mental powers. The eager boy at the outset of\n    his career is astonished at his rapid progress; he thinks for\n    a while that every thing is within his grasp; but he too soon\n    finds his place among his fellows; he can beat such and such\n    of his mates, and run on equal terms with others, while there\n    will be always some whose intellectual and physical feats he\n    cannot approach. The same experience awaits him when he enters\n    a larger field of competition in the battle of life; let him\n    work with all his diligence, he cannot reach his object; let\n    him have opportunities, he cannot profit by them; he tries\n    and is tried, and he finally learns his gauge--what he can\n    do, and what lies beyond his capacity. He has been taught the\n    hard lesson of his weakness and his strength; he comes to rate\n    himself as the world rates him; and he salves his wounded\n    ambition with the conviction that he is doing all his nature\n    allows him. An evidence of the enormous inequality between\n    the intellectual capacity of men is shown in the prodigious\n    differences in the number of marks obtained by those who gain\n    mathematical honors at the University of Cambridge, England. Of\n    the four hundred or four hundred and fifty students who take\n    their degrees each year, about one hundred succeed in gaining\n    honors in mathematics, and these are ranged in strict order of\n    merit. Forty of them have the title of 'wrangler,' and to be\n    even a low wrangler is a creditable thing. The distinction of\n    being the first in this list of honors, or 'senior wrangler'\n    of the year, means a great deal more than being the foremost\n    mathematician of four hundred or four hundred and fifty men\n    taken at haphazard. Fully one half the wranglers have been boys\n    of mark at their schools. The senior wrangler of the year is\n    the chief of these as regards mathematics. The youths start on\n    their three-years' race fairly, and their run is stimulated by\n    powerful inducements; at the end they are examined rigorously\n    for five and a half hours a day for eight days. The marks are\n    then added up, and the candidates strictly rated in a scale of\n    merit. The precise number of marks got by the senior wrangler,\n    in one of the three years given by Mr. Galton, is 7634; by\n    the second wrangler, 4123; and by the lowest man in the list\n    of honors, 237. The senior wrangler, consequently, had nearly\n    twice as many marks as the second, and more than thirty-two\n    times as many as the lowest man. In the other examinations\n    given, the results do not materially differ. The senior\n    wrangler may, therefore, be set down as having thirty-two\n    times the ability of the lowest men on the lists; or, as Mr.\n    Galton puts it, 'he would be able to grapple with problems\n    more than thirty-two times as difficult; or, when dealing with\n    subjects of the same difficulty, but intelligible to all, would\n    comprehend them more rapidly in, perhaps, the square-root of\n    that proportion.' But the mathematical powers of the ultimate\n    man on the honors-list, which are so low when compared with\n    those of the foremost man, are above mediocrity when compared\n    with the gifts of Englishmen generally; for, though the\n    examination places one hundred honor-men above him, it puts no\n    less than three hundred 'poll-men' below him. Admitting that\n    two hundred out of three hundred have refused to work hard\n    enough to earn honors, there will remain one hundred who, had\n    they done their possible, never could have got them.\n\n    \"The same striking intellectual differences between man and man\n    are found in whatever way ability may be tested, whether in\n    statesmanship, generalship, literature, science, poetry, art.\n    The evidence furnished by Mr. Galton's book goes to show in how\n    small degree eminence in any class of intellectual powers can\n    be considered as due to purely special faculties. It is the\n    result of concentrated efforts made by men widely gifted--of\n    grand human animals; of natures born to achieve greatness.\"\n\nWe are far from pretending that all men are born with equal\nabilities, and that all souls are created with equal possibilities,\nor that every child comes into the world a genius in germ. We believe\nthat all men are born with equal natural rights, and that all should\nbe equal before the law, however various and unequal may be their\nacquired or adventitious rights; but that is all the equality we\nbelieve in. No special effort or training in the world, under the\ninfluence of the most favorable circumstances, can make every child\na St. Augustine, a St. Thomas, a Bossuet, a Newton, a Leibnitz,\na Julius C\u00e6sar, a Wellington, a Napoleon. As one star differeth\nfrom another in glory, so does one soul differ from another in its\ncapacities on earth as well as in its blessedness in heaven. Here we\nhave no quarrel with Mr. Galton. We are by no means believers in the\nlate Robert Owen's doctrine, that you can make all men equal if you\nwill only surround them from birth with the same circumstances, and\nenable them to live in parallelograms.\n\nWe are prepared to go even farther, and to recognize that the\ndistinction between noble and ignoble, gentle and simple, recognized\nin all ages and by all nations, is not wholly unfounded. There is\nas great a variety and as great an inequality in families as in\nindividuals. Aristocracy is not a pure prejudice; and though it has\nno political privileges in this country, yet it exists here no less\nthan elsewhere, and it is well for us that it does. No greater evil\ncould befall any country than to have no distinguished families\nrising, generation after generation, above the common level; no born\nleaders of the people, who stand head and shoulders above the rest;\nand the great objection to democracy is, that it tends to bring\nall down to a general average, and to place the administration of\npublic interests in the hands of a low mediocrity, as our American\nexperience, in some measure, proves. The demand of the age for\nequality of conditions and possessions is most mischievous. If all\nwere equally rich, all would be equally poor; and if all were at the\ntop of society, society would have no bottom, and would be only a\nbottomless pit. If there were none devoted to learning, no strength\nand energy of character above the multitude, society would be without\nleaders, and would soon fall to pieces, as an army of privates\nwithout officers.\n\nThere is no doubt that there are noble lines, and the descendants of\nnoble ancestors do, as a rule, though not invariably, surpass the\ndescendants of plebeian or undistinguished lines. The Stanleys, for\ninstance, have been distinguished in British history for at least\nfifteen generations. The present Earl Derby, the fifteenth earl\nof his house, is hardly inferior to his gifted father, and nobly\nsustains the honors of his house. We expect more from the child of\na good family than from the child of a family of no account, and\nhold that birth is never to be decried or treated as a matter of no\nimportance. But we count it so chiefly because it secures better\nbreeding, and subjection to higher, nobler, and purer formative\ninfluences, from the earliest moment. Example and family traditions\nare of immense reach in forming the character, and it is not a little\nto have constantly presented to the consideration of the child the\ndistinguished ability, the eminent worth and noble deeds of a long\nline of illustrious ancestors, especially in an age and country\nwhere blood is highly esteemed, and the honorable pride of family is\ncultivated. The honor and esteem in which a family has been held for\nits dignity and worth through several generations is a capital, an\noutfit for the son, secures him, in starting, the advantage of less\nwell-born competitors, and all the aid in advance of a high position\nand the good-will of the community. More is exacted of him than of\nthem; he is early made to feel that _noblesse oblige_, and that\nfailure would in his case be dishonor. He is thereby stimulated to\ngreater effort to succeed.\n\nYet we deny not that there is something else than all this in blood.\nA man's genius belongs to his soul, and is no more inherited than\nthe soul itself. But man is not all soul, any more than he is all\nbody; body and soul are in close and mysterious relation, and in this\nlife neither acts without the other. The man's natural abilities are\npsychical, not physical, and are not inherited, because the soul is\ncreated, not generated; but their external manifestation may depend,\nin a measure, on organization, and organization is inherited. Mr.\nGalton's facts may, then, be admitted without our being obliged to\naccept his theory. The brain is generally considered by physiologists\nas the organ of the mind, and it may be so, without implying that the\nbrain secretes thought, will, affection, as the liver secretes bile,\nor the stomach secretes the gastric juice.\n\nThe soul is distinct from the body, and is its _form_, its life, or\nits vivifying and informing principle; yet it uses the body as the\norgan of its action. Hence, De Bonald defines man, an intelligence\nthat serves himself by organs, not an intelligence served by organs,\nas Plato said. The activity is in the soul, not in the organs. The\norgan we call the eye does not see; the soul sees by means of the\neye. So of the ear, the smell, the taste, the touch. We speak of the\nfive senses; but we should speak more correctly if we spoke, not of\nfive senses, but of five organs of sense; for the sense is psychical,\nand is one like the soul that senses through the organs. In like\nmanner, the brain appears to be the organ of the mind, through which,\ntogether with the several nerves that centre in it, the mind performs\nits various operations of thinking, willing, reasoning, remembering,\nreflecting, etc. The nature of the relation of the soul, which is\none, simple, and immaterial, with a material body with its various\norgans, nervous and ganglionic systems, is a mystery which we cannot\nexplain. Yet we cannot doubt that there is a reciprocal action and\nreaction of the soul and body, or, at least, the bodily organs can\nand do offer, at times, an obstacle to the external action of the\nsoul. I cannot by my will raise my arm, if it be paralyzed, though\nmy psychical power to will to raise it is not thereby affected. If\nthe organs of seeing and hearing, the eye and the ear, are injured\nor originally defective, my external sight and hearing are thereby\ninjured or rendered defective; but not in other psychical relations,\nas evinced by the fact that when the physical defect is removed,\nor the physical injury is cured, the soul finds no difficulty in\nmanifesting its ordinary power of seeing or hearing. So we may say\nof the other organs of sense, and of the body generally, in so far\nas it is the organ of the soul, or used by the soul in its external\ndisplay or manifestation of its powers.\n\nNo doubt the organization may be more or less favorable to this\nexternal display or manifestation, or that, under certain conditions,\nand to a certain extent, the organization is hereditary, or\ntransmitted by natural generation. There may be transmitted from\nparents or ancestors a healthy or diseased, a normal or a more or\nless abnormal organization; and so far, and in this sense, genius\nmay be hereditary, and a man's natural abilities may be derived\nby inheritance, as are the form and features; but only to this\nextent, and in this sense--that is, as to their external display or\nexercise; for a man may be truly eloquent in his soul, and even in\nwriting, whose stammering tongue prevents him from displaying any\neloquence in his speech. The organization does not deprive the soul\nof its powers. My power to will to raise my arm is not lessened by\nthe fact that my arm is paralyzed. And in all ordinary cases, the\nsoul is able, at least by the help of grace, freely given to all,\nto overcome a vicious temperament, control, in the moral order, a\ndefective organization, and maintain her moral freedom and integrity.\nIt has been proved that the deaf-mute can be taught to speak, and\nthat idiots or natural-born fools can be so educated as to be able to\nexhibit no inconsiderable degree of intelligence.\n\nWe do not believe a word in Darwin's theory of natural selection; for\nall the facts on which he bases it admit of a different explanation,\nnor in its kindred theory of development or evolution of species. One\nof our own collaborators has amply refuted both theories, by showing\nthat what these theories assume to be the development or evolution\nof new species, whether by natural selection or otherwise, is but a\nreversion to the original type and condition, in like manner as we\nhave proved, over and over again, that the savage is the degenerate,\nnot the primeval man. It is not improbable that your African negro\nis the degenerate descendant of a once over-civilized race, and that\nhe owes his physical peculiarities to the fact that he has become\nsubject, like the animal world, to the laws of nature, which are\nresisted and modified in their action by the superior races. We do\nnot assert this as scientifically demonstrated, but as a theory which\nis far better sustained by well-known facts and incontrovertible\nprinciples than either the theory of development or of natural\nselection.\n\nYet the soul as _forma corporis_ has an influence, we say not how\nmuch, on organization; and high intellectual and moral culture may\nmodify it, and, other things being equal, render it in turn more\nfavorable to the external manifestation of the inherent powers of\nthe soul. This more favorable organization may be transmitted by\nnatural generation from parents to children, and, if continued\nthrough several consecutive generations, it may give rise to noble\nfamilies and to races superior to the average. Physical habits are\ntransmissible by inheritance. This is not, as Darwin and Mr. Galton\nsuppose, owing to natural selection, but to the original mental and\nmoral culture become traditional in certain families and races,\nand to the voluntary efforts of the soul, as is evident from the\nfact that when the culture is neglected, and the voluntary efforts\ncease to be made, the superiority is lost, the organization becomes\ndepraved, and the family or race runs out or drops into the ranks\nof the ignoble. The blood, however blue, will not of itself alone\nsuffice to keep up the superiority of the family or the race;\nnor will marriages, however judicious, through no matter how many\nconsecutive generations, without the culture, keep up the nobility,\nas Mr. Galton would have us believe; for the superiority of the\nblood depends originally and continuously on the soul, its original\nendowments, and its peculiar training or culture through several\ngenerations.\n\nIt is in this same way we explain the origin and continuance of\nnational characteristics and differences. Climate and geographical\nposition count, no doubt, for something; but more in the direction\nthey give to the national aims and culture than in their direct\neffects on bodily organization. It is not probable that the original\ntribes of Greece had any finer organic adaptation to literature\nand the arts than had the Scythian hordes from which they sprang;\nbut their climate and geographical position turned their attention\nto cultivation of the beautiful, and the continual cultivation\nof the beautiful through several generations gave the Greeks an\norganization highly favorable to artistic creations. Then, again,\nRome cultivated and excelled in the genius of law and jurisprudence.\nBut under Christian faith and culture, the various nations of Europe\nbecame assimilated, and the peculiar national characteristics under\nGentilism were in a measure obliterated. They also revive as the\nnations under Protestantism recede from Christianity and return\nto Gentilism, and are held in check only by the reminiscences of\nCatholicity, and by the mutual intercourse of nations kept up by\ntrade and commerce, literature and the arts.\n\nThe facts alleged by Mr. Galton and his brother materialists\nare, therefore, explicable without impugning the doctrine of the\nsimplicity and immateriality of the soul, and that the soul is\ncreated, not generated as is the body. They are perfectly explicable\nwithout supposing our natural abilities originate in or are the\nresult of natural organization. They can be explained in perfect\nconsistency with revelation, with the teachings of the church, and\nwith the universal beliefs of mankind. Thus it would be supreme\nunreason to require us to reject the Gospel, or our holy religion,\non the strength of the unverified and unverifiable hypotheses of the\nscientists, and degrade man, the lord of this lower creation, to the\nlevel of the beasts that perish. The quarrel we began by speaking\nof is in no sense a quarrel between faith and reason, or revelation\nand science; but simply a quarrel between what is certain by faith\nand reason on the one side, and the unverified and unverifiable\nhypotheses or conjectures of the so-called scientists on the other.\nWe oppose none of the real facts which the scientists set forth; we\noppose only their unsupported theories and unwarranted inductions. We\nconclude by reminding the scientists that others have studied nature\nas well as they, and are as familiar with its facts and as able to\nreason on them as they are, and yet have no difficulty in reconciling\ntheir science and their faith.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[285] 1. _Hereditary Genius, its Laws and its Consequences._ By\nFrancis Galton, F.R.S., etc. New York: D. Appleton & Co. 1870.\n8vo, pp. 390. 2. _Hereditary Genius._ An Analytical Review. From\nthe _Journal of Psychological Medicine_, April, 1870. New York: D.\nAppleton & Co. 1870. 8vo, pp. 19.\n\n\n\n\nDION AND THE SIBYLS.\n\nA CLASSIC, CHRISTIAN NOVEL.\n\nBY MILES GERALD KEON, COLONIAL SECRETARY, BERMUDA, AUTHOR OF \"HARDING\nTHE MONEY-SPINNER,\" ETC.\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nTwo days afterward, Dionysius the Athenian called at the inn, and\ninformed Aglais, Paulus, and Agatha, that after the banquet in the\nMamurran palace at Formi\u00e6, that evening, there was to be a great\ngathering of the witty, the noble, the fashionable, and the wise, and\nthat he was charged to invite Aglais and her two children as friends\nof his.\n\nAglais declined the honor for herself and her daughter, but said she\nwished Paulus to go with Dionysius. Paulus, therefore, laid aside\nthe outlandish costume in which he had travelled from Thessaly, and\ndressed himself with care in the fashion suitable to a young Roman\nof equestrian rank. Dionysius remained to join the family in their\nrepast, which was virtually what we should in modern times call the\nearly dinner, after which the two friends mounted Dion's chariot, and\nproceeded toward Formi\u00e6 at an easy pace, along the smooth pavement of\nthe \"queen of roads.\"\n\nDuring the drive they had a conversation which was, for good reasons,\nvery interesting to Paulus.\n\n\"A most capricious course,\" said Dionysius, \"is your suit or claim\nrunning. In seeking to recover your family estates you prudently\navoid at first bringing the holder into a court of law; for the\njudges might shrink from voiding a title which not only arises out\nof an express gift of Augustus, but is identical with the title\nunder which half the land of Italy has been held since the battle\nof Philippi. Instead of an immediate lawsuit, therefore, you try a\ndirect appeal to Augustus, offering to show him that at the very\ntime when your father's estate was taken away he had just rendered\nthe same services for which, had he been willing to accept it, he\nwould, like so many others, have had a right to be endowed with a new\nestate, taken from some member of the defeated party. But Augustus\nrefers you back to the courts, where, for the two reasons mentioned,\nyou fear the result. But two other reasons might be added for fearing\nit still more: first, the present holder is dreaded on account of his\npolitical power and his station; Tiberius is the man who, by marrying\nthe daughter of Agrippa Vipsanius, has come into possession of your\nproperty; secondly, wealth is necessary for the success of such a\nsuit; wealth he has, and wealth you have not. The courts present,\nconsequently, but small hopes; yet you fail to get Augustus to decide\nyour case himself.\n\n\"Have I correctly stated the position of your affairs?\"\n\n\"To a nicety,\" replied Paulus. \"Had I interest at court, I should\nfind justice there.\"\n\n\"In your case,\" said Dionysius, \"interest _at court_ would be\nequivalent to justice _in the courts_. As I took precisely this view\nof the business, and as Augustus has paid me such honor, and shown\nme such partiality as few have found with him for many years, it\noccurred to me that if I threw my unclaimed and unexpected _interest_\ninto the same scale wherein your just demands already lay--\"\n\n\"Ah kind and generous friend!\" interrupted Paulus; \"I understand.\"\n\n\"Not so kind, nor so generous,\" replied Dionysius, \"to my friend\nPaulus, as I saw Paulus show himself to be the day before yesterday\nto a stranger and a slave. But hear me out. No sooner did I tell\nAugustus that I had a favor to ask of him, than he placed his hand\non my mouth, and said, 'I like to hear you talk; but mine has been\ntoo busy a life to permit me to draw forth by properly opposing you\nthe full force of your own opinions--OR THE TRUTH. The truth in these\nmatters (not your affair, Paulus, but philosophy) is the only truth\nwhich can interest a man about to die. You must state these views in\nthe presence of young, vigorous, and not preoccupied intellects. If\nyou hold your own as well against what they can allege as against\nmy objections, submit to me afterward your petition. One thing at a\ntime.' This and the like, with the indomitable whim and obstinate\nwaywardness of age, he has continued to fling at me, whenever I have\nrenewed the attempt to state your case; and I have done so five or\nsix times. Titus Livy and Quintus Haterius, whom I have consulted,\nadvise me to take literally and in the spirit of downright business\nthis curious caprice. Now, do you know, to-night is appointed for a\nsort of arena-fight? All the gladiatorial intellects of the west are\nto be arrayed to crush the fantastic theories and pretty delusions\nof a Greek, an Athenian. All motives chain me, all pledges prevent\nme; moreover, honor and truth, to say nothing, my friend, of your own\npersonal future, interdict me from flight.\"\n\n\"Flight!\" cried Paulus; \"_you_ fly?\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said Dionysius; \"you know not all that I mean. You and I have\nbeen differently reared, yet in the same spirit. However, as you\nsaid, when at the risk of your own life you stood between oppression\nand an innocent young couple, the great Being whom we both expect\nwill be pleased with a willing effort after what is right.\n\n\"But here we are at the gates of Formi\u00e6. How the palace of the\nMamurras glitters! How these narrow streets flare with torches! We\nmust go at a walk. Charioteer, let the litters pass first. Yes,\nmy friend, in the painful position in which I shall be forced to\nstand to-night, (and I blush beforehand, knowing my incompetence,\nmy ignorance, and the intrinsic difficulty of what I am expected to\ndo,) your future fortunes and the rights of your family are by a\nstrange caprice made dependent upon the success with which I may be\nable to defend ideas of general and unchangeable value, beauty, and\ntruth; ideas which it debases a man not to have, and exalts him to\nentertain; ideas which were always dear to the greatest minds that\nhave preceded us, and which are reflected in every calm and pure\nsoul, as the stars in fair, sweet lakes, although the putrid, slimy\npool, and the waters tossed with storms, and an atmosphere darkened\nwith clouds, may forbid the image, by intercepting the heavenly light\nor defacing the earthly mirror.\"\n\nWhile Dionysius thus informed Paulus of the singular and close\nconnection which had arisen between the future prospects of his\nmother, his sister, and himself, as well as the establishment of\ntheir rights, and the success with which Dionysius might this night\nbe able to make good his philosophical doctrines against the wits,\nthe orators, and the sophists of the Augustan court, at the same\nmoment Tiberius was conversing upon the same subject with Domitius\nAfer and Antistius Labio in a room of the Mamurran palace.\n\n\"Just,\" said he, in continuation of a conversation previously\ncommenced, \"as if a person's claim to an estate could be rendered\neither better or worse by the style of his horsemanship!\"\n\nHere Domitius Afer laughed heartily, and showed his admiration of\nC\u00e6sar's wit. Labio, a saturnine, laborious man, son of one of the\nassassins of Julius C\u00e6sar, and author of numberless works, preserved\na grim, unsmiling air, as he observed,\n\n\"A man may ride over an estate, and over all its hedges and ditches;\nbut he must be no bad rider if he can jump his horse into a title to\nbecome its proprietor.\"\n\n\"Nevertheless, the infatuation of Augustus for the Greek friend\nof the claimant is such that if the Athenian acquits himself\nsuccessfully to-night in the M\u00e6cenas-like criticisms and Plato-like\ndiscussions which are, I suspect, to vary our entertainments, he will\nnext suffer the golden-tongued youth to state the case of Paulus\nLepidus \u00c6milius. The effect at which you must aim is to make a fool\nof the Athenian; and you are the men to do it. Refute every thing he\nsays, ridicule him, cover him with confusion; make him the gibe of\nthe whole court, the derision of the brilliant circle assembling here\nto-night. Put an end to his influence. We want no more mind-battles\nin Italy. I set dogs upon a dog. Arouse all your attention. Bend all\nyour energies. Let the stranger retire from among us in disgrace.\"\n\nThat night, the most brilliant company which could then be culled\nout of the human race was assembled in the central impluvium of the\nMamurran palace and its arcades. Lamps, hanging from the festoons of\ncreeping plants which adorned and connected the porphyry pillars of\nthe colonnades, mingled their gleam with the light of the moon and\nstars. The variety of rays, of shadows, and of coloring which were\nthus sprinkled over the flowers, the leaves, the walls and pillars,\nthe faces, figures, and dresses, produced a scene which a painter\ncould better render than words can. The central fountain was smitten\ninto a sorcery of tints, as it shed into a large basin of green\nmarble the drooping sheaf of waters, of which the materials were\nperpetually changing, and the form and outlines perfectly maintained,\nor instantly and perpetually renewed.\n\nThe Emperor, and the C\u00e6sars, Tiberius and Germanicus, with the famous\nauthors we have already more than once mentioned, Livy, and Lucius\nVarius, and Velleius Paterculus were present. \u00c6lius Sejanus, the\nprefect of the Pr\u00e6torians; Cneius Piso, the gambler; Plancina, his\nrich wife; Lucius Piso, his brother, governor of Rome; with many\npersons who then sparkled in the court orbits, but whose names have\nperished out of human memory; and Julia, the emperor's daughter,\nTiberius's new wife; and Agrippina Vipsania, lately his wife; and\nAgrippina Julia, daughter of the former, sister of the latter, wife\nof Germanicus, and mother of Caligula; and Livia, the aged wife of\nAugustus himself, all appeared among the guests. Chairs and couches\nhad been placed here and there. Augustus and the ladies we have\nmentioned were seated, some just within, others just without one of\nthe arcades, between two of its columns, so that the moonlight fell\nupon some heads, the lamplight upon others; and a wayward, dubious\nmixture of both upon the golden tresses of Agrippina Julia, and of a\nbeautiful young girl near her, on whom Domitius Afer, the celebrated\norator, was gazing with admiration. But she, when she at last\nobserved his glance, fixed upon him such a look of combined scorn\nand amazement that the advocate winced and became livid. She was\ndestined, one day, to be the subject of his fatal eloquence, and to\nappease by nothing less than her execution the vindictive vanity of\nthe _orator_, because she had spurned the ambitious love of the man.\n\nTacitus alludes to the poor Claudia Pulchra's brief tale. Quintus\nHaterius, whose Shakespeare-like variety of mind and bewitching\neloquence had, as Ben Jonson implies in a comparison already\ncited by us, few rivals, was seated not far from Augustus. Next\nsat Livy. Antistius Labio and his rival Domitius Afer, who now\noccupied the place and fame in the forum from which Haterius on\naccount of his age had withdrawn, stood leaning against a pillar,\neach with his arms folded. Both these persons, as well as Livy and\nHaterius, wore the toga; Sejanus, the scarlet _paludamentum_. The\nother male guests--except Tiberius, whose dark purple robe was\nconspicuous, and Germanicus, who was dressed in the costume of a\ncommander-in-chief--wore a species of large tunic, called _lacerna_,\nwhich (contrary to the taste of the emperor, and despite of his\nfrequently expressed disapproval) had become fashionable. The story\nmentioned by Suetonius is well known. One day Augustus, seeing\nnumbers of the people wearing the _lacerna_, asked indignantly, in a\nline of Virgil's, could these be Romans, \"_Romanos rerum dominos_,\nGENTEMQUE TOGATAM,\" and ordered the \u00e6diles to admit none but\ntoga-wearers into either the forum or the circus. But this was many\nyears before the evening with which we are now engaged.\n\nAmong the groups collected in the Mamurran palace were\nrepresentatives of the three great arts, in mastering which the\nhighest education of classic antiquity was exhausted; we mean the\narts of politics, of public speaking, and of strategy--government,\neloquence, and war. They were all represented, each of them had its\nproper image in the groups we have described. As those pursuits\nconstituted the favorite intellectual sphere, and comprehended all\nthe fields of ambition, to be eminent in any one of them was to\nsucceed in life, and to be adopted into that class of society of\nwhich so many distinguished members were entertained in the Formian\npalace on the night at which our tale has arrived.\n\nIf a man excelled, like Julius C\u00e6sar, in all the three arts named,\nhe could revolutionize the world. The mechanic arts, the fine arts,\nphilosophy, physical science, mathematics, attracted individual\nvotaries indeed; but were neglected by the ambition of a few, as well\nas by the indolence of many.\n\nThe mention of physical studies recalls Strabo, the geographer, who\nwas among the guests this evening at the palace.\n\nMany others who were there we need not enumerate; but some will\nclaim a word and a glance. When Dionysius arrived, and introduced\nPaulus to the aged knight, Mamurra, the company was already numerous.\nMamurra patted Paulus on the shoulder, and said, although the other\nday in the road he had not at once recalled old times, he remembered\nPaulus's brave father very well at the battle of Philippi; and that\nhe, Mamurra, had seen him and Agrippa Vipsanius together, rallying\nthe wing which Mark Antony had broken, and that he himself had\ncharged with the cavalry to help him. This speech was very gracious,\nand our hero, who well knew it to be true, blushed with pride and\npleasure. While the glow of this natural and honorable emotion was\nstill coloring his young face, as he bowed to Mamurra, the latter\ntook him by the arm, and said in a low voice,\n\n\"Come, let an old soldier present the son of a former comrade, whose\nlife was honorable, and whose memory is glorious, to the master for\nwhom they both fought with equal zeal, although unequal fortune.\"\n\nAugustus returned Paulus's low salutation with a faint yet not\nunkindly smile, and then looked with a sort of sleepy steadiness at\nTiberius, who heard Mamurra's words, and whose face was apparently\nflaming with a dark red rage. Near Tiberius, who now threw himself\nupon the cushions of a couch plated with gold, just opposite the\nchair which Augustus had selected, stood a tall, regular-featured,\nBrahmin-like man, in Asiatic dress, and next to this individual,\nSejanus, with his usual air of supercilious composure, yet intent\nwatchfulness.\n\nThe couch we have mentioned was long and large, and two ladies,\none old, the other young, were already sitting at the further end\nof it. The first was Antonia, the mother of Germanicus, the second\nwas Agrippina Julia, his wife. Just in front of them, upon a low\nstool, sat the son of the latter, Caius Caligula, with his eyes\nyet bandaged, as the reader will not be surprised to hear; while\nat his side, fidgeting with large, red, lubberly hands, stood a\nbig, loutish, heavy-looking boy, who was considerably the senior of\nthat dear child. This was no other than Claudius, the fourth of the\nC\u00e6sarian dynasty, (or the fifth, if Julius C\u00e6sar be accounted the\nfirst,) reserved, against his will, to mount the throne of the world\namid panic and horror, that day when Caligula shall be hacked to\npieces by Cassius Ch\u00e6rias, in the theatre of the palace at Rome.\n\nThus, three future rulers of mankind, destined to bear dire sceptres\nin dark and evil days, were around the white hairs of Augustus C\u00e6sar\nto-night.\n\nAs Paulus stepped backward after Augustus's languid but not unkindly\nreception of him, Dionysius, who was just behind, moved quickly and\ngracefully out of his way, and Claudius, the big, loutish lad, being\nimpelled thereto by the nature of him, shuffled forward so as to come\nin collision with Paulus.\n\n\"Monster!\" exclaimed Antonia, ashamed of her son's awkwardness; \"if\nI wanted to prove any one void of all mind, I would call him more\nstupid than you!\"[286]\n\nPaulus glided into the background, saying with a bow and a smile,\n\"_My_ fault!\"\n\nHe now found himself in the immediate neighborhood of that eastern\ngroup which his young sister had described as presenting themselves\none morning at the entrance of the bower in the inn garden, when she\nwas there listening to the strange conversation of Plancina; we mean\nQueen Berenice and her daughter Herodias, and her son Herod Agrippa.\n\nThey all three fixed their gaze upon him with that unabashed, hardy\nmanner peculiar to the family, and Paulus was beginning to feel\nuncomfortable in their vicinity and under their scrutiny, when\nGermanicus C\u00e6sar approached, and complimenting him upon his brilliant\nexploit two evenings before, asked him whether he would like to join\nthe expedition which was to start next day to drive the Germans from\nthe north-east of Italy?\n\nIf he would, Germanicus offered to mount him splendidly, and keep\nhim near his own person, and make him the bearer of orders to the\ngenerals; in modern phrase, give him a place on the staff. Paulus\nthanked the commander-in-chief briefly and respectfully, and asked to\nbe allowed to wait till noon next day before giving a more definite\nanswer than that he should rejoice to accept the gracious offer; his\nmother and sister had no protector except himself, and he should not\nlike to leave them, without first hearing what they said. Germanicus\nassented.\n\nDuring the short conversation of which this was the substance,\nGermanicus had moved slowly up the gravel-walk; and Paulus of course\nattended him, listening and answering, not sorry besides to put some\nspace between himself and the unpleasant Jewish group. By the time\nthey had finished speaking they had arrived opposite the couch where\nTiberius, Antonia, and Agrippina were seated, with Germanicus's\nchild, Caligula, as we have described, occupying a low stool in front\nof his mother Agrippina. Close by, leaning against a pillar, stood\na youth in the uniform of a centurion who had a most determined,\nthoughtful countenance.\n\nOn the approach of Germanicus, he briskly quitted his lounging\nattitude to salute his commander.\n\n\"Young knight,\" said Germanicus to Paulus, \"let me make you\nacquainted with as brave a youth, I think, as can be found in all the\nRoman legions; this is _Cassius Ch\u00e6rias_.\"\n\n\"Who, father,\" asked the shrill voice of the child Caligula, \"is the\nbrave youth, do you say?\"\n\n\"_Cassius Ch\u00e6rias._\"\n\n\"Are you so brave?\" persisted the impudent child, shoving up his\nbandage impatiently, and disclosing a truly disfigured and malicious\nlittle face.\n\n\"I can't see you, or what you are like. But I think I could make you\nafraid if I was emperor.\"\n\nThe man destined hereafter to deliver mankind from the boundless\nprofligacy, the wicked oppression, and the insane, raging, incredible\ncruelties of which it was daily the miserable victim by killing\nCaligula the emperor, looked steadily at Caligula the child, and said\nnot a word.\n\n\"I should like to feel your sword, whether it is heavy,\" pursued the\nchild. \"Give it me.\" And he started to his feet.\n\n\"Silence! pert baby,\" said Germanicus, pushing him back into his\nplace.\n\n\"It seems to me,\" said Augustus, looking round, and there was an\ninstantaneous hush of general conversation as he did so; \"that we\nhave represented around us Europe, Asia, and Africa. Young Herod and\nhis friends may count for Asia.\"\n\n\"You,\" added Augustus, addressing the tall, Brahmin-like man who\nstood near Tiberius, \"come from Egypt, do you not?\"\n\n\"Mighty emperor,\" returned the other in measured and sepulchral\ntones, \"I come from the land where great Babylon once was the seat of\nempire.\"\n\nNo sooner had this man opened his mouth than the observant Sejanus\nstarted.\n\nApproaching his mouth to the other's ear, he whispered,\n\n\"I have heard your voice before; you are--?\"\n\n\"I am,\" replied the other, composedly eyeing his questioner,\n\"Thrasyllus Magus--Thrasyllus, the student of the stars.\"\n\nSejanus smiled, twisted his moustache in his white fingers, and\nasked,\n\n\"Are you sure that you are not the god Hermes? and that you do not\nsometimes ride of nights, with your horse's hoofs wrapped in cloth?\"\n\nIt was now the other's turn to start.\n\n\"Do you suppose,\" pursued Sejanus, still in a whisper, \"that I had\nnot every stable in Formi\u00e6 searched the night you played that trick\non the road? I know my master Tiberius's taste for divination and\nthe various deep things you practice. You, then, are the oracle who\nreveals to him the decrees of fate?\"\n\nThe exchange of further remarks between these worthy men was here\nsuspended; for Augustus again spoke amid general attention.\n\n\"I think,\" said he, \"that we should all now be glad to hear Dionysius\nthe Athenian.\" An eager hum of assent and approval arose from the\njaded and sated, but inquisitive and critical society around.\n\n\"There are in your philosophy,\" continued Augustus, \"two leading\nprinciples, my Athenian, in support of which I am both curious and\nanxious to hear you advance some solid and convincing reasons. You\ndespise, as Cicero despised it, the notion of a plurality of gods.\nYou affirm there is only one. You say that a god who could begin to\nbe a god, or begin at all, can be no god; and that the true King of\nall kings, is the giver of whatever exists, and the recipient of\nnothing. That he is without a body, a pure and holy intelligence.\nThat as every thing else is his work, there never were, and never\nwill be, and never could be, any limits either of his power or of his\nknowledge. At the same time, you reject the notion, adopted in some\nGreek systems, that he is the soul of the visible universe, and this\nuniverse his body; affirming him to be antecedent to and independent\nof all things, and all other things to be absolutely dependent upon\nhim.\n\n\"Is it not so?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered Dionysius; \"such is my assured conviction.\"\n\n\"This, then,\" said Augustus, \"is the first question upon which I\nwish to hear you; and the second is, whether that force or principle\nwithin each of us which thinks, reflects, reasons, and is conscious\nof itself, will perish at our death, or will live beyond it, and\nis of such a nature that it will never perish, as Plato, Xenophon,\nCicero, and many other illustrious men and very great thinkers have\nso ardently contended.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said Dionysius, in a voice indescribably sweet and thrilling,\nwhile all turned their eyes toward him; \"unless that God himself\nassist me, I shall be quite unequal to the task you impose upon\nme, Augustus. I am not worthy to treat the subject upon which you\ndesire me to speak. You are aware that many learned persons in\nour Europe expect, and for a long time have expected, some divine\nbeing to appear one day among men. I see the able governor of Rome,\nLucius Piso. None will accuse Piso of credulity, none suppose him a\nweaver of idle fancies, or a dreamer of gratuitous reveries. An able\nadministrator, an accomplished man of the world, and, if he will\npardon me, more inclined to be too sarcastic than too indulgent,\nhe, nevertheless, despises not this expectation. Our learned\nfriend Strabo, whom I see near me, will tell you moreover how it\nprevails, and has from immemorial times prevailed, in various and\noften perverted forms, yet with an underlying essence of permanent\nidentity, among the innumerable nations which make some thirty\nlanguages resound through the immense expanses of Asia. But Domitius\nAfer desires to interrupt me.\"\n\nAfer said,\n\n\"I do not discern how this ancient and mysterious expectation which\nfloats vaguely through the traditions of all mankind, and in a more\ndefinite shape forms the groundwork for the whole religion of the\nJewish nation, can be at all connected either with the immortality\nof the thinking principle inside of us, or with the question whether\nthere is one supreme, absolute, and eternal God who made this\nuniverse.\"\n\n\"All I would have added,\" replied Dionysius, \"in regard to that\nexpectation was, that after the appearance of this universal\nbenefactor, many sublime ideas which hitherto only the strongest\nintellects have entertained, will probably become familiar to the\nmeanest--common to all.\n\n\"I pass to the two questions which Augustus desires to hear argued;\nand, first, let me collect the opinions of this brilliant company; I\nwill then compare them with mine. What does Antistius Labio think?\"\n\n\"I should have to invent a term to express my notion,\" said Labio.\n\"I think all things are but emanations from, and return to, the same\nbeing. What might be called _pantheism_, if we coined a word from the\nlanguage of your country, best explains, I fancy, the phenomena of\nthe universe. Every thing is growth and decay; but as decay furnishes\nlarger growth, every thing is growth at last and in the total sum.\"\n\n\"Is this growth of all things under any general control?\" asked\nDionysius.\n\n\"Each thing,\" replied Labio, \"is under the control of its own nature,\nwhich evidently it cannot change, and every inferior thing besides\nis under the control of any superior thing with which it may come\ninto relations. Thus what is _active_ is superior as such to what is\n_passive_; it is more excellent and a higher force to act upon, or\nsway, or change, or move, or form, than to be acted upon, moved, or\nmodified. The mind of an architect, for instance, is a higher force\nthan the dead weight of the inert stones from which he builds a\npalace.\"\n\n\"Then you hold that some things have force, and that there are\ngreater and smaller forces?\" asked Dionysius.\n\n\"Undoubtedly,\" said Labio.\n\n\"Which is more excellent,\" asked Dionysius, \"a force which can move\nitself, or a force which, in order to exist, must be set in motion by\nanother?\"\n\n\"This last,\" said Labio, \"is only the first prolonged; it is but a\ncontinuation, an effect.\"\n\n\"And an effect,\" pursued the Greek, \"is inferior, as such, to what\ncontrols it; and inferior also in its very nature to that which\nrequires no cause?\"\n\n\"Certainly,\" returned Labio; \"I am not so dull as to gainsay that.\"\n\n\"Now favor me with your attention,\" returned the Athenian; \"I\nwant you to extricate me from a dilemma. Either every thing which\npossesses force has received its force from something else; or there\nis something which possesses force, and which never received this\nforce from any thing else, and which, therefore, has possessed it\nfrom all eternity. Which of these two alternatives do you select?\"\n\nLabio paused, and by this time the whole of that strangely mixed\nsociety was listening with the keenest relish and the most genuine\ninterest to the conversation.\n\n\"I see whither you tend,\" replied Labio, \"but I do not believe in\nthat universal ruler and original mind, or first force, which you\nthink to demonstrate. All things go in circles, and serially. Every\nforce which exists has been derived from some other; and each in its\nturn continues the movement, or communicates the impact.\"\n\n\"Prettily expressed,\" remarked Velleius Paterculus.\n\n\"I beg Augustus,\" said the Athenian, \"to mark and remember Labio's\nwords. Every thing which has force has received its force from\nsomething else. Do you say _every thing_, Labio, without exception?\"\n\n\"Yes, every thing,\" said Labio. \"I conceive the chain to be endless.\"\n\n\"But _not having_, good Labio,\" replied the Athenian, \"goes before\n_receiving_. I cannot, and you cannot, receive that which we have\nalready. In order to say that we receive any thing, we must first be\nwithout it--must we not? The state of not having, I repeat, precedes\nthe act of receiving. Does any person deny this? Does Labio?\"\n\nNo one here spoke.\n\n\"Then,\" said the Athenian, \"in maintaining that every thing which\npossesses force _has received_ that force from something else, Labio\nnecessarily maintains that every thing which possesses force _was\nfirst without it_. I therefore perceive there must have been a time\nwhen nothing possessed any force whatever. The very first thing which\npossessed any, received it; but whence? For, at that time, there was\nnothing to give it. What says Labio? Is pantheism silent?\"\n\n\"I wish to hear more,\" said Labio; \"I will answer you afterward.\"\n\nA momentary smile, like a passing gleam, lit up the faces of those\naround, as the Athenian, looking toward Domitius Afer, requested him\nthe next to favor the company with his opinion upon the two momentous\nquestions propounded by Augustus.\n\n\"I need not, like Labio, coin a term from the Greek,\" said Afer,\n\"to describe my system. I am a materialist. I believe nothing save\nwhat my senses attest. They show me neither God nor soul; and I am\ndetermined never to accept any other criterion.\"\n\n\"Are you quite sure,\" asked Dionysius, \"that you are thus determined?\nI should like to shake such a determination.\"\n\n\"You'll fail,\" replied Afer, smiling. \"Which of your senses, then,\nhas attested to you that very determination? Can you see, taste,\nsmell, hear, or touch it? And yet you tell us you are sure of it. If\nso, you can believe in, and be sure of, something which has never\nbeen submitted to the criterion which alone you admit.\"\n\n\"A determination is not a thing,\" said Afer hastily, and with a\nlittle confusion.\n\n\"Was Julius C\u00e6sar a thing?\" persisted Dionysius; \"because if you\nbelieve that Julius C\u00e6sar existed, having heard of him and read of\nhim, your senses of hearing and seeing do not attest to you in this\ncase the existence of Julius C\u00e6sar, but simply the affirmations of\nothers that he has existed. My hearing attests to me that Strabo says\nhe has been in Spain; and this, if there were no other reason, would\nsatisfy me that Spain exists; yet it is Strabo whom I hear. I do not\nhear Spain.\"\n\nAugustus clapped his hands gently, and laughed. Domitius Afer, with\nvisible anger, exclaimed,\n\n\"I mean, that I will take nothing but upon proof. Prove that the soul\nis immortal; prove that one supreme God exists. Every thing which a\nreasonable man believes ought to be demonstrated.\"\n\n\"I hope,\" said Dionysius, \"to prove those two truths to your\nsatisfaction. But as you say that all we believe ought to be\ndemonstrated, I will first offer you a demonstration, that it is\nimpossible to demonstrate every thing. To prove any proposition,\nyou require a second; and to prove the second, in its turn, you\nrequire a third; and it is upon this third, if you admit it, that\nthe demonstration of the first depends. But if you had fifty\npropositions, or any number, in the chain, what proves _the last of\nthem_?\"\n\n\"Another yet,\" said Afer.\n\n\"But,\" said the Greek, \"either you come to a last, or you never come\nto a last. If you never come to a last proposition, you never finish\nyour proof; you leave it uncompleted; _it remains still no proof at\nall_; you have not performed what you undertook. And if you do come\nto a final proposition, which is supported by no other, what supports\nit?\"\n\nThere was a little start of pleasure in the company at the sudden\nand clear closes to which the Athenian was, each and every time,\nbringing what seemed likely to have grown into intricate and long\ndisquisitions.\n\n\"My object, Augustus,\" pursued Dion, \"was to show that we are all so\nmade that we feel compelled to believe much more than we can prove.\nOtherwise, our knowledge would be confined within narrow limits\nindeed. He who knows no more than he can demonstrate, knows but\nlittle. May I now ask the distinguished orators, Montanus and Capito,\nfor their theories respecting the questions which interest us so much\nto-night?\"\n\nQuintus Haterius prevented any answer to this appeal. \"The eloquent\nand learned thinker,\" said he--\"who will yet, I have no doubt, be the\nornament of the Athenian Areopagus--has placed me, and, I think, many\nothers near me, completely on his side, in what has hitherto passed.\nYoung as he is, he has made us feel the masterful facility with which\nhe is able to throw light upon errors placed where truth ought to\nstand. The operation is highly amusing; we could pass a long evening\nin watching it repeated against any number of antagonists. But come,\nDionysius, reverse the process; take your own ground; maintain it;\nraise there your system like your castle; and let those assail it,\nif they please, whom your aggressive genius on the contrary turns to\nassail.\"\n\n\"Haterius is right,\" said Augustus. \"I could assist at any number of\nthese collisions; but they take a form which presents your mind to\nus, my Athenian, as a hunter and conqueror rather than a founder.\"\n\n\"But I am no founder,\" replied the youth, earnestly and modestly;\n\"and I aspire to nothing of the kind. The fact is merely and simply\nthis: After much study I have arrived at the conviction--first,\nthat there is one absolutely perfect and eternal Being who governs\nthe universe; and, next, that what thinks within each of us never\nwill die. Since you desire to hear the reasons which have brought\nme to these conclusions, I cannot decline to state one or two of\nthem at least--though this place, this occasion, and this dazzling\ncompany befit the subject far less, I fear, than if a few studious\nfriends discussed it, sitting under the starry sky, on some quiet,\nunfrequented shore.\"\n\n\"Now we shall hear Plato,\" said Tiberius, with something almost like\na sneer.\n\n\"Pardon me,\" said Dionysius, \"Plato may speak for himself. You have\nhim to read; why should I repeat him? Those who miss Plato's meaning\nin his own pages would miss it in my commentary.\"\n\nJulia uttered a taunting laugh, as she glanced at her new husband\nTiberius, whom she always treated with scorn.\n\n\"You remember, Augustus,\" Dionysius continued, \"that a few minutes\nago, Antistius Labio, in answering one of my questions, stated that a\nforce which could move itself was more excellent, as such, than one\nwhich required to be set in motion by another, as the mind of the\narchitect, said he, is superior to the stones from which he builds a\npalace. Labio then very justly added, in reply to another question,\nthat what was moved only by the force of something else possessed no\nproper force of its own, its force being but a continuation of the\nfirst, an effect of the impact. He finally assented, when I showed\nthat it is impossible that every thing without exception which\npossesses force should have received it, because _not having_ goes\nbefore receiving, and because this is only another mode of saying\nthat every thing without exception was once devoid of force. If a\nparticular being has received the force it possesses, that particular\nbeing must once have been without it; and if all beings without\nexception who possess force have received it, they likewise without\nexception must all, in the same manner, have first been without it,\na supposed state during which no force at all existed anywhere. That\nany being should ever acquire force, when there was nowhere any force\nfor it to acquire, would be an unsatisfactory philosophy.\"\n\n\"There has, perhaps, been,\" said Tiberius, \"an eternal chain of these\nforces transmitting themselves onward.\"\n\n\"If,\" said the Athenian, \"you admit the existence of any one being\nwho possesses a force which he never received from another, that\nbeing is evidently eternal. But to say that a being has received its\nforce, is to say that its force has had a beginning; and to say that\nany thing begins, is to say that once it was not. A chain of forces\nall received is, therefore, a chain of forces all begun--is it not?\nNow, if they have all begun, they have all had something prior to\nthem. But nothing can be prior to what is eternal; such a chain or\nseries, therefore, cannot itself be eternal.\"\n\n\"No link is eternal,\" said Tiberius; \"but all the links of the chain\ntogether may surely be so.\"\n\nThe Athenian looked round with a smile at Tiberius, and said, \"If all\nthe forces which exist now, and all those which ever existed in the\nuniverse, without exception, have been received from something else,\nwhat is that something else _beyond all the forces of the universe_?\nThey would all without exception have begun. To say this of them, is\nmerely to say that they were all non-existent once; and this without\nexception. In other words, the whole chain, even with all its links\ntaken together, is short of eternal. If so, it has been preceded\neither by blank nothing, or by some being who has a force _not_ thus\nreceived, a force which is his own inherently and absolutely, as I\nmaintain. Tell me of a chain, the top of which recedes beyond our\nken, that the lowest link depends on the next to it, and this on\nthe third, I understand you; but if I ask what suspends the whole\nchain, with all its links taken together, it is no answer to say that\nthe links are so numerous and the chain is so long that it requires\nnothing but itself to keep it in suspension. The longer it is, the\ngreater must be the necessity of the ultimate grasp, and the stronger\nmust that grasp be; and observe, it must be truly ultimate, otherwise\nyou have not solved the difficulty; nay, the suspending force must\nbe distinct from and beyond the chain itself, or you do not account\nfor the suspension. But I will put all this past a cavil. What I\nsaid respecting proofs to Domitius Afer, I say respecting causes to\nTiberius C\u00e6sar. No one denies that various forces are operating in\nthe universe. Now, of two things, one: Either there is a first force,\nacting and moving by its own freedom, which; being antecedent to all\nother forces, not only must be independent of them all, but can alone\nhave produced them all; or else there is in the universe no force\nwhich has not some other antecedent to it. This last proposition is\neasily shown to be an absurdity; _for to say that every force has a\nforce antecedent to it, is the same as to say that all forces have\nanother force antecedent to them; in other words, that, over and\nabove all things of a given class, there is another thing of that\nclass_. Can there be more than the whole? Can there be another thing\nof a certain kind, beyond all things of that kind? Besides every\nforce, is there yet another force? If any one is here who would say\nso, I wait to hear him.\"\n\nNo one said a word.\n\n\"Then remark the conclusion,\" pursued Dionysius. \"It is a\nself-contradiction to contend that there can be one thing more of\na class than all things of that class; therefore there is not,\nand cannot be, a force antecedent to every force in the universe;\ntherefore there is, and must be, in the universe, a force which\nis the first force, a force which has not and could not have any\nother antecedent to it. Now this force, being the first, could be\ncontrolled by no other; by its action every other must have been\nproduced, and under its control every other must lie.\"\n\n\"Do not you contradict yourself?\" inquired Afer; \"you show there\ncannot be a force antecedent to all forces, and still you conclude\nthat there is.\"\n\n\"There cannot,\" said Dionysius, \"be a force antecedent to all forces,\nbecause this would be one more of a class beyond all of a class. But\nthere may be the first of the class, before which no other was;\nand this is what I have demonstrated to exist. That first force\nis antecedent, not to _all_, but to all _others_; there you stop;\nthere is none antecedent to _Him_. As he is the first force, all\nthings must have come from him. He made and built this universe; it\nis his imperial palace. You have asked me to prove that one eternal\nand omnipotent God lives. I have now given you an argument which I\nam by no means afraid, in this, or any other assembly, to call a\ndemonstration. And it is but one out of a great many.\"\n\nA low murmur of spontaneous plaudits and frank assent ran round\nthat luxurious, but highly cultivated, appreciative, and brilliant\ncompany; and one voice a little too loud was heard exclaiming,\n\n\"It is as clear as the light of day, dear Dion!\"\n\nAll eyes turned in one direction, and Paulus, whose feelings of\nadmiration and sympathy had thus betrayed him, blushed scarlet as he\nwithdrew behind the stately form of Germanicus, who looked round at\nhim smiling, half in amusement, half in kindness.\n\n\"I do think it a demonstration indeed,\" said Augustus, musing gravely.\n\n\"How strangely must that stupendous Being,\" said Strabo, the\ngeographer, \"deem of a world which has come so completely to forget\nand ignore him!\"\n\n\"Your reasoning,\" resumed Augustus, \"differs much, as you said it\nwould, from Plato's. Plato is too subtle for our Roman taste.\"\n\n\"So is he,\" said Dionysius, \"too subtle, and, I think, too\nhesitating, for the taste of most men everywhere. I admire his\ngenius, but I disclaim many of his theories, and am not a disciple of\nhis school.\"\n\n\"Of what school are you?\"\n\n\"I am dissatisfied with every school,\" replied the future convert of\nSt. Paul, blushing. \"But I am quite certain that there is only one\nGod, and that he is eternal and all-perfect.\n\n\"What I have said, I have said because I believe it; not in order\nto play at mental swords with these eloquent and gifted men, whom\nI honor. There is, if we would look for it, a reflection of this\ngreat Being in our minds like that of a star in water; but the water\nmust be undisturbed, or the light wavers and is broken. We see many\nbeings, greater and smaller. Now, who can doubt that, where there\nare greater and smaller, there must be a greatest? Each one of us is\nconscious and certain of three things: first, that he himself has not\nexisted from all eternity; secondly, each of us feels that he did not\nmake his own mind; and thirdly, that he could not make another mind.\nNow, the mind who made ours must be superior to any thing contained\nin what he thus made; therefore, although we can conceive a being of\nwhose power, knowledge, and perfection we discern no possible limit,\nthis very conception must be inferior to its object. There must exist\noutside of our mind some being greater still than the greatest of\nwhich we can form any intellectual idea, however boundless. The lead\nfused in a mould cannot be greater in its outlines than the mould\nwhich presents the form. Again, no person will contend that the\nsublime and the absurd are one and the same thing--that the terms are\nconvertible. But yet, if an absolutely perfect and sovereign being\ndid not exist, the conception which we form of such a being, instead\nof constituting the highest heaven of sublimity to which our thoughts\ncan soar, would constitute the lowest depth of absurdity into which\nthey could sink.\"\n\nA little pause followed.\n\n\"Do you, then,\" said Afer, with a subtle smile, \"introduce to us the\nnovel doctrine, that whatever is sublime must therefore be true?\"\n\n\"If I said yes,\" replied Dionysius, \"and I am not a little tempted,\nyou would succeed in drawing me aside into a very long and darkling\nroad. But I have advanced nothing to that effect. My inference\ndepended not on assuming that every thing which is sublime must be\ntrue, but on the supposition that nothing which is absurd could be\nsublime.\"\n\n\"Quite so,\" remarked Haterius; \"and was there not another inference\ndormant in what you said?\"\n\n\"There was,\" said Dionysius; \"but it looks like subtilizing to wake\nit and give it wings; and, as I am a Greek, I fear--I--in short, I\nhave tried to confine myself to the plainest and broadest reasonings.\"\n\n\"Fear not,\" said Germanicus; \"learned Greece, you know, has conquered\nher fierce vanquishers.\"\n\nTiberius gnawed his under-lip; and the Lady Plancina, glancing at him\nand then at her husband Cneius Piso, who was listening attentive but\nill at ease, exclaimed,\n\n\"Enervated them, you mean!\"\n\nGermanicus threw back his head, smiled, and remarked, \"To-morrow the\nlegions are going forth to try against the Germans whether the Roman\nheart beats as of old; what was the further inference, Athenian?\"\n\n\"Since there must,\" said Dion, \"where greater and smaller beings\nexist, be a greatest, we can all try to form some conception of him.\nNow, this conception must fall short of his real greatness. Why?\nBecause as I have demonstrated that this being is the first force,\nfrom which all others in the universe, including our minds, must\nhave come, no idea contained in our minds can be greater than the\nvery power which made those minds themselves. But, apart from this\ndemonstration, every one of us can say, a being may exist so great\nas to be incapable of non-existence. Such a being is conceivable;\nit is his non-existence which then, by the very supposition, is\ninconceivable. Now, if there be something the non-existence of which\nwould be inconceivable, while of the being himself you possess a\nnotion, thinking of him as, for example, and terming him, the first\nforce, eternal, boundless--giver of all, recipient of naught--the\ncertainty of his existence is established already _for the heart_;\nfor that faculty which precedes demonstration in accepting truth--for\nremember I have shown, and I have proved, that we are so made as to\nbe compelled to believe far more than any of us can ever demonstrate.\"\n\n\"This, then,\" said Augustus, \"is the dim image of which you spoke;\nthe reflection of the star in water?\"\n\n\"Yes, emperor,\" replied Dionysius; \"but not always dim; the deepest\nand the purest of all the lights which that water reflects. Often\nit reflects no image, however; and often it reflects but clouds and\nstorms. To say you truly conceive a thing, is to say you are certain\nof it _in the way you conceive it_. If you conceive any thing to be\ncertain, you possess the certainty of it. You may be certain that a\nthing is _un_certain; in other words, you have arrived at a clear\nnotion of its uncertainty. To conceive the contingency of an object,\nis to possess the positive idea that it is contingent. To conceive\na necessary being, is to have the clear idea not simply that he is,\n_but that he must be_. He could not be conceived at all, he could not\neven be an object of thought, as both necessary and non-existent. All\nconceivable objects, except one, are conceived as either possible\nor actual. But that one alone is conceived as necessary, and,\ntherefore, _necessarily actual_. Either a necessary being is not\nconceivable--and which of us, I should like to know, cannot sit down\nand indulge in the conception?--or, if he be so much as conceivable,\nthen his reign is recognized, because far more than his existence is\ninvolved--I mean the impossibility of his non-existence.\"\n\n\"Are all the dreams,\" said Domitius Afer, \"of a poet's imagination\ntruths because they are conceptions?\"\n\nA few moments of silence followed, and Paulus \u00c6milius looked at his\nfriend with an expression of terror which he had not exhibited in his\nown contest with the Sejan horse.\n\n\"When the poet,\" replied Dionysius, \"imagines what might have been,\nhe believes it might have been, and asks you to believe no more; but\nhe would be shocked if you believed less; would be shocked if you\ntold him he was depicting not that which had not been, for this he\ncheerfully professes, but that which _could not ever be supposed_.\nWhat I say here,\" added the Athenian, \"belongs to a different and\nsomewhat higher plane of thought. The impossibility to suppose\nnon-existent an infinitely perfect being, who, on the other hand, is\nhimself found not impossible to suppose, ought to bring home _to the\nheart_ the fact that he lives. To be able, in the first place, to\nconceive him existing, and straightway thereafter to feel an utter\ninability to form even the conception of his non-existence, because\nit is only as the necessary being and first force that we can think\nof him at all, are a handwriting upon the porch of every human soul.\nHe lives, I say it rejoicing, an eternal, necessary, and personal\nreality; the very conception of him would be an impossibility if his\nexistence were not a fact; yes, and far more than a fact, a primeval\ntruth and a primordial necessity.\"\n\nAs the Athenian thus spoke in a clear and firm voice, which seemed\nto grow more musical the more it was raised and exerted, Augustus\nstood up and paced to and fro a few steps on the gravel walk of the\nimpluvium, with his hands behind him and his eyes cast down. All who\nhad been sitting rose at the same time, except Livia, Julia, Antonia,\nand the two Agrippinas.\n\n\"This,\" whispered Tiberius in Afer's ear, \"is not much like failure,\nor derision, or disgrace for the Greek.\"\n\n\"My predecessor, Julius C\u00e6sar,\" said Augustus at length, looking\nround as he stood still, \"was the best astronomer and mathematician\nof his age--we have his calendar now to record it; the best engineer\nof his age--look at his bridge over the Rhine; the best orator,\nexcept one, to whom Rome perhaps ever listened; a most charming\ntalker and companion on any subject; a very great and simple\nwriter; as great a general probably as ever lived; a consummate\npolitician; a keen, wary, swift, yet profound thinker at all times;\na man whose intellect was one vast sphere of light; and yet I\nremember well in what anxiety and curiosity he lived respecting the\npower which governs the universe, and with what minute and even\nfrivolous precautions he was forever trying to propitiate a good\naward for his various undertakings; how he muttered charms, whether\nhe was ascending his chariot or descending, or mounting his horse\nor dismounting--in short, at every turn. Evidently it is not the\nbrightest intellects, or the most perfectly educated, which are the\nmost disposed to scout and scorn such ideas as we have just heard\nfrom Dionysius; it is precisely they who are prepared to ponder them\nthe most.\"\n\n\"Julius C\u00e6sar,\" said Tiberius, \"thought, I suspect, pretty much as a\ngreat many others do, that this is a very dark, difficult subject;\nand that we cannot expect to come to any certain conclusions.\"\n\n\"Not to _many_ conclusions,\" said Dionysius; \"that much I fully\ngrant. But two or three broad and general truths are attainable by\nmeans of reasonings as close, secure, and irresistible as any in\ngeometry. One such proof--and pray do not forget that I said it was\nonly one out of many--making clear the fact that a single eternal\nGod reigns over all things, I have laid before Augustus and this\ncompany already. My _last_ remarks, however, were not disputations,\nbut were only intended to show how those conceptions--to tear which\nfrom the mind would be to tear the heat from fire and the rays\nfrom light--tend exactly to that conclusion which I had _first_\nestablished by a rigorous demonstration.\"\n\n\"Would not some call your inference from those conceptions themselves\na demonstration also?\" asked Germanicus.\n\n\"I think,\" replied the Athenian, \"that all would so call it if we had\nbut time to examine it thoroughly. There are three other complete\nlines of argument, however, each of them as interesting as a poem;\nbut so abstruse that I will not travel along them. I will merely\nshow the gates which open into these three ascents of the glorious\nmountain. It could, then, be demonstrated, first, that all things\nare objects of mind or of knowledge, _somewhere_; secondly, that all\nthings undergo some action, or are objects of power, _somewhere_;\nthirdly, that all things are loved and cared for _somewhere_; and\nthis as forming one whole work or production that is, in their\nrelations with each other. Now, the knowledge, the power, and the\nlove (or care) in question can belong only to that first force of\nwhom I speak; and I distinctly affirm, Augustus, that I believe\nI should be quite able, not to prove by probable reasons merely,\nbut to demonstrate positively and absolutely, the existence of one\nomnipotent God, by three distinct arguments, starting from the three\npoints I have here mentioned. Yet I pass by those golden gates with a\nwistful glance at them, and no more.\"\n\n\"It is the _horn_ gates, you know,\" said Labio, smiling, \"which open\nto the true dreams.\"\n\n\"Ah! poor Virgil!\" said Augustus, first with a smile, and then with a\nlong, heart-felt sigh. \"I wish he could have heard you, my Athenian.\"\n\n\"The natures of things,\" said the Athenian, \"and the number of\nindividuals are known and counted _somewhere_; the attraction of\nphysical things is weighed in a balance somewhere, and all things\nare maintained in their order by _limits_, and protected in their\nrelations by a measured mark, _somewhere_. But as I have forbidden\nmyself this vast and difficult field, I will turn elsewhere.\"\n\n\"Before you turn elsewhere,\" exclaimed Antistius Labio, \"I would fain\ntest by a single question the soundness of the principle from which\nyou will draw no deductions; you say all things undergo some action.\nDoes not this imply the actual presence of some force in or upon all\nthings?\"\n\n\"It is not to be denied,\" answered the Athenian.\n\n\"What force,\" asked Labio, \"is actually present in or upon _inert\nmatter_?\"\n\n\"The force of cohesion,\" replied the Athenian; \"and, moreover, the\nforce of weight, which I take to be only the same force with wider\nintervals ordained for its operation.\"\n\nA dead pause of an instant or two followed, and was broken by Herod\nAgrippa, who was a person bad indeed and odious, but of great\nacuteness and natural abilities, exclaiming \"The Athenian reminds me\nof the _number_, _weight_, _and measure_ of our holy books.\"\n\n\"It is there, indeed, I found them,\" said Dionysius.\n\n\"You mentioned,\" observed Augustus, after musing a few seconds, \"that\nthe demonstration you gave us a while ago of a single eternal God was\nonly one out of many. I do not want many more, nor several more; but\none more, might gluttony ask of hospitality? We roam the halls of a\ngreat intellectual fortress and mental palace to-night, superior to\nthe palace of the Mamurras.\"\n\n\"Has it such an impluvium, Augustus?\" chuckled the old knight,\ncaressing his white moustache.\n\n\"The impluvium,\" said Dionysius, \"is that part of the palace where\nthe light of heaven falls. But the palace, Augustus, I take to be\nthe sublime theme; my poor mind is only its beggarly porter and\nostiarius. Suppose, then, there were only two beings in all the\nuniverse, one more excellent than the other, which of them would have\npreceded the other?\"\n\nNo one replied.\n\n\"If the inferior be the senior,\" pursued the Greek, \"by so much as\nthe superior afterward came to excel him, by so much that superior\nmust have obtained his perfections from nothing whatever, from blank\nnonentity; because the inferior, by the very supposition, (_ex\nhypothesi_,) had them not to bestow.\"\n\n\"The superior being,\" answered Augustus, \"must therefore be the\nelder.\"\n\n\"You speak justly, Augustus,\" said the Athenian. \"Therefore the less\nperfect could never exist, if the more perfect had not first existed.\nThe existence, then, of imperfect beings proves the prior existence\nof one all-perfect being, self-dependent, from whom the endowments\nof the others must unquestionably have been derived.\"\n\n\"Cannot things grow?\" asked Labio.\n\n\"Growth is feeding,\" answered Dion; \"growth is accretion,\nassimilation, condensation in one form of many scattered elements.\nGrowth is possible, first, if we have a seed, that is, an organism\ncapable, when fed, of filling out proportions defined beforehand;\nand, secondly, if we have the food by which it is sustained. But who\ndefines the proportions? Who ordained the form? Who formed the seed?\nWho supplies the air, the light, the food? Would a seed grow of its\nown energy if not sown in fostering earth, or placed in fostering air\nand light--in short, if not fed by the proper natural juices? Would\nit grow if starved of air, earth, light--thrown back upon its sole\nself? Is not growth necessarily stimulated _from without_?\"\n\n\"Growth is a complicated and manifold operation,\" said Augustus,\n\"implying evidently a whole world previously set systematically in\nmotion.\"\n\n\"Whence, Labio,\" asked the Athenian, \"comes your seed that will grow?\"\n\n\"From a plant,\" replied Labio.\n\n\"Whence the plant?\" pursued the Greek.\n\n\"From a seed.\"\n\n\"Which was first?\" asked Dion.\n\n\"The plant.\"\n\n\"Then that plant, at least, never came from a seed,\" said Dionysius.\n\"Whence came it?\"\n\n\"The seed was first,\" said Labio.\n\n\"Then _that_ seed,\" said Dionysius, \"never came from a plant. Whence\ncame it?\"\n\nThere was a laugh, in which not only Labio, but even Tiberius joined.\n\n\"No,\" said Dionysius; \"whatever the power which traced out\nbeforehand the limits and proportions which the seed, by growing or\nfeeding, is to fill; whatever the power which surrounds that seed,\nor other organism, with the manifold conditions for its development,\nthat power must be something more perfect and excellent than the\nelements which it thus dispenses and controls; and the existence\nof these less perfect things would have been impossible, had not\nthe other existed first. Thus, ascending the scale of beings, from\nthe less to the more excellent, the simple fact that each exists,\nproves that a being superior to it must somewhere else be found,\nand that the superior was in existence first; until we reach that\nself-existent, all-perfect, eternal being whose life accounts for a\nuniverse which his power governs, and which without him would have\nbeen an impossibility.\n\n\"Without him imperfect things could never have obtained existence,\nand could not keep it for an instant; and without recognizing him\nthey cannot be explained. This, Augustus, is the second demonstration\nfor which you have asked me. I have just touched, in passing, the\nporches which led to three others. A sixth could be derived from the\nnature of free force. No force is real which is not free. The force\nof a ball flung through the air, is really the force of something\nelse, not of the ball; a hand imparted it; that hand was moved by\nthe mind. In the mind at last, and there alone, the force becomes\nreal, because there alone it is free. All the forces of nature could\nbe shown to be thus communicated, or derivative; and the question,\nwhere do they originate? would ultimately bring us to some mind, some\nintelligence. That intelligence is God.\"\n\n\"Could not all the forces of the universe be blind and mechanical?\"\nsaid Afer.\n\n\"If so, they would none of them be free,\" said the Athenian.\n\n\"Well, be it so,\" said Afer.\n\n\"If not free,\" persisted the Greek, \"they are compulsory; if\ncompulsory, who compels them? I say, _God_. You would have to say,\n_nothing_; which is very like _having nothing to say_.\"\n\nA clamor of merriment followed this, and Dionysius had to wait until\nit subsided.\n\n\"I am only showing,\" he resumed, \"where and how the proof could be\nfound. A seventh demonstration can be derived from the moral law.\nTo deny God, or to misdescribe him, would necessitate the denial\nof any difference between good and evil, between virtue and vice.\nIt would be a little long, but very easy to establish this; far\neasier than it was to make intelligible the two proofs which I have\nalready submitted to you. I have said enough, however. This brilliant\nassemblage perceives that the belief in one sovereign and omnipotent\nmind is not a vain reverie for which nothing substantial can be\nadvanced; but a truth demonstrable, which neither human wit nor human\nwisdom can shake from its everlasting foundations.\"\n\n\"I wonder,\" said Strabo, \"whether this being, of whose knowledge and\npower there are no limits, is also mild and compassionate.\"\n\nDionysius was buried in thought for a short time, and then said,\n\n\"Pray favor me with your attention for a few moments. Love draws nigh\nto its object; hatred draws away from its object, which it never\napproaches except in order to destroy it. But the non-existent cannot\nbe destroyed; therefore the non-existent never could draw hatred\ntoward it. Hatred would say, those things are non-existent which I\nshould hate, and which I would destroy if they existed; therefore let\nthem continue non-existent. But this sovereign being is antecedent\nto all things; in his mind alone could they have had any existence\nbefore he created them. If, then, he drew near them, so to speak,\napproached them, called them out of nothing into his own palace, the\npalace of being, love alone could have led him. Therefore, by the\nmost rigorous reasoning, it is evident that creation is inexplicable\nexcept as an act of love. It is more an act of love than even\npreservation and protection. This omnipotent being, then, must be\nlove in perpetual action; love in universal action, boundless and\neverlasting love.\"\n\n\"Certainly yours is a grand philosophy,\" said Augustus.\n\n\"This sublime being,\" pursued Dionysius, \"is, and cannot but be,\nan infinite mind; he is boundless knowledge, boundless power, and\nboundless goodness. The mere continuance from day to day of this\nuniverse--\"\n\nHere the Athenian suddenly stopped and looked round.\n\n\"Why, were the most beneficent human being that ever lived,\"\nexclaimed he, \"able by a word to cast the universe into\ndestruction; were it in his power to say, at any moment of wrath or\ndisappointment, that the sun should not rise on the morrow, mankind\nwould fall into a chronic frensy of terror.\"\n\n\"If,\" cried a shrill voice--that of the child Caligula--\"if the sun\nshines and one cannot see, it is no use! I know what I would do with\nthe sun to-morrow morning, unless I recover the use of my eyes.\"\n\n\"What?\" asked Dionysius.\n\n\"I'd blow it out!\" cried the dear boy, tearing off his bandage,\nstamping his feet, and turning toward his interrogator a face neither\nbeautiful in feature nor mild in expression.\n\n\"The sun is in good keeping,\" said the Athenian.\n\nAugustus turned, after a short, brooding look at Caligula, to\nHaterius, and said,\n\n\"What think you, my Quintus? Has our Athenian made good his theories?\"\n\n\"He has presented them like rocks of adamant,\" responded Haterius.\n\"Dionysius has convinced me perfectly that the universe has been\nproduced and is governed by the great being of whom he has so\nearnestly and so luminously spoken.\"\n\n\"Yet one word with you, young philosopher,\" said Antistius Labio,\nsending a glance all round the circle, and finally contemplating\nintently the broad, candid brow and kindly blue eyes of the Athenian;\n\"one word! You remarked that you could prove all things to be cared\nfor and loved somewhere. You afterward mentioned that the care or\nlove in question could be exercised by none save the stupendous\nking-spirit whose existence, I confess, you almost persuade me to\nbelieve. But now solve me a difficulty. You have alluded to the moral\nlaw. You maintain, although this has not been a subject of our debate\nto-night, the immortality of our souls. Finally--none can forget\nit--you hinted that there could be no morality, no difference between\nright and wrong, virtue and vice, were there not one sovereign God.\nDoes this mean, or does it not, that morality is that which pleases\nhis eternal and therefore unchanging views?\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said Dionysius, \"I perceive your drift. You land me amid real\nenigmas. But go on; I answer honestly--_Yes_.\"\n\n\"Then,\" pursued Labio, \"if the ghost within us be immortal, it will\nbe happy after death, provided it shall have pleased this being, and\nmiserable should it have offended him.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Now, Augustus,\" persisted Labio, \"what would you think of the\njustice of a monarch who proclaimed rewards for conforming with his\nwill, and punishments for thwarting it, but at the same time would\nnot make it known what his will was, nor afford any protection to\nthose who might be desirous of giving it effect?\n\n\"Can Dionysius of Athens or any body else tell us what are the\nspecial desires of this great being in our regard? Does he imagine\nthat unlettered, mechanical, toiling men have either understandings\nor the leisure to arrive at the conclusions which his own splendid\nintellect has attained? Then why is there not some authoritative\nteacher sent down among men from heaven?\"\n\nDionysius answered not. Labio continued,\n\n\"I speak roughly and plainly. I transfix him with his own principles.\nHe is too honest not to feel the force of what I say. He cannot\nreply. Mark next: we live but a short while in this world; and if we\nbe immortal, our state here is downright contemptible in importance\ncompared with that which has to come; and yet he tells us that\nthis contemptible point of time, this mere dot of existence, is\nto determine our lot for everlasting ages, and he that says this\nproclaims the being whose existence he certainly has demonstrated\nto be the very principle of love itself. Yet this being who will\nestablish our destinies according as we please him, tells us not how\nto do it.\"\n\nAgain the Athenian refrained from breaking the expectant silence\nwhich ensued.\n\n\"Would not one imagine,\" said Strabo, \"that the most particular\ninstructions would be given to us how to regulate a conduct upon\nwhich so much depends?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" observed Labio; \"and not instructions alone, but instructors,\nto whom occasional reference would be always possible.\"\n\nAll eyes turned toward Dionysius. He blushed, hesitated, and at last\nsaid,\n\n\"You only echo thoughts long familiar to my mind. I cannot answer; I\nam not capable of solving these difficulties. Time is not completed.\nI think, like the Sibyls, that some special light is yet to come down\nfrom heaven.\"\n\nHere the conversation ended.\n\nHalf an hour afterward, Dionysius, who had begged to be excused for\nthat night from entering upon the second of the two doctrines which\nhe had been challenged to sustain, was walking part of the way with\nPaulus toward the Inn of the Hundredth Milestone, along the fretwork\nof light which was shed upon the Appian Road by the moon and stars\nthrough the leaves of the chestnut-trees.\n\n\"I feel confident, Paulus,\" said he, \"that Augustus will restore your\nfamily estates; and should you accept the liberal offer of Germanicus\nC\u00e6sar, and depart upon this German expedition to-morrow morning, I\nwill watch your interests while you are absent.\"\n\n\"I know it well, generous friend,\" replied the other youth; \"and I do\nhope my mother will not object to my going. Only think, I may come\nback a military tribune! Only think!\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Dion, \"and enter that great castle which glitters yonder\nin the moonlight as proprietor.\"\n\n\"If so, will you not,\" said Paulus, \"come and stay with us?\"\n\n\"That is an engagement,\" said the Athenian, \"provided some day you\nwill all pay me a return visit at Athens.\"\n\n\"We'll exchange the _tessera hospitalis_ on it,\" exclaimed Paulus.\n\nThus they parted on the moonlit road, Dionysius returning to Formi\u00e6,\nand Paulus walking onward with long, rapid strides.\n\n    TO BE CONTINUED.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[286] \"_Mater Antonia portentum eum hominis dictabat; nec absolutum\n\u00e0 natur\u00e2, sed tantum inchoatum; ac si quem socordi\u00e6 argueret,\nstultiorem aiebat filio suo Claudio._\" _Sueton._ in Claud. s. 3.\n\n\n\n\nTRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH.\n\nOUR LADY OF LOURDES.\n\nBY HENRI LASSERRE.\n\n\nPART I.\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\nThe full and complete history of the remarkable apparition of Lourdes\nis now, for the first time, presented to the English-speaking\nCatholic public. Mr. Lawlor has given an abridgment of M. Lasserre's\nnarrative, with some interesting additions from other sources, in his\ncharming volume, _Pilgrimages in the Pyrenees and Landes_. A short\nsketch of the history of the events at Lourdes has also been given\nin the _Irish Ecclesiastical Record_, of Dublin. In this country the\n_Ave Maria_ is now engaged in republishing Mr. Lawlor's sketch of\nthe history. We trust our readers will thank us for placing before\nthem the full and authentic history of M. Lasserre, a work which\nhas received the favorable notice of the most competent judges, and\nhas been honored by a brief of felicitation from the Holy Father.\nThe author, who was himself one of the subjects of the miraculous\nefficacy of the water of the fountain of Lourdes, has spared no\npains to make his work perfectly satisfactory. The evidence, which\nhe has collected and arranged with consummate care and skill, leaves\nnothing to be desired in respect to the proof of the reality and\nthe supernatural character of the events related. The charm of his\nstyle, the subtle and powerful irony which he employs with so much\neffect against the sceptics who deny the possibility of any sort\nof supernatural incidents, and the vivacity of his descriptions,\nmake his work extremely pleasant and profitable reading. Our devout\nCatholic readers will find great delight in perusing M. Lasserre's\nnarrative; and others, although they may receive it with a smile of\nincredulity, and perhaps favor us with a few witticisms in respect to\nits contents, will find it to be, as the French sceptics have found\nit, a very tough subject for any thing like serious and reasonable\nrefutation.--EDITOR OF THE CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\n\nI.\n\nThe little town of Lourdes is situated in the department of the\nUpper Pyrenees, at the entrance to the seven vales of Lavedan, and\nbetween the low hills that sink into the plain of Tarbes and the\nsteeper ranges which grow into the Grande Montagne. Its houses, built\nirregularly on a natural terrace, are grouped, in almost absolute\ndisorder, around the base of a rocky spur, on the summit of which the\nformidable castle sits like an eyrie. Along the base of the cliff,\non the side opposite the town, the Gave dashes boisterously through\ngroves of alder, ash, and poplar, and, pausing at numerous dykes,\nturns the equally sonorous machinery of several mills. The hum of the\ndriving-wheels and the jar of the rattling stones mingle with the\nmusic of the winds and the splash of the rushing water.\n\nThe Gave is formed by several torrents from the upper valleys, which\nspring from the glaciers, whose spotless snow covers the barren sides\nof the Haute Montagne. The principal tributary comes from the cascade\nof Gavarnie, which falls from one of those peaks never scaled by man.\nLeaving on its right the town, the castle, and, with one exception,\nall the mills of Lourdes, the Gave hastens toward Pau, which it\npasses with all speed, to throw itself into the Adour, and thence\ninto the sea.\n\nIn the neighborhood of Lourdes, the country which skirts the Gave is\nby turns wild and savage, and fair and smiling. Blooming meadows,\ncultivated fields, woodland, and barren cliffs are alternately\npresented to the gaze. Here are fertile plains and smiling\nlandscapes, the highway of Pau, never without its wagons, horsemen,\nand pedestrian travellers; yonder, the giant mountains and their\nawful solitudes.\n\nThe castle of Lourdes, almost impregnable before the invention of\nartillery, was formerly the key of the Pyrenees. Tradition says that\nCharlemagne, warring with the infidels, was unable to carry this\nstronghold. Scarcely had he determined to raise the siege, when an\neagle seated itself on the highest tower of the citadel, and let\nfall a large fish which it had caught up from some neighboring lake.\nEither because it happened on the day when the holy church prescribes\nabstinence from flesh-meat, or because the fish was at that time the\npopular symbol of Christianity, the infidel commander, Mirat, saw in\nthis fact a prodigy, and, demanding instruction, was converted to\nthe true faith. This conversion was all that was necessary to bring\nhis castle into the hands of Christendom. Nevertheless, the Saracen\nstipulated, as says the chronicler, \"that in becoming the knight of\nOur Lady, the Mother of God, his lands, both for himself and his\ndescendants, should be free from every worldly fief, and should\nbelong to her alone.\"\n\nThe arms of the town still bear, in testimony of this extraordinary\nfact, the eagle and the fish. Lourdes carries, on a red field, three\ngolden towers, pointed with sable, on a silver rock; the middle tower\nis higher than the others, and is surmounted by a black spread eagle,\nlimbed with gold, holding in his beak a silver trout.\n\nDuring the middle ages, the castle of Lourdes was an object of terror\nto the surrounding country. At one time in the name of the English,\nat another in that of the Counts of Bigorre, it was occupied by\nrobber chieftains, who cared for little besides themselves, and who\nplundered the inhabitants of the plain for forty or fifty leagues\naround. They even had the audacity, it is said, to seize goods and\nmen at the very gates of Montpellier, and then to retreat, like birds\nof prey, to their inaccessible abode.\n\nIn the eighteenth century, the castle of Lourdes became a\nstate-prison. It was the Bastille of the Pyrenees. The revolution\nopened the gates of this prison to three or four persons, confined\nthere by the arbitrary command of despotism, and in return peopled\nit with several hundred criminals of quite another description. A\ncontemporary writer has copied from the jailer's record the offences\nfor which the prisoners had been immured. Besides the name of each\nprisoner, the specifications of the crime are thus formulated:\n\"Unpatriotic.--Refusing to give the kiss of peace to citizen N----\nbefore the altar of our country.--Busybody.--Drunkard.--Indifferent\nabout the revolution.--Hypocritical character, reserved in his\nopinions.--Lying character.--A peace-loving miser.--Indifferent\ntoward the revolution,\" etc., etc.[287]\n\nWe may thus see what reason the revolution had to complain of the\narbitrary conduct of kings, and also how it changed the frightful\ndespotism of the monarchy into a reign of peace, toleration, and\nperfect liberty.\n\nThe empire still retained the fortress of Lourdes as a state-prison,\nand this character it kept until the return of the Bourbons. After\nthe restoration, the terrible castle of the middle ages naturally\nbecame a place of less importance, garrisoned by a company of\ninfantry.\n\n\nII.\n\nThe tower still remains the key of the Pyrenees, but in a very\ndifferent way from what it was formerly. Lourdes is at the junction\nof the roads to the various watering-places. In going to Bar\u00e8ges,\nto Saint-Sauveur, to Cauterets, to Bagn\u00e8res-de-Bigorre, or from\nCauterets or Pau to Luchon, in any case, one must pass through\nLourdes. During the fashionable season, countless diligences,\nemployed in the service of the baths, stop at the Hotel de la Poste.\nGenerally they allow the travellers sufficient time to dine, to visit\nthe castle, and to admire the country, before passing on.\n\nThus from the constant visits of bathers and tourists from all parts\nof Europe, this little town has been brought to quite an advanced\nstate of civilization.\n\nIn 1858, the earliest date of our story, the Parisian journals were\nregularly received at Lourdes. The _Revue des Deux-Mondes_ counted\nthere many subscribers. The inns and caf\u00e9s presented their guests\nwith three numbers of the _Si\u00e8cle_, that of the latest date and\nthe two preceding ones. The _bourgeoisie_ and clergy divided their\npatronage between the _Journal des D\u00e9bats_, the _Presse_, _Moniteur_,\n_Univers_ and _Union_.\n\nLourdes had a club, a printing-house, and a journal. The _sous\npr\u00e9fet_ was at Argel\u00e8s; but the sorrow which the inhabitants of\nLourdes showed for the absence of this functionary was tempered by\nthe joy of possessing the _Tribunal de premi\u00e8re instance_, that is,\nthree judges, a president, a _procureur imp\u00e9rial_, and a deputy.\nAround this brilliant centre revolved as inferior satellites, a\njustice of the peace, a commissary of police, six constables, and\nseven gendarmes, one of whom was invested with the rank of corporal.\nInside of the town we find a hospital and a prison; and circumstances\nsometimes come to pass, as we shall have occasion to state, in which\nindependent spirits, nourished with the sound and humane doctrines of\nthe _Si\u00e8cle_, think that criminals should be put into the hospital\nand the sick into the jail. But these gentlemen of such extraordinary\nreasoning powers are not in exclusive possession at the bar of\nLourdes and in the medical profession; men of great learning and high\ndistinction are to be met--remarkable minds and impartial observers\nof facts--such as are not always to be found in more important cities.\n\nMountaineers are generally endowed with strong and practical good\nsense; and the people of this neighborhood, almost unmixed with\nforeign blood, excel in this respect. Scarcely one place in France\ncould be cited where the schools are better attended than at\nLourdes. There is hardly a boy who does not for several years go to\nlay-teachers or to the institution of the \"Brothers;\" hardly a little\ngirl who does not complete the course of instruction at the school of\nthe Sisters of Nevers. Far better taught than the mechanics of most\nof our cities, the people of Lourdes still preserve the simplicity\nof rural life. They have warm veins and southern heads, but upright\nhearts and a perfect morality. They are honest, religious, and not\nover-inclined to novelties.\n\nCertain local institutions, dating back to forgotten times,\ncontribute toward maintaining this happy state of things. The people\nof these regions, long before the pretended discoveries of modern\nprogress, had learned and practised, under the shadow of the church,\nthose ideas of union and prudence which have given rise to our\nmutual aid societies. Such associations have for centuries existed\nand worked at Lourdes. They date from the middle ages; they have\nsurvived the revolution, and philanthropists would long since have\nmade them famous, if they had not drawn their vitality from religion,\nand if they were not called to-day, as in the fifteenth century,\n\"confraternities.\"\n\n    \"Nearly all the people,\" says M. de Lagr\u00e8ze, \"enter these pious\n    and benevolent associations. The mechanics, whom the title\n    of brotherhood thus unites, place their labor under heavenly\n    patronage, and exchange with one another assistance in work and\n    the succors of Christian charity. The common alms-box receives\n    a weekly offering from the stout and healthy artisan, to return\n    it at some future day when the charitable hands can no longer\n    earn wages.\"\n\nOn the death of a laborer the association pays the funeral expenses\nand accompanies the body to its resting-place.\n\n    \"Each confraternity except two, who share the high altar\n    between them, has a particular chapel, whose name it takes,\n    and which it supports by the collection made every Sunday.\n    The confraternity of Notre Dames des Gr\u00e2ces is made up of\n    farmers, tillers of the soil; that of Notre Dame de Monsarrat,\n    of masons; that of Notre Dame du Mont Carmel, of slaters; that\n    of St. Anne, of carpenters; that of St. Lucy, of tailors and\n    dress-makers; that of the Ascension, of quarry-workers; that\n    of the Blessed Sacrament, of church-wardens; that of St. James\n    and St. John, of all who have received either of these names in\n    holy baptism.\"\n\nThe women are likewise divided Into similar religious associations.\nOne of them, \"the Congregation of Children of Mary,\" has a special\ncharacter. It is also a society for mutual aid and encouragement, but\nin relation to spiritual things. To enter this congregation, although\nit is merely an association of persons living in the secular state,\nand not a religious society, a young person must give evidence that\nshe possesses a well-tried steadiness of character. The young girls\nlook forward to it for a long time before they reach the proper age\nfor admission. The members of the congregation are bound never to\nput themselves in danger by frequenting worldly festivities where\nthe religious spirit is lost, nor to adopt eccentric fashions, but\nto be exact in attending the meetings and instructions on Sunday. It\nis an honor to belong to this association, a disgrace to be excluded\nfrom it. And the amount of good which it has done in maintaining\npublic morality and preparing good mothers of families, is truly\nincalculable. In many dioceses, confraternities have been founded on\nthe same plan and after this model.\n\nThis part of the country has ever shown great devotion to the Blessed\nVirgin. Her sanctuaries are numerous throughout the Pyrenees from\nPi\u00e9tat or Garaison to B\u00e9tharram. All the altars of the church of\nLourdes have been dedicated under the invocation of the Mother of\nGod.\n\n\nIII.\n\nSuch was Lourdes ten years ago.\n\nThe railway did not pass through it; indeed, no one then dreamed that\nit ever would. A much more direct route seemed to be marked out in\nadvance for the line through the Pyrenees.\n\nThe entire town and fortress are situated, as we have said, on\nthe right bank of the Gave, which, prevented from going north by\nthe rocky foundation of the castle, turns at a right angle to the\nwest. An old bridge, built at some distance above the first houses\ncommunicates with the plains, meadows, forests, and mountains of the\nleft bank.\n\nOn this side of the stream, below the bridge, and nearly opposite\nthe castle, an aqueduct conducts much of the water of the Gave into\na large canal. The latter rejoins the main stream at the distance\nof one kilometre below, after having passed along the base of the\ncliffs of Massabielle. The long island thus formed by the Gave and\nby the canal is a large and fertile meadow. In the neighborhood it\nis called l'Ile du Ch\u00e2let, or more briefly, le Ch\u00e2let. The mill of\nS\u00e2vy is the only one on the left bank, and is built across the canal,\nthus serving as a bridge. This mill and le Ch\u00e2let belong to a citizen\nof Lourdes, M. de Laffite. In 1858, as wild a place as could be\nfound in the neighborhood of the thriving little town, which we have\ndescribed, was at the foot of these cliffs of Massabielle, where the\nmill-race rejoins the Gave. A few paces from the junction, on the\nbanks of the river, the steep rock is pierced at its base by three\nirregular excavations, fantastically arranged, and communicating\nlike the pores of a huge sponge. The singularity of these excavations\nrenders them difficult to be described. The first and largest is on\na level with the ground. It resembles a trader's booth, or a kiln\nroughly built, and cut vertically in two, thus forming a half dome.\nThe entrance, formed into a distorted arch, is about four metres in\nheight. The breadth of the grotto, a little less than its depth, is\nfrom twelve to fifteen metres. From this entrance the rocky roof\nlowers and narrows on the right and left.\n\nAbove and to the right of the spectator, are found two openings\nin the rock, which seem like adjoining caves. Seen from without,\nthe principal one of these openings has an oval form, and is about\nthe size of an ordinary house window or niche in a church wall.\nIt pierces the rock above, and at a depth of two metres divides,\ndescending on one side to the interior of the grotto and ascending\non the other toward the outside of the rock, where its orifice forms\nthe second cave of which we have spoken, which is of use to let in\nlight upon the others. An eglantine growing from a cleft in the\nrock extends its long branches around the base of this orifice, in\nthe form of a niche. At the foot of this system of caves, so easy\nto comprehend to one who looks upon it, but complicated enough for\none who tries to give merely a word-sketch, the water of the canal\nrushes over a chaos of enormous stones to meet the Gave, a few steps\nfarther on. The grotto, then, is close by the lower point of the\nIle du Ch\u00e2let, formed, as we have said, by the Gave and the canal.\nThe caverns are called the Grotte de Massabielle, from the cliffs\nin which they are situated. \"Massabielle\" signifies in the _patois_\nof the place, \"old cliffs.\" On the river banks, below, a steep and\nuncultivated slope, belonging to the _commune_, extends for some\ndistance. Here the swineherds of Lourdes frequently bring their\nanimals to feed. When a storm arises, these poor people shelter\nthemselves in the grotto, as do likewise a few fishermen who cast\ntheir lines in the Gave. Like other caves of this kind, the rock is\ndry in ordinary weather, and slightly damp in times of rain. But\nthis dampness and dripping of the rainy season can be noticed only\non the right side of the entrance. This is the side on which the\nstorms always beat, driven by the west wind; and the phenomena here\ntake place which can be noticed on the honey-combed walls of stone\nhouses, similarly exposed, and built with bad mortar. The left side\nand floor, however, are always as dry as the walls of a parlor. The\naccidental dampness of the west side even sets off the dryness of the\nother parts of the grotto.\n\nAbove this triple cavern the cliffs of Massabielle rise almost into\npeaks, draped with masses of ivy and boxwood, and folds of heather\nand moss. Tangled briers, hazel shoots, eglantines, and a few trees,\nwhose branches the winds often break, have struck root in clefts of\nthe rock, wherever the crumbling mountain has produced or the wings\nof the storm have borne a few handfuls of soil. The eternal Sower,\nwhose invisible hand fills with stars and planets the immensity of\nspace, who has drawn from nothing the ground which we tread, and its\nplants and animals, the Creator of the millions of men who people\nthe earth, and the myriads of angels who dwell in heaven, this God,\nwhose wealth and power know no bounds, takes care that no atom shall\nbe lost in the vast regions of his handiwork. He leaves barren no\nspot which is capable of producing any thing. Throughout the extent\nof our globe, countless germs float in the air, covering the earth\nwith verdure, where there seemed before no chance of life for even a\nsingle herb, or tuft of moss. Thus, O Divine Sower! thy graces, like\ninvisible but fruitful motes, float about and rest upon our souls.\nAnd, if we are barren, it is because we present hearts harder and\nmore arid than the rocky and the beaten highway, or covered with\ntangled thorns that prevent the up-growing of thy heavenly seed.\n\n\nIV.\n\nIt was requisite to the ensuing narrative to describe first the scene\nwhere its events took place. But it is of no less importance to point\nout in advance that profound moral truth, which is the starting-point\nfrom which this history begins, in the course of which, as we shall\nsee, God manifested his power in a visible manner. These reflections\nwill, moreover, delay only for an instant the commencement of our\nnarrative.\n\nEvery one has noticed the striking contrasts presented by the\nvarious conditions of men who live on this earth, where wicked and\ngood, rich and needy, are mingled together, and where a thin wall\noften separates the hovel from the palace. On one side are all the\npleasures of life, softly arranged in the midst of rare delicacies,\ncomfort, and the elegance of luxury; on the other, the horrors of\nwant, cold, hunger, sickness, and all the sad train of human woes.\nFor the former, adulation, joyous visits, charming friendships. For\nthe latter, indifference, loneliness, and neglect. Whether it fears\nthe importunity of his spoken or his mute appeals, or shrinks from\nthe rebuke of his wretched nakedness, the world avoids the poor man,\nand makes its arrangements without regard to him. The rich form an\nexclusive circle, which they call \"good society,\" and they regard\nas unworthy of serious attention the existence of those secondary\nbut \"indispensable\" beings. When they hire the services of one of\nthe latter--even when they are good people and accustomed to succor\nthe needy--it is always in a patronizing way. They never use, in\nthis case, the language and tone which they apply to one of their\nown kind. Except a few rare Christians, no one treats the poor man\nas an equal and a brother. Except the saint--alas! too rare in\nthese days--who follows out the idea of looking upon the wretched\nas representing Christ! In the world, properly so called, the vast\nworld, the poor are absolutely forsaken. Weighed down beneath the\nburden of toil and care, despised and abandoned, does it not seem\nas if they were cursed by their Maker? And, yet, it is just the\ncontrary; they are the best beloved of the Father. While the world\nhas been pronounced accursed by the infallible word of Christ, on\nthe other hand, the poor, the suffering, the humble, are God's \"good\nsociety.\" \"Ye are my friends,\" he has said to them in his Gospel. He\nhas done more; he has identified himself with them. \"What you have\ndone to the least of these, you have done also to me.\"\n\nMoreover, when the Son of God came upon the earth, he chose to be\nborn, and to live and die, among the poor, and to be a poor man.\nFrom the poor he selected his apostles and his principal disciples,\nthe first-born of his church. And, in the long history of that same\nchurch, it is upon the poor that he lavishes his greatest spiritual\nfavors. In every age, and with few exceptions, apparitions, visions,\nand particular revelations have been the privilege of those whom the\nworld disdains. When, in his wisdom, God sees fit to manifest himself\nsensibly to men, by these mysterious phenomena, he descends into the\ndwellings of his servants and particular friends. And mark why he\nprefers the houses of the poor and humble. Two thousand years have\nonly served to verify that saying of the apostle, \"The weak things of\nthe world hath God chosen, that he may confound the strong.\" (1 Cor.\ni. 27.)\n\nThe facts which we are about to state will perhaps furnish further\nproof of this truth.\n\n\nV.\n\nIn 1858, the eleventh of February opened the week of profane\nrejoicing which from time immemorial has preceded the austerities of\nLent. It was the _Jeudi-Gras_, or Thursday before Quinquagesima. The\nweather was cold and slightly overcast, but very calm. The clouds\nhung motionless in the heavens; there was no breeze abroad; and the\natmosphere was perfectly still. At times a few drops of rain fell\nfrom the skies. This day is celebrated by special privilege in the\ndiocese of Tarbes as the feast of the illustrious shepherdess of\nFrance, St. Genevieve.[288]\n\nEleven o'clock in the morning had already sounded from the church\ntower of Lourdes.\n\nWhile all the neighborhood was preparing for the festivities, one\nfamily of poor people who lived as tenants of a miserable dwelling\nin the Rue des Petits-Foss\u00e9s, had not even enough wood to cook their\nscanty dinner. The father, still a young man, was by trade a miller,\nand had for some time endeavored to run a little mill which he had\nleased on one of the streamlets that go to make up the Gave. But\nhis business exacted advances, the people being accustomed to have\ntheir wheat ground on credit; and the poor miller had been forced to\ngive the mill back to the firm, and his labor, instead of putting\nhim in better circumstances, had only helped to throw him into utter\npoverty. Waiting for brighter days, he labored--not at his own place,\nfor he had no property, not even a small garden--but at various\nplaces belonging to his neighbors, who employed him occasionally as\na day laborer. His name was Fran\u00e7ois Soubirous, and he was married\nto a faithful wife, Louise Cast\u00e9rot, who was a good Christian, and\nkept up his courage by loving sympathy. They had four children: two\ndaughters, the elder of whom was fourteen years of age; and two boys,\nstill quite young, the smaller being scarcely four years old.\n\nFor fifteen days only, had their older daughter, a puny child from\ninfancy, lived with them. This is the little girl who is to play an\nimportant part in this narrative, and we have carefully studied all\nthe details and particulars of her life. At the time of her birth,\nher mother, being ill, was unable to nurse the child, and she was\nconsequently sent to the neighboring village of Bartr\u00e8s. Here the\ninfant remained after being weaned. Louise Soubirous, having become\na mother for the second time, would have been kept at home by the\ncare of two children and hindered from going out to daily service\nor to the fields, which, however, would not be the case if her care\nwere limited to one. Accordingly the parents left their first-born at\nBartr\u00e8s. They paid for her support, sometimes in money, more often in\nkind, five francs a month.\n\nWhen the little girl grew old enough to be useful, and the question\narose as to bringing her home, the good peasants who had reared her\nfound themselves attached to her, and, considering her as one of\ntheir own, no longer charged her parents any thing, and employed her\nto tend their sheep. Thus she grew up in her adopted family, passing\nher days in solitude on the lonely hill-tops, where her humble flock\ngrazed.\n\nOf prayers she knew none except the rosary. Whether her foster-mother\nhad recommended it to her, or whether it was the dictate of her pure\nand innocent heart, she kept up the hourly practice of reciting this\nprayer of the simple. Then she amused herself with those natural\nplaythings which kind providence furnishes for the children of the\npoor, and with which they are more content than their richer cousins\nwith costly toys. She played with the pebbles, piling up miniature\ncastles, with the flowers which she culled on every side, with the\nwater of the brooklet, where she launched and followed great fleets\nof leaf-boats; besides, she had her pets among the flock. \"Of all\nmy lambs,\" she said, \"there is one that I prefer to all the rest.\"\n\"And which is it?\" asked somebody. \"The one that I most love is\nthe smallest one.\" And she delighted in fondling and caressing it.\nShe herself was among children like her own darling in the flock.\nAlthough she was already fourteen years old, she seemed no more than\neleven or twelve. Without being rendered infirm, she was subject to\nasthmatic affections, which at times caused her great pain. She bore\nher ills patiently and accepted her physical sufferings with that\nresignation which seems so difficult to the rich, but to the needy so\nvery natural.\n\nIn this innocent and silent school the poor shepherdess learned that\nwhich the world knows not; the simplicity of soul which pleases the\nheart of God. Far from every impure influence, conversing with the\nBlessed Virgin Mary, passing her time in crowning her with prayers\nand telling her chaplet, this little maid preserved that absolute\npurity and baptismal innocence which the breath of the world so\neasily tarnishes, even in the best. Such was this childish soul,\nbright and calm as the unknown lakes which lie hidden among lofty\nmountains and silently reflect the splendors of heaven. \"Blessed are\nthe clean of heart,\" says the Gospel; \"for they shall see God.\"\n\nThese great gifts are concealed treasures, and the humility which\npossesses them is often unconscious of their presence. The little\ngirl of fourteen years charmed all who happened to approach her, and\nyet she was entirely unaware of it. She considered herself as the\nleast and most backward of her age. Indeed, she did not know how to\nread or write. Moreover, she was an entire stranger to the French\ntongue, and knew only her own poor _patois_ of the Pyrenees. She had\nnever learned the catechism, and in this respect her ignorance was\nextraordinary. The Our Father, Hail Mary, Apostles' Creed, and Glory\nbe to the Father, which make up the chaplet, constituted the sum of\nher religious knowledge. Hence it is unnecessary to add that she had\nnot yet made her first communion. It was to prepare her for this,\nthat the Soubirous determined to bring her home, in spite of their\npoverty, and send her to the catechetical instructions at Lourdes.\n\nShe had now been for two weeks under her father's roof. Alarmed by\nher asthma and her frail appearance, her mother watched over her with\nparticular care. While the other children went barefoot in their\nsabots, (wooden shoes,) she was provided with stockings; and while\nher sister and brothers went freely out of doors, she was constantly\nemployed in the house. The child, accustomed to the open air, would\nvery gladly have gone out into it.\n\nThe day, then, was _Jeudi-Gras_, eleven o'clock had struck, and these\npoor people had no wood to cook their dinner.\n\n\"Go, and gather some sticks by the Gave or on the common,\" said the\nmother to Marie, her second daughter.\n\nHere, as in many other places, the poor have a sort of customary\nright to glean the dried branches which the wind blows from the trees\nin the _commune_, and to the driftwood which the torrent leaves among\nthe pebbles on its bank.\n\nMarie put on her sabots. The eldest child, of whom we have been\nspeaking, the little shepherdess of Bartr\u00e8s, looked wistfully at her\nsister.\n\n\"Let me go, too?\" she finally asked of her mother. \"I will carry my\nlittle bundle of sticks.\"\n\n\"No,\" replied Louise Soubirous, \"you have a cough, and you will catch\nmore cold.\"\n\nA little girl from a neighboring house, named Jeanne Abadie, about\nfifteen years of age, having come in during this conversation, was\nlikewise preparing to go for wood. All joined in importuning, and the\nmother allowed herself to be persuaded.\n\nThe child at once covered her head with her kerchief, tied on one\nside, as is the custom among peasants of the south. This did not\nappear sufficient to her mother.\n\n\"Put on your _capulet_,\" said the latter. The capulet is a graceful\ngarment worn by the dwellers in the Pyrenees. It is at once a hood\nand a mantle, made of very stout cloth, sometimes white as fleece,\nsometimes of a bright scarlet color; it covers the head and falls\nover the shoulders to the waist. In cold or stormy weather, the women\nuse it to wrap their neck and arms, and, when the garment is too\nwarm, they fold it up in a square and wear it as a cap upon their\nheads. The capulet of the little shepherdess of Bartr\u00e8s was white.\n\n\nVI.\n\nThe three children left the town, and crossing the bridge, reached\nthe left bank of the Gave. They passed the mill of M. de Laffite and\nentered the Chal\u00eat, gathering here and there sticks for their little\nfagots. They walked down the river's course, the delicate child\nfollowing at some distance her stronger companions. Less fortunate\nthan they, she had not yet found any thing, and her apron was empty,\nwhile her sister and Jeanne had begun to load themselves with twigs\nand chips.\n\nClad in a black gown, well worn and patched, her pale countenance\ninclosed in the fold of the capulet which fell over her shoulders,\nand her feet protected by a large pair of sabots, she wore an air\nof grace and rustic innocence which appealed more to the heart than\nto the senses. She was still quite small for her age. Although her\nchildish features had been touched by the sun, they had not lost\ntheir natural delicacy. Her fine black hair scarcely appeared from\nbeneath her kerchief. Her brow, open to the air, was free from any\nline or wrinkle. Under her arching eyebrows, her eyes of brown, in\nher softer than blue, had a deep and tranquil beauty whose clearness\nno evil passion had ever disturbed. Hers was the \"single\" eye of\nwhich the Gospel speaks. Her mouth, wonderfully expressive, revealed\nthe habitual tenderness of her soul and pity for every kind of\nsuffering. Her whole appearance, while it pleased, also possessed\nthat extraordinary power of attraction exerted by lofty minds. And\nwhat was it that gave this secret power to a child so poor, so\nignorant, clothed in tatters? It was the greatest and rarest of\npossessions, the majesty of innocence.\n\nWe have not yet told her name. She had for her patron a great and\nholy doctor of the church, whose genius was especially sheltered\nunder the protection of the Mother of God, the author of the\n_Memorare_, the illustrious St. Bernard. Following a fashion which\nhas its charms, his great name, given to this humble peasant, had\ntaken a childish and rustic form. The little maid bore a title as\ngracious and as pretty as herself. She was called Bernadette.\n\nShe followed her sister and companion through the fields that belong\nto the mill, and sought, but vainly, among the grass and shrubbery\nfor some bits of wood to warm their family hearth. So Ruth or Noemi\nmight have appeared, going to glean in the harvest-fields of Booz.\n\n\nVII.\n\nStraying in this manner, the three little girls reached the lower end\nof the Ch\u00e2let opposite the triple cave, the grotto of Massabielle,\nwhich we have endeavored to describe. They were separated from it\nonly by the mill-race, which bathes the foot of the cliffs, and\nwhose current is usually very strong. To-day, however, the mill of\nS\u00e2vy has stopped work, and the small quantity of water which leaks\ninto the aqueduct makes but a slender stream, very easy to wade. The\nfallen branches of various trees lie thick among the rocks in this\nlonely and ordinarily inaccessible place. Rejoiced at this discovery,\nbustling and active as Martha, Jeanne and Marie took off their\nsabots, and in an instant were across the stream.\n\n\"The water is very cold,\" they cried as they hastily put on their\nwooden shoes.\n\nIt was the month of February, and these mountain torrents, fresh\nfrom the glacial snows, are always icy cold.\n\nBernadette, less alert or less eager, tarrying behind, was still on\nthe nearer side of the stream. It was a more serious undertaking for\nher to cross. She wore stockings, while Jeanne and Marie had only to\ntake off their sabots, in order to wade. Even before the exclamation\nof her companions, she feared the cold of the water.\n\n\"Throw in a couple of large stones,\" she cried, \"so that I may go\nover without getting wet.\"\n\nThe two little girls, already engaged in making up a pair of fagots,\ndid not wish to lose time by turning from their task.\n\n\"Do as we have done,\" said Jeanne, \"take off your shoes.\"\n\nBernadette resigned herself, and, seated on a large stone, began to\ndo as she was bid.\n\nIt was about noon; the Angelus was about to sound from all the\nbelfries of the Pyrenees.\n\n\nVIII.\n\nShe was in the act of drawing off her first stocking, when she heard\nnear her a shock like a blast of wind, bursting with irresistible\nforce upon the fields. She thought it was a sudden storm, and\ninstinctively looked behind her. To her great surprise, the poplars\nwhich border the Gave were perfectly motionless. Not even the\nslightest breeze stirred their boughs.\n\n\"I must be dreaming,\" she said, and, still thinking of the noise,\nshe could not believe that she had heard it. She turned again to her\nstocking. At this instant the impetuous roar of this unknown wind was\nheard again. Bernadette raised her glance, and uttered, or would have\nuttered, a loud cry, but it died upon her lips. Her limbs trembled\nand gave way. Astounded by what she saw, and as if shrinking from\nit, she fell upon her knees.\n\nA vision of surpassing wonder was before her eyes. The child's\nstory, the countless inquiries to which she has since been subjected\nby thousands of active and shrewd investigators, have brought out\nall the details, and enabled us to trace each line of the general\nappearance of that wonderful being who met at this moment the\nravished glance of Bernadette.\n\n\nIX.\n\nAbove the grotto, before which Marie and Jeanne, busily employed and\nbent toward the ground, were gathering sticks, in the rude niche\nformed by the rock, surrounded by a heavenly glory, stood a lady of\nmatchless beauty.\n\nThe ineffable radiance which floated around her did not hurt the\neyes, like the brightness of the sun. On the contrary, this aureole\nof soft and gentle light irresistibly attracted the glance, which\nit seemed to relieve and fill with pleasure. It was like the gleam\nof the morning-star. But there was nothing vague or misty about the\napparition. It had not the shifting contour of a fantastic vision; it\nwas a reality, a human body, which to the eye seemed palpable as our\nown flesh, and which resembled the figure of an ordinary human person\nin all respects, except that it was surrounded by a luminous halo,\nand was radiant with celestial beauty. The lady was of medium height.\nShe looked very youthful, like one who had attained her twentieth\nyear, without losing any of the tender delicacy of girlhood, which\nusually fades so soon. This beauty bore in her countenance the\nimpress of everlasting durability. Moreover, in her features the\nheavenly lines blended, without disturbing their mutual harmony, the\npeculiar charms of the four seasons of human life. The innocent\ncandor of the child, the spotless purity of the virgin, the calm\ntenderness of the loftiest maternity, a wisdom surpassing the lore\nof centuries, blended together without effacing each other, in this\nwonderful and youthful countenance. To whom shall we liken her in\nthis sinful world, where the rays of beauty are scattered, broken, or\ndiscolored, and seldom reach us without some impure mixture? Every\nimage, every comparison would only abase this unspeakable type. No\nmajesty, no excellence, no simplicity here below could ever give us\nan idea whereby we might better understand it. It is not with the\nlamps of earth that we can light up the stars of heaven.\n\nThe regularity and ideal beauty of these features surpassed all\ndescription. It could only be said that their oval curve was of\ninfinite grace, that the eyes were blue and of a tenderness that sank\nthrough the heart of the beholder to its very depths. The lips wore\nan expression of heavenly goodness and mildness. The brow was like\nthe seat of the highest wisdom; that wisdom which combines universal\nknowledge with boundless virtue.\n\nHer garments were of an unknown fabric, woven in the mysterious looms\nwhich serve to robe the lily of the valley; for they were white as\nthe stainless mountain snows, and yet more splendid than the raiment\nof Solomon in all his glory. The vesture, long and trailing in\nchaste folds, revealed her virginal feet, which lightly pressed the\nbroad branch of eglantine, and on each of which blossomed the golden\nmystical rose.\n\nFrom her waist a sky-blue cincture, loosely tied, hung, in long\nbands, to the instep of her foot. Behind, and enveloping in its\nfulness her arms and shoulders, a white veil descended from her\nhead to the hem of her robes. No ring, no necklace, no diadem or\ngem; none of those ornaments were there that human vanity loves to\nparade. A chaplet, whose drops of milky white slid on a golden cord,\nhung from her hands, fervently clasped together. The beads glided\nthrough her fingers. Yet the lips of this Queen of Virgins remained\nmotionless. Instead of reciting the rosary, she was, perhaps,\nlistening to the eternal echo in her own heart of that first Ave! and\nthe deep murmur of invocation ever rising from this earth of ours.\nEach bead was undoubtedly a shower of heavenly graces that fell upon\nsouls like the liquid diamonds into the chalice of the flower.\n\nShe kept silence; but later, her own words and the miraculous facts\nwhich we shall have to record, were to attest that she was truly the\nImmaculate Virgin, the sinless and stainless among women, Mary, the\nMother of God.\n\nThis wonderful apparition looked upon Bernadette, who, as we have\nseen, shrinking and speechless, had fallen upon her knees.\n\n\nX.\n\nThe child, in her first movement of fear, had instinctively seized\nher rosary; and, holding it in her hands, endeavored to make the\nsign of the cross. But she trembled so violently as to render this\nimpossible. \"Fear not,\" said Jesus to his disciples, when he came\nwalking on the waves of the sea of Tiberias. The look and smile of\nthe Blessed Virgin appeared to say the same thing to this frightened\nlittle shepherdess.\n\nWith a sweet, grave gesture, which seemed like a benediction to earth\nand heaven, she, as if to encourage the child, made the sign of the\ncross. And the hand of Bernadette, raised, as it were, by her hand\nwho is called the Help of Christians, repeated the sacred sign.\n\n\"Fear not, it is I,\" Jesus said to his disciples.\n\nThe child felt no more fear. Astonished, charmed, scarcely trusting\nher senses, and wiping her eyes, whose glance was riveted by the\nheavenly vision, no longer knowing what to think, she humbly recited\nher rosary: \"I believe in God\"--\"Hail, Mary! full of grace!\"\n\nWhen she had finished saying the last \"Glory be to the Father, and\nto the Son, and to the Holy Ghost,\" the bright Virgin suddenly\ndisappeared, re\u00ebntering that eternal paradise, the dwelling of the\nHoly Trinity, whence she had come.\n\nBernadette felt like one who has suddenly fallen from a great height.\nShe stared vacantly around. The Gave still flowed on, moaning over\nthe pebbles and broken rocks; but the noise seemed to her more\nsorrowful than before; the waters themselves seemed more gloomy, the\nlandscape and sunlight less bright than formerly. In front the cliffs\nof Massabielle extended, and beneath them her companions were still\nengaged in collecting the sticks of wood. Above the grotto were still\nthe niche and the arch of eglantine; but nothing unusual appeared\nthere; no trace remained of the celestial visitor. They were no\nlonger the gate of heaven.\n\nThe scene which we have just related must have lasted for a quarter\nof an hour; not that Bernadette was conscious of the lapse of time;\nbut it may be measured by the circumstance that she had been able to\nrecite five decades of the rosary.\n\nCompletely restored to herself, Bernadette finished removing her\nshoes and stockings, and rejoined her companions. Absorbed by what\nshe had seen, she did not dread the cold of the water. All her\nchildish powers were concentrated in recalling the facts of this\nstrange apparition.\n\nJeanne and Marie had seen her fall upon her knees and betake herself\nto prayer; but as this, thank God, is not a rare occurrence with\nthese mountaineers, and as they were occupied at their task, they had\npaid no further attention.\n\nBernadette was surprised at the perfect calmness which her sister and\nJeanne evinced. They had just finished their work and, entering the\ngrotto, began to play as if nothing extraordinary had happened.\n\n\"Have you seen nothing?\" asked the child.\n\nThey then noticed that she seemed disturbed and agitated. \"No,\" they\nreplied; \"have you seen any thing?\"\n\nWas it that Bernadette feared to tell what filled her soul, for fear\nof profanation? Did she wish to enjoy it in silence? Or was she\nrestrained by a bashful timidity? Nevertheless, she did obey that\ninstinct which prompts humble souls to conceal as a treasure the\nspecial graces with which God favors them.\n\n\"If you have seen nothing,\" said she, \"I have nothing to tell you.\"\n\nThe little fagots were bound up. The three children began to retrace\nthe road to Lourdes. But Bernadette could not conceal her trouble. On\nthe way, Marie and Jeanne teased her, to find out what she had seen.\n\nThe little shepherdess yielded to their entreaties and their promise\nof eternal secrecy.\n\n\"I saw,\" she began, \"something dressed in white.\" And she went on to\ndescribe her marvellous vision. \"This is what I saw,\" said she in\nconclusion; \"but do not, for the world, say anything about it.\"\n\nMarie and Jeanne did not doubt a syllable. The soul in its first\ninnocence is naturally believing. Doubt is not the besetting sin of\nchildhood. And even were they disposed to be sceptical, the earnest\naccents of Bernadette, still agitated and full of what she had seen,\nwould have irresistibly led them to believe. Marie and Jeanne did\nnot doubt, but they were frightened. The children of the poor are\nnaturally timid. Nor is it strange, since sufferings come to them\nfrom every side.\n\n\"It is, perhaps, something that will do us harm,\" said they. \"Let us\nnever go there again, Bernadette.\"\n\nScarcely had the confidants of the little shepherdess reached the\nhouse, when the secret fairly boiled over. Marie told it all to her\nmother. \"What is all this stuff, Bernadette, that your sister has\nbeen telling me?\" The little girl repeated her story. Marie Soubirous\nshrugged her shoulders.\n\n\"You have been deceived, child. It was nothing at all. You thought\nthat you saw something, but you did not. This is all fancy and\nimagination.\"\n\nBernadette still adhered to her story.\n\n\"At any rate,\" said her mother, \"never go near that place again. I\nforbid it.\"\n\nThis prohibition wounded Bernadette to the heart. For, ever since the\napparition had vanished, she had felt the greatest desire to see it\nonce more.\n\nNevertheless, she was resigned, and said nothing.\n\n\nXI.\n\nTwo days, Friday and Saturday, passed. The extraordinary event\nwas continually present to the mind of Bernadette, and became the\nabsorbing topic of conversation with her sister Marie, with Jeanne,\nand a few other children. Bernadette still bore in her mind the\nmemory of this heavenly vision; and a passion--if one may use a word\nso profane to designate so pure a sentiment in a heart so innocent\nand girlish--a burning desire to see again this incomparable lady had\ntaken possession of her soul. This name of \"lady\" was the one which\nthey naturally used in their rustic language.\n\nWhenever she was asked if this apparition resembled any one\ncelebrated in the place for beauty, she shook her head and said\nsweetly, \"Not at all. This does not give the faintest idea of her.\nShe is of a beauty impossible to express.\"\n\nShe longed to see her once more. The other children were divided\nbetween fear and curiosity.\n\n\nXII.\n\nOn Sunday morning, the sun rose brightly; the weather was beautiful.\nThe open winter in the valleys of the Pyrenees frequently has days\nwhich equal spring.\n\nOn returning from mass, Bernadette begged Marie and Jeanne and two or\nthree other children to insist with her mother and persuade her to\ntake off the prohibition and permit them to return to the cliffs of\nMassabielle.\n\n\"Perhaps it may be some wicked thing,\" said the children.\n\nBernadette answered that she was not afraid, for it had such a\nwonderfully kind face.\n\n\"At all events,\" replied the children, who, better taught than the\npoor shepherdess of Bartr\u00e8s, knew something of the catechism--\"at all\nevents, we must throw some holy water at it. If it comes from the\ndevil, it will go away. Say to it, 'If you come from God, approach!\nIf you come from the devil, be off!'\"\n\nThis is not the precise formula for exorcism; but these little\ntheologians of Lourdes could not have reasoned better in this\nmatter, if they had been doctors of the Sorbonne.\n\nIt was therefore decided, in this juvenile council, that one of them\nshould carry the holy water. A certain feeling of apprehension had\nstolen over Bernadette on account of this talk. Nevertheless it only\nremained to obtain permission.\n\nThe children assembled after dinner to ask for it. The mother was\nstill unwilling to remove the prohibition, alleging that the Gave\nran close to the cliffs of Massabielle, and that there might be\ndanger; that the hour for vespers was near at hand, and that they\nought not to run the risk of being late; and that the whole story was\npure childish prattle, etc. But every body knows what a regiment of\nchildren can do. All promised to be careful, to be quick, etc., and\nthe matter ended by the mother's yielding.\n\nThe little band went to the church, and there prayed for some time.\nOne of Bernadette's companions had provided a small bottle. It was\nnow filled with holy water.\n\nOn arriving at the grotto, nothing was to be seen.\n\n\"Let us pray,\" said Bernadette, \"and recite the rosary.\"\n\nThe children knelt and began the rosary, each to herself.\n\nSuddenly the face of Bernadette appeared to be transfigured.\nExtraordinary emotion was manifested on her features, and her\ncountenance seemed to shine with heavenly light.\n\nWith feet resting upon the rock, clad as formerly, the marvellous\napparition again stood before her.\n\n\"Look! look!\" she cried, \"there it is!\"\n\nAlas! the vision of the other children was not miraculously cleared\nfrom the film which hides glorified bodies from our sight. The little\ngirls saw nothing but the lonely rock and the branches of eglantine,\nwhich descended to the foot of that mysterious niche, where\nBernadette contemplated an unknown being. The features of Bernadette\nwore an expression that made it impossible to doubt that she really\nsaw something. One of the children placed the bottle of holy water in\nher hands. Then, Bernadette, remembering what she had promised, arose\nand sprinkled the wonderful lady, who stood in the niche before her.\n\n\"If you come from God, approach!\" said the little girl. And, at her\nwords, the Blessed Virgin advanced close to the edge of the rock. She\nseemed to smile at the precautions of Bernadette, and, at the sacred\nname of God, her face shone even brighter than before.\n\n\"If you come from God, approach!\" repeated Bernadette. But, seeing\nthe heavenly goodness and love of her glorious visitor, she felt\nher heart sink when about to add, \"If you come from the devil, go\naway!\" These words, which had been dictated to her, seemed monstrous\nin the presence of this incomparable being; and they fled from her\nthoughts without mounting to her lips. She prostrated herself again,\nand continued to recite her rosary, to which the Blessed Virgin\nseemed to listen, telling also her own. At the end of her prayer, the\napparition vanished.\n\n\nXIII.\n\nReturning to Lourdes, Bernadette was full of joy. She rehearsed in\nthe secrecy of her heart these extraordinary scenes. Her companions\nfelt a sort of terror in her presence. The transfiguration of the\ncountenance of Bernadette had convinced them of the reality of the\nsupernatural vision. And every thing that surpasses nature brings\nwith it a sense of awe. \"Let not the Lord speak to us lest we die,\"\nsaid the Jews of the Old Testament.\n\n\"We are afraid, Bernadette. Never go to that place again. Perhaps\nwhat you have seen will do us mischief.\" So said the timid companions\nof the little seer.\n\nAccording to their promise, the children returned in time for\nvespers. When they were over, numbers of people came out to walk and\nenjoy the last rays of the sun, so delightful on these fine winter\ndays. The story of the little girls was told among various groups of\nwalkers, and passed from mouth to mouth. Thus it was that the rumor\nof these strange things began to spread in the town. The report,\nwhich at first had agitated only a humble band of children, increased\nlike a tide-wave, and reached every fireside. Quarry-workers, (very\nnumerous at this place,) tailors, laboring-men, peasants, servants,\nwaiting-maids, and other poor people conversed about this matter,\nsome believing, some denying, others openly scoffing at, and many\nexaggerating, the facts of this rumored apparition. With one or two\nexceptions, the bourgeoisie did not pay the least attention to all\nthis talk. Strange to say, the father and mother of Bernadette, while\nthey confided fully in her sincerity, regarded the apparition as an\nillusion.\n\n\"She is only a child,\" they said. \"She thinks she has seen something;\nbut she has seen nothing. It is only the imagination of a little\ngirl.\" Nevertheless, the extraordinary precision of Bernadette's\nrecital startled them. At times, won by the earnest accents of their\ndaughter, they felt their incredulity shaken. And while they desired\nthat she should not revisit the grotto, they did not dare to forbid\nher. She did not do so, however, until Thursday.\n\n\nXIV.\n\nDuring the first days of the week, several persons came to see\nthe Soubirous, in order to question Bernadette. Her answers were\nbrief and exact. She might be laboring under a delusion, but it was\nonly necessary to see her to know that she was in good faith. Her\nperfect simplicity, her innocent age, her tone of earnestness, all\ncontributed to give her words a force which carried conviction.\nAll who visited her were entirely satisfied of her veracity, and\npersuaded that something extraordinary had happened at the cliffs of\nMassabielle.\n\nThe statement, nevertheless, of an ignorant little girl could not\nsuffice to establish firmly an event so entirely out of the ordinary\ncourse of things. There must be other proofs besides the word of a\nchild.\n\nBut what was this apparition, supposing it to have been real? Was\nit an angel of light, or a spirit from the abyss? Was it not some\nsuffering soul, wandering and seeking prayers? Might it not have\nbeen so-and-so or so-and-so, who, but recently dead in the odor of\nsanctity, had appeared to manifest the glory of the life to come?\nFaith and superstition each proposed their hypotheses.\n\nDid the mournful ceremonies of Ash-Wednesday help to incline a\ncertain lady and a young girl of Lourdes to one of these solutions?\nDid they see in the shining whiteness of the garments which the\napparition wore, some likeness to a shroud or some sign of a ghost?\nWe know not. The young girl was named Antoinette Peyret, and was a\nmember of the society of the Children of Mary; the other was Mme.\nMillet.[289]\n\n\"It is undoubtedly some soul from Purgatory, who implores us to have\nmasses offered up for it.\" So they thought; and they went to see\nBernadette.\n\n\"Ask this lady who she is, and what she wishes,\" said they. \"Get her\nto explain it to you; or, if you cannot understand, let her put it in\nwriting.\"\n\nBernadette, who felt a keen desire to return to the grotto, obtained\nfrom her parents a new permission; and the following morning,\nThursday, February the 18th, about six o'clock, at daybreak, and\nafter having heard mass at half-past five, she, together with\nAntoinette Peyret and Mme. Millet, turned her steps in the direction\nof the grotto.\n\n\nXV.\n\nThe repairs in the mill of M. de Laffite had been completed, and\nthe canal which moved the machinery had been opened to the current;\nso that it was impossible to reach the end of their journey by the\nold way of the Ch\u00e2let. They were obliged to ascend the side of the\nEsp\u00e9lugues, choosing a steep path which led to the forest of Lourdes;\nthen to descend by a break-neck route to the grotto, over crags, and\nthe steep, loose soil of Massabielle.\n\nIn the face of these unforeseen difficulties, the two companions\nof Bernadette were somewhat dismayed. But she, on the contrary,\neven then trembled with an eager desire to reach their destination.\nIt seemed as if an invisible power sustained and endowed her with\nunwonted energy. She, usually so frail and weak, felt at that moment\nstout and strong. Her steps became so rapid as they began the ascent,\nthat Antoinette and Mme. Millet, though both were strong and in\nperfect health, had a good task to keep up with her. The asthma,\nwhich usually hindered her from running, seemed to have left her for\nthe time being. On reaching the summit, she was neither tired nor out\nof breath. Although her companions were perspiring and panting, her\nface was perfectly calm. She descended the cliffs, which she thus\ntraversed for the first time, with the same ease and agility, feeling\nconscious that an invisible power guided and sustained her. Over\nthese steep and sharp declivities, among slippery stones, hanging\nover the abyss, her step was as bold and firm as if walking upon the\nhighway. Mme. Millet and Antoinette did not endeavor to follow at the\nsame gait. They descended slowly, and with the precaution required by\nso perilous a way.\n\nConsequently, Bernadette arrived at the grotto some minutes before\nthem. She prostrated herself and began reciting her chaplet,\nearnestly regarding the niche, still empty and embowered by the\nentwining boughs of the eglantine.\n\nSuddenly she uttered a cry. The well-known light of the aureole shone\nfrom the depths of the cave; she heard a voice calling her.\n\nThe wonderful apparition was again visible a few steps above her. The\nlovely Virgin turned toward the child her face lit up with eternal\nbeauty, and with her hand beckoned her to approach.\n\nAt this moment, after surmounting a thousand and one difficulties,\nthe two companions of Bernadette, Antoinette and Mme. Millet, reached\nthe spot. They saw the features of the child transfigured with\necstasy. She heard and saw them.\n\n\"She is there!\" the girl cried, \"she beckons me to draw near!\"\n\n\"Ask if she is annoyed because we are here with you. If so, we will\ngo away.\"\n\nBernadette looked at the Blessed Virgin, invisible to all save\nherself. Then she turned toward her companions. \"You may remain,\" she\nanswered.\n\nThe two women knelt beside the child and lighted a blessed taper,\nwhich they had brought with them. It was, beyond doubt, the first\ntime that such a light had ever shone in this savage place. This\nsimple act, which seemed to inaugurate a sanctuary, had in itself a\nmysterious solemnity.\n\nThis visible sign of adoration, this humble flame lighted by two\npoor women, on the supposition that the apparition was divine, was\nnever more to be extinguished but to brighten daily, and to grow with\nthe lapse of years. The breath of incredulity was to exhaust itself\nagainst it in vain efforts. The storm of persecution was to arise;\nbut this flame, lit by the devotion of the people, was to point for\never toward the throne of God. While these rustic hands lighted the\nfirst illumination in this strange grotto where a child was praying,\nthe east had changed its color from gray to gold and purple, and the\nsun had begun to flood the world with light and to peep over the\nhighest crest of the mountains.\n\nBernadette, in ecstasy, contemplated a cloudless beauty. \"_Tota\npulchra es, amica mea, et macula non est in te_:\" Thou art all\nbeautiful, my beloved, and there is no spot in thee.\n\nHer companions spoke to her again.\n\n\"Go toward her, if she makes a sign. Go, ask her who she is, and\nwhy she comes here?... Is she a soul from purgatory that needs our\nprayers, or wishes us to have masses offered up for her?... Ask her\nto write on this paper what she desires. We are willing to do any\nthing she wishes--all that is needful for her rest.\"\n\nThe little seer took the paper, ink, and paper, which were given her\nand advanced toward the apparition, whose maternal glance brightened\non seeing her draw near. Nevertheless, at each step that Bernadette\nmade, the apparition receded into the interior of the cave. The child\nlost sight of it for a moment, and it went under the arch of the\nlower grotto. There, just above her and much nearer at hand, she saw\nthe Blessed Virgin shining in the opening of the niche.\n\nBernadette held in her hand the objects which had been given her; she\nstood on tiptoe to reach the height of the supernatural being. Her\ntwo companions advanced to hear, if possible, the conversation which\nwas about to take place. But Bernadette, without turning, and as if\nobeying a gesture of the vision, signed to them not to approach.\nAbashed, they withdrew.\n\n\"My Lady,\" said the child, \"if you have any thing to tell me, will\nyou not please write what you wish?\"\n\nThe heavenly Virgin smiled at this na\u00efve request. Her lips parted and\nshe spoke:\n\n\"What I have to tell you I do not need to write. Only do me the favor\nto come here every day for two weeks.\"\n\n\"I promise to do so!\" said Bernadette.\n\nThe Blessed Virgin smiled again and made a gesture of satisfaction,\nshowing her full confidence in the word of this poor little peasant\nof fourteen years. She knew that the little shepherdess of Bartr\u00e8s\nwas pure as one of those little ones whose golden heads Jesus loved\nto caress, saying, \"Of such is the kingdom of heaven.\"\n\nTo the promise of Bernadette, she replied by a solemn engagement:\n\n\"And I for my part promise to make you happy, not in this world, but\nin the next.\"\n\nTo the child who accorded her a few days, she promised, in return,\neternity.\n\nBernadette, without losing sight of the apparition, returned to her\ncompanions.\n\nFollowing her glance, she noticed the eyes of the Blessed Virgin\nresting kindly and for some time on Antoinette Peyret, who was\nunmarried and a member of the Confraternity of the Children of Mary.\n\nBernadette told them what she had seen.\n\n\"She is looking at you now,\" said the child to Antoinette.\n\nThe latter was filled with pleasure by these words and always\nrecalled them with joy.\n\n\"Ask,\" said they, \"if she is willing to have us accompany you hither\nduring the fortnight.\"\n\nBernadette addressed the apparition.\n\n\"They may come with you,\" answered the Blessed Virgin, \"and also any\nother persons. I desire to see every body here.\"\n\nSaying these words, she disappeared, leaving behind her that\nbrilliant light with which she was surrounded, and which slowly\nmelted away.\n\nIn this instance, as in others, the child noticed something which\nseemed a rule with regard to the aureole which always surrounded the\nBlessed Virgin.\n\n\"When the vision appears,\" said she, in her own language, \"I see\nfirst the light and then the 'Lady;' when it disappears, the 'Lady'\nfirst vanishes and afterward the light.\"\n\n    TO BE CONTINUED.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[287] Bascle de Lagr\u00e8ze, Conseiller \u00e0 la Cour Imp\u00e9rial de Pau,\n_Chronique de la Ville et du Chateau de Lourdes_.\n\n[288] The Ordo of the diocese of Tarbes for 1858, Feb. 12, contains\nthe rubric, _Sanct\u00e6 Genovef\u00e6_, (_Proprium Tarbense_.)\n\n[289] These two persons are still living. Unless the contrary be\nexpressly stated, all those named in the course of this work are\nstill alive, and can be questioned. We would urge our readers to\nexamine and verify all our assertions.--THE AUTHOR.\n\n\n\n\nTHE \"PARADISE LOST\" OF ST. AVITUS.\n\n\nThe indebtedness of Milton to Andreini for the conception of\n_Paradise Lost_, is proved not only by internal evidence, but by the\nascertained fact that the English poet was well acquainted with the\nwork of the Italian. Another poet of merit, centuries before, had\nproduced a noble work on the subject, with which we may suppose,\nfrom Milton's classical and theological learning, he was familiar,\nthough no proof exists that he had read it. We refer to the three\npoems of St. Avitus, Bishop of Vienne, _The Creation_, _Original\nSin_, and _The Judgment of God_, which form a triad, or a poem in\nthree parts. Its resemblance to _Paradise Lost_, in general idea and\nin some important details, is very striking, and a curious fact in\nliterature. These, with other works of the author, were published at\nthe beginning of the sixteenth century, though written long before.\n\nAlcimus Ecdicius Avitus, born about the middle of the fifth century,\nwas of a senatorial family in Auvergne. He became bishop A.D.\n490, dying in 525. His part in the church of Gaul was active and\nimportant, as he was chief among the orthodox bishops of the east and\nsouth of Gaul, and Vienne belonged to the Burgundian Arians. In the\nstruggle to maintain the true faith against the Arians, St. Avitus\nhad to contend not only against theological adversaries, but the\ncivil power. In the year 499 he held a conference at Lyons with some\nArian bishops, in the presence of King Gondebald; and he influenced\nKing Sigismund to return to the true belief.\n\nHe was the most distinguished among all the Christian poets from\nthe sixth to the eighth century, and only the obscurity of the age\ncan account for the oblivion into which his works have fallen. It is\ntrue that his poetry abounds in labored comparisons and artificial\nantitheses; but in treating of sacred subjects he adheres to the\nscriptural simplicity, and though living much nearer to the days of\npaganism than Milton, has nothing like his mythological allusions\nand ornaments. He wrote a hundred letters on his own times, besides\nhomilies and treatises. His six poems are in hexameter verse. They\nare, _The Creation_, (_De Initio Mundi_,) _Original Sin_, (_De\nOriginali Peccato_,) _The Judgment of God_, (_De Sententia Dei_,)\n_The Deluge_, (_De Diluvio Mundi_,) _The Passage of the Red Sea_,\n(_De Transitu Maris Rubri_,) and _In Praise of Virginity_, (_De\nConsolatoria Laude Castitatis_, etc.) The first three constitute what\nmay be called the _Paradise Lost_ of St. Avitus.\n\nIn the _Creation_, the peculiar features of the descriptive poetry\nof the sixth century appear, resembling the school founded by the\nAbb\u00e9 Delille; elaborate beyond good taste, dissecting and anatomizing\nin details. This is almost painfully shown in the account of the\ncreation of man, in which the anatomical particulars are minute and\nscientific to the utter destruction of the picturesque. Then comes\nthe description of paradise, which is in curious analogy to Milton's.\nWe translate part of it:\n\n    \"Beyond the Indies, where the world begins,\n    Where, it is said, the confines meet of earth\n    And heaven, there spreads an elevated plain\n    To mortals inaccessible, inclosed\n    By barriers everlasting since for sin\n    Adam was cast out from that happy home.\n    There never change of seasons brings the frost;\n    There summer yields not place to winter's reign;\n    And while elsewhere the circle of the year\n    Brings stifling heat, or fields with crisp ice bound,\n    There bides eternal spring. Tumultuous winds\n    Come not, and clouds forsake skies always pure.\n    No need of rains; the ever genial soil\n    With warm, sweet moisture of its own, keeps fresh\n    Its vivid verdure; herbs and foliage live\n    Fadeless, their vigor drawn from their own sap,\n    Mingling their leaves with blossoms. Annual fruits\n    There ripen every month; the lily's sheen\n    The sunbeams taint not, nor the violet's blue;\n    The fresh rose never fades; the laden boughs\n    Shed odoriferous balm; the gentle breeze\n    Skimming the woods, with softest murmur stirs\n    The leaves and flowers, thence wafting sweet perfume.\n    Clear founts gush out from their pellucid source,\n    And polished gems have not their flashing lustre.\n    Along the crystal's margin emeralds gleam,\n    With varied hues of every jewel's sheen\n    The world holds rich, enamelling the sands,\n    And glistening in the meads like diadems.\"\n\n                                             Book i. 211-257\n\nThe Latin is as follows:\n\n    \"Ergo ubi transmissis mundi caput incipit Indis,\n    Quo perhibent terram confinia jungere c\u0153lo,\n    Lucus inaccessa cunctis mortalibus arca\n    Permanet, \u00e6terno conclusus limite, postquam\n    Decidit expulsus prim\u00e6vi criminis auctor,\n    Atque reis digne felici a sede revulsis,\n    C\u0153lestes h\u00e6c sancta capit nunc aula ministros,\n    Non hic alterni succedit temporis unquam\n    Bruma, nec \u00e6stivi redeunt post frigora soles,\n    Excelsus calidum cum reddit circulus annum,\n    Vel densante gelu canescunt arva pruinis.\n    Hic ver assiduum c\u0153li clementia servat;\n    Turbidus Auster abest, semperque sub \u00e6re sudo\n    Nubila diffugiunt jugi cessura sereno.\n    Nec poscit natura loci quos non habet imbres,\n    Sed contenta suo dotantur germina rore.\n    Perpetuo viret omne solum, terr\u00e6que tepentis\n    Blanda nitet facies; stant semper collibus herb\u00e6,\n    Arboribusque com\u00e6; qu\u00e6 cum se flore frequenti\n    Diffundunt, celeri confortant germina succo.\n    Nam quidquid nobis toto nunc nascitur anno;\n    Menstrua maturo dant illic tempora fructu.\n    Lilia perlucent nullo flaccentia sole,\n    Nec tactus violat violas, roseumque ruborem\n    Servans perpetuo suffundit gratia vultu.\n    Sic cum desit hiems, nec torrida ferveat \u00e6stas,\n    Fructibus autumnus, ver floribus occupat annum.\n    Hic qu\u00e6 donari mentitur fama Sab\u00e6sis\n    Cinnama nascuntur, vivax qu\u00e6 colligit ales,\n    Natali cum fine perit, nidoque perusta\n    Succedens sibimet qu\u00e6sita morte resurgit;\n    Nec contenta suo tantum semel ordine nasci;\n    Longa veternosi renovatur corporis \u00e6tas,\n    Incensamque levant exordia crebra senectam,\n    Illic desudans fragrantia balsama ramus\n    Perpetuum promit pingui de stipite fluxum.\n    Tum si forte levis movit spiramina ventus,\n    Flatibus exiguis, lenique impulsa susurro,\n    Dives silva tremit foliis, ac flora salubri,\n    Qui sparsus late maves dispensat odores.\n    Hic fons perspicuo resplendens gurgita surgit.\n    Talis in argento non fulget gratia, tantam\n    Nec crystalla trahunt nitido defrigore lucem.\n    Margine riparum virides micuere lapilli,\n    Et quas miratur mundi jactantia gemmas,\n    Illis saxa jacent; varios dant arva colores,\n    Et naturali campos diademate pingunt.\"\n\nThe parallel passage of Milton runs thus:\n\n              \"Thus was this place,\n    A happy rural seat of various view;\n    Groves whose rich trees wept odorous gums and balm,\n    Others whose fruit, burnished with golden rind,\n    Hung amiable, Hesperian fables true,\n    If true, here only, and of delicious taste.\n    Betwixt them lawns, or level downs, and flocks\n    Grazing the tender herb, were interposed,\n    Or palmy hillock; or the flowery lap\n    Of some irriguous valley spread her store,\n    Flowers of all hue, and without thorn the rose;\n    Another side, umbrageous grots and caves\n    Of cool recess, o'er which the mantling vine\n    Lays forth her purple grape, and gently creeps\n    Luxuriant; meanwhile, murmuring waters fall\n    Down the slope hills, dispersed, or in a lake\n    That to the fringed bank with myrtle crowned\n    Her crystal mirror holds, unite their streams.\n    The birds their choir apply; airs, vernal airs,\n    Breathing the smell of field and grove, attune\n    The trembling leaves, while universal Pan\n    Knit with the graces and the hours in dance,\n    Led on th' eternal spring.\"\n\n                              _Paradise Lost_, iv. 246, etc.\n\nThe Nile, according to religious traditions, was one of the four\nrivers of paradise. In his description of its fertilizing inundation,\nSt. Avitus paints, in a poetical figure, the view presented in\nafter-years:\n\n    \"When, swollen, the river overflows its banks,\n    Strewing the plains with dark slime, fertile then\n    The soil with calm skies and terrestrial rain;\n    Then Memphis in the midst of a vast lake\n    Appears, and o'er their fields submerged in crafts\n    The laborers sail. The flood's decree sweeps forth\n    All boundaries, equalizing all, and stays\n    The season's labors. Joyful sees the shepherd\n    His meadows swallowed, and from foreign seas\n    Strange shoals of fish where erst his herds were fed.\n    Then, when the waters have espoused the earth,\n    Impregnating its gems, the Nile recedes,\n    Calls back its scattered waters, and the lake,\n    Once more a river, to its bed returns,\n    Its floods encompassed in the ancient dyke.\"\n\n                                            Book i. 266-281.\n\nWe give also the original:\n\n    \"Nam quoties tumido perrumpit flumine ripas\n    Alveus, et nigris campos perinundat arenis,\n    Ubertas taxatur aqua, c\u0153loque vacante\n    Terrestrem pluviam diffusus porrigit annis.\n    Tunc inclusa latet lato sub gurgite Memphis,\n    Et super absentis possessor navigat agros.\n    Terminus omnis abest, \u00e6quatur judice fluctu\n    Annua suspendens contectus jurgia limes.\n    Gramina nota videt lactus subsidere pastor,\n    Inque pecorum viridantis jugere campi\n    Succedunt nantes aliena per \u00e6quora pisces.\n    Ast postquam largo fecundans germina potu\n    Lympha maritavit sitientis viscera terr\u00e6,\n    Regraditur Nilus, sparsasque recolligit undas:\n    Fit fluvius pereunte lacu; tum redditur alveo\n    Pristina riparum conclusis fluctibus obex,\" etc.\n\nAn analogous phenomenon--far more vast and terrible--the descent\nof the waters of the upper firmament, and the overflow of earthly\nfloods, is described by St. Avitus in his poem on _The Deluge_.\n\nIn the second part of the triad, _Original Sin_, the sacred\ntraditions are implicitly followed; something is to be found of\nAndreini's conception of the prince of hell preserving in the demon\nthe grandeur of the angel, carrying into the pit of evil the traces\nof a heavenly nature. The Satan of St. Avitus is not the devil of\nmere traditions, odious, hideous, malignant, with no elevation of\nfeeling. He retains some traits of his first estate and a certain\nmoral grandeur. Nevertheless the conception lacks the sublimity of\nAndreini's and Milton's, presenting none of those fierce conflicts of\nthe soul, those appalling contrasts, which are so effective. It has,\nhowever, originality and energy, forcibly impressing the reader.\n\nSatan, first entering paradise, and perceiving Adam and Eve, is thus\nportrayed:\n\n    \"When he beheld the new-created pair\n    In their fair home, their happy sinless life,\n    Under God's laws the sovereigns of the earth,\n    With tranquil joy surveying all around\n    In peace their sway confessing--jealous rage\n    Like lightning raised a tempest in his soul;\n    Like to volcanic fires his fury burned.\n    Too recent his great loss; hurled down from heaven,\n    Down to the infernal pit, and with him fallen\n    The troop who shared his fate! The agony,\n    The shame of such defeat, with added pangs\n    And horror, rose afresh, when he beheld\n    Those happy ones; and full of bitter grief,\n    Envy, despite, he poured his anger forth.\n    Ah! woe is me; this new world sprung to life,\n    This odious race the offspring of our ruin!\n    Woe! Heaven was mine; from heaven I am expelled,\n    This dust of earth to angels' pomp succeeding!\n    Frail clay, to fair form moulded, will usurp\n    The power, the sovereignty torn from our hands,\n    To him transferred! Yet not of all despoiled,\n    Some power we hold, some evil we can do.\n    Be it done without delay! I yearn for strife!\n    I long to meet these foes; yea, now to meet them,\n    In their simplicity, which knows as yet\n    Naught of deceit; naught but the things they see,\n    Which leaves them shieldless. Easier the task\n    To tempt them and mislead, while thus alone,\n    Ere they have thrown a vast posterity\n    Into the eternity of ages!--No--\n    We will not suffer any thing immortal\n    To rise from earth! Let us destroy the race\n    Here in its source! Oh! that its chiefs defeat\n    May be the seed of death! Life's principle\n    Give rise to pangs of death! all struck in one!\n    The root cut and the tree for ever prone!\n    Such consolation in my fall is mine;\n    If I must never more ascend to heaven,\n    At least its portals shall be closed 'gainst these!\n    The misery I suffer is less keen\n    Knowing these creatures lost by a like fall;\n    If they, accomplices in my destruction,\n    Become companions in my punishment,\n    Sharing with us the flames I now discern\n    Prepared for us!\n                  But to allure them on,\n    I, who have fallen, must show them the same road,\n    That the same pride which drove me out of heaven\n    May chase man from the bounds of paradise.\n    He spoke, and heaving a deep sigh, was silent.\"\n\n                                            Book ii. 60-117.\n\nThe Latin is as follows:\n\n    \"Vidit ut iste novos homines in sede quieta\n    Ducere felicem nullo discrimine vitam,\n    Lege sub accepta Domino famularier orbis,\n    Subjectisque frui placida inter gaudia rebus;\n    Commovit subitum zeli scintilla vaporem,\n    Excrevitque calens in s\u00e6va incendia livor.\n    Vicinus tunc forte fuit, quo concidit alto,\n    Lapsus, et innexam traxit per prona catervam.\n    Hoc recolens, casumque premens in corde recentem,\n    Plus doluit periisse sibi quod possidet alter.\n    Tunc mixtus cum felle pudor sic pectore questus\n    Explicat, et tali suspiria voce relaxat.\n    Proh dolor, hoc nobis subitum consurgere plasma,\n    Invisumque genus nostra crevisse ruina!\n    Me celsum virtus habuit, nunc arce reje\n    Pellor, et angelico limus succedit honori.\n    C\u0153lum terra tenet, vili compage levata\n    Regnat humus, nobisque perit translata potestas.\n    Non tamen in totum periit; pars magna retentat\n    Vim propriam, summaque cluit virtute nocendi,\n    Nec differre juvat; jam nunc certamine blando\n    Congrediar, dum prima salus, experta nec ullos\n    Simplicitas ignara dolos, ad tela patebit.\n    Et melius soli capientur fraude, priusquam\n    Fecundam mittant \u00e6terna in s\u00e6cula prolem,\n    Immortale nihil terra prodire sinendum est;\n    Fons generis pereat, capitis dejectio victi\n    Semen mortis erit; pariat discrimina lethi\n    Vit\u00e6 principium; cuncti feriantur in uno;\n    Non faciet vivum radix occisa cacumen.\n    H\u00e6c mihi dejecto tandem solatia restant.\n    Si nequeo clausos iterum conscendere c\u0153los,\n    His quoque claudentur,\" etc.\n\nThus Milton's Satan:\n\n    \"O hell! what do mine eyes with grief behold!\n    Into our room of bliss thus high advanced\n    Creatures of other mould; earth-born perhaps,\n    Not spirits, yet to heavenly spirits bright\n    Little inferior; whom my thoughts pursue\n    With wonder, and could love, so lively shines\n    In them divine resemblance, and such grace\n    The hand that formed them on their shape hath poured.\n    Ah gentle pair! ye little think how nigh\n    Your change approaches, when all these delights\n    Will vanish and deliver ye to woe!\n    More woe the more you taste is now of joy;\n    Happy, but for so happy ill secured\n    Long to continue, and this high seat your heaven\n    Ill fenced for heaven to keep out such a foe\n    As now is entered; yet no purposed foe\n    To you, whom I could pity thus forlorn,\n    Though I unpitied; league with you I seek,\n    And mutual amity, so strait, so close,\n    That I with you must dwell, or you with me\n    Henceforth; my dwelling haply may not please,\n    Like this fair paradise, your sense; yet such\n    Accept your Maker's work; he gave it me,\n    Which I as freely give. Hell shall unfold,\n    To entertain you two, her widest gates,\n    And send forth all her kings; there will be room,\n    Not like these narrow limits, to receive\n    Your numerous offspring; if no better place,\n    Thank him who puts me loath to this revenge\n    On you, who wrong me not, for him who wronged.\n    And should I at your harmless innocence\n    Melt as I do, yet public reason just,\n    Honor and empire with revenge enlarged,\n    By conquering this new world, compel me now\n    To do what else, though damned, I should abhor.\"\n\n                      Milton's _Paradise Lost_, iv. 358-392.\n\nMore elevated, impassioned, and complex are the feelings of Milton's\nSatan, more eloquent his expression; yet the simple energy, the\nmenacing concentration of the arch-fiend painted by St. Avitus, has a\npowerful effect.\n\nThe third book exhibits the despair of Adam and Eve after the fall;\nthe coming of the divine Judge; his sentence, and their expulsion\nfrom paradise. Where Milton represents Adam as giving way to\nindignation against Eve, St. Avitus causes him to rage against the\nCreator himself.\n\n    \"Adam thus saw himself condemned: his guilt\n    By inquiry made manifest. Yet not\n    In humble suppliance did he sue for mercy:\n    Nor with deep penitence, and tears, and prayers,\n    And self-accusing, shamed confession, plead\n    For the remission of his punishment;\n    Fallen, miserable, no pity he invoked.\n    With lifted front, with anger flushed, his pride\n    Broke forth in clamorous reproach.\n                    'Twas then\n    To bring my ruin that the woman was given\n    To be my helpmeet! That which from thy hand,\n    Creator! was received as best of blessings--\n    She--overcome herself--has conquered me\n    With counsels sinister! prevailed with me\n    To take the fruit she had already tasted;\n    She is the source of evil; from her came\n    The sin, beguiling me too credulous;\n    And thou, Lord, thou didst teach me to believe her\n    By giving her to be my own in marriage,\n    With sweet ties joining us! Ah! if my life,\n    Lonely at first, had so continued--happy!\n    If I had never known this fatal union,\n    The yoke of such companionship!\n                    These words\n    Of Adam the divine Creator heard,\n    And thus severely spoke to desolate Eve;\n    Woman, why hast thou in thy fall drawn down\n    Thy wretched spouse? Deceived, and then deceiving,\n    Instead of standing in thy guilt alone,\n    Why sought'st thou to dethrone the higher reason\n    Of this thy husband?\n                    And the woman, full\n    Of shame and sorrow, daring not to raise\n    Her face with conscious blushes all suffused,\n    Answered: The serpent did beguile me; he\n    Persuaded me to taste the fruit forbidden.\"\n\n                                           Book iii. 96-112.\n\nThe original poem runs thus:\n\n    \"Ille ubi convictum claro se lumine vidit,\n    Prodidit et totum discussio justa reatum,\n    Non prece submissa veniam pro crimine poscit,\n    Non votis lacrymisve rogat, nec vindice fletu\n    Pr\u00e6currit meritam supplex confessio p\u0153nam.\n    Jamque miser factus, nondum miserabilis ille est.\n    Erigitur sensu, timidisque accensa querelis\n    Fertur in insanas laxata superbia voces.\n    Heu male perdendo mulier conjuncta marito!\n    Quam sociam misero prima sub lege dedisti,\n    H\u00e6c me consiliis vicit devicta sinistris,\n    Et sibi jam notum persuasit sumere pomum.\n    Ista mali caput est, crimen surrexit ab ista.\n    Credulus ipse fui, sed credere tu docuisti,\n    Connubium donans, et dulcia vincula nectens\n    Atque utinam felix, qu\u00e6 quondam sola vigebat,\n    C\u0153lebs vita foret, talis nec conjugis unquam\n    F\u0153dera sensisset, comiti non subdita prav\u00e6.\n      Hac igitur rigidi commotus mente Creator,\n    M\u0153rentem celsis compellat vocibus Evam.\n    Cur miserum labens traxisti inprona maritum\n    Nec contenta tuo deceptrix femina casu,\n    Sublimi sensum jecisti, ex arce virilem!\n      Ilia pudens, tristique genas suffusa rubore,\n    Auctorem sceleris clamat decepta draconem,\n    Qui pomum vetito persuasit tangere morsu.\"\n\nThus Milton:\n\n    \"Whom thus afflicted when sad Eve beheld,\n    Desolate where she sat, approaching nigh,\n    Soft words to his fierce passion she essayed;\n    But her with stern regard he thus repelled.\n    Out of my sight, thou serpent! That name best\n    Befits thee with him leagued, thyself as false\n    And hateful; nothing wants, but that thy shape,\n    Like his, and color serpentine, may show\n    Thy inward fraud, to warn all creatures from thee\n    Henceforth; lest that too heavenly form, pretended\n    To hellish falsehood, snare them! But for thee\n    I had persisted happy; had not thy pride\n    And wandering vanity, when least was safe,\n    Rejected my forewarning, and disdained\n    Not to be trusted, longing to be seen,\n    Though by the devil himself; him overweening\n    To overreach; but with the serpent meeting,\n    Fooled and beguiled; by him thou; I by thee\n    To trust thee from my side, imagined wise,\n    Constant, mature, proof against all assaults;\n    And understood not all was but a show,\n    Rather than solid virtue; all but a rib\n    Crooked by nature, bent, as now appears,\n    More to the part sinister, from me drawn;\n    Well if thrown out, as supernumerary\n    To my just number found. Oh! why did God,\n    Creator wise, that peopled highest heaven\n    With spirits masculine, create at last\n    This novelty on earth, this fair defect\n    Of nature, and not fill the world at once\n    With men, as angels, without feminine;\n    Or find some other way to generate\n    Mankind? This mischief had not then befallen,\n    And more that shall befall; innumerable\n    Disturbances on earth through female snares,\n    And strait conjunction with this sex.'\"\n\n                                _Paradise Lost_, x. 863-897.\n\nThe scriptural simplicity of this passage, as found in the poem\nof St. Avitus, will be by many esteemed better than Milton's\nornamentation.\n\nThe book ends with a prediction of the advent of Christ, who is to\ntriumph over Satan. The leaving of paradise is touchingly described\nat the close of the poem.\n\n    \"The sentence given, and by the trembling pair\n    Received, with skins of beasts the Lord himself\n    Clothed both the man and woman.\n                              Then he drove\n    Them out for ever from the happy garden\n    Of paradise. Prone to the ground they fell,\n    Those hapless ones. They entered on the world\n    That was to them a wilderness. They fled\n    With hasty steps, as by the avenging sword\n    Pursued. The earth before them had its bowers\n    Of trees and verdant turf; green meads and fountains,\n    And winding streams, appear to greet their sight;\n    Yet ah! how hideous is the landscape drear\n    After thy lovely face, O Paradise!\n    Startled, the pair survey the doleful scene,\n    And weep to think of all that they have lost;\n    They do not see the limits of the world;\n    And yet it seems a narrow cell; they groan\n    Immured in such a prison! Even the day\n    Is darkness to their eyes; while the clear sun\n    Is shining in his strength, they bitterly\n    Complain that all the light has vanished from them.\"\n\nA Dutch poet also--Joost Van Den Vondel--wrote a drama on the fall\nof man, before Andreini's. Among the personages are Lucifer and his\nattendant evil spirits, Gabriel, the King of Angels, Michael, Uriel,\netc. Adam and Eve are attended in paradise by a chief guardian angel.\nThe lyrics of the heavenly host have considerable poetic beauty.\n\n\n\n\nTHE WILLIAN GIRLS\n\n\nSome persons have a natural enjoyment of tribulation. They take a\nreal pleasure in raising their eyebrows lugubriously, holding their\nheads a little on one side with a sorrowful and resigned expression,\nand looking at the world through blue spectacles. They \"always sigh\nin thanking God,\" and can find a cloud in the sunniest sky. You can\nnever conquer such people on their own ground. If you have a slight\npain in your little finger, they have an excruciating pain in their\nthumb; if you have caught your robe on a nail, theirs has been rent\non a spike; if you have been wet in a shower, they have been soaked\nin a torrent. These persons have minor voices, make great use of\nchromatics in speaking, and their affections seem to be situated in\nthe liver.\n\nMr. Christopher Willian had a taint of this \"green and yellow\nmelancholy\" in his disposition, and his rapidly increasing family\ngave full scope for its development.\n\n\"If Eva were a boy, now,\" he sighed, \"I could soon have some one to\nhelp me in the shop. But--nothing but girls!\"\n\n\"Eva is a treasure!\" Mrs. Willian answered stoutly. \"I wouldn't\nexchange her for the best boy in the world.\"\n\n\"But girls are so expensive,\" the father objected, \"and they can't\nearn any thing; that is, mine can't. I don't want a daughter of mine\nto leave my house till she marries.\"\n\n\"And there is no need of their doing any thing, my dear,\" the mother\nreplied cheerfully. \"We own our house, and your business is very\ngood. Then, when the mortgages are paid off on your building, the\nrent of the upper flats will make us quite independent. In three or\nfour years we shall be out of the wood, all our pinching and toiling\nover.\"\n\nMrs. Willian was a thrifty, clear-headed, energetic woman; but,\nthough she would not have owned it, she herself found the prospect\nappalling. As she sat there after her husband left her, she glanced\nout the chamber window and saw Dinah, the one servant of the house,\nputting out the washing, her accusing face looming darkly over the\ninterminable lines of wet dry-goods. Oh! the strings to tie, the\nbuttons to button, the hooks to hook! And here on her knees lay\nanother candidate for such services, an unconscious little affliction\nof two weeks old! Oh! the rents and rips to mend, the darnings and\nmakings over, the little faces to wash and locks to comb, the faults\nto chide, the teasings to bear, the questions to answer! She had just\ngot a glimpse through the door of Eva with her hair in a snarl, and\nof Helen with soiled stockings on; she knew that Frances had tumbled\ndownstairs and set her nose bleeding; she could hear Anne crying\npathetically for mother to come and rock her to sleep, and she was\nalmost sure that every thing was at sixes and sevens in the kitchen.\n\n\"But I will not lose my courage!\" she exclaimed vehemently, and, in\nproof that she would not, burst into hysterical weeping.\n\nThe fifth girl grew apace, and after her came Josephine, and after\nJosephine came Jane.\n\n\"Mr. Willian is among the blessed,\" said the priest when this seventh\ndaughter was carried to him for baptism. \"_Verily, he shall not be\nconfounded when he shall speak to his enemies in the gate._\"\n\nOthers besides the priest had their jest concerning this regiment of\ngirls. Tradesmen smiled when purchases were made for them, people\nlaughed and counted when invitations were to be sent to them,\nneighbors went to their windows to see the Willian procession start\nfor church. They became proverbial, especially with their father.\n\nBut as years passed, words of praise began to drop in among the\njests. Mothers marvelled to see how early the Willian girls learned\nto sew and mend, how deftly they could use the broom and duster,\nwhat womanly ways the elder had toward the younger. These mothers\nreproachfully told their shiftless daughters what a dignified and\ncareful maiden Miss Eva was, and how even Anne could put a room\nto rights after the smaller fry, and sing Jenny to sleep with a\nvoice like a bobolink's. For all these children took to singing as\nnaturally as birds do, and warbled before they could speak.\n\nNor were their happy hearts less valuable in the house than their\nhelpful hands. Half the mother's load of care melted from her\nin the brightness of their faces, and the anxious cloud on Mr.\nChristopher Willian's brow lightened in spite of him whenever some\ngushing sprite, all laughter and kisses, ran to welcome him home.\nHe was sometimes vexed on recollecting how he had been lured from\na good grumble by their baby wiles. Indeed, he was not nearly so\ndissatisfied as he pretended to be. Such sweet and healthy affections\nas theirs were, which, never having been checked, flowed out in\njoyous innocence; such pure, unerring instincts, that needed no\nknowledge of baseness in order to shrink from its contact; such\nopen hands for the poor, such tender hands for the afflicted; and,\ncrowning all, such steadfast, unassuming piety. Among the young\nladies who, dressed to attract attention, promenaded the public\nstreets, the Willian girls were never found; their father's house was\nthe place where they made new acquaintances and entertained old ones.\nAnd what did they conceal from their parents? Nothing. Their hopes\nand plans and fears, their mistakes, their faults, all were freely\ntold. And how pretty they were! Their father secretly made the most\nflowery comparisons when looking at them. He mentally challenged the\ndew-washed morning roses and violets to vie with their fresh faces\naround the breakfast table. When at evening they formed a ring of\nbloom around the piano, and sang for their parents, or for visitors,\nhis private opinion was, that a choir of angels could not far excel\nthem; and when the circle broke, like a wreath falling into flowers,\nand each went about some pretty employment, then Mr. Willian had\nnot eyes enough with which to watch his seven girls. But once own\nto any such feeling, and there would be an end to his privilege\nof grumbling. He well knew what a chorus would assail his first\ngrievance: \"Why, papa, you said that we were--\" etc.; or, \"Now, Mr.\nWillian, do be consistent! With my own ears I have heard you say--\"\netc. So he wrapped the silver lining of his cloud inward, and showed\nthem only the gray.\n\nBut one evening, for a wonder, he came home with a joyful face and\nno word of fault-finding. When Jenny, the youngest, ran to meet him,\nhe gave her a toss nearly to the ceiling; he gave one of Fanny's\ncurls a pull in passing her; he presented his wife with a bunch of\nlate flowers, he praised every thing on the supper-table. Finally,\nwhen they were gathered in the evening, he told them the cause of\nthis unusual hilarity. He had that day made the last payment on the\nbuilding in which he had his shop, and now their weary economies were\nat an end.\n\n\"But don't imagine, you young witches, that all this is to go in\nfinery,\" he said, giving the nearest one a pinch on the cheek. \"The\nhouse here needs a little fitting up, and perhaps we will have a new\npiano. But I must begin now to lay by something. A man with such a\nload of girls on his shoulders has to think of the future.\"\n\nThey were too much accustomed to remarks like the last to be greatly\ndisturbed by them, but this threw a momentary dampening. Then the\nsilence was broken by Miss Eva's calm and musical voice: \"The house\nneeds to be painted and papered and furnished from basement to attic.\nIt is very shabby.\"\n\nMr. Willian forgot to exclaim at the dimensions of this proposition\nwhen he looked in the fair face of his eldest daughter, and saw the\nserene grace with which she seated herself beside her mother, and\nsmoothed down the folds of her dress. Eva was now twenty, calm,\nblonde, and stately.\n\n\"O papa!\" cried Florence across the fireplace; \"do buy a lovely\nlandscape of Weber's we saw to-day. It is just what we want to put\nover the mantel-piece in the front parlor.\" Again the father looked,\nbut said nothing.\n\nFlorence was a girl of artistic tastes, was frail and excitable, and\nhad brilliant violet eyes and an unsteady scarlet in her cheeks.\n\n\"Now at last I can have a watch!\" cried Frances in a ringing voice.\n\"I've nearly got a curvature of the spine from looking round at the\nclock to see if I have practised long enough.\"\n\n\"My dear Fanny,\" interposed her mother, \"we need a new set of china\nmuch more than you need a watch.\"\n\nFrances was the romp of the family, a large girl of sixteen, with\nheaps of brown curls around a _piquante_ face.\n\n\"I wish I had a little rosewood writing-desk and a pearl pen-handle,\"\ncame in a clear, insinuating voice very high up the scale. Anne sat\nin a low chair, with her chin in her hand, her elbow on her knee, and\nher gaze fixed intently on the cornice of the room. But perceiving\nno notice taken of her remark, she lowered her glance, and gave her\nfather a look out of the corners of her eyes, which thereby got the\nappearance of being nearly all whites.\n\nAnne was fourteen years of age, and had a quiet way of doing as she\npleased and getting all she wanted without seeming to try. Frances\ncalled her pussy-cat.\n\n\"O papa!\" broke in Georgiana, \"can't I have a pair of skates and\nlearn to skate?\"\n\n\"I want a silver mug!\" cried Jane, the youngest, striking in before\nJosephine.\n\nJosephine sat in the shadow of her father's chair, and had two small\nwrinkles between her brows.\n\n\"Is there any thing else any one will have?\" asked Mr. Willian with\nexcessive politeness, after having caught breath. \"Don't be bashful,\nI beg! It is a pity there are only seven of you, with your mother\nmaking eight. Possibly by putting a mortgage on the house, I may be\nable to gratify your wishes. Speak up--do!\"\n\nEver so slight a cloud settled upon the gentleman's audience as he\nglanced over them, bowing suavely, and rubbing his hands with an\nappearance of great cordiality.\n\n\"Papa!\" came in a little voice out of the shadow. Every one had\nforgotten Josephine.\n\nA real smile melted the waxen mask of a smile on Mr. Willian's face.\n\n\"Poor Josie!\" he said.\n\nShe came out of her corner and stood by his side. \"Papa, have you got\nthe block insured?\" she asked.\n\nHer father colored suddenly as he put his arm about the child and\ndrew her closer to him. \"Here girls,\" he said, \"is one who thinks\nof the means as well as the end. She never will ruin any one by her\nextravagance.\"\n\n\"But have you, papa?\" she persisted.\n\n\"This house is all right, dear; and I'm going to insure the store\nto-morrow.\"\n\nHe spoke carelessly, but there was a slight stir of uneasiness\nperceptible beneath.\n\nHis wife looked at him with surprise. \"Why, father, how happened you\nto let it run out?\"\n\n\"I was so busy to-day I forgot all about it,\" he said almost\npettishly. \"The policy expired only yesterday. I'll see to it the\nfirst thing in the morning. Go and sing something, girls.\"\n\nAll but Josie gathered about the piano, and sang one of William\nBlake's songs:\n\n    \"Can I see another's woe,\n    And not be in sorrow too?\n    Can I see another's grief,\n    And not seek for kind relief?\n\n    \"Can I see a falling tear,\n    And not feel my sorrow's share?\n    Can a father see his child\n    Weep, nor be with sorrow filled?\n\n    \"Can a mother sit and hear\n    An infant groan, an infant fear?\n    No, no! never can it be;\n    Never, never can it be!\n\n    \"And can He, who smiles on all,\n    Hear the wren with sorrows small,\n    Hear the small bird's grief and care,\n    Hear the woes that infants bear,\n\n    \"And not sit beside the nest\n    Pouring pity in their breast?\n    And not sit the cradle near,\n    Weeping tear on infant's tear?\n\n    \"And not sit both night and day,\n    Wiping all our tears away?\n    Oh! no; never can it be;\n    Never, never can it be!\n\n    \"He doth give his joy to all;\n    He becomes an infant small,\n    He becomes a man of woe,\n    He doth feel the sorrow too.\"\n\nIn the midst of the last soft strain Eva's hands paused on the keys,\nher sisters ceased singing, and her father and mother lifted their\nfaces to listen; for a loud gamut of bells outside had run up the\nfirst stroke of the fire-alarm. At the last stroke, Mr. Willian\nstarted up and went into the entry for his hat. Not a word was said\nas he went out; but the girls gathered about their mother, and stood\nwith the breath just hovering on their lips, counting the alarm over\nand over, hoping against hope. But, no; they had counted rightly at\nfirst. The loud clear strokes through that silence left no room for\ndoubt.\n\nThe girls drew nearer their mother, their faces losing color.\n\n\"I can't bear the suspense, Eva,\" she said. \"Get our bonnets, and we\nwill go down-town. Don't cry, Josie! You children all stay here and\nsay the rosary while we are gone. We will soon be back, and perhaps\nwe shall bring good news.\"\n\nFlorence took her beads from her pocket, put her arm around the\nweeping Josie, and drew her down to her knees before their mother's\nchair. Mrs. Willian glanced back as the others knelt too, then shut\nthe door, breathing a blessing on them. \"If it should be God's will\nto spare us now,\" she said, \"I shall be the happiest mother in the\nworld.\"\n\nIt was not God's will to spare them, she soon found. As they turned\nthe last corner and came in sight of Mr. Willian's building, they\nsaw it the centre of a vast crowd, firemen, volunteer workers, and\nlookers-on. There was no appearance of fire in the lower stories, but\nsmoke was gushing through all the interstices of the upper windows.\n\nMrs. Willian wrung her hands and turned away. \"There go the savings\nand toil of a lifetime!\" she said.\n\nIt was impossible for the firemen to work well at that height,\nand the flames were creeping to the air. In a few minutes the\nsmoke reddened, a little tongue of flame crept through a crevice,\nbroadened, and the fire burst forth. No effort could stay it.\nLeisurely descending from floor to floor, it carried all before it.\nA thread of smoke in a corner of the ceiling, a tiny flame, and soon\nthe whole room would be an intolerable brightness with masses of\nfalling flaming timbers.\n\nAt midnight the family were all at home again; Mr. Willian lying\nhalf-senseless upon a sofa, his wife and children ministering to him.\nIn his frantic efforts to save something from the burning building,\none of his arms had been broken by the falling bricks.\n\nThose were sorrowful days that followed, verifying the proverb\nthat it never rains but it pours. Josephine was taken ill the week\nafter the fire; but she was sure to be well soon, they said. She\nwas not very ill. There was a little cough, a little fever, and a\ngreat weakness. The girls thought not much of it. They were too much\nengaged, indeed, attending to their father, and doing an immense deal\nof mysterious outside business.\n\n\"If Eva were only a boy!\" sighed the father weakly. \"A boy of twenty\ncould earn a good salary.\"\n\n\"Father,\" Eva began very decidedly, \"a girl of twenty can earn a\ngood salary. Let me tell you what your good-for-nothing daughters\nare going to do. We haven't been idle the fortnight past. I am to\ntake immediate charge of a class in the N---- school, with a salary\nof five hundred dollars to begin with, and a yearly advance. I shall\nstay at home, by your leave, and nearly all my money will go toward\nthe housekeeping expenses. Besides that, I have a music class of\nfour. So much for me. I doubt if that wonderful son would spare you\nmore out of his earnings. Florence is to take a few more lessons in\nIndian-ink from Mr. Rudolf, and he says that in four or five weeks\nshe will be able to earn ten dollars a week, painting photographs.\nFrances has got tatten and crochet-work to do for Blake Brothers, and\nthey promise to pay her well. She does such work beautifully. Anne is\nto cut out paper bordering for Mr. Sales, who is building blocks upon\nblocks of houses. He says that he will keep her busy three months.\nGeorgiana is to help mother about the house, and Dinah is going\naway. So now, father, you can lie on your sofa and rest, and your\ntroublesome daughters will not let you starve.\"\n\nMiss Eva ended with her cheeks very red, and her head very high in\nthe air. But her pride softened immediately when she saw her father's\nquivering lips, that vainly attempted to speak.\n\n\"It is our turn now, dear papa,\" she said, kissing him; \"and we are\nquite proud and eager to begin. You have cast your bread upon the\nwaters in former times; now you must lie still and see it float back\nto you.\"\n\n\"What can I do?\" asked a weak little voice from the arm-chair where\nJosie reclined.\n\n\"You can see which will get well the most quickly, you or papa,\" Mrs.\nWillian said, bending with tearful eyes to caress the child. In this\ncareful little one she saw embodied all the unconfessed sadness and\nanxiety of the one despondent period of her life. Poor Josie was the\nscape-goat on whose frail shoulders had been laid her mother's doubts\nand fears, and her father's selfish complaining.\n\nSuccess almost always attends brave and cheerful effort, and the\nWillian girls succeeded. Besides, they were heroines in their way,\nand every one was sympathizing and helpful to them. But for their\nfather's depression, they would have been happier than ever before.\nAt last they were of use, and not only of use, but necessary. They\nwere no longer a burden tenderly but complainingly borne, but they\nbore the family cares and labors on their own young shoulders.\nWhat wonderful consultations they held, what plans they laid, what\neconomies they practised! What latent administrative powers were\ndeveloped at the hour of need, and what superlative managers they\nproved themselves to be! How elastic a little money could be made\nwhen smoothed out by such coaxing taper fingers, and shone upon by\nsuch bright and careful eyes! Besides, they could not see but that\nthey lived as well as ever. Their breakfasts and dinners and suppers\nwere as good, and their home was the same.\n\n\"Half the pleasure of wealth is in the consciousness of possessing\nit,\" said Florence philosophically. \"Was it John Jacob Astor who said\nthat all he had from his riches was food and lodging? Well, we have\nthat. Of course it is a pity that papa's arm is still bad, though it\ngives him time to develop his capacity for novels. What! ascetical\nworks are they? Yes; but I have seen novels too, papa. And here's a\nnew one for you. Take it easy. Just lie there and make believe that\nyou have become so rich that you have retired from business. Oh! what\nblocks of houses you have. What ships, what lands, what bank-stock!\nIsn't it weary to think what heaps of money you have to spend and\ngive away. Don't let's think about it!\"\n\n\"I came past the ruins of the fire to-day, papa,\" Eva said, seating\nherself by his sofa, and looking at him with her calm, sweet eyes.\n\"At first I was so foolish as to shrink and turn my head away, but\nthe next moment I looked. And I thought, papa, that may be what has\nseemed to us a calamity may turn out a great blessing. We had built a\ngood many hopes into that brick and mortar, and instead of the fire\ndestroying, perhaps it has only purified them.\" Seeing that tears\ncame into his eyes, she added hastily, \"Fanny was with me, and, of\ncourse, took a grotesque view of the affair. She said that row of\ntall buildings, with ours gone, looked like somebody who had lost a\nfront tooth.\"\n\nMr. Willian smiled faintly, but could answer nothing to their\ncheerful talk. Even while it comforted him, it made him feel bitterly\nashamed of himself. Besides, he was very anxious about Josie.\n\nIt came upon them like a thunderbolt: Josie was dying! They could\nscarcely believe the doctor, or the evidence of their own senses.\nThey hoped against hope. There was no definable disease; but the\nchild was dying merely because, instead of having had a healthy,\ncareless childhood, and time to learn gradually that life is not all\njoy and sunshine, her infant eyes had looked too early upon the cross\nof pain, and she had seen the shadow and felt the weight of it before\nshe could understand its consolation.\n\n\"That'll make one less, papa,\" she said faintly, looking up with\nfaded eyes as he bent over her.\n\n\"One less what, my dear?\"\n\n\"One less girl to support,\" says Josie.\n\nThe father's face sank to the pillow. Oh! what a bitter punishment\nfor his selfish complainings, when his own child, in dying out of\nhis arms, thought only that she was ridding him of a burden! He\ncould scarcely find words in which to sob out his love, his regrets,\nhis entreaties that her tender spirit might be spared at least long\nenough to witness his expiation. But even while he prayed it escaped\nhim. He clasped only a frail waxen form that answered no kiss,\nuttered no more any childish, plaintive word.\n\n\"God forgive me!\" he said. \"Now I know what real loss is; and I\ndeserve it.\"\n\nHow they missed the careful, pathetic little face! How often they\nbecame suddenly speechless when, in laying their plans--they found\nthat they had unconsciously included Josie! But they worked on\nbravely in spite of pain--worked the better for it, indeed. And when\nin after-years, all happy and prosperous and with homes of their own,\nthey talked over the past, and Mr. Willian told of the wonderful time\nwhen his daughters had made caryatides of themselves to support the\nedifice of his fallen fortunes, Josie was gratefully mentioned as the\nnoblest helper there. \"For it was by her means that the cornerstone\nof our new home was laid in heaven,\" he said.\n\n\n\n\nRELIGION IN EDUCATION.\n\n\nIn every century there has arisen some question which, by reason of\nits intrinsic importance, or immediate influence on society, may\nbe called the problem of the age. Our century, though differing\nin so many respects from all the others, is not, however, an\nexception to this seeming law of history. Not a few long-standing\ngrievances have been righted, knotty political intricacies severed,\nand brilliant scientific triumphs achieved; yet important as was\nthe emancipation of 1829 or the disestablishment of 1869, the\nlaying of the transmarine cable, or the cutting of Suez, we believe\nwith the _Dublin Review_ that the great problem of our age is the\nadjustment of the oft-debated educational question. Much has been\nsaid, many editorials have been written, and pamphlets published\non this subject. It has afforded a noble theme for such orators as\nLacordaire, Montalembert, and Archbishop Hughes; and a trying task\nfor the skill and practical wisdom of such eminent statesmen as\nThiers, Lord Derby, and Gladstone. We know no better proof of the\nvital importance of education, than the active part thus taken in its\ndiscussion by men of every religious persuasion and political shade.\nIn fact, few questions affect so directly the welfare and interests\nof the people; and assuredly in this country there is none of more\nmoment as regards the well-being and permanence of our national\ninstitutions.\n\nTwo centuries ago, Leibnitz declared the proper training of youth\nto be \"the foundation of human happiness;\" in the last century,\nWashington called it the \"pillar\" of society; and in our own, Bishop\nDupanloup assures us that it and it alone \"forms the greatness\nof a nation, maintains its splendor, and prevents decay.\" But it\nmay be argued that intellectual discipline without the co\u00f6peration\nof any religious element will produce these great and inestimable\nresults. This we deny. Did polite literature, for instance, save\nthe most refined nation of antiquity? Listen to the masters of the\nlyre bewailing the degradation of their countrymen, and sighing for\na purer and loftier virtue than any their religion could inspire.\nDid the plastic arts? Phidias and Apelles will return the melancholy\nanswer. The eloquence of the orator? The noblest appeals of duty,\nthe most patriotic harangue or spirit-stirring philippic palled\nalike upon a degenerate race. The wisdom of the legislator? All\nthe sagacity of Solon and Lycurgus could but retard the downfall\nof the country. In fine, did philosophy? Its schools were often\nsinks of immorality, and vice. A few great minds, indeed, rose\nabove the absurd creations of mythology, and taught the precepts\nof natural morality; but, like the dragon-fly of the tropics, they\nflitted across the night of paganism, lights to themselves and mere\nornaments of the surrounding darkness. No wonder that the Grecian\nstates declined, that their last day soon \"quivered on the dial of\ntheir doom,\" and that they went down into a night which never knew a\nmorrow. The Romans once added to the speculative wisdom of the Greeks\nan almost heroic practice of all the natural virtues. Yet they, too,\nwere swept by a torrent of vice into the common tomb of nations; and\nonly a few broken columns remain to-day to tell the traveller what\nwas once the seat of a world-wide empire.\n\nSeparate religion, then, from education, as Mr. John Stuart Mill\nwould fain do; banish it entirely from the class-room, and you\nwill have taken the most effective means of insuring proximate\ndissoluteness and ultimate ruin. Even the author of _Lothair_\nrecognizes that \"without religion the world must soon become a scene\nof universal desolation.\" If, when children are asked how they are\noccupied in school, they cannot say with the Joas of Racine,\n\n    \"J'adore le Seigneur, on m'explique sa loi,\"\n\nsooner or later, we may have to say with Abner,\n\n    \"Juda est sans force, Benjamin sans vertu.\"\n\nIntellectual culture, therefore, even in its highest perfection,\ncan gain at best but an ephemeral triumph. It cannot perpetuate the\ncivilization to which a people in the meridian of their greatness may\nattain; and it certainly has never raised a fallen empire, nor poured\na quickening stream through the veins of a superannuated nation. This\ninefficiency can be accounted for only by the absence of that pure\nand sublime faith which commanded the respect of the hordes that\npoured from the north, to batter down the last remains of a gigantic\nfabric, as well as of that sublime moral code which tamed these rude\nnomads and raised them from a savage state to the loftiest heights of\nChristian civilization.\n\nThe term education is from the Latin _e_ and _duco_, meaning\nliterally to lead or draw out. Some writers have attempted to define\nit \"the drawing out or development of the mental faculties.\" This\nmay be a \"scientific\" view of head-culture; but as a definition of\neducation, it is defective and very unphilosophical. Defective,\nbecause it embraces only a part; unphilosophical, because it\nsubstitutes the secondary for the essential. We maintain that\ninstruction is but a branch of education, to which religion is as\nthe parent stem. If we consult the masters of thought, and those\nwho shape the destinies of nations, we shall be surprised to find\nhow unanimously they hold moral training paramount to intellectual\nculture, and how strongly they insist on making the latter always\nsubservient to the former. The better to substantiate our assertion\nagainst the cavillings of sceptics, we will give a few quotations,\nselecting only from Protestant authors. The end of education,\naccording to Milton, \"is to fit man to perform justly, skilfully,\nand magnanimously all the offices both public and private of peace\nand war.\" \"The hard and valuable part of education,\" says Locke, \"is\nvirtue; this is the solid and substantial good which the teacher\nshould never cease to inculcate till the young man places his\nstrength, his glory, and his pleasure in it.\" \"The educating of a\nyoung man,\" writes Lord Kames, \"to behave well in society is of\nstill greater importance than making him a Solomon in knowledge;\"\nand \"We shall never know,\" says Sir Walter Scott, \"our real calling\nor destiny, unless we have taught ourselves to consider every thing\nelse as moon-shine compared with the education of the heart.\" And\nLord Derby: \"Religion is not a thing apart from education, but is\ninterwoven with its whole system; it is a principle which controls\nand regulates the whole mind and happiness of the people.\" And\nGuizot: \"Popular education, to be truly good and socially useful,\nmust be fundamentally religious.\"\n\nThus, then, the essential element of education--its pith and\nmarrow, so to speak--is the religious element. To exclude it from\nthe school-room is, therefore, a crying injustice to the rising\ngeneration and a crime against society.\n\nIt is not one portion of the \"triple man,\" but the whole--the\nphysical, intellectual, and moral being--the body, the mind, the\nhead--that must be cultivated and \"brought up.\" Neglect any one part\nof man's nature, and you at once disturb the equilibrium of the\nwhole, and produce disorder; educate the body at the expense of the\nmind and soul, and you will have only animated clay; educate the\nintelligence at the expense of the moral and religious feelings, and\nyou but fearfully increase a man's power to effect evil. You store\nthe arsenal of his mind with weapons to sap alike the altar and\nthe throne, to carry on a war of extermination against every holy\nprinciple, against the welfare and the very existence of society.\n\nCatiline, the polished patrician, was more dreaded by the Roman\nsenate than the steel of his hired assassins. The French revolution,\nthe most violent outbreak that ever convulsed society, was ushered\nin by a blaze of genius; but, like the high intelligence of the\n\"archangel ruined,\" it brought desolation and death in its fiery\ntrack. Science without religion is more destructive than the sword in\nthe hands of unprincipled men. \"Talent if divorced from rectitude,\"\nsays Channing, \"will prove more of a demon than a god.\" It is these\nenlightened infidels that arrest the progress of true civilization\nand prepare those terrible catastrophes which deluge a country with\nblood. Who were the leaders in the work of destruction and wholesale\nbutchery in the Reign of Terror? The nurslings of lyceums in which\nthe chaotic principles of the \"philosophers\" were proclaimed as\noracles of truth. Who are those turbulent revolutionists who now long\nto erect the guillotine by the Tuileries? And who are those secret\nconspirators and their myrmidon partisans who have sworn to unify\nItaly or lay it in ruins? Men who were taught to scout the idea of a\nGod and rail at religion; to consider Christianity as a thing of the\npast and a legion of \"isms\" as the regenerators of the future; men\nwho revel in wild chimeras by night, and seek to realize their mad\ndreams by day.\n\nThe frightful excesses to which irreligion directly leads so struck\none of the most frantic revolutionists of 1793 that, yet dripping\nwith blood, he mounted to the pediment of a temple and with a pencil\nwrote this memorable inscription, \"The French nation recognizes the\nexistence of a Supreme Being;\" and a few hours before ascending the\nscaffold to suffer the just penalty of his enormities, he cried out\nto his countrymen, \"The republic can only be established on the\neternal bases of morality.\" Terrible confession wrung from a regicide\nin the most impious moment of history!\n\nRobespierre proclaimed the truth. The only safety for a commonwealth,\nthe only source of greatness and prosperity for a nation, as well as\nof tranquillity and happiness for the individual, is religion. When\nmen reject its heavenly guidance, duty becomes as void of meaning to\nthem as \"honor\" was to a well-known Shakespearean character, the most\nsacred obligations dwindle down into mere optional practices, and the\nmoral code itself soon becomes little more than the bugbear of the\nweak-minded. \"The safeguard of morality,\" says De Tocqueville, \"is\nreligion;\" and he concludes a chapter of his _American Republic_ with\nthe following pertinent remark: \"Religion is the companion of liberty\nin all its battles and triumphs; the cradle of its infancy, and the\ndivine source of its claims; it is the safeguard of morality, and\nmorality is the best security of law as well as the surest pledge of\nfreedom.\"\n\nThe philosophers of the eighteenth century, by their monstrous errors\nand shameless depravity, have shown but too clearly that science\nwithout religion\n\n    \"Leads to bewilder, and dazzles to blind.\"\n\nThese vaunted _esprits forts_ had entered the realms of learning\nand returned as conquerors laden with treasures; but instead of\nconsecrating the spoil to the service of the true, the good, and\nthe beautiful, they paid it as a votive tribute to the evil genius\nof license and disorder. The world then saw these very men to whom\nprinces had offered the incense of adulation enthrone an impure\ngoddess on the altar of the Most High, and fall prostrate before a\npublic harlot.\n\nIf further proof were needed of the immoral tendency of science\nseparated from religion, we could silently point to the nameless\nabominations of the Communists, Fourierists, and other such vile and\ndegraded fraternities; we could dwell on the cold-blooded murders and\nfrightful suicides that fill so many domestic hearths with grief and\nshame; the scarcely concealed corruption of public and professional\nmen; the adroit peculation and wilful embezzlement of the public\nmoney; those monopolizing speculations and voluntary insolvencies so\nruinous to the community at large; and, above all, those shocking\natrocities so common in unbelieving countries--the legal dissolution\nof the matrimonial tie and the wanton tampering with life in its very\nbud. These humiliating facts are sufficient to convince any impartial\nmind that there can be no social virtue, no morality, no true and\nlasting greatness without religion.\n\nHere we meet the question, When should these salutary doctrines\nbe inculcated? As well might it be asked when the builder should\nlay the foundation of his edifice, or the farmer sow his field. If\nreligious principles be not laid broad and deep in childhood, there\nis great danger that the superstructure will topple and fall. Youth\nhas been called the seed-time of life; and experience as well as\nreason proves the same law to hold good in mental as in material\nhusbandry; \"What you sow that you shall reap.\" Men do not seek grapes\nfrom thorns, nor figs from thistles. Yet, by a strange inconsistency,\nsome would expect virtuous youths from godless schools. But the order\nof nature cannot be reversed. Like generates like.\n\nIn childhood the mind is simple and docile; the soul, pure and\ncandid; and the heart may easily be cast into any mould. It is of the\nhighest importance for parents and educators to bear in mind that\nthe first impressions are the last forgotten. The pious child may in\nafter-life, in an evil hour, be led astray by the force of passion or\nbad example, but at least, when the fires of youth have cooled with\nadvancing age, there is great probability that he will return again\nto virtue and piety. With great truth the poet has said,\n\n    \"Take care in youth to form the heart and mind,\n    For as the twig is bent, the tree's inclined.\"\n\nOne of the greatest thinkers of our age, thoroughly convinced of\nthe paramount importance of early moral training, would have the\nair of the school-room, as it were, impregnated with religion.\n\"It is necessary,\" says Guizot, \"that natural education should be\ngiven and received in the midst of a religious atmosphere, and that\nreligious impressions and religious observances should penetrate\nall its parts.\" It would, indeed, be well if those who advocate the\nexclusion of religion from our schools would read and maturely weigh\nthese words of the illustrious Protestant statesman and historian. A\nlittle further on occurs the following remarkable passage: \"Religion\nis not a study or an exercise, to be restricted to a certain place\nand a certain hour; it is a faith and a law which ought to be felt\neverywhere, and which in this manner alone can exercise all its\nbeneficent influence upon our minds and lives.\" In the same spirit\nDisraeli says, \"Religion should be the rule of life, not a casual\nincidence.\" It is then absurd to devote six days of the week to\nthe teaching of human learning, and trust to a hurried hour in the\nSunday-school for the imparting of religious knowledge. By such a\nsystem, we may make expert shop-boys, first-rate accountants, shrewd\nand thriving \"earth-worms,\" as Bishop Berkeley says; but it would\nbe presumption to think of thus making good citizens, still less\nvirtuous Christians.\n\nTo-day more than ever we need a thorough religious education. The\nenemies of Christianity are now making war upon its dogmas more\ngenerally and craftily than at any former period. Their attacks, for\nbeing wily and concealed, are all the more pernicious. The impious\nrage of a Voltaire, or the \"solemn sneer\" of a Gibbon, would be less\ndangerous than this insidious warfare. They disguise their designs\nunder the appearance of devotion to progressive ideas, hatred of\nsuperstition and intolerance, all the better to instil the slow\nbut deadly poison. By honeyed words, a studied candor, a dazzle of\nerudition, they have spread their \"gossamer nets of seduction\" over\nthe world. The press teems with books and journals in which doctrines\nsubversive of religion and morality are so elegantly set forth that\nthe unguarded reader, like Roger in Ariosto, is very apt to be\ndeceived by the fascination of false charms, and to mistake a most\nhideous and dangerous object for the very type of beauty. The serpent\nstealthily glides under the silken verdure of a polished style.\nNothing is omitted. The passions are fed and the morbid sensibilities\npandered to; firmness in the cause of truth or virtue is called\nobstinacy; and strength of soul, a refractory blindness. The bases\nof morality are sapped in the name of liberty; the discipline of the\nchurch, when not branded as sheer \"mummery,\" is held up as hostile\nto personal freedom; and her dogmas with one or two exceptions are\ntreated as opinions which may be received or rejected with like\nindifference.\n\nNor is this irreligious tendency confined to literary publications;\nit finds numerous and powerful advocates in men of scientific\npursuits, who, like Belial in Milton, \"strive to make the worse\nappear the better cause.\" The chemist has never found in his crucible\nthat intangible something which men call spirit; so, in the name of\nscience, he pronounces it a myth. The anatomist has dissected the\nhuman frame; but failing to meet the immaterial substance--the soul,\nhe denies its existence. The physicist has weighed the conflicting\ntheories of his predecessors in the scales of criticism; and finally\ndecides that bodies are nothing more than the accidental assemblage\nof atoms, and rejects the very idea of a Creator. The geologist,\nafter investigating the secrets of the earth, triumphantly tells us\nthat he has accumulated an overwhelming mass of facts to refute the\nbiblical cosmogony and thus subvert the authority of the inspired\nrecord. The astronomer flatters himself that he has discovered\nnatural and necessary laws which do away with the necessity of\nadmitting that a divine hand once launched the heavenly bodies\ninto space and still guides them in their courses; the ethnographer\nhas studied the peculiarities of the races, he has met with\nwidely-different conformations, and believes himself sufficiently\nauthorized to deny the unity of the human family; in a word, they\nconclude that nothing exists but matter, that God is a myth, and the\nsoul \"the dream of a dream.\"\n\nThus do men attack these sacred truths which, in the words of Balmes,\n\"cannot be shaken without greatly injuring and finally destroying\nthe social edifice.\" What, then, must be done to save society from\nthe perils that menace it--to stem the tide that bids fair to sweep\naway eventually even civilization itself? What is the remedy for\nthe profligacy that disgraces some of our crowded centres, and the\ndemoralization that is fast gangrening our rural districts? There is\n_one_, and we believe there is _but_ one. Let the rising generation\nbe \"brought up\" in a \"religious atmosphere.\" If we Christianize our\nyouth, we may be sure of having a virtuous and a virile people; for\nit is an ethical truth, that \"the morals are but the outward forms\nof the inner life.\"\n\nThe Father of our country, then, was right, when he said, in his\nfarewell address to the American nation, that religion and morality\nare the \"props\" of society and the \"pillars\" of the state. History\ntells in its every page that the decline and downfall of nations have\never been caused by immorality and irreligion.\n\nOur national institutions, our prosperity and civilization depend\nfor their permanence and perpetuity not so much on the culture of\nthe arts, sciences, literature, or philosophy, as on the general\ndiffusion of the salutary and vivifying principles of religion.\n\nLet us then infuse good morals by the most powerful of all means,\nChristian education; let doctrine be taught simultaneously with\nscience; let the class-room be impregnated with the sweet and\nlife-giving aroma of Christianity, and we shall soon check the\ntorrent of infidelity, avert impending evils, and prepare the golden\nage of our republic.\n\n\n\n\nTRANSLATED FROM THE REVUE MILITAIRE FRANCAISE.\n\nTHE JOURNAL OF THE CAMPAIGN OF CLAUDE BLANCHARD,\n\nCOMMISSARY-GENERAL TO THE AUXILIARY TROOPS SENT TO AMERICA UNDER THE\nCOMMAND OF LIEUTENANT-GENERAL THE COUNT DE ROCHAMBEAU. 1780-1783.\n\n\n\"I spent three years, in the capacity of commissary-general, with the\nbody of troops which General Rochambeau brought to the assistance of\nthe Americans. During the entire war, I wrote down every day, dating\nfrom our departure from Brest, both the events I witnessed, and those\nthat were personal. This journal is not in very good order, and now\nthat I have leisure, (Messidor, second year of the Republic,) I\nintend to copy it out clearly, without making any important change in\neither the style or the matter. I wrote, however, merely for my own\namusement, and for an occupation in idle moments.\"\n\nThus begins a manuscript, hitherto unpublished and entirely\nunknown, which appears worthy of being noticed and rescued from\noblivion. The author of this journal, Commissary Blanchard, became\nlater commissary-general, but was deprived of this position by\nthe government of the Reign of Terror, whose persecutions at the\ntime--the eve of the fall of Robespierre--ending generally in a\nsentence of death, he hid himself in Paris. Such is the leisure he\nspeaks of in the passage cited above; leisure very short, however,\nand which he occupied in the manner indicated, by reviewing his\nnotes of past times and collecting his personal reminiscences of the\nAmerican expedition so dear to all who had taken part in it. Soon\nafterward he was restored to active service, and thought no more,\nin a career occupied with the wars of the period, of the manuscript\nwhich he had not intended for publicity, and which, after his death\nin 1803, remained forgotten among family papers, as so many other\ndocuments have which are still unknown. Compared with the works\npublished on the same events which he writes of, this journal, now\nninety years old, certainly has its own value and special interest.\nIt is apparent from the first lines of the manuscript, quoted at the\nbeginning of this article, that M. Blanchard wrote without special\nthought--merely for his own satisfaction, and prompted by the\nnatural desire to note down whatever he saw, without any intention\nof composing a history or a book of memoirs. This is an excellent\ndisposition for sincerity, and our epoch loves and prefers to all\nothers these unstudied writings, when they refer, as they do in this\ncase, to interesting periods of the past.\n\nThe author of this journal was forty years of age at the time of\nthe American war. Though now completely forgotten, he attracted\nconsiderable attention in his day, and he figures in the \"Biographies\nUniverselles\" of the beginning of the century. Born at Angers, on\nthe 16th of May, 1742, and sprung from a distinguished family of\nthat city, he appears, for the first time in 1762 in the war bureau,\nunder the orders of one of his relations, M. Dubois, \"Chief of the\nWar Bureau and General Secretary of the Swiss and Grisons.\"[290]\nHe was appointed commissary in 1768, and served in this capacity\nthroughout the Corsican campaign, remaining on the island ten years.\nAs commissary-general, in 1780 he accompanied General Rochambeau to\nAmerica. In 1788, he was commissary at Arras, where the following\nyear he was put in command of the national guard of the city; and\nsoon afterward became, with Carnot, then unknown, its representative\nin the legislative assembly. Here M. Blanchard played a modest but\nactive and useful part, and he, with Lacu\u00e9e and Matthieu Dumas,\nformed the standing committee on military questions. Removed by\nthe Committee of Public Safety, he afterward held the position of\ncommissary-general successively to the army of Sambre-et-Meuse, to\nthat of the interior, to the army of Holland, and finally to the\nHotel des Invalides, where he died, leaving the reputation of an\nofficer \"remarkable for his talents and virtues.\"[291]\n\nThe First Consul, on hearing of his death, expressed deep regret,\naccording to the testimony of General Lacu\u00e9e. Blanchard, although\nat the time but sixty years of age, was the oldest among the\ncommissaries of the army.[292]\n\nThe journal of M. Blanchard will give a more correct idea of the\ncharacter of the man, of his upright and honest nature, and of his\nstrong and good sense. A few words are necessary, however, on the\nevents of which we have to speak, and of the writers who have related\nthem at first hand.\n\nThe violent struggle of the English colonies against the mother\ncountry began in 1775; Declaration of the Independence of the United\nStates--the hundredth anniversary of which is near at hand--was made\non the 4th of July, 1776. Soon afterward, when the Americans were\nhard pressed, France came to their aid, and the war with England\nopened with the fight at Ouessant on the 17th of June, 1778. It was\nat first a naval war which spread over the whole ocean. Subsequently,\nwhen the American cause was in a most critical condition, France,\nat the request of Congress, sent pecuniary assistance, and also a\nbody of troops, who were placed under the chief command of General\nWashington.\n\nThis war, in which we acquired glory at sea, and which raised up our\nnavy--this reappearance of the white flag in the new world, from\nwhich the seven years' war had excluded it[293]--the part taken by\nFrance in establishing the independence of the United States, and\nin founding a nation destined for so grand a future--are events\nof far more than ordinary importance, and which possess the same\ninterest to-day as when they transpired. Nevertheless their details\nare, as a general thing, but imperfectly known; and particularly\nthe campaign of the corps sent to America, which brought into\nclose contact the soldiers of old France and the militia of the\nyoung republic, is in the larger histories usually summed up in a\nfew lines.[294] This doubtless arises from the fact that no work\nof importance has treated this subject in a special manner. It is\ntrue that the little army commanded by General Rochambeau had few\nopportunities of distinguishing itself. But, although its active\nservices were confined to a few important marches, and to the taking\nof York town, which was forced to surrender, together with a division\nof the English army, it gave the Americans no inconsiderable moral\nsupport, as well as effective assistance which was most opportune.\nThe revolution which followed soon after, and the twenty-five years\nof war rendered glorious by so many famous campaigns, effaced the\nremembrance of the naval combat of Chesapeake Bay and the taking\nof Yorktown, and turned attention from military operations which\nare insignificant, if we consider the number of troops engaged, but\nimportant, if we look to the result. In fact, these battles between\na few thousand men, decided the fate of one of the most powerful of\nmodern nations as well as the future balance of the world.\n\nIt is not, however, because documents on the American campaign\nare wanting; on the contrary, they are numerous and interesting;\nour archives should possess intact the official reports; while\nindividual reminiscences contained in a number of books published at\ndifferent times, are valuable sources of information from which as\nyet nothing has been drawn. Four distinguished officers engaged in\nthis expedition among the French (not to mention American or English\nwriters) have found pleasure in recalling the memory and narrating\nthe incidents of what they considered the noblest or the dearest\nportion of their career; the _M\u00e9moires du Mar\u00e9chal de Rochambeau_,\n(1809,) the first source of information, give with clearness\nand precision, but without embellishment, a detailed account of\nthe campaign which above all else has served to render his name\nillustrious. Next comes the _Correspondance et Manuscrits du G\u00e9n\u00e9ral\nLa Fayette_, (1837,) although La Fayette took part in the war of\nindependence as a volunteer and an American general, independent of\nthe action of the royal forces. The _Souvenirs du Comte de S\u00e9gur_,\n(1835,) and those of _Comte Matthieu Dumas_, (1839,) young and\nbrilliant aides-de-camp to General Rochambeau, also furnish some\nparticulars about this campaign worthy of note. We must not forget\nthe _M\u00e9moires du Duc de Lauzun_, (1822,) colonel of a regiment in the\nexpeditionary corps, and the _Voyages dans l'Am\u00e9rique Septentrionale\nde M. le Marquis de Chastellux_, (1786,) major-general; this work,\nthough full of description and of anecdote, is of only moderate\nability; but the name of its author, a member of the Academy and a\nfriend of Voltaire, gave it a certain degree of success at the time\nof its appearance, owing to curiosity and to circumstances.\n\nAfter these works, which possess each a peculiar interest, and\nwithout pretending to the importance which they derive from the names\nof their distinguished authors, the journal of Commissary Blanchard\n(who is mentioned in all of them) deserves certainly an honorable\nplace. It is remarkable for great exactness, variety of information,\nand a genial and pleasant tone. Moreover, as it is devoted solely to\nthe American expedition, it is naturally more diffuse on this special\nsubject than books which treat of an entire life.\n\nWe shall now let the journal speak for itself:\n\n    \"Lieutenant-General the Count de Rochambeau, having been\n    appointed to the command of the corps which was under orders\n    to embark, although their destination was not yet positively\n    known, engaged me to serve with these troops, in my capacity of\n    commissary.\n\n    \"I accordingly repaired to Brest on the 20th of March, 1780. M.\n    de Tarl\u00e9, commissary of provisions, who performed the duties\n    of purveyor to the troops, did not arrive for eight or ten\n    days after; he brought me a commission as commissary-in-chief.\n    Finding myself alone at Brest, I assisted both the land and\n    naval commanders to ship all the supplies and whatever would\n    be necessary for the troops after they had landed. As the\n    navy had not been able to furnish a sufficient number of\n    transports, they were obliged to leave in France the regiments\n    of Neustrie and Anhalt, which were to have accompanied the\n    expedition as well as two or three hundred men of the legion of\n    Lauzun. Those who embarked numbered five thousand, consisting\n    of the regiments of Bourbonnais, Soissonnais, Saintonge,\n    Royal-deux-Ponts, about five hundred artillery-men, and six\n    hundred of the legion of Lauzun, of whom three hundred were\n    to form a body of cavalry. These troops, their baggage, the\n    artillery, and other things necessary to an army, were put on\n    board twenty-five to thirty transports or store-ships; they\n    were accompanied by seven vessels of war and seven frigates.\n    La Fantasque, an old vessel, was armed as a store-ship and\n    intended for a hospital; they put on board of her the money,\n    the heavy artillery, and a considerable number of passengers.\n\n    \"All the general officers slept on board the 14th of April; I\n    was there also, and embarked on the Conqu\u00e9rant, commanded by La\n    Grandi\u00e8re.\n\n    \"The following are the names of the principal persons who\n    composed our army:\n\n    \"Count de Rochambeau, lieutenant-general, commander-in-chief.\n\n    \"The Baron de Viom\u00e9nil, the Count de Viom\u00e9nil, the Chevalier de\n    Chastellux, field-marshals, (the last mentioned performs the\n    duties of a major-general.)\n\n    \"De B\u00e9ville, brigadier-general and quartermaster, (de Choisy,\n    brigadier, did not arrive till the 30th of September.)\n\n    \"De Tarl\u00e9, general commissary, acting as purveyor.\n\n    \"Blanchard, commissary-general.\n\n    \"De Corny, de Villemanzy, chief of ordnance.\n\n    \"Gau, commissary of artillery.\n\n    \"D'Aboville, commander-in-chief of artillery.\n\n    \"D\u00e9sandrouins, commander of the engineers.\n\n    \"Daure, purveyor of provisions.\n\n    \"Demars, purveyor of the hospitals.\n\n    \"There were yet many other purveyors, for forage, meat, etc.;\n    in general there were too many employed, particularly as\n    purveyors-in-chief; all this was according to the taste of M.\n    de Veym\u00e9rangers, in whose hands had been left the organization\n    of the commissary department of our army; a man skilful in\n    business matters, but given to expense and extravagance, and\n    who needed looking after.\n\n    \"M. de M\u00e9nonville and the Chevalier de Tarl\u00e9, brother of the\n    commissary, were general staff officers; M. de B\u00e9ville junior,\n    and M. Collot, were assistant quartermasters.\n\n    \"M. de Rochambeau had for his aides-de-camp M. de Fersey, de\n    Damas, Charles Lameth, Closen, Matthieu Dumas, Lamberdi\u00e9re, de\n    Vauban, and Cromot-Dubourg.\n\n    \"M. de Viom\u00e9nil had also several, among whom were MM. de\n    Chabannes, de Pange, d'Olonne, etc.\n\n    \"Those of M. de Chastellux were MM. Montesquieu, grandson of\n    the president, and Lynch, an Irishman.\n\n    \"The colonels were:\n\n    \"Of the regiment of Bourbonnais, the Marquis de Leval and the\n    Count de Rochambeau, (as second in command,) son of the general\n    in chief.\n\n    \"Of the Royal-Deux-Ponts, MM. de Deux-Ponts, brothers.\n\n    \"Of the Saintonge, MM. de Custine and the Viscount de Charlus,\n    son of M. de Castries.\n\n    \"Of the Soissonnais; MM. de Sainte-Mesme and the Viscount de\n    Noailles.\n\n    \"Of the legion of Lauzun, the Duke de Lauzun and M. de\n    Dillon.\"[295]\n\nI have copied this page because it shows to some extent the formation\nof the staff of an army corps of the last century, and also on\naccount of the names which it gives. They are those of the very\nhighest nobility of France, who threw themselves with enthusiasm into\nthis expedition, which they called the \"crusade of the eighteenth\ncentury.\"\n\nAmong the companions in arms of M. Blanchard, whose names often recur\nin his journal, many who were then young afterward became celebrated.\nNot to speak of two generals already distinguished, Rochambeau and La\nFayette, and the Chevalier, later the Marquis, de Chastellux, known\nby his connection with the encyclopedists, and who died in 1788,\nthe following are worthy of mention: Biron (the Duke de Lauzun) and\nCustine, two generals of the republic, who shared the same tragic\nfate; the Prince de Broglie, field-marshal in the army of the Rhine,\nindicted before the revolutionary tribunal, and executed in 1794;\nthe Count de Dillon, general in 1792, falsely accused of treason,\nput to death by his troops, and to whom the Convention, in gratitude\nfor his devotion, decreed the honors of the Pantheon; Pichegru, at\nthat time only an artillery-man; the Viscount de Noailles, who, on\nthe famous night of the fourth of August, was the first to propose\nthe abolition of the feudal laws; (his military future promised to\nbe brilliant when he died in consequence of a wound received in\nthe expedition to San Domingo.) By the side of these men, whose\ncareers were cut short by death, we find others whose lives were\nlong and illustrious. Berthier, then an under-officer, destined to\nbecome marshal of France and minister of war, Prince of Wagram and\nNeufch\u00e2tel, etc. The Count de S\u00e9gur, general, diplomatist, historian,\nwhose son, equally distinguished and still alive, is the author of\nthe _Campaign of_ 1812, that touching recital of an eye-witness.\nMatthieu Dumas, a general, an able commissary and esteemed military\nwriter, a peer of France in 1830; Aubert-Dubayet, an inferior officer\nin the expeditionary corps, minister of war under the republic.[296]\nThe Duke de Damas, the faithful companion of the Bourbons during\ntheir exile; Charles de Lameth, equally brilliant in speech and in\naction, a member of the assembly, lieutenant-general in 1814, deputy,\nand peer of France. The Count de Vauban, aide-de-camp to the Count\nd'Artois, who fought in the army of Cond\u00e9 and of Quiberon; the Duke\nde Castries, who died in 1842, a peer of France, etc.\n\nOn the 9th of July 1780, after a voyage of sixty-nine days, America\nwas signalled by the French squadron. Nevertheless, the disembarkment\ndid not take place at Newport, Rhode Island, for some days after.\n\n    \"On the 12th, the troops had not yet landed; there had even\n    been an express prohibition against their going ashore; and\n    I had not permission to do so until four o'clock in the\n    afternoon. I then landed at Newport. This town is small and\n    pretty; the streets are straight, and the houses, though for\n    the most part built of wood, make a good appearance. There was\n    an illumination in the evening. A citizen invited me to his\n    house and treated me well. I there took tea, which was served\n    by the daughter of my host.\"\n\nThe daily business and special occupations of a commissary as well\nas the incidents of a campaign life, date from this day for M.\nBlanchard. In an army in active service, the position of a commissary\naffords him an opportunity, if he is so inclined, to carefully\nobserve, if not military operations, at least the strange country\nto which the war has brought him. After his immediate duties, he\nshould acquaint himself with its resources, and have relations\nwith the population, be they friendly or otherwise, of every kind.\nHence arises a great variety of impressions and remarks which we\naccordingly find in this journal.\n\nA short time after landing, M. Blanchard was sent to the assembly\nin Boston, to ask the immediate assistance of the provincial troops\nin case of an attack upon Rhode Island by the English, which they\nanticipated. A German dragoon in the American service, with whom\nhe was obliged to converse in Latin, acted as his guide. Boston,\nwith its Presbyterian population descended from some of Cromwell's\nfollowers who had emigrated to America, was still the active head of\nthe revolution. M. Blanchard met there some of the remarkable men\nconnected with it: Dr. Cooper, John Adams, and Hancock. He describes\nthe general appearance of the city which reminded him of Angers.\nHe met among the inhabitants of Boston two who bore the same name\nas himself; they were the descendants of refugees driven from this\ncountry by the revocation of the edict of Nantes, and who in less\nthan a century had become completely American.\n\nThe expedition to America lasted from July, 1780, to December,\n1782, a period of two years and a half, and during that interval it\nseems to us that comparatively little was done. Certainly in those\ndays they did not move so fast as now, and no one appeared to be in\na hurry; it was reserved for our revolution to give a quickening\nimpulse to the world.\n\nThe corps of five thousand men under General Rochambeau had, when\nthey landed in America, no less than eight hundred on the sick-list;\na frightful number, being nearly one fifth of the effective force.\nThe length of the voyage, and the bad quality of the food on\nshipboard, were the causes of this. We learn, however, from another\nstatement of a similar kind made by M. Blanchard, that such a\nproportion on the sick-list after a sea voyage was by no means\nunusual. The first thing to be done was to restore the health of\nthe army, and for that purpose it remained a whole year inactive\nat Rhode Island, if we except the sailing of an expedition with a\nparty on board intended for land-service, which was the occasion of\na naval engagement in Chesapeake Bay. Finally the army moved from\nits quarters to effect a junction with Washington and La Fayette,\nand, supported by the flotilla of M. de Grasse, commander of the\nsquadron, who landed an additional body of three thousand men, they\nproceeded in concert to invest Yorktown, where Cornwallis, the\nEnglish commander, was besieged, and not long after was forced to\ncapitulate.[297] The small French army passed its second winter in\nAmerica, in the State of Virginia, in the vicinity of Yorktown. In\n1782, it returned northward, threatened New York, the last place of\nwhich the English held possession, and re\u00ebmbarked at the close of\n1782.\n\nSuch is the framework to the descriptive reminiscences of M.\nBlanchard. Those two long marches from north to south, and again from\nsouth to north, gave him particular facilities for observing the\ncountry. Sometimes with the army, oftener alone, and going in advance\nto make preparations for the sick and the commissariat of the army--a\ndouble duty with which he was charged--he visited the chief cities of\nthe United States, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Hartford, Fredericksburg,\nWilliamsburg, Wilmington, Alexandria, Providence, etc. Philadelphia,\nthen the seat of Congress, counted at that time thirty-five thousand\ninhabitants; it has now seven hundred thousand. Every village, every\nstation passed through, is recorded and described by M. Blanchard;\nfrequently they are but the small beginnings of what are now great\nand flourishing cities. These pictures of other times extracted from\nthe note-book of a French officer, the rude attempts at agriculture,\nimprovements then in their infancy, the plantations, as they then\nexisted, and roads and public works just laid out but incomplete,\npresent the contrast of what existed then with what is to be seen\nto-day, and give us an idea of the immense progress that has been\nmade in the interval. There is also for the American reader a\nparticular interest attached to the names given of several families\nwith whom he merely lodged, or whose hospitality was pressed upon\nhim, and whose great-grandchildren perhaps still reside in the same\nplaces.[298] When our troops marched on Yorktown, they traversed that\nportion of Virginia so often the scene of conflict in the late civil\nwar; and in this recital, which seems to treat of times and events\nlong since gone by, we meet with many names of localities common to\nboth wars. There were, even at this time, indications of different\ntendencies on the part of the populations of the North and South, and\nthe following extract from the journal makes allusion to this in very\nstriking terms:\n\n    \"The inhabitants of these southern provinces are very different\n    from those of the North, who, as I have already said, cultivate\n    their own lands. In the South, they have negro slaves whom\n    they compel to work, while they themselves lead an idle life,\n    chiefly occupied with the pleasures of the table. In general,\n    neither as to morality nor honesty can they compare with the\n    Americans of the North, and in some sort the North and South\n    represent two different races.\"\n\nExpeditions sent out for provisions, wood, and forage; transports\nfor the troops; difficulties arising from want of roads and bridges,\nand the depreciation of American paper money; remarks on the food,\nthe furniture, the price of articles, the fuel, (they had great wood\nfires,) the quality of the soil and state of cultivation; frequent\naccidental meetings with refugees from the edict of Nantes, (not far\nfrom New York there was a village built entirely by refugees from\nRochelle, called New Rochelle, which a number of our officers went to\nsee;) such are the usual matters treated of in his journal, on which\nin a few words he frequently throws much light, and makes his journal\ninteresting to those who take pleasure in such details. Agriculture\nand the aspects of nature are among the subjects that most occupied\nthe attention of M. Blanchard: he does not omit to name the plants\nand shrubs, both such as reminded him of France, and such as were\ntill then unknown to him. This life of movement and activity seemed\nto be his delight. On one occasion, he explored a large portion of\nthe forest to find the most suitable place for cutting down winter\nfuel for the army, and superintended the work himself. \"I love the\nwoods,\" says he, \"I was there in some sort alone, far from the world.\nI rode on horseback, and led the life of a man who dwelt upon his\nown estate.\" That expression of feeling recurs more than once in\nhis journal, and mingles with some natural observations, like the\nfollowing:\n\n    \"To-day, after dinner, while walking as usual alone in the\n    woods, (not far from Baltimore,) I saw a humming-bird. I knew\n    such birds were to be found in North America, and some had\n    already seen them; but this was the first I met with. I easily\n    recognized it from the description given of it. Its small size,\n    its swiftness on the wing, its beak, and the brilliancy of its\n    colors are remarkable. It makes a humming noise with its wings\n    while flying. At first one might imagine that he had met the\n    insect called the _demoiselle_ in some provinces of France. It\n    is no larger; it has also a peculiarity of stopping suddenly\n    without beating its wings. I saw it rest upon a shrub very\n    close to me; after that, I had the pleasure of observing it for\n    a long time.\"\n\nAll the documents in reference to the war in America agree in stating\nthat the relations of our troops with the army and population of\nthe United States were excellent, and that the discipline of the\nauxiliary corps was admirable; every one in fact seems to have\ncarried away the most favorable impressions of the expedition. The\nuniversal enthusiasm which gave rise in France to this expedition\nstill lasted; the Americans were everywhere popular, and the new\nideas which prepared the way for our revolution led our countrymen\nto look with interest and partiality on institutions, manners,\nand characteristics so different from ours. We find this bias, so\ngeneral at the time, in the journal of M. Blanchard, but still\nwithout leading him into exaggeration, and with some of those slight\ncriticisms that a regard to truth made necessary.\n\nAt that period, the American character, if well examined,\nforeshadowed all that it has become since; but the manners were still\nvery different, and contrast singularly with those of Americans of\nto-day. M. Blanchard, brought into daily intercourse with their\nancestors, says of them that they are \"slow, distrustful, and wanting\nin decision of character.\" In another place he speaks of them as\nspending a great portion of the day at table, even in the cities of\nthe North.\n\n    \"As they have little occupation, and seldom go out during\n    winter, but pass their days by the fireside, and by the side of\n    their wives, without reading or any employment, it is a great\n    distraction, a remedy against _ennui_, to eat so frequently.\"\n\n\"Oh! we have changed all that,\" will be the answer of the Americans\nof 1869.\n\nTheir morals were singularly pure, and it is on that basis that\nliberty grew to its present greatness. The journal speaks of but\none woman in an important city, who was talked of for her levity\nof conduct, and she was a European. Here and there throughout the\njournal we find allusion to young American girls, already possessed\nof that liberty and that queenly dignity, founded on universal\nrespect, which have continued there to be the privilege of their sex.\nHere are two charming illustrations of the manners of that period:\n\n    \"During my stay at Boston, I dined with a young American\n    lady in whose house M. de Capellis lodged. We had made the\n    acquaintance of her sister and brother-in-law at Newport. It\n    was a singular contrast to our customs to see a young girl\n    who, at most, could not have been more than twenty years of\n    age, lodge and entertain a young man. I shall surely find an\n    opportunity of explaining the causes of this singularity.\"\n\nOn another occasion, it is the daughter of the host who comes to keep\ncompany with M. Blanchard in the room assigned to him.\n\n    \"She remained there a long time; sometimes we conversed. At\n    other times she would leave me to attend to my business,\n    and this without constraint and with a natural and innocent\n    familiarity.\"\n\nIt was the period when our eighteenth century, disgusted with the\ncorruption of the court of Louis XV. and the upper classes, indulged\nin dreams of a golden age, and a morality pure and unaffected. The\nAmericans seemed to offer the realization of this day-dream; hence\nthe success of their cause, and the universal enthusiasm in their\nfavor throughout France.\n\nThe general morality of a people who boldly founded a republic in the\nface of the old monarchies of Europe, was naturally to Frenchmen of\nthe old _r\u00e9gime_ the most interesting spectacle in the new world. The\njournal abounds in this respect with facts and significant remarks\nwritten incidentally in the course of the narrative. I shall limit\nmyself to a few quotations:\n\n    \"The inhabitants of these provinces (those of the North) are in\n    general more affable and more sprightly than those of Virginia.\n    When our soldiers come into camp, they are met by crowds of\n    women anxious to hear the music, and even to dance when they\n    find an opportunity, which sometimes happens. Afterward they\n    return home to attend to household duties, milk the cows, and\n    prepare the meal for the family. During this time the men are\n    at work cultivating the fields without any distinction or\n    inequality, all well housed and well clad. They choose from\n    among themselves those whom they wish, by reason of their\n    merit or consideration, to be captains of the militia or\n    deputies to Congress. At East Hartford, I was lodged in a very\n    excellent house furnished with order and good taste. I had a\n    bed as elegant in appearance as any to be found in our best\n    country houses in France. The house belonged to the widow of a\n    merchant who had two very handsome and very modest girls; one\n    of these was affianced to a shoemaker, the owner also of a very\n    beautiful house. I have often made this remark, but I cannot\n    help repeating it; the greatest equality prevails in these\n    Northern States. All the husbandmen have farms of their own;\n    there is no one who does not know how to read and write, and\n    there are no poor to be met with. This is as it should be in\n    all the states.\"\n\n    \"NOTE.--It was in 1782 I made those reflections. I did not\n    think that ten years after I should see the same equality\n    established in France.\"[299]\n\nM. Blanchard remarks everywhere this equality in education, and\na high standard of manners accompanied by dignity and elegant\nrefinement. One day, having negotiated for the transport of some wood\nwith a rich proprietor, a man of position in society, and brother\nof the celebrated American General Green, he saw him afterward come\nup driving his own wagons. He mentions the fact on his journal that\nevening, adding this exclamation, \"Such are the customs of America!\"\n\nIn general, the towns, villages, and country houses strike him as\n\n    \"Possessing a something indescribably becoming that pleases\n    one. Instead of tapestry, the walls are papered; and the\n    effect is pleasing to the eye. The houses are, almost without\n    exception, well-built, and kept remarkably clean, whether they\n    chance to belong to a farmer or an artisan, a merchant or a\n    general. Their education is pretty nearly the same, so that\n    a mechanic is often sent as a deputy to the assembly where\n    no distinction is made; there are no separate orders. I have\n    already said that all the inhabitants of the country cultivated\n    their own fields; they work themselves on their farms, and\n    drive their cattle. This kind of life, this pleasing equality,\n    possesses a charm for every thinking being.\"\n\nHere we recognize the language of the reign of Louis XVI., an echo of\nJean-Jacques and Bernardin de Saint-Pierre.\n\nWe have theorized on equality, and often lulled ourselves with\nchimerical dreams regarding it; but we find that a hundred years ago\nthe Americans had practically realized it by adopting as a basis the\nparticipation of all citizens in the benefits of instruction and\neducation, and the respect paid to all honorable labor.\n\nSo much for equality. We pass on to some facts of practical liberty.\n\nWhile the French corps was passing through the little town of\nCrampond, an American asked a very high indemnity for some\ndepredations committed by the troops on his property. This claim was\ntaken into consideration; but without waiting for a decision, the\nAmerican carried his complaint before the judge of his district,\nwho, according to law, could not refuse to send an officer to arrest\nthe commander of the French troops. This officer, in accordance with\nthe legal custom, put his hand, with many apologies, however, on the\nshoulder of General de Rochambeau, in the presence of the troops.\nAll the officers present were indignant, and wished to interfere;\nbut General de Rochambeau said he would submit to the laws of the\ncountry; and he was dismissed on giving bail. This anecdote, related\nby Rochambeau himself, and by La Fayette, in their memoirs, is also\nmentioned by M. Blanchard, with the additional circumstance that he\n(M. Blanchard) found himself, a few days after, quartered on the\nsame officer of the law to whom the mission of arresting the French\ncommander-in-chief had been intrusted.\n\nA Masonic procession is described as follows:\n\n    \"It was St. John's day, a great day with the Free-Masons, and\n    they held a meeting at Providence. It was announced in the\n    public papers; for these kinds of societies are authorized\n    here. I met these Free-Masons in the streets, formed in ranks\n    and marching two by two, holding each other by the hand, all\n    wearing their aprons, and preceded by men carrying long rods.\n    The one who closed the procession, and who appeared to be the\n    chief, had two brothers by his side, and all three had ribbons\n    round their necks, as ecclesiastics do when they wear the\n    _cordon bleu_.\"\n\nWhat conclusion must we draw from these facts? That it would seem\nthat republican manners had been anterior in the United States to the\nconstitution itself. The laws of Congress have only ratified, so to\nspeak, that which already existed.\n\nGeneral Washington frequently appears in the recital of M. Blanchard,\nwho sometimes had personal relations with him. Even at that time, in\nthe eyes of all who knew him, the commander-in-chief of the American\ntroops was a great man. No one doubted that this judgment of his\ncontemporaries would be ratified by posterity. At the close of the\nfirst interview of our generals with Washington, M. Blanchard writes:\n\n    \"A gracious and noble air, broad and upright views, the art\n    of making himself beloved--these points in his character were\n    observed by all of us who saw him. It is his extraordinary\n    ability that has defended the liberty of America, and if she\n    one day enjoys freedom, it will be to him she will owe it.\"\n\n    In a note; \"I wrote the above in 1780. The Americans are\n    indebted for their success to the courage of Washington, to his\n    love for his country, and to his prudence. He never committed\n    an error, and was never discouraged. In the midst of successes\n    as well as in reverses, he was ever calm and undisturbed,\n    always self-possessed, and his personal qualities have kept\n    more soldiers in the American army, and procured more adherents\n    to the cause of liberty, than the enactments of Congress.\"\n\nThere is, I think, something to blame in this judgment, where there\nis evidently a tendency to personify a cause in a single man--a\ntendency so prevalent among us.\n\nAn American dinner in the tent of Washington is thus described:\n\n    \"On the 29th, (June, 1781,) I mounted my horse to look at the\n    barracks in which an American regiment had been quartered\n    during the winter at Fishkill Landing. My intention was\n    to establish a hospital there. On the way I met General\n    Washington, who, having recognized me, stopped and invited\n    me to dine with him that day at three o'clock. I went. There\n    were twenty-five covers laid. The guests were officers of his\n    army, besides the lady of the house in which the general was\n    stopping. We dined in a tent. The general placed me beside him;\n    one of the aides-de-camp did the honors. The dinner was served\n    in the American style, and every thing was in abundance. There\n    were vegetables, roast-beef, lamb, chicken, salad, pudding, and\n    a pie--a kind of tart very much in use in England and among the\n    Americans; and all was served together. They gave on the same\n    plate, meat, vegetables, and salad, (which was eaten without\n    dressing except vinegar.) When dinner was over, the cloth\n    being removed, Madeira wine was passed round, and they drank\n    the health of the King of France, the army, etc. The general\n    made apologies for the reception he had given me; to which I\n    replied that I had enjoyed myself very much in his company, as\n    I did everywhere in America, which I liked much better than\n    Corsica, where I had been for many years. He then told me that\n    the English papers announced that the Corsicans were about to\n    rise in rebellion. I replied that I did not believe it; that\n    the Corsicans were not dangerous, and besides, that Paoli was\n    not General Washington. The countenance of the general has\n    something grave and serious about it; but it is never severe.\n    On the contrary, it is gentle, and usually wears a pleasant\n    smile. He is affable, and talks in a familiar and lively manner\n    with his officers. I forgot to mention that at the beginning of\n    the meal a clergyman who was present asked a blessing, and at\n    its close returned thanks. I knew that General Washington was\n    accustomed to say grace himself when he had no clergyman at the\n    table, as is the custom of the heads of families in America;\n    the idea being that a general in the midst of his army is as\n    the father of a family.\"\n\nHere is a last quotation, in which we see the American general at a\nvery critical period of his career:\n\n    \"On the 24th and 25th, (August, 1781,) the troops finished\n    crossing the North River. The passage was a tedious one, as the\n    river was wide, and they were obliged to cross it on boats and\n    rafts, which had been brought together in great numbers. On the\n    25th, I went myself to the place, and saw many troops cross\n    with their baggage. General Washington was there. They had\n    arranged a sort of observatory for him, whence he superintended\n    every thing with close attention. He seemed to see in this\n    passage, in the march of our troops toward Chesapeake Bay,\n    and in our junction with M. de Grasse--he seemed, I say, to\n    see the dawn of a better destiny for America, which, at that\n    stage of the war, with her resources exhausted, had need of\n    some great success to raise her courage and her hopes. He shook\n    my hand with much emotion when he quitted us, and crossed the\n    river himself. It was about two o'clock. He immediately joined\n    his army, which marched the next morning.\n\n    \"NOTE.--The event justified his anticipations; for the taking\n    of Yorktown, after our junction with M. de Grasse, did much\n    toward bringing about peace, and the acknowledgment of American\n    independence.\"[300]\n\nAs for General Rochambeau, wisely chosen by Louis XVI. himself to\ncommand this expedition undertaken under such peculiar circumstances,\nhe made the French character appear in his own person in the\nnoblest light. The Americans, before his arrival, imbued with\nEnglish prejudices--prejudices often justified in the eighteenth\ncentury--against the light tone and reputed affectation of our young\nnobility, were prepared to find the French general (as several of\nthem afterward confessed) a mere courtier, opposed to their ideas\nand customs, and with whom their relations would be constrained, in\nconsequence of difference of character. They saw, on the contrary, a\ntype of our old France, who seemed formed on the same model as their\nown leading men, loving justice, seeking good, worthy and dignified.\n\n\"He has served well in America,\" wrote our commissary, \"and has given\na favorable idea of our nation. They pictured to themselves a French\nfop, and they found a thoughtful and dignified gentleman. '_Your\ngeneral is very self-possessed_,' said an American who dined beside\nme, and who observed the moderation with which General Rochambeau\nresponded to the numerous toasts proposed, and which were drunk as\nthey went round by all present. He has given many other proofs of\nmoderation and wisdom.\"\n\nHe had also his faults, and they are related with impartiality: a\nmistrustful character, unamiable manners, and an unpleasant temper,\nof which his officers often complained. Nevertheless, General\nRochambeau remains on the whole a fine specimen of the old army.\n\nWe meet many allusions, also, to La Fayette:\n\n    \"On that day, (September 17th, 1781, a short time before the\n    taking of Yorktown,) and the following days, I was constantly\n    with M. de La Fayette, who wished to assist me in the\n    provisioning of the troops. It would be difficult to find more\n    clearness, patience, and honesty in the discussion of business\n    matters. He reminded me of Scipio Africanus in Spain, equally\n    young and modest, and with the reputation already of an able\n    general; for his recent campaign, in which, with inferior\n    forces, he maintained himself against Cornwallis, has brought\n    him much glory, and justly.\"\n\nIf America and the Americans of the war of independence constitute\nthe chief interest of this journal, whatever relates to the\norganization of our troops at that time, as well as to their spirit\nand military customs, is not the less deserving of attention.\n\nIn this \"_memento_\" of an expeditionary army corps, there naturally\nappear, in the course of the recital, the shortcomings of the past,\nand in contrast the progress since made--for instance, in the\n_materiel_ and weapons of war. It was necessary, at that time, to\nerect the baking-houses in the neighborhood of the encampments; and\nwhen the army advanced, men were sent to establish them ahead. But\nthey did not march very rapidly in those days.\n\nThere was a certain want of discipline among our soldiers, and a\ncarelessness on this point in the officers, which shock our modern\nideas; and yet the army corps of General Rochambeau, which was\ncomposed of picked troops, was cited for its exemplary conduct\nat that period. The Marquis de Custine,[301] then colonel of a\nregiment, having allowed himself, in a fit of passion, to make use of\nintemperate language toward one of his officers, the latter committed\nsuicide. The news spread at the moment of parade, when M. de Custine\nwas hooted, insulted, and his life threatened by his soldiers.\n\"Unless some officers had interfered, worse would have happened to\nhim,\" says M. Blanchard. It does not appear that any punishment\nwas inflicted for this serious insubordination. It would seem as\nif a disturbance of this kind did not cause much uneasiness to the\ncommander-in-chief.\n\nThe distinctions between the officers were less marked than at\npresent. The military spirit was not then what it has since become,\nand, in truth, war was a less serious matter at that time than it is\nnow.\n\nWe might mention, also, the punishments of the past, and thus mark\nthe changes that have since been made. A French soldier struck an\nofficer with his sword. He attempted to kill himself afterward, but\nwas taken, tried, and condemned to death. What kind of death? His\nhand was cut off, and he was then hanged. Some years have elapsed\nsince 1789!\n\nThese soldiers of Rochambeau are of our race and blood. They are our\ngreat-grandfathers. Nevertheless, how widely the French army of that\nperiod, which is so near and so far at the same time, differs from\nour present army in its _esprit_, its conduct, and its habits!\n\nWe said in the beginning that the history of the French intervention\nhad not been written by any contemporary historian. If one were to\nappear to-day who would treat fully this subject, hitherto so much\nneglected, we should have lost nothing by the delay. Indeed, after\nnearly a century of the greatest changes, the moment would doubtless\nbe excellent to treat this important episode of our military and\npolitical history, and compose a work based on authentic documents,\nwhich would have at each step the interest of thrilling contrasts.\nThe author would draw a parallel between the military organization\nof the expedition of 1781 and of one of the present day of equal\nimportance. The means of action, the expenses, and the general way\nof doing things, the improvements of every kind, would be compared,\nand give rise to curious and useful observations. But above all, we\nwould see in this retrospective view the dawning of a nation which\nhas since developed to a degree which has no parallel, when we\nconsider the shortness of the time. A century has not yet elapsed,\nand these three millions of rebellious English colonists have become\nthe forty millions of Americans who hold so important a place in the\nworld of to-day. Finally, the author would endeavor to depict the\nextraordinary part assigned to this nation toward whose foundation we\ncontributed, and of which we might be truly called the god-parents.\nHe would show its tendencies, its work, its future. Has not, in fact,\nthe birth of the United States, even to the dullest mind, become an\nhistorical fact of equal importance with the French Revolution? In\nan important document of recent date, (the diplomatic circular of M.\nde La Valette, of September 16th, 1866,) appear the following words,\nwhich deserve attention:\n\n    \"While the old populations of this continent, in their confined\n    territories, increase with measured slowness, the republic\n    of the United States may, before a century, number a hundred\n    millions of men.\"\n\nSome will say that the independence of the United States was a\nnecessity, and that it would have been accomplished without any\nassistance from France. In the course of time, very likely. But if\nFrance had not come forward when she did, with men and money, we can\nreadily believe that the new state would have fallen again, for some\ntime to come, under the yoke of the mother country. As a consequence,\nthe development of this people, which has been owing largely to the\nprinciples of the American constitution, would have been greatly\nretarded, and the United States would not be to-day at that point\nwhere we now behold her.\n\nBe this as it may, it is curious to see the old French monarchy\nlending its aid to the birth of a society most opposed to its\nprinciples and traditions. This arises from the fact that all unite\nto aid a cause when its hour has come. However, Bourbon royalty,\ncarried away by the national sentiment, performed then a wise and\ngenerous act of the highest importance, the remembrance of which will\nnever be effaced on either side of the Atlantic.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[290] Thus designated in the royal almanacs from 1762 to 1768. His\nsuccessor in the office of general secretary to the \"Swiss Grisons\"\nwas the Abb\u00e9 Barth\u00e9lemy, author of _Le Jeune Anacharsis_.\n\n[291] These expressions are copied from the letter of General\nBerruyer, \"Gouverneur des Invalides,\" announcing to the minister the\ndeath of the commissary.\n\n[292] Claude Blanchard had a son who was himself a commissary, and\nwho died recently, at the age of ninety, at La Fl\u00e8che, (Sarthe.) The\nwriter of this review is a great-grandson of Claude Blanchard.\n\n[293] The treaty of Paris (1763) had deprived France of Canada and\nLouisiana.\n\n[294] The only contemporary history is the Abb\u00e9 de Longchamp's\n_Histoire de la Derni\u00e8re Guerre_, in three volumes.\n\n[295] This first expedition comprised five thousand men; it was\nfollowed a year afterward, by a second corps of three thousand,\nbrought from the West-Indies, but which remained only a short time in\nAmerica. They were commanded by MM. de Saint-Simon and d'Autichamp.\n\n[296] Duportail, camp-marshal, who was minister of war for some time\ntoward the end of 1790, went through the American campaign as a\nvolunteer in the service of the United States.\n\n[297] Cornwallis, a skilful general, though unfortunate on this\noccasion, was highly esteemed by Napoleon I.\n\n[298] \"We quartered with the Americans, but we asked nothing from\nthem but shelter. Each officer brought with him his provisions and\ncooking utensils, his bed and bedding, and we occasioned no expense\nwhatever to our hosts. I had for my use two wagons or covered\nconveyances drawn by good horses, and I had all I stood in need of.\"\n\n[299] Does not this remark, written in the darkest period of the\nReign of Terror, and under danger of death, indicate the most\nprofound convictions? A very tragical equality! and one that brought\nM. Blanchard and the royal family together under circumstances\ndeserving of notice. On the 10th of August, when Louis XVI. and his\nfamily sought refuge in the hall of the Legislative Assembly, they\nwere kept with their suite for many hours in a small apartment, and\nwhen the dauphin, who afterward perished in the Temple, was in danger\nof being stifled with heat, he was let down from the chamber into the\nhall, and received upon the knees of Deputy Blanchard, who held him\nthere for a long time.\n\n[300] The preliminaries of this peace, which recognized the existence\nof a new nation, were signed the 10th of January, 1783. M. Blanchard\nreceived the news the following March at Porto-Cabello, New Spain,\nwhere the fleet which had brought our troops with a view to an\nexpedition against the English Antilles, was lying at this moment.\n\"The assurance of this peace caused me great joy, both because I am a\ncitizen, and because I saw in it the termination of my anxieties in\nregard to my family. The news was received with enthusiastic joy by\nall, with the exception of some few ambitious men who thought only of\nthemselves and their own fortunes.\"\n\n[301] What has become of the journal of M. de Custine, of which the\nmanuscript of M. Blanchard makes mention in the following passage?\n\"To-day, M. de Custine, who has just been travelling into the\ninterior of America, showed me his journal and the result of his\nobservations, which appear to me wise and liberal.\" We have found no\nother trace of the Memoirs of General de Custine on the campaign in\nAmerica.\n\n\n\n\nTHE EMIGRANT.\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\n\"Willy, Willy darlin'! Rise, agra, rise; day is breakin', and ye've\nmany a long mile afore ye this mornin'--and for many a mornin' after\nit.\"\n\nAs she spoke the last words the woman's voice trembled, and she hid\nher face in the bed-clothes to stifle the grief that was welling up\nin great sobbing waves from her breaking heart. As the sound of her\nvoice broke in upon his slumbers, a man rose from the bed where he\nhad thrown himself, half-dressed, a couple of hours before, and, not\nyet quite awakened to consciousness, he looked around the room in a\nbewildered way.\n\nThen he sat down on the side of the bed, and covered his eyes with\nhis hand, vainly endeavoring to hide the tears that half-blinded him.\n\nA chair stood near the bedside, and the wife drew it toward her and\nsat down, laying her head upon his knee. Very softly and tenderly he\nstroked the dark hair two or three times, then, while a great sob\nconvulsed his frame, he bent his own head till his lips touched her\nforehead. \"Willy, Willy, don't you give way,\" she said passionately,\nlooking up at him with sorrowful eyes; \"keep a brave heart, asthore;\nit's often ye'll need it where ye're goin'.\"\n\nWith a desperate effort he checked his emotion, and smiled sadly,\nstill tenderly smoothing her hair.\n\n\"Shure it's dreamin' I was, Mary,\" he said; \"and the strangest\ndream! I thought I was away in America, and walkin' in the purtiest\ngreenwood your heart ever picthured. The birds were singin' and the\ndaisies growin' as they wud be in heaven; the sky was as bright and\nas blue as our own. But through the middle of the land ran a great\nwide river, and it was between you and me. I didn't care for the\nbeauty and greenness, Mary, when I hadn't you wid me; and although\nwhere you stood wasn't half so purty a spot as where I was, it seemed\nthe most beautiful place in the world, because ye wur there. Ye were\nlongin' to cross over to me, and the children pullin' at your gown\nand pintin' to me always. Some how, it seemed to me of a sudden that\nif I stretched out my hands to ye, ye might come; and I did it; and\nye came without any fear of the wather, right through and across it,\nand I almost touched Katie with my hands, and felt her sweet breath\non my cheek. But just as ye would have set your feet on the ground\nbeside me, something came between us like a flash of fire, and ye\nwere gone, all o' ye, and I held out my hands to the empty air. And\nthen, thank God! I heard ye callin' 'Willy, Willy darlin',' and I saw\nyer own sweet face bendin' over me as I woke.\"\n\nThe wife put one arm around her husband's neck as he ceased speaking,\nand with the other smoothed back the masses of wavy brown hair that\nfell over his forehead, while she said in tones scarcely audible\nthrough her tears, \"It's nothin', nothin', alanna; shure it's a\nsin to mind dreams at all; and ye know that it's often when we're\nthroubled, we carry the throuble wid us into our sleep. It was all\nowin' to the talk we had before ye lay down of the weary, weary way\nye were goin', and leavin' us behind. But we won't feel the time\npassin' till we'll be together again, and we'll all be as happy as\nthe day is long. 'As happy as a queen;' do ye mind it, Willy, the\nsong ye wur so fond of hearin' me sing when I was a colleen and you\nthe blithest boy in the three parishes?\"\n\n\"Do I mind it, _acushla_--do I mind it? Ah! well as I mind the merry\nvoice, and the bright eye, and the light step that are gone for ever.\nGod is good, Mary, God is good; but English tyrants are cruel, and\nIrish hearts are their meat and dhrink.\"\n\n\"God _is_ good to us, Willie; better than we deserve. He's leadin' us\nto himself by hard and bitter ways; but he loves his own. He's takin'\nyou to a land of plenty, where there'll be no hard landlords nor\ntithe proctors to make yer blood boil and yer eyes flash, and me and\nthe little ones'll soon follow.\"\n\nBy this time two little girls had crept from a bed at the foot of the\nlarger one; tiny things, scarcely more than babies, either of them,\nand they stood looking wonderingly up into the faces of their father\nand mother.\n\nThe elder of the two, dark-eyed and black-haired like her mother,\nseemed, as she nestled close to her parents, to take in some\nof the sorrow of the situation; but the younger, a beautiful\nblue-eyed, fair-haired little creature, buried her curly head in the\nbed-clothes, and began to play \"peep\" with all her heart.\n\n\"May be I'm foolish, Mary,\" said her husband as he watched the\nplayful child, \"and it's ashamed I ought to be, breakin' down when\nyou're so brave; but you'll have the little ones to comfort ye, and\nI'll be all alone.\"\n\nThen with an effort he arose, and busied himself in completing the\narrangements of his dress, while his wife placed breakfast on the\ntable. It was a very poor and scantily furnished room in which the\nlittle family sat down to take their last meal together, but it was\nexquisitely clean and neat. They had known comfort and prosperity,\nand even in their poverty could be seen the traces of better days.\n\nWhen William Leyden married Mary Sullivan, \"the prettiest and\nsweetest girl in the village,\" they were unanimously voted the\nhandsomest couple that ever left the parish church as man and wife.\nAll the world seemed bright before them; they had youth, health, and\nstrength, and sorrow and pain seemed things afar off from them then;\nand they loved one another. Smile, cynic! as cynics do--but love is\nthe elixir of life, and without it any life is poor and incomplete.\n\nFor a time--a sweet, short, happy time--all went well. Then\nmisfortunes began to gather, one by one.\n\nFirst the crops failed, the cows died, and Leyden fell ill of a\nfever, and lay helpless for many months. Little by little their\nsavings dwindled into insignificance, and to crown all, the landlord\ngave them notice to vacate their farm, for which he had been offered\na higher rent.\n\nThere was but one hope and prospect for the future. Through many a\nsorrowful day and weary night the husband and wife endeavored to\ncombat the alternative, but at last they could no longer deny that\nthe only hope for days to come lay in a present parting.\n\nSo it had come to pass that Leyden was starting for America, leaving\nhis wife and children partly to the care of a well-to-do brother of\nthe former, partly to the resources she might be able to draw from\nfine sewing and embroidery, in both of which she was very skilful.\nOur story opens on the morning of his departure.\n\nIt did not take the sorrowful couple many minutes to finish their\nmorning meal. As the hour for parting approached, each strove to\nassume a semblance of cheerfulness before the other, while each read\nin the other's eyes the sad denial.\n\nSoon kind-hearted neighbors dropped in, one by one, to wish the\ntraveller God-speed, and to take a sorrowful leave of the friend from\nwhom poverty and misfortune had not estranged his more prosperous\nneighbors. For it is in adversity that the fidelity of the Irish\ncharacter manifests itself, and proves by what deep and enduring ties\nheart clings to heart.\n\nIt was not long before the car that was to convey Leyden to the\nnext town came rolling along the road. As he heard the sound of the\nwheels, he turned from the fire-place where he had been standing, and\nmotioned to a young fellow near him to carry out the heavily-strapped\nbox that contained all a thoughtful though straitened love could\nprovide for his comfort.\n\nAs though respectful of their grief, the neighbors passed from the\nroom and the husband and wife were left alone.\n\nVery quickly but tenderly the man lifted each of the children from\nthe floor, and kissed them several times.\n\nThen he turned to where his wife stood, close to him, yet not\ntouching him, as though she felt that a nearer presence would\ndestroy her well-assumed calmness. He looked at her for an instant\nyearningly, then held her away from him for another, while she buried\nher face in her hands; then with a convulsive sob he flung both\nstrong arms around her, and they wept together.\n\n\"God and his blessed mother and the angels guard ye, mavourneen,\" he\nsaid at last; \"guard ye and keep every breath of evil away till I\nhold you again. The great sea seems wider than ever, darlin', and the\ncomfort and the meetin' further and further away. You wur always dear\nto me, always the dearest; but I never thought it wud be so hard to\npart wid ye till now. Mauria, Mauria, acushla machree.\"\n\nNo answer--no wail of anguish from her woman's lips; but her woman's\nheart grew cold as death, her head leaned more heavily upon his\nshoulder, the clasp of her arms about his neck grew tighter, then\nslowly relapsed; and placing her gently upon the bed, with one long,\nlingering look he left the house.\n\nWhen Mary Leyden lifted her aching head from the pillow, kind,\nwomanly hands and compassionate voices were near to soothe and\ncomfort her; but her husband was far on his lonely journey.\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nSwiftly the emigrant ship cut the blue waves, boldly her sails wooed\nthe winds, and hearts that had been despondent at parting grew\nhopeful and buoyant as they neared the promised land.\n\nPort at last; and, with a party of his countrymen, William Leyden\nsought the far West, and before many months had elapsed, the letters\nhe dispatched to the loved ones at home contained not only assurance\nof his good fortune, but substantial tokens of the fact; and Mary\nwrote cheerfully and hopefully, ever looking forward to the time when\nthey would be reunited.\n\nFor two years our brave Irishman struggled and toiled. Sometimes\nhis heart would almost fail him when he thought of the ocean that\nintervened between him and his dearest treasures; but these sad\nthoughts were not familiar visitants, for unusual good fortune had\nattended his efforts. By the end of the second year he had cleared\nand planted several acres of rich, fruitful land, and the first\nflush of autumn saw the completion of as neat and compact a little\ndwelling as ever western pioneer could claim. Then went \"home\" the\nlast letter, glowing with hope and promise, and sending wherewith\nto defray the expenses of wife and children, who were at length to\nrejoin him in the land where he had toiled for them so hard and so\npatiently.\n\n\"My heart is so light,\" Mary wrote to him; \"my heart is so light that\nI can hardly feel myself walkin'; it seems to be flyin' I am all the\ntime. And when I think of how soon I'll be near you, of how short the\ntime till ye'll be foldin' yer arms about me, many and many's the\ntime I'm cryin' for joy. Was there ever a happier woman? And Katie\nand Mamie haven't forgotten a line o' your face or a tone of your\nvoice; ye'll not know them, Willy, they've grown so tall. My tears\nare all happy ones now, alanna; my prayers are all thankful ones,\nasthore machree.\"\n\nHow often Leyden read and reread this letter, its torn and ragged\nappearance might indicate, and as the intervening days sped by,\neach seemed longer than the last. Mary and the children were to\ncome direct from New York with a party who also expected to meet\nfriends in the West, and he felt quite easy as to their safety and\ncompanionship. But ever and anon, as the time drew near, he half\nreproached himself that he had not gone to meet them, a pleasure he\nhad only foregone on account of his scanty resources.\n\nAt last they were in St. Louis--they would be with him in three days.\nHow wearily those days dragged on. But the beautiful October morning\ndawned at last; a soft mist hung over the tree-tops, and the balmy\nbreath of the Indian summer threw a subtle perfume over the thick\nforest and its wide stretch of meadow-land beyond.\n\nIt was fifteen miles to the nearest town, and fifteen more to the\nrailway station. The earliest dawn saw William Leyden up and\nimpatient to be away. In company with one of his old neighbors, he\ntook his place in the rough wagon that was to figure so prominently\nin the \"hauling home.\" About eight o'clock they reached their first\nstopping-place, where Leyden's friend had some little business to\ntransact that would detain him a short time in the town.\n\nNot caring to accompany him, too restless to sit still in the public\nroom of the tavern, the impatient husband and father wandered into\nthe spacious yard behind the house. A young girl stood washing and\nwringing out clothes near the kitchen door. Mechanically he took\nin every feature of the place; the long, low bench over which she\nleaned; her happy, careless face; her bare, red arms and wrinkled\nhands; the white flutter of garments from the loosened line; the\ngreen grass, where here and there others lay bleaching; the broken\npump and disused trough; two or three calves munching the scattered\nherbage; in the distance a wide, illimitable stretch of prairie.\n\nHow well he remembered it all afterward!\n\nAs he stood watching her, the girl nodded smilingly and went on\nwith her work. After a while she began to hum softly to herself.\nLeyden caught the sound, and listened. \"What tune is that?\" he asked\neagerly. \"Sing it loud.\"\n\n\"Shure I dunno,\" the girl answered. \"I heard my grandmother sing it\nmany's the time in the ould counthry, and I do be croonin' it over to\nmysel' sometimes here at my washin'.\"\n\n\"Have you the words of it a', colleen?\" he inquired. \"I'd give a dale\nto hear them again. 'Tis the song my own Mary likes best; and, thanks\nbe to God! I'll hear her own sweet voice singin' it shortly. It's to\nmeet her this mornin' I'm goin'--her and the childer, all the way\nfrom Ireland; but if ye have the words of it and will sing it for me,\nI'd like to hear it.\"\n\n\"Ayeh but you're the happy man, this day!\" she replied. \"I'm not much\nof a hand at singin', but I believe I have all the words, and I'm\nshure ye're welcome to hear them as well as I can give them.\"\n\nWith a preparatory cough and a modest little blush, the girl began\nin a timid voice the familiar melody. It was a sad, dirge-like air,\nas are so many of that sad, suffering land, \"whose children weep in\nchains.\"\n\nAnd yet it was not in itself a mournful song. Ever and anon the glad\nrefrain broke forth exultingly and joyously from the monotone of the\npreceding notes.\n\nSimple as were the words, they found a welcome in the heart of the\nlistener; and unpretending as they seem written, they may find a like\nresponsive echo in the heart of the Irish reader.\n\n    \"My love he has a soft blue eye\n    With silken lashes drooping;\n    My love he has a soft blue eye\n    With silken lashes drooping.\n    Its glances are like gentle rays\n    From heaven's gates down stooping,\n    As bright as smiles of paradise, as truthful and serene.\n    And when they shine upon me, I\n    Am jewelled like a queen.\n\n    \"My love he has the fondest heart\n    That maiden e'er took pride in;\n    My love he has the fondest heart\n    That maiden e'er took pride in;\n    'Twas nurtured in that fair green land\n    His fathers lived and died in;\n    He holds us dear, his native land and me his dark Aileen;\n    And just because he loves me, I am happy as a queen.\n\n    \"My love he wraps me all around\n    With his true heart's devotion;\n    My love he wraps me all around\n    With his true heart's devotion;\n    With wealth more rare than India's gold, or all the gems of ocean.\n    He clothes me with his tenderness, the deepest ever seen,\n    And while I wear that costly robe, I'm richer than a queen.\n\n    \"Oh! kindly does he soothe me when\n    My trust is faint and low;\n    Oh! kindly does he soothe me when\n    My trust is faint and low;\n    My joy is his delight and all\n    My griefs are his, I know.\n    In the spring-time he is coming, and I count the days between;\n    For with such a royal king to rule, who would not be a queen?\"\n\nWilliam Leyden wiped the tears from his eyes as the girl concluded\nthe song.\n\n\"Thank you, dear. God bless you,\" he said, \"for singin' me Mary's\nsong!\"\n\nThe next moment he saw his friend advancing toward him, and in\nanother they had resumed their journey.\n\nNot much was said on either side as they rode along. At intervals our\nhero's heart gave a great throb, almost painful in its joy, and once\nin a while he made some casual remark; but that was all.\n\nAs they neared their destination, they noticed an unusual stir and\nexcitement in the vicinity; and as they approached the depot, they\nsaw knots of men scattered at intervals, apparently engaged in\ndiscussing some event that had recently transpired.\n\n\"There must have been a fight hereabouts, Will,\" said his friend;\n\"but as every minute will seem an hour to you now, we'll not stop to\nask questions. The train has been in half an hour by this time. I\nwonder if Mary'll know ye with that great beard?\"\n\nLeyden had no time to answer him, for at that moment a man advanced\nfrom a crowd that blocked up the road in front of them, and, checking\nthe horses, said quickly, \"Can't drive any further. Way up yonder\nblocked with the wreck.\"\n\n\"What wreck?\" exclaimed both men with a single voice. \"Haven't heard\nabout it?\" he replied. \"Down-train, this morning, met the up-train,\nbehind time--collision--cars smashed--fifty or sixty killed--as many\nwounded--terrible accident--no fault anywhere, of course.\"\n\nBut he checked his volubility at sight of the white face that\nconfronted him, and the strong, convulsive grasp that seized his\nhand. Then in a softened tone he said,\n\n\"Hope you an't expecting no one;\" and moved back a pace.\n\nThere was no answer; for William Leyden had sprung from the wagon,\ndashing like a lunatic through the group of men on the road-side,\nand in an instant had cleared the hundred yards between him and the\nstation.\n\nThe crowd that stood upon the platform made way for him as he\nadvanced; for they felt instinctively that he had come upon a\nmelancholy quest, and the man whom he had clutched violently as he\nasked, \"Where are the dead?\" pointed to the inner room, where lay the\nmangled corpses of the victims.\n\nAlas! in a few minutes after he had stepped across the threshold his\neye fell upon the corpse of a fair-haired little girl, beside whom,\none arm half thrown across the child, a woman lay, with a calm, holy\nexpression on her dead face. Just at her crushed feet, which some\nmerciful hand had covered, the body of another child was lying; but\nthe black, wavy hair had been singed, and the white forehead burned\nand scarred, and the little hands were quite disfigured.\n\nAnd they had left the dear old land for this! They had borne poverty\nand separation, and the weariness of waiting; through lingering days\nof anticipation they had traversed miles upon miles of dangerous\nocean to be dashed, on the threshold of a new life, at the portal of\nrealization, into the pitiless, fathomless abyss of eternity! Ah! no;\nrather to be gathered into the arms of a merciful God--to be folded\nclose to his heart, for ever and ever. Truly his ways are not our\nways, and who can understand them?\n\nIn a moment more the husband and father had sunk upon his knees\nbeside the lifeless group; but no words came from his lips save\n\"Mauria, Mauria avourneen, acushla machree.\" Then he would pass his\nhands caressingly over the ghastly faces, pressing tenderly and often\nthe little childish fingers in his own, and kissing the scarred and\ndisfigured forehead.\n\nHe never knew who it was that bore him away from the dreadful spot;\nwhat hands prepared his loved ones for the grave, he never knew,\nand never asked to know. He only remembered waking momentarily from\na stupor on that sad night, and seeing the benevolent face of the\npriest bending over him, and hearing something he was saying about\nCalvary and the cross, to which he replied half unconsciously, but\nwith a feeling as though there were angels near him, \"God's will be\ndone.\"\n\n\n\n\nTRANSLATED FROM THE HISTORISCH-POLITISCHE BLATTER.\n\nNICOLAUS COPERNICUS.\n\n\nThe material for the biography of this remarkable man is not very\nabundant. More than a century after his death, Gassendi published a\nlife of Copernicus in Latin; this life, however, was compiled from\nprinted sources only. A German biography, by Westphal, appeared at\nConstance in 1822. In 1856, an anonymous author in Berlin wrote\nconcerning Copernicus. Besides these we have essays by L. Prowe. Last\nof all, a life of Copernicus has appeared by Dr. Hipler; of which we\npurpose in this article to give a compendium.\n\nThere are nineteen folio volumes among the episcopal archives\nof Frauenburg, which contain the remnants of an uncommonly rich\ncorrespondence by Dantiscus, Bishop of Ermland, who was for a time\nthe ambassador of Sigismond of Poland at the court of Charles V. Rich\nas this collection still remains, it is to be regretted that the\ngreater part of it was carried off to Sweden by Gustavus Adolphus and\nhis successors, to be there divided and scattered.\n\nA portion of the fragments was collected and returned in 1833,\nupon a demand made by the Prussian government; another portion was\nsubsequently discovered by Prowe in the library of the university of\nUpsal. Through the mediation of the Prussian minister of worship,\nthis collection was put at the disposal of Dr. Hipler. In both\ncollections, that of Frauenburg and that of Upsal, very interesting\nessays on Copernicus are contained. Of these Dr. Hipler has made good\nuse, and thereby elucidated the history of the celebrated canon.\nAccording to Hipler's researches, the life of Copernicus may be\nsummed up as follows:\n\nNicolaus Copernicus was born on the 19th of February, 1473, at\nThorn. His father, \"Niklas Copernigk,\" was a respectable merchant of\nextensive business relations. His mother Barbara was the daughter\nof Lucas Watzelrode, who left besides Barbara a son, also named\nLucas, afterward Bishop of Ermland and the chief patron of his nephew\nCopernicus. It is probable, as Hipler shows, that after receiving\nprimary instruction in the excellent schools of his native town,\nCopernicus completed his third and fourth years' course in the\nhigh-school of Kulm. In the autumn of 1491, we find him matriculated\nat the university of Cracow, which was then famous for the\nremarkable ability of its professor of mathematics, Adalbert Blar,\ncommonly known as Brudjewski.\n\nIt was in this university that the foundations were laid of the\nsubsequent success of Copernicus in astronomy. He commented already\non the writings of the great astronomers, Peurbach and Regiomonban;\nand he afterward declared that he was indebted for the principal part\nof his learning to the university of Cracow; a fact to be attributed,\nwithout doubt, to the superior instructions of Brudjewski.\n\nAt the expiration of four years, being then twenty-two, he returned\nto Prussia, where he obtained from his uncle, the bishop a canonry\nat Frauenburg in 1495. A statute of the chapter required that every\ncanon who had not received a degree in theology, jurisprudence,\nor medicine, should before taking rank enter one of the chartered\nuniversities, and there during three years apply himself without\ninterruption to one of the three afore-mentioned branches. Copernicus\nnot being a graduate, went to Bologna in 1497, and there gave\nhis attention to law. His choice of this branch of learning was\ndetermined by the circumstance of his being a member of the cathedral\nchapter, which naturally constituted the senate or council of the\nbishop, who in those days was also a temporal sovereign. We can\neasily conceive that the youthful canon would make special endeavors\nto excel in his department, that he might by the eminence of his\nknowledge be able to cast a veil, as it were, over his great youth.\nWe know nothing further concerning his legal studies, but the skill\nwith which as ambassador of the chapter and administrator of the\ndiocese he defended, both orally and by writing, the privileges of\nthe seignory of Ermland against the aggressions of the German order\nclearly proves that he had passed his three years in the study of law\nwith great success.\n\nAt Bologna, his legal studies did not hinder him from perfecting his\nmathematical and astronomical acquirements. An efficient aid to him\nfor this purpose was his intercourse with the learned Dominican,\nMaria of Ferrara. It seems that he first led Copernicus to doubt the\ntruth of the system of Ptolemy. It is possible, also, that through\nhim he became acquainted with Pythagorean and Platonic philosophy,\nand its theory regarding the motion of the earth. In 1499, Copernicus\nwas still sojourning at Bologna, where he experienced the common\nmisfortune of students, financial embarrassment. The maintenance of\nhis brother Andrew, who had followed him to that city, occasioned him\nconsiderable expense; but he was finally rescued from his troubles\nby his uncle, the bishop. In 1500, we find him at Rome lecturing\non mathematics before a large assembly of hearers. He returned to\nFrauenburg with the resolution, however, to revisit Italy at any\ncost. It was a cause of annoyance to him, as he himself discloses,\nthat the motion of the great mechanism of the world, devised for\nour sake by the greatest and most orderly of artificers, had not\nbeen more clearly and satisfactorily explained. That he might enter\nupon this investigation with a greater prospect of success, he\ndetermined to learn Greek also; for the acquisition of which, Italy\nalone at that period afforded good opportunities. He therefore, in\n1501, applied to the chapter for another leave of absence for two\nyears. At the same time his brother Andrew, who had become a canon,\nrequested permission to enter upon the three years' course prescribed\nby a statute of the chapter.\n\nCopernicus pledged himself, in case his brother's request was\ngranted, to apply during his stay in Italy to the study of medicine\nalso, that he might afterward act as physician to the chapter.\nThe chapter had previously numbered among its members a practical\nphysician, whose death had left in their midst a painful void.\nFrom this circumstance it is plain that Copernicus had not as yet\nreceived any of the higher orders; nor did he subsequently receive\nany; for the practice of medicine, including, as it necessarily did,\ndissecting and searing, constituted an irregularity which debarred\nfrom holy orders.\n\nMoreover, Mauritius, Bishop of Ermland, wrote in 1531 that his\nchapter had but one priest among its members. Copernicus had probably\nreceived minor orders only; nor does he mention himself that he ever\nreceived any others.\n\nIn 1501, with the consent of the chapter, he went to Padua, began\nthe study of medicine, made himself master of Greek, had frequent\nintercourse with Nicolaus Passara, and Nicolaus Vernia, of the\nAristotelian school of philosophy, and, after graduating in medicine,\nreturned to Frauenburg in 1505.\n\nAt the episcopal residence of Heilberg he served as private physician\nto his uncle, and took a lively interest in the extensive projects\nand undertakings of that prelate. One of these projects was the\nestablishment of a high-school at Elbing. It failed, however, in\nconsequence of the narrow prejudices of the people of that town, who\nwere opposed to having many strangers in their midst The failure of\nthis enterprise is much to be regretted; for without a doubt this\ninstitution would have afforded a fine field for the intellectual\nactivity of the great astronomer. His life under these circumstances\ncontinued to be simply that of a physician and canonist. His\nmonumental work on the revolutions of the heavenly bodies progressed\nin secret, according as the ailments of members of the chapter and\nthe lawsuits of Ermland left him leisure for such occupation.\n\nIn his case, as in the case of so many others, modesty exhibits\nitself as the characteristic of genius and true greatness. After\nthe death of his uncle, in 1512, Copernicus returned to Frauenburg,\nwhere the residence of the canons on the banks of the Haff, affording\nan unobstructed view, presented great facilities for astronomical\nobservations. Here he continued to enjoy much popularity as a\nphysician. It must, however, be admitted that a prescription and a\n_regimen sanitatis_ which we have from him show that he possessed but\nthe limited science of those times. Still he enjoyed the confidence\nof the people. His brother Andrew, who was afflicted with a species\nof leprosy, engaged much of his attention.\n\nFrom 1512 to 1523, Fabian Tettinger was Bishop of Ermland. At his\ndecease, Copernicus was chosen by the chapter as administrator. When\nhe had filled this office for nearly one year, Mauritius Ferber\nbecame bishop, and administered the diocese from 1523 to 1537. This\nprelate, who also was an invalid, placed great reliance on the\nmedical skill of the learned canon.\n\nAfter his death, Copernicus was associated with three others on the\nlist of candidates for the bishopric. But Dantiscus, Bishop of Kulm,\nthe same who has left the valuable manuscripts for the biography of\nCopernicus, was nominated. The canon lived on terms of the closest\nintimacy with this prelate.\n\nAt the very beginning of his administration, the new bishop was\nattacked by a dangerous illness; which, however, the skill of\nCopernicus succeeded so effectually in relieving, that the bishop was\nenabled to undertake a long journey as a special envoy. Copernicus\nrendered effective medical assistance to his friend also, and\nformer classmate, Tiedemann Giese, who in 1538 had been appointed\nBishop of Kulm. Tiedemann prevailed on him to dedicate his work on\nthe revolutions of the heavenly bodies to Pope Paul III.; and in\nreturn, at the instance of Copernicus, composed a work, entitled\n_Antilogicon_, against the errors of Luther; a circumstance which is\nof decisive significance as regards the religious views of the great\nastronomer. They lived together thirty years on terms of the most\nintimate friendship. Duke Albrecht also summoned him to K\u00f6nigsberg to\nthe sick-bed of one of his jurists, notwithstanding that K\u00f6nigsberg\nboasted several physicians of eminence.\n\nIn 1539, Joachim Rheticus, then twenty-six years of age, who had\nbeen for two years associated with Luther and Melancthon, came from\nWittenberg to Frauenburg to place himself under the tuition of\nCopernicus. In a work which has not been preserved, he described\nthe impression made on him by the astronomer. There is, however,\nanother production from the same pen, _Rhetici Narratio Prima_, in\nwhich much is said about Copernicus, and which is, consequently, a\nvaluable source of information for his biographer. Rheticus is full\nof admiration for his instructor. It was he who superintended the\npublication of the latter's famous work, which appeared at Nuremberg,\nin 1542. Rheticus repaired to that town expressly for this purpose.\n\nBut the last moments of the great scholar were drawing near. After\nan illness of six months, fortified with the rites of the church,\nhe died on the 24th of May, 1543, yielding up his spirit to Him \"in\nwhom is all happiness and every good,\" as he expresses himself in the\npreface of his work, the first printed copy of which was placed in\nhis hands on the day of his death.\n\nSuch is the miniature biography given by Dr. Hipler of the great\nreformer of astronomy. We would gladly have learned more about his\npolitical career, which Hipler only notices in passing. It is to be\nhoped that he will some day present us with a full-sized portrait of\nhis great countryman.\n\nDr. Hipler has, however, succeeded in establishing, on documentary\nevidence, drawn from archives, the chronology of the life of\nCopernicus, which rested before on the unsustained authority of\nGassendi. He has, likewise, exhibited in a clear light, and with that\ncertainty which results only from the study of reliable sources,\nthe education, teachers, friends, and offices of Copernicus, the\norigination of his system, and the attitude he assumed in regard to\nthe Reformation.\n\nWe have seen that his attitude was decidedly unfriendly. Hence, it\nnaturally occurred to his biographer to show how the reformers were\naffected toward Copernicus. Protestant writers generally indulge\nin the strange fancy that all the great minds of the period of the\nReformation belong to their ranks; and it is almost a subject of\nsurprise that Copernicus escaped an inscription on the monument\nraised to Luther, at Worms. No doubt, however, at Luther's feet\nwould have been an uncomfortable place for the man of whom we read\nin Luther's _Table-Talk_: \"People gave ear to an upstart astrologer,\nwho strove to show that the earth revolves, not the heavens, or the\nfirmament, the sun and moon.... But such is now the state of things.\nWhoever wishes to appear clever, must devise some new system which of\nall systems is, of course, the very best. This fool wishes to reverse\nthe entire science of astronomy. But sacred Scripture tells us that\nJoshua commanded the sun to stand still, and not the earth.\"\n\nLater on, Melancthon wrote in a work entitled, _De Initiis Doctrin\u00e6\nPhysic\u00e6_: \"The eyes are witnesses that the heavens revolve in the\nspace of twenty-four hours. But certain men, either from the love\nof novelty or to make a display of their ingenuity, have concluded\nthat the earth moves, and they maintain that neither the eighth\nsphere nor the sun revolves. Now, although these clever dreamers\nfind many ingenious things wherewith to recreate their minds, it is,\nnevertheless, a want of honesty and decency to assert such absurd\nnotions publicly, and the example is pernicious. It is the part of a\ngood mind to accept the truth as revealed by God, and to acquiesce in\nit.\"\n\nBoth reformers condemned the system of Copernicus, as opposed to the\nteaching of the sacred Scriptures.\n\nHow differently did Rome deal with the doctrine of Copernicus! From\nan entry made in the _Codex Gr\u00e6cus_, CLI., in the State Library\nof Munich, it appears that as early as 1533, Clement VII. had the\nlearned Widmanstadt to explain the system to him in the gardens of\nthe Vatican, and that he recompensed Widmanstadt for his services\nwith the gift of the Greek work above mentioned. The entry in\nthe book, setting forth these facts, was made by the hand of the\nrecipient of the gift.\n\nPaul III. accepted the dedication of the work of Copernicus. The\nsentence pronounced on Galileo by the Congregation of the Index was\nnever ratified by the pope, and was actually afterward revoked.\nThe Catholic Church has always ignored that extravagant notion of\ninspiration, so justly censured by Lessing, according to which the\nBible is to be received as a text-book even of astronomy, geography,\nand other natural sciences.\n\nThe importance of the system of Copernicus cannot be over-rated.\nIt was a bold and successful attempt to explain the mechanism of\nthe world. According to his theory, the world was no longer to be\nconsidered the centre of the universe, but merely a wandering planet\nof an inferior order. Its _r\u00f4le_ in the economy of the spheres seemed\nto be that of the lost sheep which the Good Shepherd came to find.\nThe system of Copernicus contained also a caution against trusting\nover-much to those appearances which are made known to us by the\nsenses, and against attending to the dead-letter of the Bible merely.\nHence it was calculated to exert an influence in other departments\nof science, as well as in that of astronomy. At first it met with no\nsympathy. The inhabitants of Elbing, who had refused the university\nwith which Lucas Watzelrode felt disposed to present them, were\nthe first to exhibit a burlesque play directed against Copernicus.\nThe people of Nuremberg had a medal struck, whereon were ironical\ninscriptions directed against him. Nevertheless, his discovery\ngradually won the recognition of the intelligent scientific world.\n\nIn searching the archives of Ermland, Dr. Hipler has met with two\npictures, the one of Luther, the other of Copernicus--both from the\npen of Dantiscus, the last spiritual superior of the latter--between\nwhich there exists so great a contrast that he has thought it worth\nwhile to give them to the public. As has been already observed,\nDantiscus was at one time the ambassador of Sigismond of Poland\nat the court of Charles V. He had travelled over nearly one half\nof the globe, had been at all the European courts, and also in\nAsia and Africa. He was a great admirer and patron of literary and\nscientific accomplishments, and he corresponded with many statesmen\nand men of learning, among whom were Wicel, Thomas Cranmer of\nCanterbury, Melancthon, Cochl\u00e6us, and others. In 1523, happening to\nbe in the neighborhood of Wittenberg, a desire to see Luther, rather\ninordinate, as he himself acknowledges, took possession of him.\nLuther consented to see him. The following is Dantiscus's account of\nthe interview: \"We sat down and entered upon a conversation which\nlasted four hours. I found the man witty, learned, and fluent; but\nI also noticed that he uttered scarce any thing but sarcasm and\ninvectives against the pope, the emperor, and several other princes.\nWere I to attempt to write it all down, the day would pass before\nI would have done. Luther's countenance resembles his books. His\neyes are sharp, and sparkle with the weird fire to be noticed in\nlunatics. His manner of speaking is violent, and full of irony and\nridicule. He dresses so as not to be distinguished from a courtier.\nHe seems like a first-rate boon companion. So far as holiness of life\nis concerned, which some have attributed to him, he differs not at\nall from the rest of us. Haughtiness and vanity are very apparent in\nhim; in abusing, slandering, and ridiculing he observes no moderation\nwhatever.\" The comparison between Luther and Copernicus which then\nfollows is indeed very instructive:\n\n\"It would be difficult to imagine a more decided contrast than exists\nbetween these two men, the dates of whose birth and death differ but\nby a few short years. For indeed, to say nothing of the striking\ndissimilarity in talents, disposition, and other particulars,\nwhat could be more unlike than the character and destiny of the\ngreat revolutions in the sphere of intellect which were originated\nby the gigantic powers of these men? On the one hand, we behold\nreason, through an excessively mystic tendency, enslaved to a blind\nfaith--in fact, stifled; and faith itself, as a consequence, deprived\nof its foundation, lifeless and powerless. On the other hand, we\nbehold reason in a wisely adjusted harmony with faith and science,\ntriumphing over the dead-letter of the Bible, the deceiving testimony\nof sense, and every other illegitimate influence, and thereby\nimparting firmness to faith in the suprasensible, and in all real\nauthority.\n\n\"On the one hand, we perceive the joyous acclaim with which the\nReformation was at first hailed, and the general desertion, at\nthe present day, of the principle of salvation by faith alone, a\nprinciple destructive of all church organization. On the other hand,\nwe behold the universal recognition, at the present time, of the\nsystem of Copernicus, which, at its first appearance, was assailed\nwith mockery, and branded with the title of revolutionary.\"\n\nDr. Hipler has plainly shown that Copernicus belongs to the Catholic\nranks. The question now arises, Does he belong also to Germany?\nPolitically, the bishopric of Ermland was in his time under Polish\ndominion. Nevertheless, to say nothing of the quiet, modest, and\ngenial industry which Copernicus seems to have possessed as a German\ninheritance, it is certain that not only he, but also his mother,\nwrote letters in German; and a Greek inscription in a book belonging\nto his library shows that his name was pronounced K\u00f3pernik, with the\nGerman accent. Justly, therefore, does his statue occupy a place in\nthe Walhalla of Ludwig I.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CHURCH BEYOND THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS.\n\n\nThe States and territories of the Pacific coast are, in many\nrespects, \"a land apart\" from the rest of the Union. Separated from\nthe other States by an immense tract of unsettled territory, no\ninconsiderable part of which must ever continue a desert, as well as\nby the great barrier of the Rocky Mountains, the western slope of\nthat chain presents to the new-comer an aspect not less different\nfrom the shores of the Atlantic than the latter differ from the\ncountries of Europe. The climate, with its semi-tropical division of\nwet and dry seasons, the evidently volcanic formation of its surface,\nthe huge mountain chains, with all their accessories of valleys,\nprecipices, torrents, and cataracts, which occupy most of its area,\nand the peculiar vegetation that covers its soil, all wear a foreign\nappearance to an Eastern visitor; and the people themselves, though\nforming an integral part of his own nation, are scarcely less\nstrange to his eyes. Men of races hardly known on the eastern side\nof the Rocky Mountains meet him at every step; and not only do the\ndifferent European and Asiatic races retain their national customs\nand characters much more tenaciously than the immigrant population\nof the Eastern States, but they have very considerably modified\nthe character of their American fellow-settlers. The way in which\nCalifornia, and, to a considerable degree, Oregon, were settled was\naltogether different from the usual system of colonization which has\nadded so many States to the Union, from Ohio to Nebraska, and from\nMississippi and Texas to Minnesota. The journey to the Pacific coast\nbefore the completion of the Pacific Railroad involved as complete a\nseparation from home associations, and as great a change from early\nhabits, to an American, as does the voyage across the Atlantic to\nthe European immigrant; and at its end he found himself in a country\nentirely different, both physically and socially, from all that he\nhad been previously accustomed to. The influence of the old Spanish\nsettlements, in which for years was to be found the only established\nsociety of the country, the mixture of men of all the European races\non a footing of perfect equality in the pursuit of wealth, and the\npeculiarly adventurous and uncertain nature of mining life, which\nlong formed the chief employment of the whole population, all tended\nto rub off the new-comers' national peculiarities and prejudices; and\nthe result has been the growth of a well-marked national character\namong the few hundred thousand inhabitants of the Pacific coast.\n\nAmid this cosmopolitan population the Catholic Church has taken\nfirm root, and in no other part of the country does she reckon\nas large a proportion of the people within her fold, or exercise\nmore influence over the public mind. She had preceded the march of\nAmerican enterprise and the rush of gold-seekers on the shores of\nthe Pacific; and when the pioneers of the new population pushed\ntheir way across the continent and descended the slope of the Sierra\nNevada, they found her missions already established in California.\nWhile the American Republic was yet a thing of the future, and the\nwest of the Alleghanies was still an almost untrodden wilderness,\nCatholic priests had already begun to gather into the fold of\nPeter the tribes beyond the Rocky Mountains. In the early half of\nthe eighteenth century, the Jesuit Reductions of Lower California\nwere only less famous than those of Paraguay; and to the zeal of\nthe Franciscans who succeeded the Jesuits in 1767, Upper California\nowes the introduction of Christianity and civilization. In 1769,\nor a few months more than one hundred years ago, Father Junipero\nLerra, with a company of his Franciscan brethren and a few Mexican\nsettlers, founded the mission of San Diego, the first settlement\nmade by civilized men within what is now the State of California.\nBefore that year, indeed, although the ports of Monterey and San\nDiego were well known to the Spanish navigators, no European had ever\npenetrated into the interior of California, and even the existence\nof the noble bay of San Francisco was unknown to the civilized world\nuntil it was discovered and named by the humble friars. The salvation\nof souls, the hope of making known to the Indians the doctrines of\nCatholicity, were the motives which inspired the Franciscans to\nundertake a task which had long been deemed impracticable by the\nSpanish court in spite of its anxiety to extend its dominions to\nthe north of Mexico. To raise up the despised aborigines to the\ndignity of Christian men, to show them the road to eternal happiness\nin another life, and, as a means to that end, to promote their\nwell-being in this world, such were the objects for whose attainment\nthe devoted missionaries separated themselves from their native land\nand the society of civilized men, to spend their lives among savages,\nwho often rewarded their devotion only by shedding their blood. The\nIndians of California are in every respect a much inferior race to\nthe tribes on the east of the Rocky Mountains. Many of them went\nwholly naked, they had no towns or villages, and although the country\nabounded in game, they were indifferent hunters, and depended mainly\nfor subsistence on wild berries, roots, and grasshoppers. In tribal\norganization they were little if at all superior to the Australian\nsavages, and of religious worship or morality they had scarcely\nan idea. Many of the southern tribes, especially, were fierce and\nwarlike, and belonged to a kindred race to the Apaches, who still\nset at defiance all the attempts of the United States government\nto dislodge them from Arizona. Such were the men from whom the\nFranciscans undertook to form a Christian community; and of their\nsuccess in so doing, the history of California for over sixty years\nis an irrefragable witness.\n\nIn spite of occasional outbreaks of hostility on the part of the\nIndians, and the destruction by them of a mission, the whole of the\nregion between the coast range and the ocean, as far north as the\nBay of San Francisco, was studded with such establishments before\nthe close of the century. Fifteen thousand converted Indians enjoyed\nunder the mild sway of the Franciscans a degree of prosperity almost\nunparalleled in the history of their race. The missions, which were\neighteen in number, differed in size and importance, but were all\nconducted on the same general plan. The church and the community\nbuildings, including the residence of the fathers, the store-houses\nand workshops, formed the centre of a village of Indian huts, the\ninhabitants of which were daily summoned by the church bells to\nmass, as a prelude to their labors, and again in the evening called\nback to rest by the notes of the Angelus. Religious instruction was\ngiven to all on Sundays and holidays, and to the newly converted\nand the children also. At other times during the day, the men worked\nat agricultural labor, or looked after the cattle belonging to the\nmission, and the unmarried women were employed at spinning, or\nsome other labor suited to their strength, in a building specially\nprovided for the purpose. The fathers, two or more of whom resided\nin each Reduction, were the rulers, the judges, the instructors, and\nthe directors of work of their neophytes, who held all property in\ncommon. The white population was few in number, consisting mainly of\nsmall garrisons at different posts, intended to hold the wild Indians\nin awe, and some families of settlers who were chiefly engaged in\nstock-raising. The military commandant, who resided at Monterey,\nmight be regarded as the governor of the country; but the fathers and\ntheir converts were entirely exempt from his jurisdiction, and were\nindependent of all authority subordinate to the Spanish crown. The\nmission farms usually sufficed for the support of their inhabitants,\nbut the external expenses of the communities were defrayed by a\nsubsidy from the Spanish government and the \"pious fund\" of Spain, an\nassociation very similar to the Society for the Propagation of the\nFaith.\n\nSuch was the condition of California down to the end of the Spanish\nrule; and during the whole of that period, and for several years\nafterward, the missions continued to grow in numbers and prosperity.\nThe payments of the government subsidy and the remittances from the\npious fund became indeed very uncertain and irregular during the\nstruggle of Mexico for independence; but the industrial condition\nof the missions was then such that they stood no longer in need of\nexternal aid, and indeed they were able to contribute largely to the\nsupport of the administration of the territory. The establishment\nof the Mexican Republic made for some years little change in the\ncondition of the missions of California, and the services rendered\nby the fathers to civilization were more than once acknowledged by\nthe Mexican Congress. But the mission property was too tempting a\nbait to the needy revolutionists who disputed for supreme power in\nthat ill-starred country. In 1833, a decree of Congress deprived the\nFranciscans of all authority over the missions, and placed their\nproperty in the hands of lay administrators. The Indians were to\nreceive certain portions of land, and some stock individually, and\nthe rest was to be applied to the use of the state. The results were\nsuch as might be expected from the history of similar confiscation in\nforeign lands. The fruits of sixty years' patient toil were wasted\nduring a few years of riotous plundering, in the name of state\nadministration; the cattle belonging to the missions were stolen or\nkilled; the churches and public works allowed to fall into ruin;\nthe cultivation of the soil neglected; and the unfortunate Indians,\ndeprived of their protectors, and handed over to the tender mercies\nof \"liberal\" officials, wandered away in thousands from their abodes,\nand either perished or relapsed into barbarism. The population of the\nmissions in nine years dwindled from upward of thirty to little over\nfour thousand Indians; and when their property was sold at auction in\n1845, its value had fallen from several millions to a mere nothing.\nThe native Spanish Californians, who clearly saw the fatal results\nof the overthrow of the missions to the prosperity of the country,\nmade several attempts to restore them to their former condition, but\nin vain. The constant revolutions of which Mexico was the theatre\neffectually prevented such a restoration, and the fate of the\nIndians was sealed by the political changes which shortly afterward\nthrew the country into the hands of another race and another\ngovernment. Under the American _r\u00e9gime_ they have dwindled to less\nthan one tenth of their former numbers, and, with the exception of a\ncertain number of the converts of the Franciscans, who have adopted\npartially the usages of civilized life, and become amalgamated with\nthe Spanish population, the whole race seems doomed to disappear from\nthe land.\n\nSerious, however, as was the blow which the church received from\nthe overthrow of the Franciscan missions, she did not abandon her\nhold upon California. From the date of Father Lerra's arrival in the\ncountry, a small stream of Spanish or Mexican immigration had been\nflowing into it, and building up its \"pueblos\" near, but altogether\ndistinct from, the mission establishments. The separation of the\nraces was one of the points jealously attended to by the Franciscans,\nas essential to the success of their civilizing efforts among the\nIndians; and the Indian churches and Indian cemeteries, which still\nremain in several of the missions, at a short distance from the\nSpanish churches and Spanish burying-grounds, show how far this\npolicy was carried out. The experience of centuries of mission work\nhad taught the Franciscans that free intercourse between a civilized\nand an uncivilized race invariably leads to the demoralization of\nboth, and much of their success must be ascribed to the care with\nwhich they kept their neophytes apart from the white settlements. The\nlatter, at the time of the secularization, contained a population of\nsome five or six thousand, and, including the half-civilized Indians\nwho still remained around the missions, the whole Catholic population\nprobably amounted to fifteen thousand at the epoch of the American\nconquest. For the benefit of this population, after the overthrow\nof the missions, the holy see established in 1840 the diocese of\nCalifornia, including the peninsula of Lower California within its\nboundaries.\n\nHad Upper California continued a portion of the Mexican republic,\nthere would have probably been little difference between its\necclesiastical history and that of Sonora or Chihuahua; but the\nAmerican conquest, and still more the subsequent discovery of gold\nin the Sacramento River, entirely changed the face of affairs. The\ncrowd of immigrants that flocked into the country was so great as\nto reduce the original population to comparative insignificance in\na few months. A single year sufficed to quadruple the number of\ninhabitants, and two to increase it tenfold. The new population was\nindeed a strange one. American it was in its dominant political\nelements, but fully one half of it was made up of natives of other\ncountries than the United States. Frenchmen, Spaniards, Italians,\nGermans, Scandinavians, Irish, English, Mexicans, South Americans,\nIndians, Kanakas, and Chinese all poured by thousands into the New\nEldorado, which might with equal justice be styled the modern Babel.\nSeldom has so radical a change taken place in the population of a\ncountry in so short a time, and the church, if she did not wish\nto lose the territory she had conquered with so much toil, had to\ncommence her mission work over again, and under entirely different\ncircumstances from those under which the Franciscans had begun the\nwork. A very large number of the new-comers were Catholics; but\nin the excitement of gold-seeking, the hold of religion on their\nminds had been seriously loosened, and a reckless disregard of\nall social and moral restraint pervaded the whole population. To\nrestore the sway of religion over minds that had forgotten it, to\nprovide priests, churches, schools, and all the various institutions\nof Catholic charity, for thousands of her own children, and to\nmake known her doctrines to a still larger number of those who did\nnot belong to her fold, such was the task before the church in\nCalifornia, and to its accomplishment she addressed herself almost as\nsoon as the first immigrants landed in San Francisco.\n\nA frame church, the first in California, was erected in that city\nfor the use of the Catholic miners in 1849, and, as the different\n\"camps\" sprang up through the State, other churches were rapidly\nbuilt up in the more important centres of population. The following\nyear, a new diocese was formed of the territory lately acquired by\nthe United States, and its government intrusted to the Right Reverend\nBishop (now Archbishop) Allemany, who was called to that office from\nhis Dominican convent in Kentucky. The new bishop lost no time in\nhastening to his post, and began his arduous task with rare wisdom\nand energy. The ranks of the secular clergy were largely recruited\nfrom various countries; the Jesuits, who had long been engaged in\nevangelizing the Indians of Oregon, were installed in the old mission\nof Santa Clara; a branch of the Sisters of Notre Dame was established\nin the neighboring town of San Jos\u00e9; and the Sisters of Charity took\ncharge of an orphan asylum and hospital in San Francisco.\n\nAll this had been done before the close of 1853, or in the height of\nthe excitement of the early colonization, an excitement such as it is\nhard for the sober dwellers of more settled communities to form any\nidea of. The population of California resembled an ill-disciplined\narmy rather than a well-ordered community; the immense majority\nof its members had neither families, fixed abodes, nor permanent\noccupations, and were ready to rush anywhere at the slightest rumor\nof rich \"diggings.\" The mines were the great centre of attraction to\nall, and, as the old ones were worked out or new ones discovered,\nthe entire population moved from one part of the country to another.\nTowns were built up only to be abandoned in a few months, and even\nSan Francisco itself, in spite of its unrivalled commercial position,\nmore than once was nearly deserted by its inhabitants. Fortunes were\nmade or lost in a few hours, not merely by a few bold speculators,\nbut by every class of the people; and the wild excitements which\nnow and then cause such commotion in Wall street, were constantly\nparalleled in every mining camp of California. The sudden acquisition\nof fortune was the hope of every man; and while men were thus\nuncertain about what position they might occupy on the morrow, few\ncared to settle down to the routine of domestic life. Except among\nthe Spanish Californians, scarcely any families were to be found\nin the country, and the standard of morality was such as might be\nexpected under the circumstances. Laws there were, indeed, but the\nauthorities were utterly unable to enforce them, and bullies and\nduellists settled their quarrels with arms, even on the streets\nof San Francisco, unchecked by police interference. Murderers and\nrobbers promenaded the towns unmolested, and the idea of official\nhonesty, or of seeking redress for wrongs at the hands of the law,\nwas deemed too absurd to be entertained by a sensible man. Vigilance\ncommittees, the last refuge of society seeking to save itself from\ndestruction, offered almost the only protection to persons and\nproperty that could be had in many districts. Bands of desperadoes,\nsuch as the \"hounds\" in San Francisco, and Joaquin's gang in the\nsouthern counties, openly set the law at defiance, and, in the fever\nof gold-seeking that pervaded the whole community, no force could be\nobtained to make it respected.\n\nSuch was the population of California when Bishop Allemany commenced\nhis episcopal career; and the prospect of making religion flourish\non such a soil was indeed such as might well dismay a fainter heart.\nNevertheless he addressed himself to the task, and his toils were\nnot unrewarded. Gradually but decidedly, the moral character of\nCalifornia began to improve, and the more glaring offences against\npublic decency to grow rare. The rush of immigrants slackened in\n1852, and something like settled society began to form among the\nolder residents. Of the agents which helped to bring order out of\nthe social chaos of \"'49,\" none was more powerful than the influence\nof the Catholic Church. Most of the Protestant population had thrown\noff all allegiance to any sect, and this fact, while it contributed\nto make them to a great extent regardless of the rules of morality,\nhad at least the good effect of banishing anti-Catholic prejudices\nfrom their minds. The church and her institutions were regarded with\nmuch respect by all classes in California, even at the time when\nthe Know-Nothing movement was exciting such a storm of fanaticism\nin the Eastern States. Many Americans had married Catholic wives,\nor been long settled among the Spanish Californians; the history\nof the Franciscan missionaries was well known to all, and their\ndevotedness appreciated by Catholics and Protestants alike. All\nthese causes combined to give Catholicity considerable importance\nin the public opinion, and lent immense strength to her efforts in\nbehalf of morality and religion. Catholic charities stood high in\nthe public favor; the public hospital of San Francisco, after an\nexperience of official management which swept away no small portion\nof the city property, was intrusted to the charge of the Sisters\nof Charity; Catholic schools for a long time shared in the public\nschool funds; and Catholic asylums and orphanages were liberally\naided by the public. Bishop Allemany was not slow in taking advantage\nof this favorable state of public feeling to provide his diocese\nwith Catholic institutions. New churches were erected all over the\nState; schools established wherever it was practicable; and so great\nprogress made generally that, in less than three years after his\narrival in San Francisco, it became necessary to divide his diocese.\nThe southern counties of the State, comprising most of the Spanish\nCalifornians among its inhabitants, were formed into the diocese of\nMonterey and Los Angeles in 1853. At the same time San Francisco was\nraised to the archiepiscopal rank. The membership of the Protestant\nchurches of all denominations in the State was then almost nominal,\nscarcely amounting to two per cent of the population, while the\nCatholics formed at least thirty per cent. The public, as a general\nrule, regarded the Catholic Church as _the_ church, and this feeling\nto a great extent still prevails.\n\nFor some years after the erection of the diocese of Monterey, there\nwas little increase in the population of California; indeed, owing\nto the falling off in the yield of the precious metals, and the\ndiscovery of new mines in the neighboring territories, there was\nat times a considerable decrease in its numbers; nevertheless, the\nnumber of Catholics continued to increase, owing partly to the large\nproportion of Irish among the later immigrants, and partly to the\nnatural growth of the Catholic population, which was more settled\nthan the rest of the community. A further division of the archdiocese\nof San Francisco was found necessary in 1861. The northern portion\nof the State, with the adjoining territories of Nevada and Utah,\nwas formed into the Vicariate of Marysville, which was subsequently\nraised to the rank of a bishopric, with its see at Grass Valley.\n\nSince that period no changes have been made in the episcopal\ndivisions of California; but the second order of the clergy, the\nCatholic population, Catholic institutions, and Catholic churches\nhave continued to grow in numbers. At present, the proportion of\npriests to the whole population is nearly three times greater in\nCalifornia than the average for the whole of the Union, being about\none priest to every three thousand five hundred inhabitants; while\nthroughout the United States the average does not exceed one to ten\nthousand. Nevertheless, owing to the extent of the country over\nwhich the population is scattered, and the very large proportion\nof Catholics in it, there is still a great want of more priests\nand churches, and it will doubtless be some years before it can be\nadequately supplied.\n\nIn no State of the Union have the religious orders taken deeper\nroot or thriven better than in California. The Franciscans, the\nDominicans, the Jesuits, the Vincentians, the Christian Brothers, the\nSisters of Charity, of Mercy, of Notre Dame, of the Presentation,\nof the Sacred Heart, and of the order of St. Dominic, all have\nestablishments within its boundaries.\n\nThe Franciscans, as we have seen, were the pioneers of Christianity\nin California, and, in spite of the oppression of the Mexican\ngovernment, they have never abandoned the land. A number of them\ncontinued to attend to the spiritual wants of the population, both\nSpanish and Indian, after the control of the latter had been taken\nfrom them, and the order has shared in the growth of the church since\nthe American conquest. Two of their former mission establishments are\nstill in their hands, in the diocese of Monterey, in which they have\nalso two schools.\n\nThe Vincentians have the only establishment they possess in\nCalifornia in the same diocese, where they opened a college some two\nand a half years ago, and have since conducted it with considerable\nsuccess. Los Angeles City also possesses an orphan asylum and a\nhospital, under the management of the Sisters of Charity, and there\nare several convents of nuns in different parts of the diocese.\n\nThe Jesuits were the first missionaries of California, though the\ntyrannical suppression of their order, and the barbarous exile of\nits members from the dominions of the king of Spain, prevented them\nfrom extending their spiritual conquests beyond the peninsula of\nLower California. It was not until after the American conquest that\nthey were permitted to enter Upper California; but as soon as that\nevent opened the country to them, their entry was not long delayed.\nIn 1851, several fathers of the society, who had been previously\nengaged in the Indian missions of Oregon, arrived in California, and\nwere put in possession of the old Franciscan Mission at Santa Clara,\nabout fifty miles south of San Francisco. There they founded a\ncollege, which at present ranks perhaps first among the institutions\nof learning on the Pacific coast, and is one of the largest houses\nof the order on the American continent. The crusade against the\nmonastic orders, which had been inaugurated in Italy shortly before,\nproved highly profitable to California, as a large number of Italian\nJesuits were thus obtained for Santa Clara. A second college was\nsubsequently opened in San Francisco, which has attained an equal\ndegree of prosperity with the older academy, and, in addition, the\nparishes of Santa Clara and San Jos\u00e9 are administered by the priests\nof the order. Altogether, the Jesuits number about thirty priests,\nand as many, or rather more, lay brothers in California. In the\ninternal administration of the order, California is dependent on the\nprovincial of Turin in Italy, whence most of its missionaries came,\nand has no connection with the provinces established in the Eastern\nStates. It possesses a novitiate of its own at Santa Clara, and\nonly requires a house of studies to have all the organization of a\nprovince complete in itself.\n\nThe Dominicans are also established in the archdiocese of San\nFrancisco, where they have a convent at Benicia on the Sacramento\nRiver, besides furnishing pastors to several other parishes. The\narchbishop himself is a member of the order, which well maintains in\nCalifornia its reputation for learning and strictness of discipline.\nSeveral of the Californian Dominicans, including the archbishop, are\nnatives of Spain, but the majority are Irish or Irish-Americans. The\nDominican nuns also have a convent and academy at Benicia, which\nranks deservedly high among the educational institutions of the\nState; and a free school in San Francisco, which affords instruction\nto several hundred children.\n\nThe Christian Brothers are, in point of time, the newest of the\nreligious orders in California, having only come to the State some\ntwo years ago, at the invitation of Archbishop Allemany. Their\nsystem of education is eminently adapted to the requirements of her\npeople, as is shown by the rapid success of their first college,\nwhich already numbers more than two hundred and twenty resident\nstudents. The marked success which has so far attended the efforts of\nthe brothers gives every reason to believe that they (and it may be\nadded, they alone) can solve the great problem of Catholic education\nin California, which is, how to provide Catholic common schools\nfor the children of the working-classes. Those classes there, as\neverywhere else throughout the Union, form the bulk of the Catholic\npopulation, and desire to procure for their little ones the advantage\nof schooling. If possible, they wish to obtain it from Catholic\nsources; but if this cannot be, they will, there is ground to fear,\navail themselves of the educational facilities offered by the State\nschools, even at the risk of their children's faith. As the number\nof these children must be reckoned by tens of thousands, the task of\nproviding them with suitable education is no easy one; but the object\nand spirit of the order instituted by the venerable De La Salle, and\nthe success which has attended its system of parochial schools in\nMissouri and other States, give good grounds to hope that it will\nprove equal to the work that lies before it in California, where the\ncircumstances of the country are peculiarly favorable to the growth\nof Catholic institutions. Nowhere else has anti-Catholic bigotry less\npower in the government, or is public opinion more favorable to the\nchurch; and though the infidel common-school system finds strong\nsupport in a numerous class, yet we believe that in no part of the\nUnion can the battle for religious education be fought out under\nmore favorable auspices. The urgent need that exists for Catholic\nschools at present, may be judged of from the fact that while the\ndifferent colleges and boarding-schools under the management of the\nJesuits, Franciscans, Christian Brothers, and Vincentians, provide\neducation for about a thousand boys, the Catholic common schools\nthroughout the State contain a number scarcely greater, or less than\na tenth of their due proportion. Female education is better provided\nfor in this respect. The Presentation and Dominican Sisters, and\nthe Sisters of Charity and Mercy, have about four thousand pupils\nin their free schools in San Francisco, and there are also several\nsimilar establishments in different parts of the State; but even\nthese are inadequate to the wants of the Catholic population, and in\nCalifornia, as in the Eastern States, the problem of how to provide\nschooling for the children of the poor is the most serious and\ndifficult one that the church has to solve.\n\nCalifornia, in proportion to its population, is rich in institutions\nfor the relief of suffering and distress. The male and female orphan\nasylums in the dioceses of San Francisco, Grass Valley, and Monterey\nmaintain about six hundred of these bereaved little ones. The Sisters\nof Mercy and Charity have each a general hospital under their charge\nin San Francisco, where the latter have also a foundling hospital.\nThey have also a hospital in Los Angeles, and the Sisters of Mercy\nhave a Magdalen asylum in San Francisco. Altogether, the number of\nreligious, of both sexes, engaged in works of instruction or charity\nin California, approaches three hundred, and this in a population of\nlittle over half a million.\n\nReference has already been made to the variety of races that forms so\npeculiar a feature in the Californian population. It may not be amiss\nto devote a few words to each separately, especially with regard to\ntheir relations with the church.\n\nAs the original settlers of the country, the Spanish element deserves\nto be mentioned first, although no longer occupying the chief place\nin political or numerical importance. The Spanish Californians are\nmostly descended from a few families, chiefly Europeans, who settled\nin the country in the palmy days of the missions, and whose posterity\nhave increased in the course of a century to a population of several\nthousand. The prevalence of a few family names among them is quite as\nremarkable as in certain districts of Ireland and Scotland, where a\nsingle sept name is borne by almost all the inhabitants of a parish\nor barony; and nearly all the more wealthy families are connected\nwith one another by the ties of blood or marriage. As a general\nrule, they have less intermixture of Indian blood than the southern\nMexicans, though such of the mission Indians as have survived the\noverthrow of their protectors regard themselves as Spaniards, and are\nso styled by the rest of the population. Some of these Indians occupy\nrespectable positions in society, and one at least, Se\u00f1or Dominguez,\nwas a member of the convention which drew up the State constitution\nof California. The Spanish Californians are generally hospitable and\ngenerous, and, though imperfectly acquainted with the refinements\nof civilization, they display much of the old Spanish politeness\nin their dealings with each other and with strangers. They retain\nthe Spanish taste for music and dancing, and, we are sorry to say,\nfor bull-fights and games of chance; in Los Angeles and the other\nsouthern counties, all the scenes of the life of Leon or Castile may\nstill be witnessed. Cattle-raising forms their chief occupation,\nand in the management of stock they display a good deal of skill\nand energy; but their inexperience in the ways of modern life, and\ntheir ignorance of American law, have gradually deprived them of the\nownership of most of the lands they held at the discovery of the\ngold \"placers.\" Many of them sold their property at ridiculously\nlow prices, others were deprived of them by the operation of the\nland tax, which was entirely new to their ideas; while the distaste\nfor settled industry and the improvident habits engendered by their\nformer mode of life unfitted them for competing in other pursuits\nwith the enterprise of the new-comers. The generation which has grown\nup since the American conquest, however, displays a much greater\nspirit of enterprise than its fathers have shown, and promises to\nplay a more important part in the country. Politically and socially,\nthe Spanish Californians enjoy a good deal of consideration; some\nof them usually occupy seats in the State Legislature, and on the\njudicial bench; the Spanish language is used as well as the English\nin legal documents, and the acts of the Legislature; and one of the\nhigher State offices is generally filled by a Spaniard.\n\nThere is also a considerable Spanish-American population, chiefly\nMexicans and Chilenos, in the Pacific States. Most of them are\nengaged in mining or stock-raising; but a considerable number are\nengaged in business, in which several of them occupy prominent\npositions. The Chilenos are generally possessed of at least the\nrudiments of schooling, and are tolerably well organized for mutual\naid; but the Mexicans, owing to the political condition of their\ncountry, are much behind them in both these respects. Altogether, the\npopulation of California of Spanish origin must number from forty to\nfifty thousand.\n\nClosely connected with the Spanish population are the Portuguese,\nwho, of late years, have begun to immigrate to California in\nconsiderable numbers, and now number several thousands there. The\nmajority of them are engaged in farming or gardening. They are,\nas a class, sober, industrious, and peaceable. They are settled\nprincipally in the counties around the Bay of San Francisco, and very\nfew of them are to be found in the city itself.\n\nThe American population, as it is customary in California to style\nthe natives of the other States of the Union, has been drawn in not\nvery unequal proportions from the North and South, and its character\npartakes of the peculiarities of both sections, with a general\nspirit of recklessness and profusion that is peculiarly its own. The\npublic opinion of California is much more liberal and tolerant than\nthat of the Eastern States, and it is rarely indeed that Catholics\nhave to complain of any open display of offensive bigotry on the\npart of any influential portion of their fellow-citizens. On one\noccasion, about a year ago, a leading evening paper of San Francisco\nattempted to raise an anti-Catholic cry during the excitement of a\npolitical campaign; but the attempt met with such reprobation from\nall parties, that the proprietors found it expedient to apologize for\nit in the course of a day or two as best they could. The great foe\nof the church in California is not Protestantism, but unbelief; and\nalthough the latter is in its nature as full of bitterness against\nher as the former, yet its champions find it necessary to assume\nliberality, even if they do not feel it, in obedience to public\nsentiment. Some of the Protestant sects are indeed outspoken in their\nbigotry, but their power is very trifling, as the entire Protestant\nchurch membership does not amount to five per cent of the population,\nand not one sixth of the whole people comes under the influence of\nany Protestant denomination whatsoever. The number of converts in\nCalifornia and Oregon is considerable, including several individuals\nof high political and literary eminence, and there are also many\nAmerican Catholics, chiefly from Kentucky, Maryland, and Missouri,\nscattered through the State.\n\nThe Irish are the most numerous of the European nationalities\nrepresented in the Californian population, and enjoy a much greater\ndegree of prosperity than their countrymen in any other State of\nthe Union. A much larger proportion of their numbers are engaged in\nfarming than is the case in the Eastern States, and the advantages\narising from such an employment of their labor are evident to the\ndullest eye. Much of the cultivated land of the State is in their\npossession, and some of them are among its largest land-owners. The\ncity population also enjoys a greater degree of comfort than the\nsame class in New York or Boston. Three of the savings-banks of San\nFrancisco, representing nearly half the capital of the entire number\nof such institutions in that city, are under Irish control, and\nIrishmen are also among the most successful merchants, bankers, and\nmanufacturers of California. The late mayor of San Francisco, and\nan ex-governor of the State are Irishmen and Catholics, and three\nIrish-Americans in succession have filled the office of United\nStates senator, one of whom still represents the State in Washington.\nWe are not able to give the precise amount of the Irish population in\nCalifornia; but, including the children of Irish parents, it cannot\nbe less than a fourth of the whole. It is needless to state that the\nimmense majority of the Irish in California are Catholics, and that\ntheir zeal for every thing pertaining to religion forms a marked\ncontrast to the indifference of their non-Catholic fellow-citizens.\n\nThe Germans come next to the Irish in importance, probably amounting\nto two thirds of their number. They are more blended with the rest\nof the population than in the Eastern States, and there is only one\ndistinctively German settlement in California, namely, the town\nof Anaheim on the southern coast. About one fourth of them are\nCatholics, but they only possess one German church in the state,\nforming, in this respect, a strong contrast to their countrymen\nin the Mississippi Valley and on the Atlantic seaboard. Of the\nnon-Catholic Germans, the Jews form a considerable and very wealthy\nportion, and preserve their distinctive national habits much more\ntenaciously than the rest of their countrymen. The synagogue Emmanuel\nin San Francisco is the most costly and elegant place of worship\non the Pacific coast, while the German Protestants have scarcely a\nchurch in California, and indeed, few of them can be regarded as\nChristians in any sense.\n\nThe French population of California is very considerable, amounting\nto probably from ten to fifteen thousand, though, as comparatively\nfew of its members become naturalized, it is not so easy to estimate\nits numbers. In itself it is more completely organized than any\nother class of the population, having its own benevolent societies,\nhospitals, military companies, savings-banks, press, and other\ninstitutions, all distinctively French in their management. The\nItalians, who are nearly as numerous as the French, resemble them in\nthe number of their national organizations; but they are not as well\nmanaged as those of the former. The Italians are engaged chiefly in\ntrade, fishing, and gardening, in which pursuits they are industrious\nand usually prosperous. The French are engaged in almost every\navocation. The Italians have a national church in San Francisco, and\nthe French have a special pastor attached to one of the parochial\nchurches of the city for their benefit.\n\nThe Sclavonians from Austria are also a numerous body; they usually\nare classed with the Italians, though possessing several associations\nof their own nationality. Nearly one half of them are schismatics;\nand the Russian government has lately established a schismatic church\nin San Francisco for their use and that of the few Russians residing\nthere. It is even in contemplation to make that city the residence of\nthe Bishop of Sitka, who has recently been transferred along with his\nflock to the allegiance of the United States, but who, nevertheless,\nstill receives his orders from the Russian synod. It is a curious\nexample of the way religious affairs are managed among the subjects\nof the czar, that the president of the Sclavonian Church Society is\na German Lutheran, who fills the office of Russian consul, and on\nthat account alone is considered sufficiently qualified to direct the\nspiritual concerns of his fellow-subjects.\n\nThe Chinese form a very large, and, in many respects, the strangest\nelement in the population of the Pacific coast. They are spread\nthrough all its States and territories, and, according to the most\nreliable accounts, number at least a hundred thousand. Few of\nthem have families, or ever intend to settle permanently in the\ncountry, but after a few years' toil as servants or laborers they\nalmost invariably return to China. The immense majority of them are\npagans or atheists, and they have several temples or joss-houses in\ndifferent cities of California. A few Catholics, however, are to be\nfound among them, and a small chapel has lately been opened in San\nFrancisco for their special use. The morals of the pagan Chinese are\nof the most licentious kind, and slavery in its worst form exists\namong them in spite of the laws, their ignorance of the language\nacting as an effectual bar to their availing themselves of its\nsafeguards to personal freedom. As in all other Chinese settlements,\nso in California, they have practically a government of their own,\nunder the name of companies, the chief men of which exercise almost\nabsolute authority over their countrymen, extending, it is believed,\noccasionally to the infliction of capital punishment. The white\nlaboring classes are bitterly opposed to the Chinese, on account\nof the low rate of wages for which they work, and the belief that\nthey are slaves of the companies; but nevertheless their numbers\nare steadily on the increase, and it is not impossible but they\nmay eventually become the majority of the population of the entire\nPacific slope.\n\nThe greater part of the preceding remarks are applicable mainly to\nCalifornia and the adjoining mining territories of Nevada, Montana,\nIdaho, and Arizona, which have been chiefly settled from it, and\nwhose inhabitants partake of the character of its people. The\nState of Oregon and the adjoining territory of Washington number a\npopulation of nearly two hundred thousand, of an entirely different\ncharacter from that of California.\n\nWhile Catholic missionaries were the first settlers in California,\nthe colonization of Oregon was mainly effected under the direction\nof Methodist ministers and the auspices of the Methodist Church.\nCatholic priests, it is true, had preceded Methodism on its soil,\nand the present Archbishop of Portland and the Vicar-Apostolic of\nVancouver had visited its Indian tribes in 1838; but the Methodist\ncolonies, which arrived in the country a few years later, were\ndeeply imbued with hatred to Catholicity, and a good deal of their\nintolerant spirit still remains among the people. The Jesuits have\nbeen, indeed, very successful in converting and civilizing the\nIndians; but the white population, with the exception of a few\nCanadian colonies and a not very large number of Catholics in the\ncity of Portland and the mining districts of southern Oregon, is\nmainly under Methodist influence. Indeed, so high did anti-Catholic\nprejudice run among the first settlers of Oregon, that a Methodist\nconference seriously proposed to Mr. Lane, the first governor of the\nterritory, to expel all Catholics from his jurisdiction by force,\na proposition which it is scarcely needful to say he indignantly\nrejected. Of late years, however, the number of Catholics is on the\nincrease, and with the greater facilities for settlement offered\nby the lines of railroads now in course of construction, their\nnumbers will no doubt grow still faster in the future. Portland\nin Oregon is an archiepiscopal see, and Washington territory is a\nseparate diocese, so that Catholic immigrants need not fear the\nwant of religious aids in spite of the limited number of their\nfellow-worshippers in these northern districts of the Pacific coast.\n\nSuch, in brief, is the past history and the present state of the\nchurch beyond the Rocky Mountains; and a Catholic can hardly fail to\nfind in them the brightest hopes for its future. Obstacles will have\nto be encountered, no doubt; fights be fought and sacrifices made;\nbut the successes which Catholicity has already achieved, and the\nvantage-ground she now occupies in California, leave little reason\nto doubt of her final triumph. The soil, fertilized by the sweat and\nblood of the Franciscan missionaries, cannot prove a barren one; and\nno part of the Union gives promise of a richer harvest than that\nCalifornia which a few years ago was regarded throughout the world as\nthe chosen abode of lawlessness and crime.\n\n\n\n\nOUR LADY'S NATIVITY.\n\n\n    Star of the morning, how still was thy shining,\n      When its young splendor arose on the sea!\n    Only the angels, the secret divining,\n      Hailed the long-promised, the chosen, in thee.\n\n    Sad were the fallen, and vainly dissembled\n      Fears of \"the woman\" in Eden foretold;\n    Darkly they guessed, as believing they trembled,\n      Who was the gem for the casket of gold.[302]\n\n    Oft as thy parents bent musingly o'er thee,\n      Watching thy slumbers and blessing their God,\n    Little they dreamt of the glory before thee,\n      Little they thought thee the mystical Rod.\n\n    Though the deep heart of the nations forsaken\n      Beat with a sense of deliverance nigh;\n    True to a hope through the ages unshaken,\n      Looked for \"the day-spring\" to break \"from on high;\"\n\n    Thee they perceived not, the pledge of redemption--\n      Hidden like thought, though no longer afar;\n    Not though the light of a peerless exemption\n      Beamed in thy rising, immaculate star!\n\n    All in the twilight, so modestly shining,\n      Dawned thy young beauty, sweet star of the sea!\n    Only the angels, the secret divining,\n      Hailed the elected, \"the Virgin,\"[303] in thee.\n\n                                                    B. D. H.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[302] \"Thou art the casket where the jewel lay.\"--_George Herbert._\n\n[303] \u1f23 \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b8\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2. LXX. _The_ Virgin, not _a_ Virgin; which is\nalso more in accordance with the Hebrew and the Latin.\n\n\n\n\nPLUTARCH.\n\n\nThe moral influence which Plutarch exerts over posterity is of a\nvery peculiar kind. He has not, like Aristotle, laid down the law\nto an entire world for nearly two thousand years. He has not been\ndeemed so perfect a master of style as Virgil or Cicero, who were\nthe models, first of the Benedictines, and then of the prose writers\nand poets of the humanitarian school. His reputation pales by the\nside of the brilliant fame which the resurrected Plato enjoyed\nduring the fifteenth century; and yet he has done what all these\nimmortals, whose authority far surpasses in extent and duration that\nof his biographies, have failed to do. Among the revived ancient\nauthors none has surpassed Plutarch in inspiring the moderns with\nthe same keen appreciation of the classic characteristics, with the\nsame love and enthusiasm for whatever is really or supposedly great\nin antiquity; and none has therefore contributed so much to the\nrevelation of what we understand by the purely human in man's nature.\n\nFrom the days of Macchiavelli and Charles V. down to the present, we\nrarely fail to meet with the name of Plutarch among those writers who\nhave made an abiding impression on the youthful minds of prominent\nstatesmen and warriors. In turning over the leaves of the biographies\nof our modern great, we are constantly reminded of the words which\nSchiller puts into the mouth of Carl Moor: \"When I read of the great\nmen in my Plutarch, I loath our ink-staining age.\" This sentiment has\nfound an echo in every civilized land, and especially in France.\n\nThe first French translation of Plutarch's Parallels was welcomed\nby Montaigne with expressions of the liveliest joy. \"We would have\nbeen swallowed up in ignorance,\" exclaims he, (essay ii. 4,) \"if this\nbook had not extricated us from the slough; thanks to Plutarch, we\nnow dare to speak and write.\" Rabelais refreshes his soul with the\n_Moralia_. \"There is,\" writes the translator Amyot to King Charles\nIX., \"no better work next to holy writ.\" The \"perennially young\"\nPlutarch is the \"breviary,\" the \"conscience\" of the century, and he\nremains until the beginning of the most modern time--as Madame Roland\ncalls him--\"the pasture of great souls,\" and the \"fellow-companion\nof warriors.\" Cond\u00e9 had him read out aloud in his tent, and in the\nhistorical part of the books for a camp library which Napoleon\nBonaparte ordered from the citoyen J. B. Soy, \"_homme de lettres_,\"\nMarch, 1798, Plutarch stands first, and Tacitus, Thucydides, and\nFrederick II. last.\n\nThe home of Plutarch's admirers is, as we have already observed,\nFrance. Like all Latin races, the French delight to revel in pictures\nof ancient greatness; their historical imagination is governed by\nfantastic ideals of antiquity, especially of ancient Rome, and the\nfountain from which they drew, mediately and immediately, their\ninspiration, is Plutarch's Lives. Hence the exaggerated estimate of\nPlutarch's historical merits, against which modern criticism begins\nto protest with much vigor, is greatest in that country. Indeed,\nthe principle upon which Plutarch has selected his historical\nauthorities, and the manner in which he has used them, are decidedly\nopen to objection. They are not chosen according to their scientific\nor critical value, but according to their wealth of picturesque\ndetail and psychologically remarkable characteristics. He follows\na leading author, whose name he usually omits to state, and whose\ntestimony he only compares with that of other writers when there is\na conflict of authorities. The text is never cited. He reproduces\nthe sense, but with that latitude which is natural to an imaginative\nmind endowed in an unusual degree with the gift of realizing the\npast. In the choice of his subject matter he follows the instincts\nof a historical portrait-painter. To describe campaigns, to analyze\ngreat political changes, is not his province. His acquaintance with\nthe political and military systems of the ancient Greeks and Romans\nis very superficial, and he seems to care little for a more intimate\nknowledge of them. His main purpose is not the study of history, but\nthat of the personal career of interesting individuals. \"It is not\nhistories we write,\" Plutarch tells us himself in his introduction to\nthe life of Alexander the Great; \"but life-pictures;\" and for these,\nhe maintains, some small trait, some apt expression, be it only a\nwitticism, is often more available than the greatest military deeds,\nthe most bloody victories, or the most splendid conquests.\n\nIn making this distinction, which Plutarch repeatedly acknowledges\nto be a rule with him, he forgets that he violates the natural\nconnection, inasmuch as all historical personages are part and\nparcel of the time they live in; he forgets also that, thus treated,\nhistorical characters degenerate into ordinary mortals. But Plutarch\ndoes not aspire to the dignity of a historian; he simply claims to\n\"paint souls;\" and those readers who ignore this distinction have\nnever comprehended him.\n\nSome of the works which Plutarch was still able to consult are lost,\nand we depend, therefore, upon him for light on certain important\nperiods of history. This has led many to regard him as a historical\nauthority, to consider his biographical narratives as the main\nobject of his writings, and to skip the moralizing comparisons of\nthe parallel biographies which show that these portraits are to him\nnothing more than a means of illustrating his peculiar ethics by\nexamples. This point is of great importance; for it proves the only\nview from which the literary character of Plutarch can be justly\nestimated.\n\nNot only his narratives, but the judgments which he bases upon them,\nand the views of the world from which they spring, have left their\nmark on posterity, and this to an extent surprising even to the\ninitiated. And here it behooves us to exercise still greater caution,\na still greater distrust, than we entertain for his statements of\nfact. Plutarch stands as far removed from the times of the heroes\nupon whom he passes judgment, as we are from the characters of the\nCrusades. The full effects of this remoteness can only be estimated\nby those who have made Plutarch's age and the moral condition\nreflected in his non-historical writings their special study.\n\"Plutarch's biographies,\" remarks a French scholar of this class,\n\"are an explanatory appendix to his _Moralia_; both equally reflected\na Greek provincialist's views of the world under the empire; the\nviews of one who sought to console himself for the degradation and\nemptiness of the present by a romantic idealization of the real and\nimaginary grandeur of a former age.\" Plutarch is an out-and-out\nromancist, and to this must be mainly ascribed the influence he\nwields over a certain order of minds. The historical errors which\nwe are so slowly correcting are due to this discovery. To show how\nlittle Plutarch was fit to play the part of interpreter to a period\nwhich had already become remote antiquity in his day, we need only\ncast a single glance at the times in which he lived.\n\nFrom Plutarch's own writings we glean nothing that is authentic\nin regard to his life. Rich as they no doubt are in interesting\ncontributions to the moral and intellectual history of his times,\nthey are barren as regards every thing relating to the author's\nbiography. In truth, the biographer of the ancients is himself\nwithout a biography. We know, in the main, that he was born in\nCh\u00e6ronea, about the time of Nero's visit to the Delphic temple; that\nhe studied at Athens under the philosopher Ammonius; that he visited\nGreece, Egypt, and Italy as a peripatetic scholar. After having\ntaught many years at Rome, he finally returned to his native place\nand commenced that prolific literary activity which he displayed\nin nearly all departments of ancient knowledge. In these labors\nthe indefatigable student was rather assisted than retarded by his\nvarious public duties, first on the urban police, then as archon, and\nlastly as the high-priest of the Delphic Apollo.\n\nThe story that Plutarch was once the teacher of Trajan, and that the\nlatter appointed him governor of Hellas and Illyricum, first told\nby Symkellas and Suidas, then repeated by John of Salisbury and the\nscholars of the Renaissance, is a silly Byzantine fable. The latter\nportion of Plutarch's life, as we learn from his confessions, passed\nin a retirement entirely inconsistent with the Byzantine story. The\nworld within whose bounds the archon of Ch\u00e6ronea and priest of Apollo\nlived was a contracted one, and only romance could gild such an\nexistence with the halo of departed glory.\n\nPlutarch may be said to have done wonders. At a time when the old\nlove of country and state had long died out, he, the philosopher,\ndeterminedly opposed the petty, baneless cosmopolitanism of his day.\nIn a world which had long lost its ancient faith, and in which the\nGospel of Christ had not yet attained the ascendency, the priest of\nthe Delphic oracle battled undismayed for the old gods and against\nthe anarchy of the renegade schools of philosophy. In both cases he\nis, however, himself, and more than he seems aware or is willing to\nconcede, tainted by the prevailing scepticism, and it is this, in\nconsequence, which colors his own views of the world with what we\ncall romanticism.\n\nLet us follow Plutarch for a moment on those two battle-fields of his\npolemics, and observe the distinctive features of the _Moralia_.\n\nThe warm appreciation which he displays for every thing that is great\nin humanity or history is surprising when we remember the incredible\nhollowness of the surroundings amidst which his heroes were drawn,\nand the society in which he lived, not as a soured misanthrope, but\nas a stirring official. The petty Ch\u00e6ronea was hardly the place to\nprepare the mind for the reception of great thoughts. The population\nof the municipality, though active and bustling, lived far from the\ngreat world. It had its share of orators, sophists, lecturers; it had\nparty divisions to quicken the heart to love and hate; it had games\nto excite the passions and to stimulate ambition. But what were the\nquestions which the people quarrelled about with all the readiness\nand vehemence proverbial of the Hellenic race? They were mainly where\nthe best baths might be found; which party was most likely to triumph\nat the next dog or cock-fight; what kind of man the new official\nfrom Rome, or the next travelling sophist, would turn out to be; how\nsuch a one had made his fortune, or how Ismenodora, the wealthy\nwidow, could have espoused an obscure man? These were the principal\ntopics which the Ch\u00e6roneans of Plutarch's day discussed when they\nwent to sleep at night, and resumed again on waking in the morning.\nAnd yet how dearly Plutarch loved this small, petty fatherland! How\nhappy he appears to be that it should enjoy the golden peace which\nat last fell upon the world after the empire had put an end to the\nterrible civil wars! Under the iron rule of Rome all provinces once\nmore breathed freely. Whatever imperialism meant at the capital,\nin the provinces it was still popular; and even under Domitian, as\nSuetonius assures us, the moderation and justice of the C\u00e6sars was\nthe theme of general praise. In contemporary Hellas, in the province\nof Achaia, the people appreciated these blessings, though they felt\nmost painfully the loss of their former power and renown. Even the\nmonuments of their ancient glory, which attracted annually crowds\nof strangers, became so many tombstones full of bitter memories,\nand the explanations of the garrulous guides must have sounded like\nreproaches in the ears of the degenerate race.\n\nThe policy which imperial Rome pursued toward the land from which she\nhad received in the palmy days of her transition to a more refined\nculture the most admired models in science and art, and from which\nshe obtained in the following centuries the best instructors, the\nmost learned writers, and the most desirable nurses, was a strange\ncompound of severe brutality and flattering caresses. When the great\nGermanicus, accompanied by a single lictor, reverentially entered the\nsacred precincts of Athens, and graciously listened to the vaunts\nof the rhetoricians on the splendor and glory of Greece, and when\nimmediately afterward the brutal Piso descended on the city like a\nthunderbolt to remind the frightened provincials in a bullying manner\nthat they were no longer Athenians, but the sweepings of nations,\n(_conluvies nationum_, Tac. Annal. iii. 54,) then this people learnt\nby abrupt changes how they stood in the regard of the Romans.\n\nWhen the Greeks became the subjects of Rome, they were but too\nspeedily taught what she meant by the \"liberation of the oppressed.\"\nAll the accustomed safeguards of the law were suspended at one sweep.\nNo marriage contract, no negotiation, no purchase, no sale, between\ncity and city, village and village, was binding unless ratified by\nspecial act of grace from Rome. All sources of prosperity, all public\nand private rights, passed into Roman hands. Nothing remained to the\nGreeks save the memory of their former prestige, and the old rivalry\nbetween the tribes and cities, which invariably burst out afresh\nwhenever the emperor or one of his lieutenants favored one more than\nthe other. So humiliating and painful were the results of this state\nof things, that even such a zealous local patriot as Plutarch advises\nthe people, in his pocket oracle for embryo statesmen, to forget\nthe unfortunate words Marathon, Plat\u00e6a, and Eurymedon. And yet the\nsame Plutarch is so thoroughly B\u0153otian, that he cannot prevail on\nhimself to forgive the \"father of history\" the malicious candor with\nwhich he relates the bad conduct of the Thebans in the Persian war.\n\nCh\u00e6ronea, the home of Plutarch, ranked among the most favored\ncities of the empire, being a _municipium_, or free city, under the\nprotectorate of Rome, but governed in accordance with its ancient\nlaws by officers elected by the people. Plutarch gives us a very\ninteresting picture of the local administration. His political\nprecepts, and his treatise on the part which it behooves an old man\nto play in the state, thoroughly enlighten us on all these points.\nThe municipal officers, though merely honorary and unsalaried, were\nas much an object of contention as in former days when they were\nlucrative. The candidates were often obliged to make extraordinary\nexertions for popular support; they erected public edifices; endowed\nschools and temples; built libraries, aqueducts, baths; distributed\nbread, money, and cakes; got up games and feasts, and many wealthy\nmen were thus ruined by their ambition. The benefits secured by\npublic office were exemption from local taxation, precedence at the\ntheatres and games, the erection of busts, statues, inscriptions, and\npictures; and, after the expiration of office, perhaps promotion in\nthe imperial service.\n\nIn addition to the expenses incident to such a canvass, the\ncandidates, if not of low extraction and mean spirit, had to give\nup many prejudices which must have greatly hurt the pride of every\ntrue Greek. Plutarch fully explains in his political precepts what a\npatriot might expect in those days on entering the public service.\n\n    \"Whatever position,\" he tells his young countrymen, \"you may\n    attain, never forget that the time is past when a statesman\n    can say to himself with Pericles on putting on the chlamys,\n    Remember that thou presidest over a free people, over Hellenes,\n    or Athenians. Rather remember that though thou hast subjects,\n    thou thyself art a subject. Thou rulest over a conquered\n    people, under imperial lieutenants. Thou must therefore wear\n    thy chlamys modestly; thou must keep an eye on the judgment\n    seat of the proconsul, and never lose sight of the sandals\n    above thy crown. Thou must act like the player, who assumes the\n    attitudes prescribed in his part, and, turning his ear toward\n    the prompter, makes no mien, motion, or sound but such as he is\n    ordered.\"\n\nEven the officials of this free city were therefore only puppets,\nwhose functions presented no temptation to the ambitious. All that\nwas left to the local government were the inferior market and street\npolice, the care of the local security and order, and a partial\nparticipation in the apportionment of the imperial taxes. But while\nthere was nothing to stimulate the ambition of the Ch\u00e6roneans,\nthe system had a tendency to promote sycophancy. The subordinate\nofficials entirely ceased to think and act independently, and applied\nto the emperor in person for directions on the veriest trifles,\nespecially when the ruler seemed inclined to encourage this spirit\nof subserviency. Such an emperor was Trajan, admired by Pliny for\nhis untiring activity, which led him to meddle with every thing. He\ntook up his pen to defend the exchange of two soldiers, to decree\nthe removal of a dead man's ashes, and to assign an athlete's\nreward. Pliny, his lieutenant, ruled Bithynia like an automaton. In\nPrusa, Nicodemia, Nicea, not a man, not a sesterce, not a stone,\nwas suffered to change its place without the imperial sanction. The\nselection of a surveyor was made a question of state. The emperor\nseems finally to have found the work too much for him; for he writes\non one occasion to his lieutenant: \"Thou art on the spot, must\nknow the situation, and shouldst determine accordingly.\" In the\ncorrespondence of these two men can be traced the corruption which\ngradually seized and overwhelmed rulers and ruled in the Roman empire\non the inclined plane of a rapidly spreading super-civilization.\n\nIt is greatly to the honor of Plutarch that he condemns this\nmischievous tendency. He does not find fault with it for the\npolitical reasons which would lead us to oppose a paralyzing\ncentralization, but for the sake of the manly dignity, the moral\nself-respect, which should never be forgotten. \"Let it suffice,\"\nexclaims he, \"that our limbs are fettered; it is unnecessary to place\nour necks also in the halter.\"\n\nWe perceive here in the honest archon of Ch\u00e6ronea still something\nof the sturdy spirit of ancient Hellas. Not in vain had he read\nthe history of his ancestors; in spite of the unpropitious\ntimes, he still holds what survives of their virtues worthy of\npreservation; and it is gratifying to find a man of this stamp\nserving an ungrateful public, while the conceited philosophers of\nhis day regarded politics a contamination. Nor was it without a\ngood influence upon the literary labors of Plutarch that he did not\nboast, with Lucan, to know \"no state or country,\" but was content\nto contribute his share to a better state of things. Yet it is\nnevertheless easy to see that in such an atmosphere no state like the\none for which Themistocles, Pericles, and Demosthenes had worked and\nstriven on the field and the tribune--no country like that for which\nheroes had fought and bled at Marathon, Salamis, and Plat\u00e6a--could\nhope to thrive. In this cramped, commonplace sphere, amidst the\nprovincial gossip and the petty interests of such surroundings,\nthe fierce passions which had once inspired parties, which in Rome\nhad fired the hearts of the Gracchi and the other martyrs of the\ndeclining commonwealth, were altogether impossible. Here were only\nthe citizens of a small provincial town, the descendants of an\nancient and highly renowned nobility but of beggarly presence, the\nwards of a subjugated land. The enthusiasm with which the higher\nminds of such an era revelled in the reminiscences of departed\ngreatness was perfectly natural; no less natural was the dim twilight\nin which its heroes appeared to eyes so little accustomed to\ndiscriminate. We can understand why such a profound impression should\nhave been made by all that was foreign in the olden times, especially\nwhen the means to analyze, probe, and comprehend it were wholly\nwanting.\n\nPlutarch's keen appreciation of all the qualities in which the\nancients had the advantage over his own contemporaries reflects\nmuch credit upon him. Yet he is incapable of comprehending them\nindividually, for there was nothing to correspond with them in the\nworld he lived in. His ideas of state and freedom, of country and\nvirtue among the ancients, are distorted, because in his time their\nmeaning had partly been changed, and partly been lost. To Plutarch's\nsusceptible mind, the heroes of Roman and Grecian history appeared\nlike the effigies preserved in some ancestral hall. He experienced,\nhowever, something of the thrill of exultation which electrified\nSallust, when he, a warm-hearted youth, first tasted the same\nsensation; but when he endeavors to communicate this feeling to the\nreader, he succeeds only in demonstrating his unfitness for the task.\nAn historian, in our sense of the word, Plutarch, we know, does\nnot aspire to be; he claims merely to \"paint souls\" and \"to teach\nvirtue,\" but even herein he fails. His men are no real personages,\nno flesh and blood beings, whom he makes step out from the frame of\ntradition, but puppets gaudily and incongruously arrayed in all kinds\nof odds and ends. He has never produced a single _genre_ portrait,\nbut merely supplied the raw materials; and these may be even more\nvaluable than any artistically finished but misdrawn historical\nlikeness would have been. This is, however, all that can be said in\nthe behalf of Plutarch's creations, and when we have followed him\nto his home and visited his mental laboratory, we perceive that it\ncould not well have been otherwise. It is in this light that we have\nto depict to ourselves Plutarch in the character of the romancist of\nthe ancient ideal of state and country. And when, in conclusion, we\nregard him further as the romancist of the ancient faith, he may be\ntaken for the predecessor of the apostate Emperor Julian, whom David\nStrauss so admirably sketched twenty years ago as the romancist on\nthe throne of the C\u00e6sars.\n\nAnd here also the priest of the Pythian Apollo was once more\ncompelled to accommodate himself to the sad changes of his time. The\npriestess still sat on the tripod; the sacred fumes still rose out\nof the earth; the seeress was still beset by curious questioners,\nand the fountains of the oracle still continued to flow. But how\ndifferent was the nature of the questions which the contemporaries of\nPlutarch addressed to the deity! Not war or peace between nation and\nnation, not rupture or alliance between state and state, as in former\ndays, now demanded its solution. It was what should be eaten, drunk,\nsown, or harvested; what the deity thought of a nuptial, of the\nportion set apart for a son or daughter! Such were the things that\ntempted the curiosity of the oracle-seekers; and to answer them no\nlonger in poetry, but in homely prose, had become the trivial duty of\nthe sanctuary. And yet the magnificence of the gifts and endowments\nhad of late rather increased than fallen off.\n\n    \"Like the trees,\" exultingly exclaims Plutarch, \"whose vigorous\n    sap shoots forth continually new sprouts, so grows the Pylum of\n    Delphi, and extends day by day in the number of its chapels,\n    consecrated water-fonts, and assembly halls, which rise in a\n    splendor unknown for years. Apollo has saved us from neglect\n    and misery to overwhelm us with wealth, honors, and splendors;\n    it is impossible that such a revolution should have been caused\n    by human agencies without divine intervention; it is he who has\n    come to bestow his blessing on the oracle.\"\n\nBut not even Plutarch could disguise to himself the sad fact that\nthe worship of the oracle had by no means kept pace with the\nprogress of superstitious faith. Still, while the heathen deities\nhad multiplied to an extent which led Pliny to declare that the gods\nin Olympus outnumbered the men on earth; while the number of secret\nand public sects steadily increased in the east and west; while all\nthe abominations of a misdirected religious instinct in both worlds\nunited as in one common sewer at Rome, when Tacitus said that among\nthe rising sects the one prospered most which proclaimed not only a\nnew god, but a new license for all who were oppressed and poor; while\nall this was going on, the higher classes of society, the flower of\nthe intellect of the heathen world, had repudiated the superstitions\nof the masses, partly to deny the existence of the gods, and partly\nto adopt strange and exclusive mysteries.\n\n    \"This estrangement from the gods,\" exclaims Plutarch, \"may be\n    divided into two streams: the one seeks a bed in those hearts\n    which resemble a rocky soil, where every thing of a divine\n    nature is rejected; the other waters gentle souls like a\n    porous soil with exactly opposite effects, producing there an\n    exaggerated and superstitious fear of the gods.\"\n\nAgainst both these illusions Plutarch protests in a whole series of\nworks, and the manner in which he does it exhibits the best side of\nhis character. \"It is so sweet,\" he assures us, \"to believe;\" and we\nalso readily believe him when he describes the feelings with which he\nwitnesses the solemnities of divine worship.\n\n    \"The unbeliever,\" he says, \"sees in prayer only an unmeaning\n    formula, in sacrifices only the slaughter of helpless animals;\n    but the devout feels his soul elevated, the heart relieved of\n    sorrow and pain.\"\n\nHe implores a pious and child-like reverence for the faith of his\nforefathers; it was these gods who have made Greece great, protected\nit in good and evil seasons; and those who will not pray to them from\ntheir inmost hearts, should at least suffer others to enjoy their\npeace of mind and happy simplicity. They should imitate the Egyptian\npriest, who, when too closely questioned by Herodotus, placed his\nfinger upon his lips in mysterious silence. He thinks it shows little\ndelicacy in the Stoics and Epicureans to attempt to represent the\ngods as merely another name for the elementary forces. Those who\nmistake fire, water, air, etc., for the gods, accept the sails,\nropes, and anchor of a vessel for the pilot, the wholesome drug for\nthe physician, and the threads of the web for the weaver.\n\n\"You destroy,\" says he to the Epicureans, \"the foundations of\nsociety; you murder the holiest instincts of the human soul.\" To the\nStoics he says,\n\n    \"Why attack what is universally accepted? why destroy the\n    religious idea which each people has inherited in the nature\n    of its gods? You ask, above all things, proofs, reasons, and\n    explanations? Beware! If you bring the spirit of doubt to every\n    altar, nothing will be sacred. Every people has its own faith.\n    That faith, transmitted for centuries, must suffice; its very\n    age proves its divine origin; our duty is to hand it down to\n    posterity, without stain or change, pure and unalloyed.\"\n\nBut what of Plutarch's own orthodoxy? It is just what we might have\nexpected from one who was too intelligent to believe the ancient\nmyths and too much of an enthusiast calmly to test his religious\nheritage. Socrates was not remiss in offering up prayers and\nsacrifices; no Athenian goddess could rationally complain of him;\nhe believed not only in a Daimonion, or Deity, but (if the Apology\nbe genuine) also in a Son of God; yet he was an atheist. Plutarch's\npiety is no doubt more enthusiastic in a ratio to his lack of the\nSocratian keenness of intellect, but strictly considered he has no\ngreater claims to the odor of orthodoxy. With him also the different\ngods resolve themselves into demons, and it is only in his heart that\nhe knows the one true God--a tenet which has nothing in common with\nthe cheerful anthropomorphism of the Hellenic national creed.\n\nIn brief, we discover in Plutarch's character the same\ninconsistencies which are peculiar to all men of his kind. He stands\nbetween two eras. He flies from an aged civilization, which holds\nhim in the iron bonds of custom, to new views of a world which, even\nimperfect as they are, involuntarily master his reason, though they\nfail to satisfy his imagination and feelings. From the prose of\nevery-day life he turns to the memory of the glories of his nation,\nand becomes their chronicler. Repulsed by the unbelief and degeneracy\nof his contemporaries, he seeks consolation in the poetical fables\nof the ancient faith, and becomes thus the panegyrist of antiquity.\nHe is, however, unable to reproduce this antiquity in a pure state.\nHe cannot entirely divest himself of all sympathy with those among\nwhom he lives, and remains more than he will admit the child of his\nown day. Hence what he transmits to us is veiled in that solemn but\nindistinct semi-obscurity which we meet not only in the ancient\ntemples, but in the heads of the romancists themselves.\n\n\n\n\nTHE MIRACLE OF ST. FRANCIS.\n\nFROM THE SPANISH OF FERNAN CABALLERO.\n\n\nWe are not telling a romance, but relating an occurrence exactly as\nits details proceeded from the mouth of the responsible narrator, who\nis an ox-driver. He who takes offence at the source, the stream, and\nthe receptacle, that is to say, at the ox-driver, his story, and the\nrecipient who is going to set it down in black and white, had better\npass this by; for the thought that we were going to be read with\nprejudice would change the nimble pen we hold in our hand into an\nimmovable petrifaction.\n\nIn a town of Andalusia that lifts its white walls under the sky that\nGod created solely to canopy Spain, from the heights of Despe\u00f1aperros\nto the city that Guzman el Bueno defended, upon an elevation at the\nend of a long, solitary street, stands a convent, abandoned, as they\nall are, thanks to the _progress_ of ruin. This convent is now, more\nproperly than ever before, the last house of the place. Its massive\nportal faces the town, and its grounds reach back into the country.\nIn these grounds there were formerly many palm-trees--the old people\nremember them--but only two remain, united like brothers. In this\nconvent there were formerly many religious; now but one remains.\nThe palms lean upon each other; the religious is supported by the\ncharity of the faithful. He comes every Tuesday to say mass in the\nmagnificent deserted church, which no longer possesses a bell to call\nworshippers.\n\nNo words can express the sentiments that are awakened by the sight\nof the venerable man, in this vast temple, offering the august\nsacrifice in silence and solitude. One cannot help fancying that\nthe sacred precinct is filled with celestial spirits, in the midst\nof whom the celebrant only is visible. The church is of an immense\nheight, and so peacefully cheerful that it would seem to have been\nbuilt solely to resound to the sublime hymn of the _Te Deum_, and the\nno less sublime canticle of the _Gloria_.\n\nThe high altar, exquisitely carved in the most elaborate and lavish\nstyle of adornment, astonishes the sight with the multitude of\nflowers, fruits, garlands, and gilded heads of angels it displays\nwith a profusion and lustre which prove that in its execution neither\ntime nor labor were taken into account. What use is made of gold in\nour day? Or of time? Are they better employed? He who can show us\nthat they are, will console us for the suppression of the convents.\nUntil it is proved, we shall continue to mourn that noble choir,\nthose sumptuous chapels, that splendid tabernacle, cold and empty as\nthe incredulous heart.\n\nIncredulity! Grand triumph of the material over the spiritual, of\nearth over heaven; of the apostate angel over the angel of light!\n\nThe small square that separates the convent from the street which\nleads to it is overgrown with grass, and in it, in their hours of\nrest, the drivers let their oxen loose.\n\nWithin the inclosure, in place of stairs, a slight terraced ascent,\nsustained at the sides by benches of stone mason-work, leads to the\ndoor of the church. On the right is the chapel of the third order;\nthe path to the left conducts to the principal entrance to the\nconvent.\n\nReader, if you love the things of our ancient Spain, come hither.\nHere the church still stands; here still flourish, without care, the\ntwo palms; here is still a Franciscan friar who says mass in the\nunoccupied temple. Here are still found ox-drivers who tell tales,\nin which things humorous and pious are mingled with the good faith\nand wholesomeness of heart of the child that plays with the venerated\ngray hairs of its parent without a thought that in doing so it is\nwanting in filial respect. But hasten! for all these things will soon\ndisappear, and we shall have to mourn over ruins--ruins to which the\npast, in reparation, will lend all its magic.\n\nThe third day of the week shone pure and gay, ignorant, doubtless,\nof the unlucky quality which men attribute to it, and very far from\nsuspecting that its enemy--a foolish saying--would fain deprive it of\nthe happiness of witnessing weddings and embarkations.[304]\n\nOn a Tuesday, then, that was as innocent of any hostile disposition\nas if it had been a Sunday, the lady who told us that which we are\ngoing to repeat, walked up the long street of San Francisco to the\nvacant convent to hear the weekly mass in which God himself would\nfill the abandoned temple with his most worthy presence. She arrived\nbefore the priest, and finding the church closed, sat down to wait\nupon one of the benches that sustain the terrace. The morning was\ncool enough to make the sunshine agreeable. In sight rose the two\npalms, like a pair of noble brothers, bearing together persecution\nand slight, without yielding or humiliating themselves. The oxen\nlying down within the inclosure ruminated measuredly, but with so\nlittle motion that the small birds passing poised themselves upon\ntheir horns. The efts, gazing at all with their intelligent eyes,\nglided along the walls in a garden of gilly-flowers and rose-colored\ncaper-blooms. Light clouds, like smoke from a spotless sacrifice in\nhonor of the Most High, floated across the enamel of the sky--if it\nis permitted to compare that with enamel with which no enamel that\nwas ever made can compare. It was a morning to sweeten life, so\nentirely did it make one forget the narrow circles in which we fret\nour lives away, and in which living is a weariness.\n\nTwo drivers seated themselves upon the same bench with the lady.\n\nYour Andalusian is never bashful. The sun may be eclipsed; but, in\nthe lifetime of God, not the serenity of an Andalusian. Sultan Haroun\nAl-raschid might have spared himself the trouble of the disguises he\nemployed when he mingled among his people without causing them the\nleast diffidence, if he had ruled in Andalusia. Not that the people\ndespise or cannot appreciate superiority; but they know how to lift\nthe hat without dropping the head.\n\nTherefore it happened that, although the lady was one of the\nprincipal persons of the place, and although there were other benches\nto sit on, that one appearing to them the pleasantest, on that one\nthey sat down, without thought or care as to whether their talk\nwould be overheard. In the northern provinces, where the people are\nentirely good, and as stupid as they are good, they think little\nand speak less; but in Andalusia thought flies, and words follow in\nchase. These people can go two days without eating or sleeping, and\nbe little the worse for it; but remain two minutes silent, they\ncannot. If they have no one to talk with, they sing.\n\n\"Man,\" said one to the other, \"I can never see that chapel without\nthinking of my father, who was a brother of the third order, and\nused to bring me here with him to say the rosary, which the brothers\nrecited every night at the Angelus.\"\n\n\"Christian! and what sort of man must your father have been? There\nare no stones out of that quarry nowadays.\"\n\n\"And how should there be? My father--heaven rest him!--used to say\nthat the guillotine war of the French upset the cart. Men nowadays\nare a pack of idlers, with no more devotion than that of San Korro,\nthe patron of drunkards. But to come back to what I was telling\nyou--a thing his worship once told me, that happened in this very\nconvent.\n\n\"All the people of the barrier used to send to the friars for\nassistance to enable them to die in a Christian fashion. In these\ntimes the majority go to the other world like dogs or Jews. Every\nnight, therefore, one of the fathers remained up, so as to be ready\nin case his services should be wanted. Each kept watch in his turn.\nOne night, when it was the turn of a priest named Father Mateo, who\nwas well known and liked in the town, three men knocked and asked for\na religious to succor a person who was at the point of death. The\nporter informed Father Mateo, who came down immediately. Hardly was\nthe door of the convent closed after him, when they told him that,\nwhether it pleased him or not, they were going to bandage his eyes.\nIt pleased him as much as it would have pleased him to have his teeth\npulled. There was nothing for it, however, but to drop his ears; for\nalthough he was young, and as tall as a foremast, with a good pair\nof fists to defend himself with, the others were men of brass, all\narmed. Besides, neither could his reverence neglect his ministry; and\nonly God knew the intentions of those who had come for him.\n\n\"So he said to himself, 'Rome will have this matter to look after;'\nand let them blindfold him.\n\n\"No one can know what streets they made him walk; into this and out\nof that, till they came to a miserable den, and led him up a flight\nof stairs, pushed him into a room, and locked the door.\n\n\"He took off the bandage; it was as dark as a wolfs mouth, but in the\ndirection of one corner of the room he heard a moan.\n\n\"'Who is in distress?' asked Father Mateo.\n\n\"'I am, sir,' answered the doleful voice of a woman; 'these wicked\nmen are going to kill me as soon as my peace is made with God.'\n\n\"'This is an iniquity!'\n\n\"'Father, by the love of the Blessed Mother, by the dear blood of\nChrist, by the breasts that fed you, save me!'\n\n\"'How can I save thee, daughter? What can I do against three men that\nare armed?'\n\n\"'Untie me, in the first place,' said the unhappy woman.\n\n\"Father Mateo begun to feel about, and, as God vouchsafed him\ndeftness, to undo the knots of the cords that bound the poor\ncreature's hands and feet; but they were hard, he could not see, and\ntime flew as if a bull had been after it.\n\n\"The men were knocking at the door. 'Haven't you got through,\nfather?' asked one of them.\n\n\"'Ea! don't be in a hurry!' said the father, who, though his will was\ngood enough, could hit upon no means of saving the woman, who was\ntrembling like a drop of quicksilver, and weeping like a fountain.\n\n\"'What are we to do?' said the poor, perplexed man.\n\n\"A woman will think of an artifice if she has one foot in the\ngrave, and it entered into this one's head to hide herself under\nFather Mateo's cloak. I have told you that the father was a man who\ncouldn't stand in that door. 'I would prefer another means,' said his\nreverence; 'but, as there is no other, we must take this, and let the\nsun rise in Antequera.'[305]\n\n\"He stationed himself at the door with the woman under his cloak.\n\n\"'Have you ended, father?' asked the villains.\n\n\"'I have ended,' answered Father Mateo, with as calm a voice as he\ncould command.\n\n\"'Do not forsake me, sir,' moaned the poor woman, more dead than\nalive.\n\n\"'Hush! Commend yourself to our Lord of the forsaken ones, and his\nwill be done.'\n\n\"'Come,' said the men, 'be quick; we must blindfold you again.' And\nthey tied on the bandage, locked the door, and all three descended\ninto the street with the father in custody, for fear that he might\ntake off the blind and know the place.\n\n\"They turned and turned again, as before, till they came to the\nstreet of San Francisco; then the rascals took to their heels, and\ndisappeared so quickly that you would have thought they had been\nspirited away.\n\n\"The minute they were out of sight, Father Mateo said to the woman,\n'Now, daughter, scatter dust, and find a hiding-place. No; don't\nthank me, but God, who has saved you; and don't stop; for when\nthose brigands find the bird flown, they will come back and perhaps\novertake me.'\n\n\"The woman ran, and the father in three strides planted himself\ninside of his convent.\n\n\"He went right away to the cell of the father guardian and told him\nall that had happened, adding that the men would surely come to the\nconvent in search of him.\n\n\"The words were hardly out of his mouth when they heard a knocking at\nthe door. The guardian went down and presented himself. 'Can I serve\nyou in any thing, gentlemen?' he asked.\n\n\"'We have come,' answered one, 'for Father Mateo, who was out just\nnow confessing a woman.'\n\n\"'That cannot be, for Father Mateo has confessed no woman this night.'\n\n\"'How! he has not, when we have proof that he brought her here?'\n\n\"'What do you mean, you blackguards? brought a woman into the\nconvent! So this is the way you take to injure Father Mateo's\nreputation, and cast scandal upon our order!'\n\n\"'No, sir, we did not say it with that intention; but--'\n\n\"'But what?' asked the guardian, very indignant. 'What honorable\nmotive could he have had in bringing a woman here at night?'\n\n\"The men looked at each other.\n\n\"'Didn't I tell you,' grumbled one, 'that the thing wasn't natural,\nbut miraculous?'\n\n\"'Yes, yes,' said another; 'this is the doing of God or the\ndevil--and not of the devil, for he wouldn't interfere to hinder his\nown work.'\n\n\"'In God's name go, evil tongues!' thundered the guardian; 'and take\nheed how you approach convents with bad designs, and lay snares, and\ninvent calumnies against their peaceful dwellers, who, like Father\nMateo, sleep tranquilly in their cells; for our holy patron watches\nover us.'\n\n\"'You can't doubt now,' said the most timid of the three, 'that it\nwas the very St. Francis himself who went with us to save that woman\nby a miracle.'\n\n\"'Father Mateo,' said the guardian when they had gone, 'they are\nterribly frightened, and have taken you for St. Francis. It is better\nso; for they are wicked men, and they are furious.'\n\n\"'They honor me too much,' answered the good man; 'but give me leave,\nyour fathership, to depart at daybreak for a seaport, and from thence\nto America, before they have time to think better of it, and hang\nupon me this miracle of St. Francis.'\"\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[304] _Martes ni te cases, ni te embarques._ \"Tuesday, neither marry\nnor embark.\"--Spanish saying.\n\n[305] _Y salga el sol por Antequera._ A common saying, equivalent to,\nAnd let the sky fall; let the consequences be what they may.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FIRST \u0152CUMENICAL COUNCIL OF THE VATICAN.\n\nNUMBER EIGHT.\n\n\nThe proceedings of the Vatican Council have reached a stage that\nallows us to witness again its external splendor and imposing\npresence. Grand and most august as it certainly is, still every thing\nthat strikes the eye fades away as one thinks of its sublime office,\nof its important, unlimited influence and effect. The nature of the\nsubject it has just treated will necessarily make that influence\novershadow all ages to come, and that effect cease to be felt only\nwith the last shock of a world passing away.\n\nThe question that for more than a year has agitated all circles\nof society, that for the past three months has been a subject of\nexciting debate among the fathers of the council, could not have\nbeen of greater weight. It is one of those truths essential to the\nexistence of the church, and had it not been practically acknowledged\namong the faithful throughout the world, Christianity, unless\notherwise sustained by its Author, would have been an impossibility.\nThe vital point examined was the essence of the union of the church,\nof the union of faith, to determine dogmatically in what it consists,\nwho or what is the person or body that can so hold and teach the\nfaith as to leave no doubt of any kind whatsoever regarding its\nabsolute divine certainty.\n\nUp to the present day the infallibility of an \u0153cumenical council,\nor of the whole church dispersed throughout the world, has been\nrecognized as the ultimate rule by all who lay claim to orthodoxy;\nbut with that council, or with that church dispersed throughout the\nworld, as a requisite--_sine qua non_--was the communion and consent\nof the sovereign pontiff. Where he was with the bishops, there was\nthe faith; no matter how many bishops might meet together and decree,\nif Peter was not with them, there was no certainty of belief, no\ninfallible guidance. Nay, their decrees were received only in so far\nas approved by him. _Ubi Petrus, ibi ecclesia_, was the formula\nrecognized by tradition. In a word, where Peter was, there was to\nbe found infallible teaching; where Peter was not, there neither\nwas the teaching infallible. None in the church ever thought of\ngainsaying this. But there came a time when the element all agreed\nhitherto to look on as essential began to be a subject of doubt and\nof discussion. Writers went so far as to say that the pope could be\njudged by the other body of teachers, the bishops; and this followed\nnaturally from a mistrust in the unfailing orthodoxy of the sovereign\npontiff. The greater phases of this movement are well known. The\nCouncil of Constance had hardly closed when the Council of Basle put\nin practice the principles broached by its predecessor, and deposed\nthe reigning head of the church, putting in his stead Amadeus of\nSavoy with the title of Felix V. In the midst of this confusion,\nEugenius IV. held the Council of Florence, in which the remarkable\ndecree was published that declared the pope the vicar of Christ,\nthe ruler of the flock, and the doctor of the universal church.\nThose of the French clergy who clung with tenacity to the principles\nof Basle, refused to receive this decree, under pretence of the\nun\u0153cumenical character of the Council of Florence. The Jansenists\navailed themselves of the advantage this pretext gave them. Although\neighty-five French bishops wrote in the year 1652 to Innocent X.,\naccording, they say, to the custom of the church, in order to obtain\nthe condemnation of these heretics, the latter still held their\nground, and were able to accuse the French assembly of 1682 of\ninconsistency, in attempting to force on them a decision of the pope,\nwhom the assembly itself declared fallible. The celebrated Arnould\ntaught that the refusal of its approbation to a papal decision on\nthe part of one individual church was enough to make the truth of\nsuch a decision doubtful.\n\nWe shall try to give some idea of the importance of the question\nof papal infallibility by a parallel development of two opposite\nteachings, in a rapid sketch.\n\nThe cardinal principle of Gallicanism is the denial of the inerrancy\nof the sovereign pontiff in his solemn ruling in matters of faith and\nmorals when teaching the whole church. Any one who attentively looks\nat the question must see the close connection of the primacy with the\nclaim to unerring certainty in teaching. The domain of the church is\nin faith, in spirituals; temporals being secondary, and the subject\nof legislation only in so far as necessarily bound up with the\nformer. The only reason why a teacher can lay claim to obedience is\nbecause he teaches the truth, and this is especially the case where\nfaith and conscience are concerned. If the sovereign pontiff have not\nthis faculty of teaching the truth without danger of error, then he\ncannot demand implicit submission. The church dispersed throughout\nthe world, being infallible, cannot be taught by one who is capable\nof falling into error. The ordinances therefore and decrees of\nthe pontiff, being intimately connected with faith, and issued on\naccount of it, must follow the nature of the submission to his\nteaching. But as this latter, in the Gallican view, is not obligatory\nunless recognized as just by the whole church, so neither are the\nordinances and decrees to be looked on as binding except under a\nlike reservation. It follows from this, clearly and logically, that\nthe supremacy of the pope can be called supreme only by an abuse of\nterms; consequently, 1st, the texts of canon law and of the fathers\nthat teach a perfect supremacy are erroneous or false, and have no\nfoundation in tradition, which is the truth always, everywhere,\nand by every one held in the same way; 2d, the texts of Scripture\nthat refer to Peter are to be restricted to him personally, or,\nwhen seeming to regard his successors, are to be interpreted in a\nsense not favorable to the idea of a perfect supremacy. The pope\nthus becomes amenable to the church; he is a divinely constituted\ncentre, nothing more; the official representative of the bishops of\nthe whole church dispersed throughout the world, which alone is the\nultimate criterion of truth. He can, therefore, be judged by the\nbishops, be corrected by them, deposed by them, and his asserted\nright to reserve powers to himself to the prejudice of ordinaries,\nor to legislate for dioceses other than his own, is to be set aside.\nA species of radicalism is thus introduced into the church. The\nbishops themselves are not to be looked on as infallible judges of\nthe faith of their flocks even, and the faithful themselves, or\nthe people, become the ultimate judges of what is to be held as of\nfaith. Instead of being taught, they teach; instead of being a _locus\ntheologicus_, they become the _ecclesia docens_; and the teachers\nand rulers become the ruled and taught. As the people themselves are\nliable to be swayed by the influence and teaching of artful men, we\nhave in consequence a weak and uncertain rule to go by; weak, because\nof the moral impossibility of knowing the sense of the whole church,\nfor even the members of an \u0153cumenical council might not exactly\nrepresent the faith of their individual churches; uncertain, because\nof the facility with which in past time the people of many individual\nchurches have been led astray.\n\nAs we write, it seems as if we heard some indignant protest\nagainst what we have just said. We reply that we do not refer to\nindividual opinions; many Gallicans refused to go the length of their\nprinciples; a sense of danger alarmed their piety and put them on\ntheir guard. For our part, we treat of the principles themselves, and\ndeem perfectly consequent what we have asserted. It would be an easy\nmatter to illustrate it with facts of the present as of the past; but\nit would be beyond our scope just now. Any student of history will\nhave no difficulty in recalling the manner in which defections from\nthe church have been brought about, and the errors of those who once\nseemed columns of the temple. The inadequacy of the Gallican rule is\nstill further shown by its practical inconvenience. It is fortunate\nthat in the early church it had no place whatsoever. Peter being then\nrecognized as the head and teacher of the church, all controversies\nwere referred to him, and by him they were settled. _Petrus per\nos Leonis, per os Agathonis locutus est_; so spoke the fathers of\nChalcedon and of the Sixth Council. Suppose for a moment it had\nbeen otherwise; suppose, when the Pelagian heresy arose, it had\nbeen necessary to hear the voice of the whole church scattered over\nthe earth--this being the rule--the whole church, not any one part,\nwas to give the doctrine from which it was not lawful to depart.\nZosimus was but one bishop; so, too, was Innocent I.; Augustin was\nonly one learned man, and Prosper of Aquitaine, a Christian poet and\npolished scholar, but only one other father after all. Those who\nwrote with them bore witness each for his own particular church.\nWhat had become of the churches of Scythia, of Lybia, of Ethiopia,\nof Arabia? Who had penetrated into the Indies, or set sail for the\nislands of the sea, or reached the far-off coasts of the Sinenses?\nWho was to explain with accuracy to those distant Christians the\ncunning dealing of Celestius and Pelagius, that had deceived the\nvigilance of the eastern fathers, and lay bare the hypocritical\nprofessions that had misled even Zosimus? Who was to bring back\nthe opinion or belief of these isolated churches without danger of\nmisunderstanding or misinterpretation? Those were not days when\ncommunication was easy. Weeks and months amid all kinds of dangers\nand uncertainty were required to reach even those places that lay\nnear the shores of the Mediterranean. It was physically impossible to\nascertain with unerring sureness the belief or condemnation of those\nfar-off Christians; and as long as their assent was not given there\nwas no adequate rule of faith. Consequently, there was no prompt or\nefficacious means of correcting error; the means at hand were of\nprobable worth, therefore not sufficient to use against heresy, that\ncould always appeal to the universal church dispersed throughout\nthe world, and when condemned by those near, fly to the probable\nprotection of those at a distance, without the least possibility\nof ever knowing the belief of those to whom they appealed. In the\nmeanwhile, heresy crept into the flock, established itself there; for\nthere was none to cast it forth; and the fold became tainted. Thus\nfrom age to age Christianity would have been a mass of error, the\ntruth being obscured or suffocated by the weight of falsity from the\nwant of a prompt practical means by which heresy could be detected\nand crushed at its birth. Happily no such state of things existed;\nthe chair of Peter was the abode of truth; it was set up against\nerror, and the quick ear and intuitive eye of Christ's vicar heard\nand saw the evil, and met it at the outset.\n\nThe doctrine which teaches the opposite of what we have been\ndescribing, and which is now of faith, clears up all difficulties,\nand comes to us in all the beauty and consistency that adorns truth.\nJesus Christ has made Peter and his successors the foundation of the\nchurch. He has given to him, and to each of those who succeed him,\nof his own firmness, and strengthened his faith that it fail not,\nthat he may confirm his brethren. In this office of confirming his\nbrethren, Peter holds the place of Christ, and acts in his name. The\ngift he possesses, however, is not one of inspiration; but he is\nassisted and kept from erring in his judgment of what is contained\nin the revelation made by Christ to man. To arrive at a knowledge of\nwhat that revelation is, he seeks in his own church, and, according\nto the need, in the churches every where that he may know their\ntraditions. The judgment he makes is infallible, and in promulgating\nit he lays down the tenets of faith for the whole church. Hence he\nbecomes the immovable rock upon which the faithful are builded, he is\nthe centre around which they revolve, the orb from which they receive\nthe light of faith. Hence he has subject to him the minds of all, and\nthe character of his primacy becomes more clear and fully evident. It\nis no longer a mere point of visible communion, but an active power\nplaced by God to rule, with unfailing guidance in faith, and with\na consequent spiritual intuitiveness, that makes him discern what\nis for the good of the church at large throughout the world. Hence\nall are bound to obey him in what regards the faith and teachings\nof Christ; who is with him, is with Christ; whosoever is against\nhim, is against his Master. Hence, too, by a direct consequence,\nthere can be no power set up against his; all the bishops of the\nchurch depend on him, receive their jurisdiction from him, and can\nexercise it only at his word. What a sublime picture of unity, of\norder, and of strength! As an army in array the church advances to do\nbattle against the foes of Christ, never more successful, never more\nglorious, than when her children, recognizing their dependence, and\nharkening to her voice, with one mind and with one heart follow the\nleadership of Peter. No wonder this spectacle struck the unbelieving\nmind with astonishment, or made the gifted writer of England burst\nforth into the glowing description so familiar to all!\n\nThe difference of opinion that existed among the bishops on the\nsubject of the infallibility is known throughout the four quarters\nof the globe. What was the cause of it? If any one imagines that all\nwho joined in opposing a definition from the outset were actuated by\nthe same motives, he would certainly be wide of the mark. While the\nmain point of the controversy was held by the _ultramontanes_ without\nexception, and there was but the one question as to the formula to\nbe used, the opposition, as they were generally called, taken all\ntogether, had no fixed principle of accord, save an agreement to\ndisagree with the defining the doctrine as of faith. To analyze the\nconstituent parts of this body we shall class them according to ideas.\n\nFirst in conviction, in determination, and in influence were the\nGallicans, properly so called, who held and taught the very opposite\nof the proposed dogma. They were mostly men who had been bred in this\nteaching, and who deeply reverenced the memories of those who held\nand taught it in past times. This class was not very numerous, though\nit grew larger in the course of the council by the accession of those\nwhose examination of the question convinced them of the claim of\nGallicanism to their adherence.\n\nThe second class comprised those who, believing the doctrine\nthemselves, or at least, favoring it speculatively, did not think it\ncapable of definition, not deeming the tradition of the church clear\nenough on this point.\n\nA third class, the most numerous, regarded the definition as\npossible, but practically fraught with peril to the church, as\nimpeding conversions, as exasperating to governments. For the sake of\npeace, and for the good of souls, they would not see it proclaimed as\nof faith.\n\nAll of these dissident prelates, we are bound to say, acted with\nconscientious conviction of the justice of the cause they defended.\nThey were bound in conscience to declare their opinions, and to make\nthem prevail by all lawful influence. If on one side or the other of\nthis most important and vital question any went beyond the limits of\nmoderation, or used means not dictated by prudence or charity, it is\nnothing more than might have been expected in so large a number of\npersons, of such varied character and education. Instead of being\nshocked at the little occurrences of this nature, we should rather\nbe struck with admiration at the self-restraint and affability\nwhich were shown, despite the intensity of feeling and strength of\nconviction. In a word, that the Council of the Vatican did not break\nup months ago in disorder and irreconcilable enmity, is because\nit was God's work, and not man's; it was because charity ruled\nin it, in spite of defects, and not the passions that govern the\npolitical debates of men. The earnest desire all had of a mutual good\nunderstanding was evinced on occasion of the speech of a well-known\ncardinal, which, though not approved of by all, gave evidence of\na sincere desire for conciliation and agreement. The effect was\nremarkable; a thrill of pleasure went through the assembly, for the\nmoment each one seemed to breathe freely, and to hail his words as\nharbingers of peace in the midst of excitement and anxiety.\n\nIt was shortly after this incident that the closure of the general\ndiscussion on the four chapters of the present constitution took\nplace. The regulations provide for this contingency, making it lawful\nfor ten prelates to petition for the closing of a discussion, the\nproposal being then put to the vote of all the fathers, and the\nmajority deciding. In this case, a desire not to interfere with\nremarks which bishops, for conscientious reasons, proposed to make,\nkept this regulation in abeyance, and it was only after fifty-five\nspeeches had been listened to, that one hundred and fifty bishops\nsent in a petition for closing, believing there would be ample time\nand opportunity for every one to speak and present amendments when\nthe _schema_ would be examined in detail. An overwhelming majority\nvoted the closure. It seems difficult to understand how this could be\nfound fault with. Had there been no further chance to speak, there\nwould have been reason undoubtedly to claim hearing, or complain\nof not being heard. But, as has been seen since, there have been\ndiscussions on each part of the _schema_; and on the last chapter,\nregarding the doctrine of infallibility, one hundred and nine names\nwere inscribed for speaking, of which number sixty-five spoke, the\nremainder by mutual consent abstaining from speaking; thus of their\nown accord putting a stop to a discussion in which it was morally\nimpossible to say any thing new. It seems surely to be a strange\nassertion to say there has been any real infringement of the liberty\nof speech in the council, when there appears to have been so much of\nit that the members themselves grew weary of it.\n\nWhile we are on this subject, we wish to speak a little more fully,\nas the freedom of the council has been publicly impugned in two\nworks, published in Paris, against which the presidents and the\nfathers have thought proper formally to protest.\n\nThe grounds of the accusation are chiefly three:\n\n1st. The appointment of the congregation, the members of which\nwere named by the sovereign pontiff, and who received or rejected\nthe postulata, or propositions, to be presented to the council for\ndiscussion.\n\n2d. The dogmatic deputation having been composed of those in favor of\nthe definition, and the members having been put on it by management;\nmoreover, this deputation exercised a controlling influence in the\ncouncil.\n\n3d. The interruption of those who were giving expression to their\nopinions, in the exercise of their right to speak.\n\nWe preface our brief reply to these objections by two quotations.\nOne is from the letter of an apostate priest, A. Pichler, at present\ndirector of the imperial library at St. Petersburg, which was written\nby him in Rome last winter, and was published in the _Presse_ of\nVienna. In it he says, \"It seems to us no council has ever been freer\nor more independent.\" The second quotation is from one of the two\nworks referred to above--_Ce qui se passe au Concile_. At page 131 we\nread:\n\n    \"In truth, if the pope alone is infallible, it is not only his\n    right, but a duty, and a strict duty, to guide the bishops,\n    united in council, or dispersed throughout the world, to\n    encourage them if they be in the right way, to reprove them\n    if they go out of it, to take an active part in the work of\n    the assembly, to inspire its deliberations, and dictate its\n    decrees.\"\n\nApart from the spirit that animates the writer of the above, there is\nmuch in what he says, and we take him at his word. The \u0152cumenical\nCouncil of the Vatican has pronounced its irrevocable and infallible\ndecree, declaring infallibility to be and to have been a prerogative\nof the sovereign pontiff, and that his decisions _ex cathedra_ are\nirreformable of themselves, and not by virtue of the consent of\nthe episcopacy. We therefore draw our deduction, and justify the\nsovereign pontiff, by these very words, in nominating the members\nof the congregation, and in conferring on it the ample powers it\nhas. Secondly, we give him the praise of moderation, because he did\nnot make a full use of the rights accorded him by the author of the\ncitation we have given. Were we to follow this writer, we should\nhave to accuse the pope of having in part neglected a grave duty\ntoward the council, for he did not _dictate_ its decrees. In the\nvery beginning, he told the bishops he gave them the _schemata_,\nunapproved by him, to be studied, altered, or amended as they\nsaw fit; and, in fact, when the decrees prepared previously by\ntheologians were proposed by the congregation, they were recast and\namended time and again, and were finally decided by a vote of the\nfathers, and approved by the pontiff without alteration. This is\nsurely not dictation; dictation does not admit of reply or refusal,\nit takes away all liberty whatsoever. The sovereign pontiff then did\nnot _dictate_ the decrees.\n\nLet us return to our triple objection. First, with regard to the\ncongregation. In the early numbers of THE CATHOLIC WORLD for the\ncurrent year, an account of the composition of this body is given,\nas well as the reasons for its appointment. We refer our readers to\nthe March number, in which it may be seen that, although possessed\nof sovereign powers over the church, defined as belonging to him, by\nthe Council of Florence among others, there was no disposition to\nexercise coercion on the part of the pope, who, in controlling the\naction of the council in this way, was only making use of a right the\nwhole church acknowledged. Moreover, the composition of this body was\nitself a guarantee of justice and zeal for the general welfare. That\nthere were not named for it those who were known to be hostile to\nwhat has just been declared of faith, was nothing more than natural.\nMoreover, when these high ecclesiastics had admitted postulata,\ntheir work was over; the propositions passed into the control of the\nfathers, and were decided by vote.\n\nThe answer to the second objection is easier even. This deputation\nwas elected by the fathers themselves; and as the large majority\nfavored the teachings of Rome, they elected none who was opposed to\nthem. As for the accusation of management, we must say that persons\nwho understood well the tendencies of the prominent men of all\nparties, naturally, as happens in all such large bodies, directed the\nchoice of candidates, and the final vote of the fathers settled the\nmatter. It is hard to see how the rights of any were violated. This\ndeputation, from the merit of those that composed it, could not be\nwithout great weight in the council; and when we consider that it was\nthe choice of the large majority, and was in harmony with the views\nof the majority, it is not wonderful that it controlled to a great\nextent the votes of those composing the council.\n\nThe third objection is one that must be treated with great delicacy,\nfor two reasons--because of the impossibility of knowing all the\ncircumstances, and because those who are accused are in a position\nthat prevents them from justifying themselves. The presidents were\nnamed to act for the sovereign pontiff, to preserve due order, to see\nthat the discussion was limited to the matter in hand, and to prevent\nany thing that might tend to disturb good order, or diminish respect\nfor the authority and person of him they represented. If, in the\ndischarge of their duty, they displeased those they addressed, this\nwas to have been expected; if also they in any way did not observe\nthe due mean, so hard to reach in every thing human, one should\nexcuse, if needful, the defect, when especially the great merits, the\ndistinguished services, the known virtue, and high position of these\ncardinals are taken into consideration.\n\nAnd while we are on this subject of objections made against the\ncouncil we may notice two others that especially regard the decree\nof the infallibility; they are, 1st. This decision destroys the\nconstitution of the church, doing away with the apostolic college\nof bishops, and changing the order established by Christ; 2d. this\ndecree is a theological conclusion; but theological conclusions are\nnot of faith, and cannot be so declared.\n\nThese objections are formidable only in appearance. No one contends\nthat each bishop when consecrated succeeds to all the privileges and\npowers of one of the apostles. The bishops, then, not having them in\nthe beginning when consecrated by the apostles, were distinct from\nthe apostles, the apostolic college remaining. When one apostle died,\nhis death did not affect the powers of the church, which remained\nthe same, the other apostles sufficing; so when two, three, or more\ndied, still one remained. He had the same full powers given to\neach, with subordination to Peter as head of the church. Thus with\none apostle and the episcopate the essence of ecclesiastical rule is\npreserved. When St. Peter died, he left a successor, being the only\none of the twelve who did; for he was the only one who had a see. His\nsuccessor received all his rights, the power of binding and loosing,\nof teaching and legislating. He was thus the one apostle living still\nin the world, and each successive pontiff has the same character--the\n_sollicitudo omnium ecclesiarum_ is his--as it was Paul's, John's,\nand Peter's. The essence of the hierarchy is in this way preserved;\nthe apostolic and episcopal elements are there, and the phraseology\nof Christianity keeps ever before us this idea; for the see of Peter\nis always known as the _Sedes Apostolica_. St. Peter Chrysologus\nspeaks of St. Peter living and ruling in his successor--Beatus Petrus\nqui in successore suo et vivet et pr\u00e6sidet et pr\u00e6stat inquirentibus\neam fidem. So far, then, from this definition destroying the\ncharacter of the hierarchy, it asserts and vindicates it by declaring\nthat the one apostle in the church has never lost his apostolic\nprivilege of inerrancy, and that he is truly possessed of the full\npowers without diminution that belonged to the prince of the apostles.\n\nTo the second objection, regarding the nature of the definition, as\nbeing a theological conclusion, we reply, firstly, that what the\nScripture, according to the received and now authentic interpretation\nof the church, taught, and what the practical acknowledgment of\nthe faithful in all ages implied, cannot be called a theological\nconclusion; but must be regarded as being what it is--a directly\nrevealed truth; secondly, a theological conclusion, though not\nof faith in itself, as being the deduction of reason, by the\n_superadded authoritative decision of the church_ can become of\nfaith, as often as the denial of such conclusion affects the truth of\nthat dogma from which it has been deduced. Such questions are fairly\nwithin the range of the church's arbitration; and when there is a\ndoubt concerning the character of a conclusion, it is her province\nto decide whether it be or be not hurtful or beneficial to the truth\nof which she alone is the divinely constituted guardian. Examples in\nthe past history of the councils of the church are not wanting; for\nour purpose, take the Sixth Council. The question of the two wills\nwas a theological conclusion; no one ever spoke of the two wills\nbefore that epoch; the phrase does not occur in all previous theology\nor ecclesiastical history. We first hear of it in the east, where\nmetaphysical studies flourished, and where intellectual pride had\nalready brought about the Arian, Nestorian, and Eutychian heresies.\n\nWe have mentioned the fact of the closure of the discussion on the\nfourth chapter, by mutual consent of those whose names were inscribed\nto speak. This was immediately followed by voting. The first three\nchapters were soon gotten over; the fourth is the one that contains\nthe doctrine on the infallibility, and it met with more opposition.\n\nOn Saturday, July 11th, was held the general congregation in which\nthe details of this portion of the _schema_ were up for approval or\nrejection. On this occasion the voting was by rising simply, and\nagainst the definition there were forty-seven votes.\n\nOn the 13th, another general congregation was called to vote,\naccording to the regulations, on the whole _schema_, by name, with\n_placet_, or _placet juxta modum_, or _non placet_. The register, it\nappears, stands as follows: 451 _placets_, 62 _placets juxta modum_,\nand 88 _non placets_.\n\nSome of these _placets juxta modum_ recommended the insertion of\nwords that would make the decree clearer and stronger. The _schema_\nwas accordingly altered, and the amendments were retained in the\ngeneral congregation held Saturday, July 16th.\n\nOn Sunday morning was distributed a _monitum_, by which the fathers\nwere notified that the fourth public session would be held on Monday,\nJuly 18th, at nine o'clock.\n\nThe 18th of July will henceforth be a memorable day in the history\nof the church. It did not dawn, however, with the brilliancy usual\nat this season, or almost habitual with the grand _f\u00eates_ of Pius\nIX. It rained much during the preceding night, and up to the time\nof the meeting of the session wayfarers were liable any time to be\ncaught by fitful showers. The thought that, although a great and most\nbeneficial act was to be done, still there were not a few of the\nfathers who thought otherwise than the majority in a matter about\nto be made binding on the conscience of all, was not calculated\nto heighten the external manifestation of cheerfulness, whatever\nfeelings of thankfulness to Providence for the event was in the\nheart. As the interest was intense, there were not many, who deemed\nthey could come, who were not present. At nine o'clock precisely,\nhis eminence Cardinal Barili began a low mass, without chant. At the\nend of it, the small throne for the gospels was placed on the altar,\nand upon it the copy of the sacred Scriptures. In a few moments the\nsovereign pontiff entered, preceded by the senate and by the officers\nof his court, and, after kneeling a few moments at the prie-dieu,\nwent to his throne in the apsis of the aula. The customary prayers\nwere recited by him; the litany of the saints was chanted, and the\n\"Veni Creator Spiritus\" intoned, the people present taking part;\nafter which the Bishop of Fabriano ascended the pulpit and read the\n_schema_ to be voted on, and finished with asking the fathers whether\nit pleased them. Monsignor Jacobini next, from the pulpit, called\nthe name of each prelate assisting at the council. Five hundred and\nthirty-four answered _placet_, two replied _non placet_, and one\nhundred and six were absent, some because sick, the far greater\nnumber not wishing to vote favorably. As soon as the result was made\nknown officially to Pius IX., who awaited it in silence, but with\ncalmness, he arose and in a clear, distinct, and firm voice announced\nthe fact of all, with the exception of two, having given a favorable\nvote, wherefore, he continued, by virtue of our apostolic authority,\nwith the approval of the sacred council, we define, confirm, and\napprove the decrees and canons just read. Immediately there arose\nmurmurs of approbation inside and outside the hall, the doors of\nwhich were surrounded by a large crowd, and, increasing from the\nimpossibility those present experienced of repressing their feeling,\nit swelled into a burst of congratulation, and a _Viva Pio Nono Papa\ninfallibile_. We shall not say any thing regarding the propriety of\nsuch proceedings in a church; but there are times when feeling is so\npowerful as to break through all ideas of conventionality. As soon as\nall were quiet, with unfaltering voice and excellent intonation the\npope began the Te Deum. It was taken up alternately by the Sistine\nchoir and those present. By an accident, at the Sanctus, Sanctus,\nSanctus, the people got out, and took up the part of the Sistine\nchoir, and kept it to the end, alternately with the bishops, and with\na volume of sound that completely drowned the delicate notes of the\npapal singers, and which, if not as musical as their chant, was far\nmore impressive. The session ended with the apostolic benediction\nfrom the holy father, accompanied by an indulgence for all assisting,\nin accordance with the custom of the church. Thus passed one of the\nmost momentous and remarkable occasions the world has ever witnessed,\na day henceforth memorable in the annals of the church and of\nmankind, the results of which the human mind is scarce capable of\ngrasping.\n\n\n\n    FIRST DOGMATIC DECREE ON THE CHURCH OF CHRIST,\n    PUBLISHED IN THE FOURTH SESSION OF THE HOLY \u0152CUMENICAL\n    COUNCIL OF THE VATICAN.\n\n    PASSED JULY 18, 1870.\n\n\n    PIVS EPISCOPVS SERVVS SERVORVM     PIUS, BISHOP, SERVANT OF THE\n    DEI SACRO APPROBANTE CONCILIO AD   SERVANTS OF GOD, WITH THE\n    PERPETVAM REI MEMORIAM.            APPROBATION OF THE HOLY COUNCIL,\n                                       FOR A PERPETUAL REMEMBRANCE\n                                       HEREOF.\n\n    Pastor aeternus et episcopus       The eternal Shepherd and Bishop\n    animarum nostrarum, ut             of our souls, in order to render\n    salutiferum redemptionis opus      perpetual the saving work of his\n    perenne redderet, sanctam          redemption, resolved to build\n    aedificare Ecclesiam decrevit,     the holy church, in which, as in\n    in qua veluti in domo Dei          the house of the living God, all\n    viventis fideles omnes unius       the faithful should be united\n    fidei et charitatis vinculo        by the bond of the same faith\n    continerentur. Quapropter,         and charity. For which reason,\n    priusquam clarificaretur,          before he was glorified, he\n    rogavit Patrem non pro Apostolis   prayed the Father, not for the\n    tantum, sed et pro eis, qui        apostles alone, but also for\n    credituri erant per verbum         those who, through their word,\n    eorum in ipsum, ut omnes unum      would believe in him, that they\n    essent, sicut ipse Filius et       all might be one, as the Son\n    Pater unum sunt. Quemadmodum       himself and the Father are one.\n    igitur Apostolos, quos sibi        (John xvii. 1-20.) Wherefore,\n    de mundo elegerat, misit,          even as he sent the apostles,\n    sicut ipse missus erat a           whom he had chosen to himself\n    Patre; ita in Ecclesia sua         from the world as he had been\n    Pastores et Doctores usque ad      sent by the father, so he willed\n    consummationem saeculi esse        that there should be pastors and\n    voluit. Ut vero episcopatus        teachers in his church even to\n    ipse unus et indivisus esset,      the consummation of the world.\n    et per cohaerentes sibi            Moreover, to the end that the\n    invicem sacerdotes credentium      episcopal body itself might be\n    multitudo universa in fidei        one and undivided, and that the\n    et communionis unitate             entire multitude of believers\n    conservaretur, beatum Petrum       might be preserved in oneness\n    caeteris Apostolis praeponens      of faith and of communion,\n    in ipso instituit perpetuum        through priests cleaving\n    utriusque unitatis principium      mutually together, he placed the\n    ac visibile fundamentum, super     blessed Peter before the other\n    cuius fortitudinem aeternum        apostles and established in him\n    exstrueretur templum, et           a perpetual principle of this\n    Ecclesiae coelo inferenda          two-fold unity, and a visible\n    sublimitas in huius fidei          foundation on whose strength\n    firmitate consurgeret.[306]        \"the eternal temple might be\n    Et quoniam portae inferi           built, and in whose firm faith\n    ad evertendam, si fieri            the church might rise upward\n    posset, Ecclesiam contra eius      until her summit reach the\n    fundamentum divinitus positum      heavens,\" (St. Leo the Great,\n    maiori in dies odio                Sermon iv. (or iii.) chapter\n    undique insurgunt; Nos ad          2, on Christmas.) Now, seeing\n    catholici gregis custodiam,        that in order to overthrow, if\n    incolumitatem, augmentum,          possible, the church, the powers\n    necessarium esse iudicamus,        of hell on every side, and\n    sacro approbante Concilio,         with a hatred which increases\n    doctrinam de institutione,         day by day, are assailing her\n    perpetuitate, ac natura sacri      foundation which was placed\n    Apostolici primatus, in quo        by God, we therefore, for the\n    totius Ecclesiae vis ac            preservation, the safety, and\n    soliditas consistit, cunctis       the increase of the Catholic\n    fidelibus credendam et tenendam,   flock, and with the approbation\n    secundum antiquam atque            of the sacred council, have\n    constantem universalis Ecclesiae   judged it necessary to set forth\n    fidem, proponere, atque            the doctrine which, according to\n    contrarios, dominico gregi adeo    the ancient and constant faith\n    perniciosos errores proscribere    of the universal church, all the\n    et condemnare.                     faithful must believe and hold,\n                                       touching the institution, the\n                                       perpetuity, and the nature of\n                                       the sacred apostolic primacy,\n                                       in which stands the power and\n                                       strength of the entire church;\n                                       and to proscribe and condemn the\n                                       contrary errors so hurtful to\n                                       the flock of the Lord.\n\n\n    CAPUT I.                           CHAPTER I.\n\n    DE APOSTOLICI PRIMATUS IN BEATO    OF THE INSTITUTION OF THE\n    PETRO INSTITUTIONE.                APOSTOLIC PRIMACY IN THE BLESSED\n                                       PETER.\n\n    Docemus itaque et declaramus,      We teach, therefore, and\n    iuxta Evangelii testimonia         declare that, according to the\n    primatum iurisdictionis in         testimonies of the Gospel, the\n    universam Dei Ecclesiam            primacy of jurisdiction over\n    immediate et directe beato         the whole church of God was\n    Petro Apostolo promissum atque     promised and given immediately\n    collatum a Christo Domino          and directly to blessed Peter,\n    fuisse. Unum enim Simonem, cui     the apostle, by Christ our Lord.\n    iam pridem dixerat: Tu vocaberis   For it was to Simon alone, to\n    Cephas,[307] postquam ille suam    whom he had already said, \"Thou\n    edidit confessionem inquiens:      shalt be called Cephas,\"[309]\n    Tu es Christus, Filius Dei         that, after he had professed\n    vivi, solemnibus hic verbis        his faith, \"Thou art Christ,\n    locutus est Dominus: Beatus es     the Son of the living God,\" our\n    Simon Bar-Iona, quia caro et       Lord said, \"Blessed art thou,\n    sanguis non revelavit tibi,        Simon Bar-Jona; because flesh\n    sed Pater meus, qui in coelis      and blood hath not revealed it\n    est: et ego dico tibi, quia        to thee, but my Father who is in\n    tu es Petrus, et super hanc        heaven; and I say to thee, that\n    petram aedificabo Ecclesiam        thou art Peter, and upon this\n    meam, et portae inferi non         rock I will build my church,\n    praevalebunt adversus eam: et      and the gates of hell shall\n    tibi dabo claves regni coelorum:   not prevail against it; and\n    et quodcumque ligaveris super      I will give to thee the keys\n    terram, erit ligatum et in         of the kingdom of heaven; and\n    coelis: et quodcumque solveris     whatsoever thou shalt bind upon\n    super terram, erit solutum et in   earth, it shall be bound also\n    coelis.[308] Atque uni Simoni      in heaven; and whatsoever\n    Petro contulit Iesus post suam     thou shalt loose upon earth,\n    resurrectionem summi pastoris      it shall be loosed also in\n    et rectoris iurisdictionem         heaven.\"[311] And it was to\n    in totum suum ovile, dicens:       Simon Peter alone that Jesus,\n    Pasce agnos meos: Pasce oves       after his resurrection, gave the\n    meas.[310] Huic tam manifestae     jurisdiction of supreme shepherd\n    sacrarum Scripturarum doctrinae,   and ruler over the whole of his\n    ut ab Ecclesia catholica           fold, saying, \"Feed my lambs;\"\n    semper intellecta est, aperte      \"Feed my sheep.\"[312] To this\n    opponuntur pravae eorum            doctrine so clearly set forth\n    sententiae, qui constitutam a      in the sacred Scriptures, as\n    Christo Domino in sua Ecclesia     the Catholic Church has always\n    regiminis formam pervertentes      understood it, are plainly\n    negant, solum Petrum prae          opposed the perverse opinions of\n    caeteris Apostolis, sive seorsum   those who, distorting the form\n    singulis sive omnibus simul,       of government established in\n    vero proprioque iurisdictionis     his church by Christ our Lord,\n    primatu fuisse a Christo           deny that Peter alone above the\n    instructum: aut qui affirmant      other apostles, whether taken\n    eumdem primatum non immediate,     separately one by one or all\n    directeque ipsi beato Petro, sed   together, was endowed by Christ\n    Ecclesiae, et per hanc illi,       with a true and real primacy\n    ut ipsius Ecclesiae ministro,      of jurisdiction; or who assert\n    delatum fuisse.                    that this primacy was not\n                                       given immediately and directly\n    Si quis igitur dixerit, beatum     to blessed Peter, but to the\n    Petrum Apostolum non esse a        church, and through her to him,\n    Christo Domino constitutum         as to the agent of the church.\n    Apostolorum omnium principem\n    et totius Ecclesiae militantis     If, therefore, any one shall\n    visibile caput; vel eumdem         say, that blessed Peter the\n    honoris tantum, non autem verae    Apostle was not appointed by\n    propriaeque iurisdictionis         Christ our Lord, the prince\n    primatum ab eodem Domino           of all the apostles, and the\n    nostro Iesu Christo directe et     visible head of the whole church\n    immediate accepisse; anathema      militant; or, that he received\n    sit.                               directly and immediately from\n                                       our Lord Jesus Christ only the\n                                       primacy of honor, and not that\n                                       of true and real jurisdiction;\n                                       let him be anathema.\n\n\n    CAPUT II.                          CHAPTER II.\n\n    DE PERPETUITATE PRIMATUS BEATI     OF THE PERPETUITY OF THE PRIMACY\n    PETRI IN ROMANIS PONTIFICIBUS.     OF PETER IN THE ROMAN PONTIFFS.\n\n    Quod autem in beato Apostolo       What the prince of pastors\n    Petro princeps pastorum et         and the great shepherd of the\n    pastor magnus ovium Dominus        sheep, our Lord Jesus Christ,\n    Christus Iesus in perpetuam        established in the person of the\n    salutem ac perenne bonum           blessed apostle Peter for the\n    Ecclesiae instituit, id eodem      perpetual welfare and lasting\n    auctore in Ecclesia, quae          good of the church, the same\n    fundata super petram ad finem      through his power must needs\n    saeculorum usque firma stabit,     last for ever in that church,\n    iugiter durare necesse est.        which is founded upon the rock,\n    Nulli sane dubium, imo saeculis    and will stand firm till the\n    omnibus notum est, quod            end of time. And indeed it is\n    sanctus beatissimusque Petrus,     well known, as it has been in\n    Apostolorum princeps et caput,     all ages, that the holy and\n    fideique columna et Ecclesiae      most blessed Peter, prince and\n    catholicae fundamentum, a Domino   head of the apostles, pillar of\n    nostro Iesu Christo, Salvatore     the faith and foundation of the\n    humani generis ac Redemptore,      Catholic Church, who received\n    claves regni accepit: qui ad       from our Lord Jesus Christ, the\n    hoc usque tempus et semper in      Saviour and Redeemer of mankind,\n    suis successoribus, episcopis      the keys of the kingdom of\n    sanctae Romanae Sedis, ab ipso     heaven, to this present time and\n    fundatae, eiusque consecratae      at all times lives and presides\n    sanguine, vivit et praesidet       and pronounces judgment in the\n    et iudicium exercet.[313] Unde     person of his successors, the\n    quicumque in hac Cathedra Petro    bishops of the holy Roman see,\n    succedit, is secundum Christi      which was founded by him, and\n    ipsius institutionem primatum      consecrated by his blood.[316]\n    Petri in universam Ecclesiam       So that whoever succeeds Peter\n    obtinet. Manet ergo dispositio     in this chair, holds, according\n    veritatis, et beatus Petrus        to Christ's own institution, the\n    in accepta fortitudine petrae      primacy of Peter over the whole\n    perseverans suscepta Ecclesiae     church. What, therefore, was\n    gubernacula non reliquit.[314]     once established by him who is\n    Hac de causa ad Romanam            the truth, still remains, and\n    Ecclesiam propter potentiorem      blessed Peter, retaining the\n    principalitatem necesse semper     strength of the rock, which has\n    fuit omnem convenire Ecclesiam,    been given to him, has never\n    hoc est, eos, qui sunt undique     left the helm of the church\n    fideles, ut in ea Sede, e qua      originally intrusted to him.[317]\n    venerandae communionis iura\n    in omnes dimanant, tamquam         For this reason it was always\n    membra in capite consociata,       necessary for every other\n    in unam corporis compagem          church, that is, the faithful of\n    coalescerent.[315]                 all countries, to have recourse\n                                       to the Roman Church on account\n    Si quis ergo dixerit, non          of its superior headship, in\n    esse ex ipsius Christi Domini      order that being joined, as\n    institutione seu iure divino,      members to their head, with this\n    ut beatus Petrus in primatu        see, from which the rights of\n    super universam Ecclesiam          religious communion flow unto\n    habeat perpetuos successores;      all, they might be knitted into\n    aut Romanum Pontificem non esse    the unity of one body.[318]\n    beati Petri in eodem primatu\n    successorem; anathema sit.         If, therefore, any one shall\n                                       say, that it is not by the\n                                       institution of Christ our Lord\n                                       himself, or by divine right,\n                                       that blessed Peter has perpetual\n                                       successors in the primacy over\n                                       the whole church; or, that\n                                       the Roman pontiff is not the\n                                       successor of blessed Peter\n                                       in this primacy; let him be\n                                       anathema.\n\n\n    CAPUT III.                         CHAPTER III.\n\n    DE VI ET RATIONE PRIMATUS ROMANI   OF THE POWER AND NATURE OF THE\n    PONTIFICIS.                        PRIMACY OF THE ROMAN PONTIFF.\n\n    Quapropter apertis innixi          Wherefore, resting upon the\n    sacrarum litterarum                clear testimonies of holy\n    testimoniis et inhaerentes         writ, and following the full\n    tum Praedecessorum Nostrorum       and explicit decrees of our\n    Romanorum Pontificum, tum          predecessors the Roman pontiffs,\n    Conciliorum generalium disertis,   and of general councils, we\n    perspicuisque decretis,            renew the definition of the\n    innovamus oecumenici Concilii      \u0153cumenical council of\n    Florentini definitionem, qua       Florence, according to which\n    credendum ab omnibus Christi       all the faithful of Christ\n    fidelibus est, sanctam             must believe that the holy\n    Apostolicam Sedem, et Romanum      apostolic see and the Roman\n    Pontificem in universum orbem      pontiff hold the primacy over\n    tenere primatum, et ipsum          the whole world, and that the\n    Pontificem Romanum successorem     Roman pontiff is the successor\n    esse beati Petri principis         of blessed Peter the prince of\n    Apostolorum, et verum Christi      the apostles, and the true vicar\n    Vicarium, totiusque Ecclesiae      of Christ, and is the head of\n    caput, et omnium Christianorum     the whole church, and the father\n    patrem ac doctorem existere;       and teacher of all Christians;\n    et ipsi in beato Petro             and that to him, in the blessed\n    pascendi, regendi et gubernandi    Peter, was given by our Lord\n    universalem Ecclesiam a Domino     Jesus Christ full power of\n    nostro Iesu Christo plenam         feeding, ruling, and governing\n    potestatem traditam esse;          the universal church; as is also\n    quemadmodum etiam in gestis        set forth in the acts of the\n    oecumenicorum Conciliorum et       \u0153cumenical councils, and in\n    sacris canonibus continetur.       the sacred canons.\n\n    Docemus proinde et declaramus,     Wherefore, we teach and declare\n    Ecclesiam Romanam disponente       that the Roman Church, under\n    Domino super omnes alias           divine providence, possesses\n    ordinariae potestatis obtinere     a headship of ordinary power\n    principatum, et hanc Romani        over all other churches, and\n    Pontificis iurisdictionis          that this power of jurisdiction\n    potestatem, quae vere              of the Roman pontiff, which is\n    episcopalis est, immediatam        truly episcopal, is immediate,\n    esse: erga quam cuiuscumque        toward which the pastors and\n    ritus et dignitatis,               faithful of whatever rite and\n    pastores atque fideles, tam        dignity, whether singly or all\n    seorsum singuli quam simul         together, are bound by the duty\n    omnes, officio hierarchicae        of hierarchical subordination\n    subordinationis, veraeque          and of true obedience, not only\n    obedientiae obstringuntur, non     in things which appertain to\n    solum in rebus, quae ad fidem      faith and morals, but likewise\n    et mores, sed etiam in iis,        in those things which concern\n    quae ad disciplinam et regimen     the discipline and government\n    Ecclesiae, per totum orbem         of the church spread throughout\n    diffusae pertinent; ita, ut        the world, so that being united\n    custodita cum Romano Pontifice     with the Roman pontiff, both in\n    tam communionis, quam eiusdem      communion and in profession of\n    fidei professionis unitate,        the same faith, the church of\n    Ecclesia Christi sit unus grex     Christ may be one fold under\n    sub uno summo pastore. Haec est    one chief shepherd. This is the\n    catholicae veritatis doctrina,     doctrine of Catholic truth, from\n    a qua deviare salva fide atque     which no one can depart without\n    salute nemo potest.                loss of faith and salvation.\n\n    Tantum autem abest, ut haec        So far, nevertheless, is this\n    Summi Pontificis potestas          power of the supreme pontiff\n    officiat ordinariae ac             from trenching on that ordinary\n    immediatae illi episcopali         power of episcopal jurisdiction\n    iurisdictionis potestati, qua      by which the bishops, who have\n    Episcopi, qui positi a Spiritu     been instituted by the Holy\n    Sancto in Apostolorum locum        Ghost and have succeeded in the\n    successerunt, tamquam veri         place of the apostles, like\n    Pastores assignatos sibi greges,   true shepherds, feed and rule\n    singuli singulos, pascunt et       the flocks assigned to them,\n    regunt, ut eadem a supremo et      each one his own; that, on the\n    universali Pastore asseratur,      contrary, this their power is\n    roboretur ac vindicetur,           asserted, strengthened, and\n    secundum illud sancti Gregorii     vindicated by the supreme and\n    Magni: Meus honor est honor        universal pastor; as St. Gregory\n    universalis Ecclesiae. Meus        the Great saith: My honor is the\n    honor est fratrum meorum solidus   honor of the universal church;\n    vigor. Tum ego vere honoratus      my honor is the solid strength\n    sum, cum singulis quibusque        of my brethren; then am I truly\n    honor debitus non negatur.[319]    honored when to each one of them\n                                       the honor due is not denied.\n                                       (St. Gregory Great ad Eulogius,\n                                       Epist. 30.)\n\n    Porro ex suprema ilia Romani       Moreover, from that supreme\n    Pontificis potestate gubernandi    authority of the Roman pontiff\n    universam Ecclesiam ius eidem      to govern the universal church,\n    esse consequitur, in huius         there follows to him the right,\n    sui muneris exercitio libere       in the exercise of this his\n    communicandi cum pastoribus et     office, of freely communicating\n    gregibus totius Ecclesiae, ut      with the pastors and flocks of\n    iidem ab ipso in via salutis       the whole church, that they may\n    doceri ac regi possint. Quare      be taught and guided by him in\n    damnamus ac reprobamus illorum     the way of salvation.\n    sententias, qui hanc supremi\n    capitis cum pastoribus et          Wherefore, we condemn and\n    gregibus communicationem           reprobate the opinions of those,\n    licite impediri posse dicunt,      who say that this communication\n    aut eamdem reddunt saeculari       of the supreme head with the\n    potestati obnoxiam, ita ut         pastors and flocks can be\n    contendant, quae ab Apostolica     lawfully hindered, or who make\n    Sede vel eius auctoritate ad       it subject to the secular\n    regimen Ecclesiae constituuntur,   power, maintaining that the\n    vim ac valorem non habere, nisi    things which are decreed by\n    potestatis saecularis placito      the apostolic see or under its\n    confirmentur.                      authority for the government of\n                                       the church, have no force or\n    Et quoniam divino Apostolici       value unless they are confirmed\n    primatus iure Romanus Pontifex     by the approval of the secular\n    universae Ecclesiae praeest,       power. And since, by the divine\n    docemus etiam et declaramus,       right of apostolic primacy,\n    eum esse iudicem supremum          the Roman pontiff presides\n    fidelium,[320] et in omnibus       over the universal churches,\n    causis ad examen ecclesiasticum    we also teach and declare\n    spectantibus ad ipsius posse       that he is the supreme judge\n    iudicium recurri;[321]             of the faithful, (Pius VI.\n    Sedis vero Apostolicae,            Brief Super Soliditate,) and\n    cuius auctoritate maior non        that in all causes calling for\n    est, iudicium a nemine fore        ecclesiastical trial, recourse\n    retractandum, neque cuiquam        may be had to his judgment,\n    de eius licere iudicare            (Second Council of Lyons;) but\n    iudicio.[322] Quare a recto        the decision of the apostolic\n    veritatis tramite aberrant,        see, above which there is no\n    qui affirmant, licere ab           higher authority, cannot be\n    iudiciis Romanorum Pontificum ad   reconsidered by any one, nor\n    oecumenicum Concilium tamquam ad   is it lawful to any one to sit\n    auctoritatem Romano Pontifice      in judgment on his judgment.\n    superiorem appellare.              (Nicholas I. epist. ad Michaelem\n                                       Imperatorem.)\n\n                                       Wherefore, they wander away\n                                       from the right path of truth\n                                       who assert that it is lawful\n                                       to appeal from the judgments\n                                       of the Roman pontiffs to an\n                                       \u0153cumenical council, as if to\n                                       an authority superior to the\n                                       Roman pontiff.\n\n    Si quis itaque dixerit, Romanum    Therefore, if any one shall say\n    Pontificem habere tantummodo       that the Roman pontiff holds\n    officium inspectionis vel          only the charge of inspection\n    directionis, non autem plenam      or direction, and not full and\n    et supremam potestatem             supreme power of jurisdiction\n    iurisdictionis in universam        over the entire church, not only\n    Ecclesiam, non solum in rebus,     in things which pertain to faith\n    quae ad fidem et mores,            and morals, but also in those\n    sed etiam in iis, quae ad          which pertain to the discipline\n    disciplinam et regimen Ecclesiae   and government of the church\n    per totum orbem diffusae           spread throughout the whole\n    pertinent; aut eum habere tantum   world; or, that he possesses\n    potiores partes, non vero totam    only the chief part and not the\n    plenitudinem huius supremae        entire plenitude of this supreme\n    potestatis; aut hanc eius          power; or, that this his power\n    potestatem non esse ordinariam     is not ordinary and immediate,\n    et immediatam sive in omnes ac     both as regards all and each of\n    singulas ecclesias sive in omnes   the churches, and all and each\n    et singulos pastores et fideles;   of the pastors and faithful; let\n    anathema sit.                      him be anathema.\n\n\n    CAPUT IV.                          CHAPTER IV.\n\n    DE ROMANI PONTIFICIS INFALLIBILI   OF THE INFALLIBLE AUTHORITY OF\n    MAGISTERIO.                        THE ROMAN PONTIFF IN TEACHING.\n\n    Ipso autem Apostolico primatu,     This holy see has ever\n    quem Romanus Pontifex tamquam      held--the unbroken custom of\n    Petri principis Apostolorum        the church doth prove--and the\n    successor in universam             \u0153cumenical councils, those\n    Ecclesiam obtinet, supremam        especially in which the east\n    quoque magisterii potestatem       joined with the west, in union\n    comprehendi, haec Sancta Sedes     of faith and of charity, have\n    semper tenuit, perpetuus           declared that in this apostolic\n    Ecclesiae usus comprobat,          primacy, which the Roman pontiff\n    ipsaque oecumenica Concilia, ea    holds over the universal church,\n    imprimis, in quibus Oriens cum     as successor of Peter the prince\n    Occidente in fidei charitatisque   of the apostles, there is also\n    unionem conveniebat,               contained the supreme power of\n    declaraverunt. Patres enim         authoritative teaching. Thus the\n    Concilii Constantinopolitani       fathers of the fourth council of\n    quarti, maiorum vestigiis          Constantinople, following in the\n    inhaerentes, hanc solemnem         footsteps of their predecessors,\n    ediderunt professionem: Prima      put forth this solemn profession:\n    salus est, rectae fidei regulam\n    custodire. Et quia non potest      \"The first law of salvation is\n    Domini nostri Iesu Christi         to keep the rule of true faith.\n    praetermitti sententia dicentis:   And whereas the words of our\n    Tu es Petrus, et super hanc        Lord Jesus Christ cannot be\n    petram aedificabo Ecclesiam        passed by, who said: Thou art\n    meam, haec, quae dicta sunt,       Peter, and upon this rock I\n    rerum probantur effectibus, quia   will build my church, (Matt.\n    in Sede Apostolica immaculata      xvi. 18,) these words, which\n    est semper catholica reservata     he spake, are proved true by\n    religio, et sancta celebrata       facts; for in the apostolic\n    doctrina. Ab huius ergo fide       see, the Catholic religion has\n    et doctrina separari minime        ever been preserved unspotted,\n    cupientes, speramus, ut in         and the holy doctrine has been\n    una communione, quam Sedes         announced. Therefore wishing\n    Apostolica praedicat, esse         never to be separated from the\n    mereamur, in qua est integra       faith and teaching of this see,\n    et vera Christianae religionis     we hope to be worthy to abide\n    soliditas.[323] Approbante vero    in that one communion which the\n    Lugdunenis Concilio secundo,       apostolic see preaches, in which\n    Graeci professi sunt: Sanctam      is the full and true firmness\n    Romanam Ecclesiam summum et        of the Christian religion.\"\n    plenum primatum et principatum     [Formula of St. Hormisdas Pope,\n    super universam Ecclesiam          as proposed by Hadrian II.\n    catholicam obtinere, quem se       to the fathers of the eighth\n    ab ipso Domino in beato Petro      general Council, (Constantinop.\n    Apostolorum principe sive          IV.,) and subscribed by them.]\n    vertice, cuius Romanus Pontifex\n    est successor, cum potestatis      So too, the Greeks, with the\n    plenitudine recepisse veraciter    approval of the second council\n    et humiliter recognoscit; et       of Lyons, professed, that the\n    sicut prae caeteris tenetur        holy Roman Church holds over\n    fidei veritatem defendere, sic     the universal Catholic Church,\n    et, si quae de fide subortae       a supreme and full primacy and\n    fuerint quaestiones, suo debent    headship, which she truthfully\n    iudicio definiri. Florentinum      and humbly acknowledges that\n    denique Concilium definivit:       she received, with fulness of\n    Pontificem Romanum, verum          power, from the Lord himself\n    Christi Vicarium, totiusque        in blessed Peter, the prince\n    Ecclesiae caput et omnium          or head of the apostles, of\n    Christianorum patrem ac doctorem   whom the Roman pontiff is the\n    existere; et ipsi in beato Petro   successor; and as she, beyond\n    pascendi, regendi ac gubernandi    the others, is bound to defend\n    universalem Ecclesiam a Domino     the truth of the faith, so, if\n    nostro Iesu Christo plenam         any questions arise concerning\n    potestatem traditam esse.          faith, they should be decided\n                                       by her judgment. And finally,\n                                       the council of Florence defined\n                                       that the Roman pontiff is true\n                                       vicar of Christ, and the head of\n                                       the whole church, and the father\n                                       and teacher of all Christians,\n                                       and that to him, in the blessed\n                                       Peter, was given by our Lord\n                                       Jesus Christ full power of\n                                       feeding and ruling and governing\n                                       the universal church. (John xxi.\n                                       15-17.)\n\n    Huic pastorali muneri ut           In order to fulfil this pastoral\n    satisfacerent, Praedecessores      charge, our predecessors have\n    Nostri indefessam semper operam    ever labored unweariedly to\n    dederunt, ut salutaris Christi     spread the saving doctrine of\n    doctrina apud omnes terrae         Christ among all the nations\n    populos propagaretur, parique      of the earth, and with equal\n    cura vigilarunt, ut, ubi           care have watched to preserve\n    recepta esset, sincera et pura     it pure and unchanged where it\n    conservaretur. Quocirca totius     had been received. Wherefore\n    orbis Antistites, nunc singuli,    the bishops of the whole world,\n    nunc in Synodis congregati,        sometimes singly, sometimes\n    longam ecclesiarum consuetudinem   assembled in synods, following\n    et antiquae regulae formam         the long established custom\n    sequentes, ea praesertim           of the churches, (S. Cyril,\n    pericula, quae in negotiis         Alex. ad S. C\u0153lest. Pap.,)\n    fidei emergebant, ad hanc Sedem    and the form of ancient rule,\n    Apostolicam retulerunt, ut ibi     (St. Innocent I. to councils of\n    potissimum resarcirentur damna     Carthage and Milevi,) referred\n    fidei, ubi fides non potest        to this apostolic see those\n    sentire defectum.[324] Romani      dangers especially which arose\n    autem Pontifices, prout temporum   in matters of faith, in order\n    et rerum conditio suadebat, nunc   that injuries to faith might\n    convocatis oecumenicis Conciliis   best be healed there where the\n    aut explorata Ecclesiae per        faith could never fail. (St.\n    orbem dispersae sententia, nunc    Bernard ep. 190.) And the Roman\n    per Synodos particulares, nunc     pontiffs, weighing the condition\n    aliis, quae divina suppeditabat    of times and circumstances,\n    providentia, adhibitis auxiliis,   sometimes calling together\n    ea tenenda definiverunt, quae      general councils, or asking\n    sacris Scripturis et apostolicis   the judgment of the church\n    Traditionibus consentanea,         scattered through the world,\n    Deo adiutore, cognoverant.         sometimes consulting particular\n    Neque enim Petri successoribus     synods, sometimes using such\n    Spiritus Sanctus promissus         other aids as divine providence\n    est, ut eo revelante novam         supplied, defined that those\n    doctrinam patefacerent, sed        doctrines should be held, which,\n    ut eo assistente traditam per      by the aid of God, they knew\n    Apostolos revelationem seu fidei   to be conformable to the holy\n    depositum sancte custodirent et    Scriptures, and the apostolic\n    fideliter exponerent. Quorum       traditions. For the Holy\n    quidem apostolicam doctrinam       Ghost is not promised to the\n    omnes venerabiles Patres amplexi   successors of Peter, that they\n    et sancti Doctores orthodoxi       may make known a new doctrine\n    venerati atque secuti sunt;        revealed by him, but that,\n    plenissime scientes, hanc sancti   through his assistance, they may\n    Petri Sedem ab omni semper         sacredly guard, and faithfully\n    errore illibatam permanere,        set forth the revelation\n    secundum Domini Salvatoris         delivered by the apostles, that\n    nostri divinam pollicitationem     is, the deposit of faith. And\n    discipulorum suorum principi       this their apostolic teaching,\n    factam: Ego rogavi pro te, ut      all the venerable fathers have\n    non deficiat fides tua, et tu      embraced, and the holy orthodox\n    aliquando conversus confirma       doctors have revered and\n    fratres tuos.                      followed, knowing most certainly\n                                       that this see of St. Peter ever\n                                       remains free from all error,\n                                       according to the divine promise\n                                       of our Lord and Saviour made\n                                       to the prince of the apostles:\n                                       I have prayed for thee, that\n                                       thy faith fail not, and thou,\n                                       being once converted, confirm\n                                       thy brethren. (Conf. St. Agatho,\n                                       Ep. ad Imp. a Conc. \u0152cum. VI.\n                                       approbat.)\n\n    Hoc igitur veritatis et fidei      Therefore, this gift of truth,\n    numquam deficientis charisma       and of faith which fails not,\n    Petro eiusque in hac Cathedra      was divinely bestowed on Peter\n    successoribus divinitus collatum   and his successors in this\n    est, ut excelso suo munere in      chair, that they should exercise\n    omnium salutem fungerentur,        their high office for the\n    ut universus Christi grex per      salvation of all, that through\n    eos ab erroris venenosa esca       them the universal flock of\n    aversus, coelestis doctrinae       Christ should be turned away\n    pabulo nutriretur, ut sublata      from the poisonous food of\n    schismatis occasione Ecclesia      error, and should be nourished\n    tota una conservaretur atque suo   with the food of heavenly\n    fundamento innixa firma adversus   doctrine, and that, the occasion\n    inferi portas consisteret.         of schism being removed,\n                                       the entire church should be\n                                       preserved one, and, planted on\n                                       her foundation, should stand\n                                       firm against the gates of hell.\n\n    At vero cum hac ipsa aetate, qua   Nevertheless, since in this\n    salutifera Apostolici muneris      present age, when the saving\n    efficacia vel maxime requiritur,   efficacy of the apostolic\n    non pauci inveniantur, qui         office is exceedingly needed,\n    illius auctoritati obtrectant;     there are not a few who carp\n    necessarium omnino esse            at its authority; we judge it\n    censemus, praerogativam, quam      altogether necessary to solemnly\n    unigenitus Dei Filius cum summo    declare the prerogative, which\n    pastorali officio coniungere       the only begotten Son of God has\n    dignatus est, solemniter           deigned to unite to the supreme\n    asserere.                          pastoral office.\n\n    Itaque Nos traditioni a fidei      Wherefore, faithfully adhering\n    Christianae exordio perceptae      to the tradition handed down\n    fideliter inhaerendo, ad Dei       from the commencement of the\n    Salvatoris nostri gloriam          Christian faith, for the\n    religionis Catholicae              glory of God our Saviour, the\n    exaltationem et Christianorum      exaltation of the Catholic\n    populorum salutem, sacro           religion, and the salvation\n    approbante Concilio, docemus et    of Christian peoples, with\n    divinitus revelatum dogma esse     the approbation of the sacred\n    definimus: Romanum Pontificem,     council, we teach and define\n    cum ex Cathedra loquitur, id       it to be a doctrine divinely\n    est, cum omnium Christianorum      revealed: that when the Roman\n    Pastoris et Doctoris munere        pontiff speaks _ex cathedra_,\n    fungens, pro suprema sua           that is, when in the exercise of\n    Apostolica auctoritate doctrinam   his office of pastor and teacher\n    de fide vel moribus ab universa    of all Christians, and in virtue\n    Ecclesia tenendam definit, per     of his supreme apostolical\n    assistentiam divinam, ipsi         authority, he defines that a\n    in beato Petro promissam, ea       doctrine of faith or morals is\n    infallibilitate pollere, qua       to be held by the universal\n    divinus Redemptor Ecclesiam suam   church, he possesses, through\n    in definienda doctrina de fide     the divine assistance promised\n    vel moribus instructam esse        to him in the blessed Peter,\n    voluit; ideoque eiusmodi Romani    that infallibility with which\n    Pontificis definitiones ex sese,   the divine Redeemer willed\n    non autem ex consensu Ecclesiae,   his church to be endowed, in\n    irreformabiles esse.               defining a doctrine of faith or\n                                       morals; and therefore that such\n                                       definitions of the Roman pontiff\n                                       are irreformable of themselves,\n                                       and not by force of the consent\n                                       of the church thereto.\n\n    Si quis autem huic Nostrae         And if any one shall presume,\n    definitioni contradicere, quod     which God forbid, to contradict\n    Deus avertat, praesumpserit;       this our definition; let him be\n    anathema sit.                      anathema.\n\n    Datum Romae, in publica Sessione   Given in Rome, in the Public\n    in Vaticana Basilica solemniter    Session, solemnly celebrated in\n    celebrata, anno Incarnationis      the Vatican Basilica, in the\n    Dominicae millesimo                year of the Incarnation of our\n    octingentesimo septuagesimo, die   Lord one thousand eight hundred\n    decima octava Iulii.               and seventy, on the eighteenth\n                                       day of July; in the twenty-fifth\n    Pontificatus Nostri anno           year of our Pontificate.\n    vigesimo quinto\n\n    Ita est                            Ita est.\n\n    IOSEPHUS                           JOSEPH, BISHOP OF ST. POLTEN,\n      _Episcopus S. Hippolyti_           _Secretary of the Council of\n      _Secretarius Concilii Vaticani_.   the Vatican_.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[306] S. Leo M. serm. iv. (al. iii.) cap. 2. in diem Natalis sui.\n\n[307] Joan. i. 42.\n\n[308] Matth. xvi. 16-19.\n\n[309] John i. 42.\n\n[310] Joan. xxi. 15-17.\n\n[311] Matthew xvi. 16-19.\n\n[312] John xxi. 15-17.\n\n[313] Cf. Ephesini Concilii Act. iii.\n\n[314] S. Leo M. Serm. iii. (al. ii.) cap. 3.\n\n[315] S. Iren. Adv. H\u00e6r. I. iii. c. 3. Ep. Conc. Aquilei 2. 381,\ninter epp. S. Ambros. ep. xi.\n\n[316] Council of Eph. sess. iii. St. Peter Chrys. Ep. ad Eutych.\n\n[317] S. Leo, Serm. iii. chap. iii.\n\n[318] St. Iren\u00e6us against Heresies, book iii. chap. 3. Epist. of\nCouncil of Aquileia, 381, to Gratian, chap. 4. of Pius VI. Brief\nSuper Soliditate.\n\n[319] Ep. ad Eulog. Alexandrin. I. viii. ep. xxx.\n\n[320] Pii P. VI. Breve Super Soliditate, d. 28. Nov. 1786.\n\n[321] Concil. \u0152cum. Lugdun. II.\n\n[322] Ep. Nicolai I. ad Michaelem Imperatorem.\n\n[323] Ex formula S. Hormisdae Papae, prout ab Hadriano II. Patribus\nConcilii Oecumenici VIII., Constantinopolitani IV., proposita et ab\niisdem subscripta est.\n\n[324] Cf. S. Bern. Epist. 190.\n\n\n\n\nNEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n\n    LIFE OF T. TH\u00c9OPHANE V\u00c9NARD, MARTYR IN TONQUIN. Translated from\n    the French by Lady Herbert. London: Burns, Oates & Co. 1870.\n    Pp. 215. For sale by the Catholic Publication Society, 9 Warren\n    Street, New York.\n\nChina is the land of modern martyrdom. She continues the work of\nNero and Diocletian. Within a few days the newspapers have contained\na brief account of the latest massacre. These persecutions have\nbeen constant since her soil first drank the blood of a Catholic\nmissionary. Incited by their pagan priests, secretly encouraged\nby government officials, and sustained by the approbation of the\nmandarins, the ignorant and barbarous mobs of China are only too\nready for the murder of those whom they term \"Foreign Devils.\"\nThroughout the world there is at least partial toleration for the\nteacher of the Christian religion; in China there is only certain\ndeath. Father V\u00e9nard, then, went to China with the hope and\nexpectation of martyrdom. This was tempered, indeed, by the thought\nthat he was unworthy of this singular grace, but still it was the\nconstant thought of his life. In early childhood it was his delight\nto read the \"Annals of the Propagation of the Faith\" with his dear\nsister M\u00e9lanie; and once, when he had scarcely reached his ninth\nyear, he was heard to exclaim, \"And I too will go to Tonquin; and I\ntoo will be a martyr!\" Those childish lips were speaking a prophecy.\nLet twenty-two years pass away, and the little French lad will be\nfound in a wooden cage, the prisoner of barbarians, and awaiting\nsentence of death. Sweet bird of paradise that he was, it is not\nstrange that even a pagan mob should be touched by his misfortunes.\nHe hears the crowd about his prison saying, \"What a pretty boy\nthat European is!\" \"He is gay and bright, as if he were going to a\nfeast!\" \"He is come to our country to do us good.\" \"Certainly he\ncan't have done any thing wrong.\" But in China, as in more civilized\nnations, popular sympathy has little influence over the authorities\nwho administer the government. Doubtless there was some law to be\nvindicated, and so, on February 3d, 1860, at the age of thirty-one,\nFather V\u00e9nard was beheaded. His execution was not remarkable for\nany great tortures, though it was cruel enough. But this was due to\nan unskilful headsman and a dull sword; and as these accidents are\nfrequent in the execution of our criminals, it would be unjust to\nmake it a reproach to those who caused the death of the young martyr.\nBut his life does not require the heroic endurance of tortures to\nmake it interesting. He wins our love simply because he was so full\nof love himself. He was a tender and affectionate son, a warm and\ndevoted brother, an unfailing friend. Perhaps the greatest of his\nsacrifices was made when he left the sister to whom he was so warmly\nattached that he might labor among the heathen. It may have been\na more glorious triumph for the martyr to renounce his idolized\nrelatives than to meet death bravely. We cannot, therefore, see\nthe appropriateness of Lady Herbert's remark, that V\u00e9nard \"was no\nascetic saint, trembling at every manifestation of human or natural\nfeeling.\" If he did not tremble at human affections, at least he knew\nhow to renounce them; indeed, he saw that perfection could only be\ngained by their renunciation. But as Lady Herbert's sentence reads,\nit conveys a reproach to the ascetics. We might imagine that \"an\nascetic saint trembling at every manifestation of human or natural\nfeeling\" was something greatly to be deplored. But when we remember\nthat St. Aloysius was so careful in this matter that he would not\nraise his eyes to look upon his own mother, we may very fairly\nquestion the wisdom of Lady Herbert's insinuation. She has evidently\nused the word ascetic in a Protestant sense; deriving it from the\nword similar in sound, but totally different in meaning--_acetic_.\nIt would be very difficult to assign exactly the part which human\naffections play in Christian perfection. Perhaps there is no rule\nwhich will apply to all. The lives of the saints show that they have\nlooked upon it in very different lights. Some have completely broken\nall family ties; others have cherished and sanctified the love borne\nto their relations. It is only fair, then, to conclude that God has\ndirected these souls in different ways. If F. V\u00e9nard yields up his\nlife for Christ and the Catholic faith, we will not quarrel with him\nwhen he calls his sister \"part of his very life,\" or tells her that\nshe is his \"second self.\" Yet such language could not come from St.\nAloysius, or St. Francis Borgia, or St. Ignatius. Their piety was\ncast in a more austere mould. But coming from this dear martyr of\nTonquin, these words do not seem inappropriate. No one would wish\nthem changed. They are the expression of his innocent and childish\ndisposition. They prove our hero, though a priest and a man of\nthirty, to be the worthy companion of gentle St. Agnes. Of all the\nmartyrs none have resembled her more closely than this heroic priest;\nall that imagination has painted her will be found in the reality of\nFather V\u00e9nard's life.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    NOTES ON THE PHYSIOLOGY AND PATHOLOGY OF THE NERVOUS SYSTEM.\n    With reference to Clinical Medicine. By Meredith Clymer, M.D.,\n    University Pennsylvania; Fellow of the College of Physicians,\n    Philadelphia. D. Appleton & Co. Pp. 53.\n\nThis brochure fulfils the promise of its learned author in the\nintroduction, in which he \"proposes to summarize the recent\ninvestigations into the physiology and pathology of the nervous\nsystem which have a bearing on clinical medicine.\"\n\nThe labor has been faithfully and skilfully performed, and the\nhistory of the scleroses of the brain and spinal cord is carefully\ncollected from the English, German, and French--collated, compared,\nand analyzed. The summary is one of the utmost importance to\nphysicians, and is interesting to men of general knowledge capable of\nappreciating this class of subjects.\n\nIt is difficult to over-estimate the value to science and society\nof the investigations and studies into the physiology and pathology\nof the nervous centres which are being conducted all over the\nworld. Among the students of these interesting subjects Dr. Clymer\nranks high as an observer, and chief in this country as annalist\nand critic. He holds a position in the world of medicine analogous\nto that held by Brownson in the domain of philosophy and theology,\nand his services are of inestimable value in correcting the hasty,\ncrude, and ill-advised speculations of men who have neither acquired\nknowledge nor powers of original observation and reflection.\n\nIt is obviously out of place to pursue the subject in its medical\naspects in this place, but we commend the pamphlet to physicians,\nscientists, and jurists, and also to theologians.\n\nFrom this class of works they can learn the basis on which medicine\nrests as a science, and the essential immorality of all forms of\nquackery.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    OUT OF THE PAST. (Critical and Literary Papers.) By Parke\n    Godwin. New York: G. P. Putnam & Sons. 1870.\n\nThis is a collection of nineteen articles written for different\nmagazines--principally for the _Democratic Review_ and _Putnam's\nMonthly_--at various periods from 1839 to 1856. The experiment\nof publishing in book form an author's fugitive essays is seldom\nsuccessful. True, it was so in the cases of Carlyle and Macaulay. How\nfar Mr. Godwin may resemble them in this respect remains to be seen.\nShould any reviewer come to the treatment of this book strong in the\nVicar of Wakefield's celebrated canon of criticism--that the picture\nwould have been better if the painter had taken more pains--he will\nfind himself disarmed by Mr. Godwin's prefatory apology, that these\nessays \"are more imperfect than they would have been with a larger\nleisure at my command.\" The subjects are generally interesting, and\ntheir treatment instructive. The style of these essays is excellent,\nand their author's opinions and criticisms on literature and art\ngenerally of a healthy tone. We cannot precisely agree with Mr.\nGodwin when he credits a certain work of Dutch art (p. 375) with the\ninspiration of patriotism, but are glad to see with his eyes that\nThackeray\n\n    \"Took no satyr's delight in offensive scenes and graceless\n    characters; that he was even sadder than the reader could be\n    at the horrible prospect before him; that his task was one\n    conscientiously undertaken, with some deep, great, generous\n    purpose; and that, beneath his seeming scoff and mockeries,\n    was to be discovered a more searching wisdom and a sweeter,\n    tenderer pathos than we found in any other living writer. We\n    saw that he chastised in no ill-natured or malicious vein,\n    but in love; that he cauterized only to cure; and that, if he\n    wandered through the dreary circles of Inferno, it was because\n    the spirit of Beatrice, the spirit of immortal beauty, beckoned\n    him to the more glorious paradise.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    A COMPENDIUM OF THE HISTORY OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH. By Rev.\n    Theodore Noethen. Baltimore: John Murphy & Co. 1870. Pp. 587.\n\nA hasty glance through the contents of this work seems to justify\nthese conclusions: The chief merit of the book is its numerous\nanecdotes. These illustrate the particular customs and dangers of\nChristians in different nations and centuries. Compendiums usually\nfatigue the mind with dates and uninteresting details. Father Noethen\nhas carefully avoided this fault. He leads us into the homes and by\nthe hearth-side of the Catholics of former times. Nothing can be\nmore useful than this. History cannot be learned until we imagine\nourselves living at that very time and taking our part in the scenes\nwhich are described. So the words of a martyr, or a sentence from a\nletter, or a pious custom will often throw more light upon history\nthan whole pages of detailed facts and speculations. In regard to\nthose more delicate questions which every writer of a church history\nmust solve in some way, Father Noethen appears to have acted with\ngreat discretion. We were particularly pleased with the remarks\nconcerning Origen. In this work that illustrious hero of the early\nchurch is given the praise which he has so long deserved, but which\nhas been so long denied him. By an oversight, however, there is\none unfortunate sentence in this book. It speaks of Constantine as\n\"convening a general council.\" Without doubt this expression is\nincorrect; the Christian emperors aided the meeting of \u0153cumenical\ncouncils; they never convened them. That power was always reserved to\nthe sovereign pontiff alone. But apart from this clerical error the\nbook is very praiseworthy, and will do good both to Catholics and to\nProtestants.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTranscriber's Note:\n\nObvious typographical errors have been repaired.\n\nIn the two dogmatic decrees, the original Latin consistently\ndisplayed ae ligatures as separate letters, this has been retained.\n\nP. 49: Stabat Mater. Original centered each Latin stanza, followed\nby English and Greek stanza translations side by side below it. For\nease of display in multiple formats, the English and Greek stanzas\nhave been changed to increasing indents below the Latin. \"English\nTranslation\" and \"Greek Translation\" headings, originally under the\npoem title, were moved to the first stanza of each translation.\n\nP. 71: multiple words beginning \"sciol-\", though unable to verify,\nwere retained since that spelling occurred consistently.\n\nP. 299: \"informs us triumphantly, three separate times\"--original\nreads \"three several times.\"","title":"The Catholic World, Vol. 11, April, 1870 to September, 1870","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":521639}